Weather singularly mild and pleasant. Our whole month of February has been quite uncommon. I went to the Office and was engaged for some time in affairs and in writing my Diary. A little of the Parliamentary Debates, some talk with Mr. Walsh and a walk made up my morning.

Afternoon, reading Dubos, whose critical reflexions are very excellent generally, but who nevertheless manifests his French notions now and then. The fact is not a little singular that the French people who generally are not so remarkable for method and rule in small affairs, are yet perfect slaves to ideas of convention in all matters of thinking. The English, perhaps the most exact business men in the world, are bold and irregular in their intellectual exertion.

Began the Heautontimorumenos1—A Latinised Greek compound. The Romans were in their Literature prodigious borrowers. Evening, being disappointed in getting tickets for the play, we sat at home and I finished the Absentee. I resumed the study of German this evening.