A mild spring morning. I went to Quincy by the early train for the purpose of transacting business at the Bank and giving some directions at the farm. repairs are making at the house so as to put it in readiness for my son who goes there just at the ordinary period of our own removal. I cannot visit my library without some qualms, for it is endeared to me by its associations of nearly half a century. And brilliant as has been my brief career in public life I feel as if it at the end of my present mission I should relish nothing so much as retirement for whatever was left of my days, and the preparation of my father’s papers for publication. The first sentiment of antipathy with which I think of any scene connected with my political action, illustrated must strongly upon the occasion of my last visit to Washington, is too unequivocal to leave a doubt in my mind on that point. returned to the city at eleven o’clock, and spent the remainder of the day in despatching letters and answers. I sent a reply to the invitation to dinner, declining the civility and endeavouring to give a useful turn to the event. The news from the South continues exciting. A collision in my mind seems inevitable. The feeling in the Free States is rising to the point of a quarrel.