Day very fine. Morning in town. Afternoon at home and evening at the Mansion.

My time was engrossed in town much as usual, but in a manner not at all interesting to record. I only note that I found the things which had been stolen from my house at the police Office, including a few I had never missed.

Lucretius, 713–920. Every now and then he blazes up with a fine poetical burst, like the march of the seasons today. The days are however getting so short as materially to diminish study.

Evening, Mr. Price Greenleaf was at my father’s and general conversation. The men were blasting again today with good success.