Cold and clear. I went to the Office. Received a pleasant letter from T.B.A. at his station in Florida—Fort Drane the 20th of March.1 He is in good spirits and as yet perfectly well. God grant, he may keep so.

I was engaged in money affairs receiving Dividends &ca. The Suffolk Insurance Co. is unusually bountiful this year. But in this matter of money enough is as good as a feast to all those whose hearts are not corrupted. I made another application to the Merchants’ Bank today but was again put off. This kept me down in the street so long that I lost my Livy.

Afternoon at home—Nothing. Read Rose’s translation of Berni’s Orlando Inamorato2 and Fouqué. Finished another volume of MS. Letters with those of R. King and Izzard. Evening, quietly at home, North American Review—Popular poetry of the Germans.3 Afterwards, Swift’s Account of the dissensions in Athens and Rome,4 a Whig Pamphlet of his, previous to his political conversion.