I had two hours of this morning tolerably uninterrupted in which time I read much of the rules of Pleading in Marshall’s Law of Insurance. The weather was very chilly and disagreeable, a continuation of the storm of Saturday which in it’s effects proves much worse than I had supposed it to be. Mr. Curtis came in, to learn what my father desired to see him about on Saturday which I told him and he seemed quite sorry. It does not amount to much after all.1 Col. Jones the Auctioneer at Weston came to notify me that a sale of the Wood at Weston would take place on the 13th day of this month. I was glad to hear of this as I began to be apprehensive that I should not get the business done and it is desirable on account of my father’s situation that it should bring him some Money. I can hardly dare to hope although it is worth a considerable sum. The sale I shall feel obliged to attend. He had not left me before Titcomb came, being brought up by my threat that I would prosecute him directly. I got nothing out of him but promises, which he supposed might go down smoother from the circumstance of his bringing a Client with him. A certain Captain 65Lufkin who wanted to get his share of a Mackerel trip which he had earned some time in the year 1824. This is the first Client I have had since my Marriage. His case is a doubtful one, and after examination, I postponed a decision until he obtained stronger papers, which he promised to do and then left me.2 My Uncle, T. B. Adams called and finding me so busy went away again. He was doubtless a little surprised. Thus my morning was fully taken up.

After dinner, I continued my Catalogue, and read another portion of the Oration of Aeschines which was a little more difficult. I believe I mastered it at last. As Abby had gone out, I had two hours more which I spent in reading La Harpe on the remainder of Cicero. This Author writes well, but was too full of the French revolution not to crowd in much matter foreign from his subject, which however interesting to an auditory politically excited, agrees little with calm literary disquisition. I came across a violent tirade against the excesses of Robespierre, this evening, which find their true place not in discussions of Oratory but in History. At eight I went through the rain to Mrs. Frothingham’s for Abby, and found there, Mr. and Mrs. Everett, Mr. and Mrs. Edward Brooks, Mr. and Mrs. Frothingham and Abby. We had a little Supper and on the whole a pleasant time, but I felt a little silent. I do not know how it is but there is something about the singular character of Mr. Everett that shuts me up completely. Returned at ten.