Our weather now is generally cloudy. I do not mind it much for I am now so deeply interested in my pursuit of German that I forget other things. This is as I like to be. But I wish I could pitch upon something fit to translate. This would exercise my mind and it’s powers.

At the Office where Mr. Brown the broker came for the purpose of closing the sale of the New England shares by proposing an offer for the remainder of 2 per cent premium which I instantly accepted, and wrote a Letter with the particulars to my father1 which took me the remainder of the morning. Walk. Ovid, the pretty story of Ceyx and Halcyone.

Mrs. Everett and Miss Lydia Phillips with Edward Brooks dined with Mr. Brooks. Pleasant enough. Afterwards I finished the Bubbles which are on the whole amusing but I cannot forgive him the assault upon classical learning. Read also Mrs. Jameson’s Diary of an Ennuyé, which is got up prettily enough, but whether founded in fact or entirely imaginary is a little doubtful. I sat down to Faust and made great progress in him and yet not half great enough. I devour it.