Morning still darkling and wet. I went to the Office and occupied myself much as usual. Accounts and Diary. Went through all my business which has been heretofore hanging in arrears and carried down to the Advocate Office the third number of my Address to Mr. Slade. The pressure is so rapid upon me that I fear I shall not do myself justice. And it is important to put him in a corner if possible. I mean to try and think I certainly should succeed if I had more time. But the moment is important as the Convention for amending the Vermont Constitution is about to sit.

Home after going to the Athenaeum. Livy whose account of the Tarquins is edifying. In the afternoon I ought to have continued writing but this constant work makes Slavery and I determined to enjoy the afternoon over the third Volume of that strange medley of thought and learning, the Doctor, a book written as I have no doubt by Southey.1 This has the peculiarity about it that a reader follows it along without knowing exactly why, or being sure he is not wasting 307his time. Evening at home. Read Gil Blas and after it, Goethe, which I will pursue.

Rain and thaw. It is now a week since we have seen the light of the blessed sun. Those who are dull will be more dull and those who are cheerful will not feel usually bright. For myself, I feel unconcerned because I am occupied and health still reigns in my dwelling. I thank God and disregard the weather.

Read the Doctor and attended divine service all day. Mr. Frothingham preached to an empty house. 148 Psalm 8. “Snow and vapours; stormy wind fulfilling his word.” He explained how weather might be said to fulfil and then exhorted persons to disregard all the vicissitudes of atmosphere when considering them as having an ultimate good purpose. I have heard the Discourse before. Afternoon Matthew 7. 12. “All things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do you even so to them, for this is the Law and the Prophets.” I could not fix my attention.

Read a Discourse of Dr. Barrows from Hebrews 13. 17. “Obey them that have the rule over you.” Spiritual rule he confines it to mean and explains in this discourse who they are—A discourse designed for Church discipline and therefore of no great interest. Finished the third Volume of the Doctor, and retired early. The wind being so high as not to allow a fire in my “workshop.”

Morning still gloomy being the eighth day that the sun has been covered. I went to the Office and occupied myself in matters of account and Diary. Wrote an answer to Mr. Treadway’s last letter which has been a good while on hand.1 The tone of Mr. Greenleaf is such that I fancy nothing but L.A.W. will satisfy him. I should rather it would be he than I to meddle with it. Nothing of further consequence.

The streets were in so bad a state that I found it impossible to walk, and so I called at the Advocate Office to ascertain respecting my next publication, then home to read Livy—The story of Lucretia. I do not know why all this Account of the early ages of Rome should be deemed fabulous. Livy professes to draw it from ancient writers and the stories themselves appear to bear substantial marks of proba-308bility. The mythology is evidently engrafted upon it and can be easily separated. I must look into Niebuhr and see what he says about it. He is the great preacher of doubt, but the Chevalier de Beaufort led the way in France.2

Afternoon, I was obliged to go and attend a meeting of the Directors of the Boylston Market Association, prior to the regular annual one. I am tired of this work and mean to throw it off. Discussion upon the Accounts of the Carpenter and Masons for building the Fish Market. As usual the expense was above the estimate, about a thousand dollars only in this case. Such is the usual way with buildings. Afternoon consumed, and at last referred to a Committee—Accounts of Treasurer and Clerk of the Market likewise. Home. Evening Gil Blas and writing No. 4 of Slade.