The morning was cloudy but without rain. I felt as I have of late inclined upon the occasion to feel a gentle sense of melancholy that the active period of life is passing with me, although less mingled than it has been with any sense of inertness on my part in making use of my advantages. During the past year I have done something towards earning for myself a reputation somewhat on a footing with that of those who have preceded me. And although my exertions receive no adventitious aid and experience much insidious hostility, they have not failed of their great purpose, the winning for me the good opinion of those whose good opinion is worth mentioning.

At home I have been blessed as ever, with uncommon good health among the members of my family, and with an escape from the cares and anxieties of the period to an extent which considering the nature of my undertaking at the outset is certainly worthy of reflection with increased reliance upon a divine providence which has ever been merciful to me and mine.

The day brought it’s usual number of little remembrances to the children with which they were gratified though not today so satiated as to react disagreeably upon themselves. I went to the Office where I was occupied in packing off my pamphlet and in Accounts. But these latter, I hope are not quite so numerous as they have usually been for I have taken pains to reduce them as much as possible. Home to read Herodotus. Afternoon at home reading the Correspondance which was more amusing again, but I feel a little ashamed to lounge so much. Perhaps there is no greater luxury than light literature, and yet no intellectual occupation attended with less profit.

Evening to Governor Everett’s in order to attend a small party given to Madame Caradori. There might have been thirty or forty there. Principally neighbors although without any very obvious principle of selection. There was singing by Miss Grant, Miss Bradbury, Mrs. Derby and by Madame Caradori—the latter of course the only one worth hearing. She sung a piece from the Tasso of Donizetti which was beautiful. Her singing is particularly charming. There is a perfec-373tion in her roulades which is not often found in the most accomplished performers. At Supper, I. P. Davis spoke to me of my Pamphlet, said Nathan Appleton had read it and approved of every sentiment. Perhaps he is as good a judge as we have. And I have no cause to be ashamed of my production. Home at eleven.

Extraordinary weather. The air is as mild as in the month of October. I went to Market and from thence to the Office. Time taken up principally in paying various demands which came crowding in. They are quite punctual this year for I think almost all must have come in at once. A. H. Everett also made a short call and talked politics. He had not much that was new to tell us of. But thus went the morning and I returned as usual to Herodotus.

Afternoon went with my Wife to make a call upon Madame Caradori. Found her at home, and without company. There was nothing of particular interest in the call. Home. My Wife went out to tea.

I attended A. H. Everett’s Lecture upon Bunker Hill. It was very brilliant. He has acquired through his preparation for the Oration of the 17th of June such an intimacy with facts as to be able to resort with success to what I conceive the most difficult of all oratorical composition, the making a picture. Passages were very well done and show a prodigious improvement in his elocution since I first heard him. But he was too long, and he had a cold audience.

Called at Mr. Frothingham’s and spent an hour. Two Misses Phillips and Mr. Brooks there, but nothing of note.

This weather has continued, growing if any thing better and better every day. Today was perfectly lovely. I went to the Office and was occupied in Accounts and paying bills most of my time. Nothing of any interest took place. The Newspapers have made up their course to all appearance in the same way as regards my Pamphlet as usual.1 I went to the Athenaeum and found no change.

Home after a call upon Mrs. Edes a Tenant, who has multitudes of things to complain about. Home to read Herodotus. This is the day the State Legislature assembles. Afternoon lounging over the Correspondence.

Evening, Mr. Davis came in to tea after which I went to the Concert 374of Madame Caradori. Full, but not crowded. She sung well but not so well as on Thursday. Her best thing is that piece from the Tasso of Donizetti which she sung at Gov. Everett’s. Fabj also sung very well tonight the piece from the Somnambula, but he evidently prefers patriotic songs.