I went to the Office this morning. My time after breakfast and in the evening is not devoted so usefully as I could wish; I lose ground in my German from the indifference respecting the selection of a new work to read. Supposing I select the Robbers of Schiller?

Mr. Walsh has got over his modesty and comes in to see me much as he used to do. He informed me this day of the unexpected result of the election in the Senate of the State of a Senator. They have unexpectedly made choice of my father on their part. This is one of the most singular political results that has occurred within my remembrance of political affairs. The present Senate of Massachusetts consists of Forty men not one of whom stands in any political relation with him. It consists of a large proportion of the old federal spirit which is as well as Masonry adverse to him. And yet the reputation of my father is too strong for them to resist. As a testimony to his character I think this is flattering although it is extremely doubtful whether it varies the general result.

I took a walk and read Ovid as usual. Afternoon engaged upon a new translation of Faust by a man named Hayward with a Preface in which he explains his particular opinions.1 He is very critical in his judgment of Leveson Gower’s production. His is a literal translation. It is interesting if not absolutely sound. Evening, reading aloud to Mr. Brooks. Afterwards d’Israeli.

The weather continues very cold. I went to the Office. Mr. Walsh spent an hour and I passed some time in paying a visit to T. K. Davis who had much of the News of the day. He tells me that the Suffolk Senators were five to one in the late vote. That one being B. T. Pickman. This is as curious as any thing. This information I have since found was not quite true—Franklin Dexter not having brought himself to this, threw away his vote upon Bates. This is a small alternative. The Legislature is in great agitation. Mr. Webster and Mr. Everett have been flattering each other. The latter, not suffering any feeling of friendship to prevent his sacrificing my father, has been instrumental in procuring this empty sound, this Legislative nomination of Mr. Webster to the Presidency, in exchange for which Mr. Webster urges the translation of Davis to the Senate so that room may be made for Mr. Everett next year. Mr. Webster knows very perfectly what he is about in all this. The presence of my father in the Senate would hardly be agreeable to him. His newspaper organs are the Atlas and Courier, while strange to say the Centinel and Gazette incline to the other scale in the balance. An editorial in the former of the two last is written with far more ability than J. T. Adams is commonly known 69by. Well, we must quietly wait for the development of all this matter.

Walk and home to read Ovid. Mrs. Gray and her daughter with Mrs. Hall from Medford dined here. The young lady is just engaged to Mr. Ign. Sargent the husband of her sister who died three or four years since. P.C.B. Jr. dined here too. The afternoon was much abridged by it. I continued Faust or rather Hayward’s Preface and began the Translation.

Evening I went to the Theatre. A melo-drama called the Wizard Skiff written for the famous Opera dancer, Celeste. She enacts a dumb girl disguised as a man and Captain of the Wizard Skiff. The story is taken from the Massacre of Scio, in which a Russian leading the Turkish forces is supposed to have murdered the father and Mother of the girl, to have violated her and left her with her tongue cut out. She fits out a vessel with the assistance of a Greek priest who was left for dead in the Massacre and they arrive on the coast of Russia many years afterwards where the Russian has retired to a Castle. It is to be presumed that this must be the Russia of the Black Sea. The interest consists in the hazardous situation in which the Greek girl finds herself while pursuing her scheme of revenge to successful completion. The usual quantity of fire and smoke is administered. The piece is not dramatic. One sees the issue too easily, but her performance is quite spirited. She afterwards danced a ballet dance called the Danse des Folies. That is in a Masquerade in the Opera of Gustavus She comes in dressed with the cap and bells of Folly and leads the Masquers. The idea is exceedingly pretty. She does not appear much altered from what she was when here before, and her dancing is perhaps more decided but scarcely better.1 A short interlude of Is he Jealous and we went home in fine season.