Cloudy and dull. At the Office, read a little of Lingard, but far the greater part of my morning was taken up in business. Deacon Spear called and made settlement for the wood sold at Quincy, and he is a slow moving body. I then was engaged in drawing up an Account for Thomas B. Adams as I received this morning his last Dividend for the year. I did not finish it before Mr. Ladd, a Tenant, came in and kept me settling with him until after my hour for dinner, not merely that for my walk. The consequence was that I encroached upon the afternoon to accomplish my work and take exercise, without which I cannot now get along.

The funeral ceremonies for Dr. Spurzheim took place this afternoon, but owing to my engagements I did not attend them. Quiet afternoon working upon German Catalogue. I find my ignorance of the language a very serious obstacle. After next month, one of my first labours must be to settle a system of study to acquire this language.

Evening at home. Read to my Wife the rest of Romney’s life and the whole of Owen’s—A coat and waistcoat painter. It is strange how little I know of the English school of Artists. Worked upon le Trepied d’Helene.