A spring day. I went to Quincy and to the old Mansion which I now found quite neat and calm, and attractive. Nature in her calm mood contrasts strikingly enough with the fury of the political storm, though after all nature in her turn sometimes shows herself savage enough. I am busy in completing all my minute matters of business, and trying to think of every little thing I could, that might need my attention. Had I not been born exactly where I was, my own sympathies would have carried me into the quiet and elegant seclusion of literary and rural life. And now where I witness it, as I do today how turbulent and cheerless does my own prospect look! Home to dinner. No authentic news, but various rumors, the most painful of which is the destruction of the Norfolk Navy Yard and of most of the vessels there by the government in order to prevent their124 falling into the hands of the enemy. All this indicates great want of forethought, to say the least. And the arrangements around the Capital, especially in regard to Baltimore and the establishment of communications with the Free States do not look quite so energetic as they might be.