Morning clear and pleasant. Our weather is on the whole uncommonly mild. I hope it is not to be followed again by so severe a winter. At the Office where I accomplished much of Lingard. I think every body ought to read him who wishes to form a clear notion of English History, but not without closely comparing him with other writers. He admits something in regard to Mary. Others will explain the rest. He claims for her a merit she probably deserves, which in others she has not had attributed to her. He certainly is skilful in shading his pictures.

Took a walk and stopped to look at House 105 Tremont Street which has been lately vacated by Mr. Brackett. It must be repaired. Afternoon, worked hard upon Antimasonry and continued it in the evening. I have finished three numbers and shall now offer them for publication previous to going on with more.

Quiet evening reading Undine with my Wife. I this night finished the Idler, making the twenty fourth and last Volume of my edition of British Essayists. I have been two years, one month and thirteen days, in going through them at the regular rate of two Numbers nightly.1