16. Friday. Office. Writing letter to Bout-
cher &c in the evening.
17. Saturday. Office. To Bellew�s in the evening.
18. Sunday. Down town as far as Reade Street.
The day an intensely cold one, insomuch that on putting
one�s head out of doors, beard and moustache were in-
stantly congealed into ice from frozen breath. Yet it
began to snow � steadily.
19. Monday. Down town early. I never saw
the city present such an Arctic spectacle. The storm
had continued all night and was still in progress. Snow
lay in deep banks, while other spots were comparatively
bare, areas were half filled shops snowed up &c. Dig-
ging out in progress everywhere, mountainous sleighing,
and a flurry of snow obscuring all objects at ten yards
distance. Talk of no cars running, rail-trains stopped
and shipwrecks down the bay on that inevitable Jersey shore.
To Express office. To Office. An anonymous
letter arrived couched in the most horribly revolting
brothel language containing half coherent threats � one
�to have the heart out of� The Editor or Editors. I
never saw anything so singularly obscene and atrocious.
No language but its own could convey a hint of the
insane hatred and horrible images suggested by it.
It is just the lowest phase of American character.
Democracy sans culotte.
20. Tuesday. Office. A letter from Hannah.
To Clinton Hall in the evening, to hear Curtis lec-