Clear but the weather somewhat moderated. I went to the Office, and after my usual duties attended a Meeting of the Directors of the Middlesex Canal for the purpose of organizing. Just a quorum present. Business was all performed in a very few minutes. Rest of my time taken up in reading Mackintosh’s History of England, Volume 2d. He takes somewhat original views of the early reigns. And after all I do not know but what he is right. My walk as usual.

In the Afternoon, which was shortened somewhat by reason of Mr. Brooks and Mr. Frothingham dining with me, I read Anquetil. But on the whole, since I have ceased writing, I have to reproach myself with a good deal of indolence. I do not know that I can justify to myself a life in which there is a little too much of luxury and idleness. Yet I am not so far gone as to be unwilling to work whenever I may have an opportunity. My energies must still be kept up in spite of the withering influence of wealth and ease.

Evening quietly at home. Finished the first volume of Caroline of Litchfield and the second of Lady Craven’s Memoirs. Afterwards reviewed some of Wieland.

Snow again. Our Winter comes all together. I went to the Office. Read a little of Sir James Mackintosh’s History, the philosophical character of which I very much admire. Engaged also in Diary and Accounts. The regularity of my morning life does not admit of much detail.

Called at the Athenaeum and took a walk notwithstanding the weather. I have felt better within a day or two. Afternoon, read Anquetil in quite a lazy way. The History of the French people is a history of civil commotion—Intrigue going on perpetually to acquire power. It is a remarkable feature of humanity, this constant grasping of authority—As if there was happiness in superiority. True, there may be, but it must be derived from the evil passions of the heart. Arrogance, vanity, pride, are those which it nurses. Our own Country is now a prey to the most violent struggles, and may be sacrificed because we have too many ambitious men.

Evening, quiet at home. Second volume of Caroline of Litchfield and Croker’s Killarney Legends.1 Read more of Wieland.