A change of twenty degrees in the atmosphere made us feel as if we had not absolutely bid good bye to Winter. I went to the Office as usual and divided my time in the way I commonly do. Pursued the reading of Gouverneur Morris. There is just enough published to show what remains behind. I would give a good deal to be able to read the letters to him of which those published are the replies. Mr. Sparks has exercised considerable caution in his selections. Yet another might have done worse.

Took a walk. Met Judge Rodgers, a singular mind. Afternoon, Anquetil whose account of de Retz’s escape from death at the meeting of the Parliament is extremely interesting. He was an extraordinary genius.

In the evening went to Gorham Brooks’. Mr. and Mrs. J. Gardner and Mr. N. Silsbee Jr. Supped there and returned home late. I am becoming so tired of this way of life which is altogether new to me, 35that I hope the time is not distant when we may be allowed to change it for a more quiet and domestic one. Above all, my studies suffer exceedingly.

A beautiful day. I went to the Office later than usual, having been engaged by Conant from Weston who came at last with some Wood, and he also paid me a sum of Money.1 Time taken up in writing and reading.

Made a little progress in Gouverneur Morris. It is to his credit that he was opposed to the miserable expedient resorted to by the Federal party to prevent the election of Mr. Jefferson. His subsequent conduct is not in accordance with that beginning.

I walked earlier than usual to accompany Mr. Peabody.2 Dined at Mrs. Blake’s with a few young men invited by Edward. R. Sturgis, W. E. Payne, N. Silsbee Jr., a Mr. Baker from Northampton, I believe, S. P. Blake and the ladies. Conversation tolerably pleasant—A good deal of it political. How difficult it is for a man to talk much and be prudent. Yet if he does not talk, he is voted a bore. I endeavour always to be guarded but my tongue now and then outruns my reason. We got up from table at about seven o’clock and I went home.

Quiet evening with my Wife. Read to her a little more of the Legends of Killarney which are poor enough. I afterwards looked over the Introduction to Alison on Taste.3

Another delightful day. I went to the Office. Read my father’s Speech1 and pored over the Intelligencer until I was weary. Then read more of the letters of Gouverneur Morris. I find I appropriate only an hour or at most two of the morning in any reading. Another, for walking, and the rest divides itself into writing, Accounts and Newspapers. Is this working to the best advantage.

I walked and went to inquire about Wood, but found it high. Returned home and thence to dine at P. C. Brooks Jr.’s with my Wife. Nobody else. Returned at four and read Anquetil. This is a book that does not require much study, but I began Alison on Taste which cannot be read superficially to any purpose. Returned in the evening to bring back my Wife. Supper. I did little afterwards.

The last week has been given up far too much to dissipation. It unsettles my mind and disorders my body. It injures my taste for that simplicity of life which is after all the great end of human existence, or rather I would say, the true means, by which the great ends are accomplished.