Still very cold though a little easier than yesterday. I read Oberon as usual until ten o’clock and then went to the office. But the principal part of my day was taken up at a Picture Auction where after all I purchased nothing but a little thing which I did not want and yet was cheap enough. When we came to the ones I did want there was interference on the part of the owner who withdrew them. I lost my morning.

Short walk. Home. Ovid. The doctrine of Pythagoras which is admirably given. On the whole I regard this book with much pleasure. My absence from my own library renders it impossible for me to read it with such zest as I do when able to consult parallel descriptions but this I will not again allude to. It is a perpetual want. Afternoon, Letters. James Lovell.

I sit now in my study in the Evening but do not improve the time as much as I might from want of definite object. I am employed now upon papers which are not yet in a condition to put in any shape. And this employment keeps me back from any other.