Morning cloudy with these thick mists which have prevailed for so long. But the day became afterwards fine. I went to the Office. Oc-246cupied in Arrears of my Diary against recovering which there appears to be a spell. Mr. Walsh came in to amuse me much and then T. K. Davis with another Bowdoin Prize Dissertation. We got engaged talking and the whole morning slipped away—So that I returned to my house at the hour I fixed without having done much.

An hour which I was able to spend upon Juvenal today consoled me. I do recur to the quiet of my classical studies with delight. None of the corruptions of politics, the dirty places in men’s hearts and the violence of the passions to observe, none of the need of watchful self control which although it may exercise the character too often degrades the moral sensibilities. I will persevere in my hour to the old folks.

Afternoon, copying from the J.A. MS—A long paper of Shaw’s which is valuable only for the Account to be found in it of his fugitive pieces in the Newspapers of the time.1 Evening quiet. Finished Beckford’s little book.