A return of sharp cold upon us this morning. The Winter is long and trying to people who are not in good circumstances. I accomplished a good deal of Gibbon at the Office not having quite so many Newspapers to read. But the detail of the breaking up of the Western Empire is dull. Nothing but a series of rapine, and devastation with the greatest barbarity. The effeminacy of civilization contrasted with the energy of untaught nature. Took a walk and enjoyed the day cold as it was.

Afternoon, engaged still upon the Oration for Cluentius, the examination of the condemnation of those Judges concerned in the trial of Oppiancius. Argumentative and as it seems to me very satisfactory. I believe when I read it before, the Account of the crimes of Oppiancius and Sassia is the only thing very hard for me to swallow. It seems scarcely conceivable that such a man and such a woman could be kept in Society at all. Much less in Rome famous for it’s Laws.

Evening quiet at home. Read the latter part of Hunt’s book to my Wife, into which he throws every thing he can muster. His account of his trip to Italy is in some respects better than any of the rest. It has his faults but more beauties.