We reached Columbia two days ago, after a long and disagreeable trip, rendered so by the low stage of water in the Ohio River. Our reception was warm and pleasant, and so far Mary seems highly pleased and contented “with the wilds of the West.[”]2 Mother has changed but very little in the last year, indeed I think she looks better than when I made her a visit last year. The political prospects in Tennessee are more flattering than I anticipated, the Democrats seem confident—say they have the state thoroughly organized, and rely with great hope on the lethargy and inactivity of the Whigs. My impression, however, is that sufficient excitement, does not exist, nor is sufficient interest felt by either party to prevent the election from going by default—it is all chance—it is as doubtful as the cast of the dice. The feelings of the people are not enlisted—they cannot, as in former days, be induced to swarm in crowds to hear discussions—their striking indifference is calculated to chill the leaders of both parties.

I will probably remain in Columbia until after the Presidential election—I think of entering the canvass—will make probably a few speeches in the lower counties of this district to identify myself with the contest.

I notice that Mr Martin Chargé d’Affaires at Rome has recently died. Who will succeed him? I cannot entertain a desire myself, being shut out by propriety, but would suggest, if agreeable to your feelings, that something might be gained hereafter by the appointment of Lewis Cass jr—if I am infringing the rules of propriety by even making such suggestion you will please pardon me, for the future is so dark to me, that I am glad to snatch at any light to dispel its gloom.

Make my best respects to Sister Sally, and assure her that I remember her many acts of kindness with sincere gratitude.