Cloudy but mild. I went to the Office as usual and besides my regular duties, accomplished the concluding Chapter of Lingard’s eleventh volume. He dilates too much upon the reign of Charles. It is in the spirit of modern history to grow dull as it has to do with Parliamentary details. Debates are generally dry because the mass of speakers rarely do more than confuse a subject or at best leave it just where it was.

Took a walk as usual. Mrs. Angier dined and spent the day with my Wife.1 I passed the Afternoon in correcting my Article and re-writing a portion of it. I never should finish amending it. It is the last I try. Hallett does not publish any of my numbers and on the whole I do not see but my labours are pretty much at a stand still. Well, patiensia. It may come to good and if it does not, I do not feel worse situated than I was before. I worked most of the evening. One more Afternoon, and I give the very last touch I put upon that labour. Then it must go upon the waters. Mr. Beale came in and saw Mrs. Angier and spent the evening. I did nothing, but read the World.