Morning clear and a little pleasanter, but still somewhat cheerless. This weather coming after that which was so pleasant makes the feeling of it just so much worse. I was tempted to diverge a little from 234my path and drop into Cunningham’s Auction room where I found the books of Mrs. Humphreys going for little or nothing. There were many French and Spanish works which I should have been much pleased to have possessed and for a moment or two the temptation was exceedingly strong to remain. I mastered it however by going away. For me of all persons it is the highest degree of absurdity to purchase books—Having at my own house a very respectable collection of works, and at my Father’s a very large one.

At the Office my time was passed in reading over the laws respecting Administration upon intestate insolvent Estates. And I then devoted an hour to Aeschines, making some progress. But at my Office I have no facilities, and though my business which should properly take up my time here is not sufficient without hazarding much waste, yet in attempting to make any other use of the moments, I find myself as if working out of the line. Afternoon, began Demosthenes, whose Oration I find much harder on this second reading. Probably because I took only the sense when I went before. Evening reading the Tour in Silesia for an hour to my wife, and Demosthenes for two by myself.