Morning cloudy with snow which surprised me. The contending powers of heat and cold begin to struggle during this month and make it the most uncomfortable of the year. I went to the Office, where I read some of Sismondi, and wrote a letter to Roger Jones Adjutant General1 and received one from my father inclosing the bond executed on his part.2

No public news excepting the developements of the fraud carried on in the Commonwealth Bank which exceed all hypothesis. Here is the key to the follies of the last two years. Yet how many men who are guiltless will suffer and how many of the perjured villains will go un-whipped of justice. This is life and as such we derive a lesson.

Home. Sophocles. Oedipus of Coloni, though apparently not more difficult it is very clear to me what a difference my College study 400which I looked down upon has made in this and the other. Afternoon, Aristotle, Politics in which there is much wisdom. Evening finished reading the Lay of the last Minstrel, a poem with much poetic fire, some invention, much sweetness and only disfigured by it’s tawdry display of hero Scotch freebooters as deserving of historical renown. Afterwards Potter’s Archaeology.

I was roused at three o’clock this morning by my Wife who soon gave indications of the necessity of Dr. Bigelow’s presence. I accordingly went for him in the midst of a snow storm and in the extraordinary silence of the streets. I never before had occasion to observe this. No wonder that thieves select this period as their most favorable time. I got home by five and my time until breakfast was passed anxiously when I was notified of the birth of a fine boy with less suffering than on former occasions.1 I felt deeply grateful to the divine being for this continuance of his mercies and could hardly realize that it should be so, having suffered my mind to receive some general impression from the gloomy fancies in which my Wife has indulged. It snowed hard all day.

I went to my Office for an hour but could do very little. Mr. I. P. Davis called with a man named Savage who brought some coins and a medal or two to look at and to buy. I do not at present feel very rich and so made him an offer which he hesitated about accepting and I seized the hesitation to put him off.

Home. Oedipus, but my occupations are very much put to flight for the present. Afternoon, Aristotle, against which the same objections lie, so in the evening, I amused myself with the Pirate2 which however did not prevent me from going to sleep. Blessed be God for the favorable result of this day. I rejoice with trembling.