Morning clear with a cool West Wind blowing pretty strong. I went to the Office as usual and sat myself down to study Demosthenes with attention and to try my hand at translation. I expected to have proceeded much more rapidly than I did and found accurate translation to be difficult. Something must be given to the genius of the tongue. But my purpose will be at first to be sure to get the precise sense after which I shall be better able to render it into elegant English. Translation is more difficult than composition inasmuch as it requires that two languages should be made to convey the same ideas in the same spirit. But my occupation was so interesting as to engross me very much so that I did not go to see Mr. Brooks as I should have done. Afternoon passed in reading more of Aeschines. It is now I find the benefit of having read this work, for I am no more puzzled and distracted by ignorance of words and thus since yesterday have read thirty pages in Negris which before cost me a month. I now also see the beauty of the style. I was able to pursue the subject until late in the evening as my Wife was out, and I only went down for an hour to Mrs. Frothingham’s where we had a pleasant little Oyster Supper, and returned early.