The morning set in dark and hazy, and it soon began raining, and continued hard and steady during the whole day. I went down to the Office and sat there all the morning without serious interruption. I began the work of Pufendorf but unaccountably I could gain very 69little ground indeed in the pursuit of it. The author appeared difficult and my mind was in one of those moods when it seemed impossible to fix it to any thing permanent so that I spent the time in reading over the first Chapter without the Notes, which I postponed to some other time. But was discontented with my morning. I tried to see Mr. Brooks but could not succeed. Dr. Welsh came in for a single moment to inquire whether in making an appraisement of the books of a deceased person, they should be valued singly or in the Mass. I told him that I had in my brother’s case pursued the former plan and thought it much the most advisable, but was doubtful whether it was generally practised.

After dinner, I read a considerable portion of Aeschines and translated what I had read yesterday. But it occupied me fully for the entire afternoon so that I had the evening only which I passed in reading Clarissa Harlowe to Abby. This book possesses considerable interest although it does trail into interminable longueurs. Richardson had great talent at description and that until it extended to objects of the smallest and minutest nature–and his mind was not so exalted as to be able to look beyond them, at higher and more distinguished marks. I am glad to have a chance to read loud as it exercises my lungs which have been for some time unused to public delivery. After Abby retired I read La Harpe’s Chapter on the Philosophy of Plutarch.