Warm day. At home. Evening visit to Mr. Lunt.

This was of the hottest of the season. I passed my time very busily in copying and gave only an hour to my study of the subject of credit, and another to Menzel. We dined at my father’s but I read twenty sections of Tacitus nevertheless. On the whole a very industrious day.

The copying is the most laborious part and that which perhaps is the most serviceable to me. Yet it is a tribute due to excellence from her own family which she is not likely to receive excepting from me. Could I do any thing of my own that would do me more credit? I doubt. In the evening I went to Mr. Lunt’s. Dr. and Mrs. Woodward there. Conversation general and not interesting.