Cloudy, dull weather. I went to the Office and was occupied there for some time. Received letters from T. B. Johnson who is at New York just arrived from England1 and A. H. Everett at Washington.2 The former could not restrain himself from returning, even in the winter, notwithstanding his dread of suffering from the voyage. He now goes to Washington whither he desires me to transmit to him an account of his funds, and this I sat down to execute this morning.3

The other letter is a curious one. It’s only object seems to be to repeat to me a request made by President Van Buren through him for two more of my Pamphlets. He says that he did not get those he understood I had sent to him. This conversation took place at the dinner mentioned in my letter from my Mother yesterday, at which Abraham the son mentioned my Pamphlet to I. Hull. This looks a little inconsistent, for first, how should the President have known of my sending to him before, secondly, where could Abraham have got his opinion. I infer the whole to be a contrivance to flatter me with the view of operating upon my father’s course on the Subtreasury bill in the House, where he might save it or kill it. This is a little confirmed by what is given in the same letter of my father’s opinions. I was much edified by this exposition of the case, and wrote in reply to Mr. Everett a very frank exposition of my own views,4 my entire distrust of the doctrines of Mr. Webster and the Bank Whigs, my dissent from Mr. Van Buren, and the impossibility of my acting with any party satisfactorily to myself. If he shows this letter, it will not lead Mr. Van Buren very far into my father’s opinions, and if he does not I shall be satisfied with having avoided the trap set for me.

I forwarded the Pamphlets as desired but without a letter. The copy-12ing these, took most of the afternoon. I read Sophocles however. Evening, sat with my Wife until nine and then Ferguson. Louisa still poorly.

My uneasiness about Louisa much relieved although she still seemed poorly. My Wife better. I went to the Office and occupied myself with drawing my Account for the Quarter with my father in order to perceive its consistency. This took just about my usual time.

Kirk here from Quincy about the work to be done, came in on my horse and detained me a good while in talking of nothing. Walk to see horse who looks in good condition. The idea of going to renew the work at Quincy is a little burdensome this year. Particularly as there is some little preliminary fitting up. But variety is the spice of life. And after it is all done I hope we shall enjoy it.

Home. Sophocles. Electra. Afternoon, coins. My Wife had several of her family visiting her, and Gorham Brooks took tea and spent part of the evening. The remainder with my Wife after which I finished Ferguson.

This was one of my dies non. 1 I woke with a slight feeling of tightness rather than pain which developed itself through all the stages of head ach until it became one of my worst kinds. I managed to employ the morning, particularly as I had Deacon Spear, and Mr. Stearns the tenant making a call about the House which he takes at the raised rent. I then walked until dinner time to try to cure myself but without success. The air was pleasanter than any time hitherto this season. I have no afternoon nor evening to account for excepting in suffering.

Fine day. I passed an hour upon the coins which go on slowly, then to attend divine Service. Heard Dr. Frothingham who preached from 131. Corinthians 15. 26. “The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.” Some fine reflections upon the moral preparation necessary to render death less painful ending with an eloquent application to the late instance of Dr. Bowditch.1

Walk with my daughter and call afterwards upon Dwight for the fifth or sixth time without success. Then met Davis and short walk with him. Abby came down to dinner today for the first time.

Afternoon, John 3.6.7.8. “That which is born of the flesh is flesh; and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit. Marvel not that I said unto thee, Ye must be born again. The wind bloweth where it listeth and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, and whither it goeth: so is every one that is born of the spirit.” I confess I did not pay the attention to this discourse which I ought to have done.

Afterwards, one of Buckminster’s Sermons upon the reasonableness of Faith in continuation of last Sunday’s discourse. The text the same. He considers faith to be nothing more than belief in evidence of testimony. This does not quite satisfy me. Nobody has seen God at any time. Nobody knows the sun will rise tomorrow. The idea of a future state of rewards and punishments rests in most minds not altogether upon testimony. Yet faith attaches to each from reasoning independently of testimony. A strong argument in favor of Christianity from the spread of the gospel as a matter of faith at the close. In the evening my Wife sat down stairs. Conversation after which I wrote a letter to my Mother.2