A tremendous rain with a warm southerly wind which lasted all day. I did not go out early in the morning. The reason, because I was engaged to attend with my Wife the Wedding of Miss Julia Gorham, at 11 o’clock and did not incline to get much wet before hand.

At eleven, we accordingly went. The company had for the most part collected. There were all Mr. Robbins’ connections, consisting of father and sisters and brothers too numerous to mention. Then all Miss Gorham’s own which by her relations with the Warren family are extensive. Mr. and Mrs. S. K. Lothrop, he officiating, with Mr. Palfrey to make the concluding prayer,1 Mrs. Carter and Miss Taylor of Dorchester. The bridal party were Miss Anne Carter and Miss Mary Minot, Mr. Gardiner Gorham and Mr. Weld. Mr. Lothrop’s prayer was an impressive one and the bridegroom did what I never saw done before, he cried. On the whole, the affair was very properly conducted. The bride had intended to see her company immediately after the ceremony and go off after dinner on a journey. But the rain prevented almost every body so that we had to remain to keep up the spirits of the set. In this manner I had barely time to go down to the Office for a moment before dinner.

Julia Gorham is a fine girl, and I wish her much happiness. But her prospect does not seem to me very cheering. The young man is well enough but poor and without much of the energetic force which is your only preservative in our Community. There is another thing which even in our democratic country is a serious difficulty and is instanced here, a connexion between persons in different grades of life. To her no institution of a theoretical cast can make some of his relations agreeable—to him, some of her connexions will always be a source of vexation. I meditated upon this much and contrasted with my own 237condition which is about as fortunate as can in the nature of things be expected.

Afternoon at home. I am not yet regularly in order, and my pursuits are desultory.

Morning cloudy but it cleared afterwards. I went to the Office and occupied myself with Accounts. Mr. Walsh, Mr. Hurlbert and finally A. H. Everett came in. The first talking generally. The second about the Lease of this building, the last to make some inquiries apparently. He wished to know what my father’s views were about the Convention which was to be held. I could not tell him, but promised to find out. He told me that the Whigs were in division among themselves and an attempt was making to run up Samuel Turrell Armstrong. The arrangement that was contemplated to support Armstrong for the Mayoralty had failed by his refusal to accept it. I then told him of the attack upon my father in the Morning Post of yesterday and the surly criticism of his Article in the North American Review today.1

These political hacks are all alike. The Jackson party here is for keeping its influence and dreads any increase on any side which would be likely to diminish it. The talent and influence now concentrated upon the Advocate is a subject for excessive jealousy which occasionally peeps out as it did at the time of the Worcester Convention. I see very little light any where. The Country is overwhelmed by the multiplicity of selfish and ambitious men.

My path is a quiet one but it must be decided. Shut in as I am on all sides by barriers, of which my father has certainly raised the most formidable against me, I must pick my way upon the rock of general principle and upon that alone. Mr. E. is not so fortunate. He is poor and desperate, and must make compliances nobody shall get from me. I do feel for him and yet can do very little to help him.

Afternoon, busy writing. I am preparing a couple of numbers now which will I think have effect. The necessity of sustaining ourselves at this election edges me on. Evening at home.