A very beautiful day. I read a little German and a few lines of Sir Thomas More. Then to the Office where I was engaged in my usual manner. Nothing material. Attended to the purchase and transfer of the State Bank Stock—And took a walk with Edmund Quincy. He tells me that Mr. Webster if nominated by the Massachusetts Legislature is said to be about to resign, as General Jackson did. What can be more absurd? Rendering himself useless to the Country in the capacity he can serve, for the purpose of watching an ignis fatuus. For his nomination can hardly be called a pursuit.

Home. Began the volume of the Fasti of Ovid—Having finished the Metamorphoses from which I have derived considerable pleasure. He writes so much that he writes both well and ill. But his well predominates. It is not always so.

Afternoon, went out to attend a meeting of the Committee of the Middlesex Canal. Committee annually appointed to look over the Ac-54counts of the Treasurer. Mr. Chadwick, Mr. Abbot Lawrence and myself. The former and I did the work with Mr. Eddy or rather I did half of it alone. But we all signed the Certificate. This Canal is becoming very good property. But it is subject to all the vicissitudes of the popular will in this Country. Home. Evening writing and d’Israeli.