It snowed the greater part of the night and this morning the weather had all the appearance of our Easterly winter storms. I remained at home until quite late doubtful whether to go out at all and amusing myself with Wieland. But it seemed likely to stop snowing at noon so that I took advantage of the time to go to the Office and finish the draught of my Quarterly Account to be forwarded tomorrow.1 This it is a relief to get off my mind. My father by his sales is however so rapidly simplifying his measures of pecuniary concern in this Quarter that after next year it does not seem probable there will be much necessity for labour. I did not walk owing to the depth of the snow. Afternoon. Correspondence, J. Adams and Edmund Jenings. After which d’Israeli and Wieland’s Oberon. A charming poem written with all the flow and simplicity so peculiarly adapted to a Fairy Story.