A lovely day. At home. Transplanting trees. Evening at the Mansion.

This was a very remarkable day. I spent two or three hours of the morning in commencing my promised article for Mr. Hunt, but the beauty of the weather was such that I sallied out to avail of it in setting a few more trees, but I have nearly made up the complement for my piece of ground. The mode of making a plantation is undoubtedly perseverance only, and I have now carried it on very steadily autumn and spring for three years without as yet any very visible result. This would at first seem discouraging but it is the nature of all plantation not to realize soon. Afternoon so tired of writing that I went on with Menzel 315whose book has dragged for some days. The Courier published my second paper this morning which reads pretty well. Evening at my father’s where were Miss Harrod and E. C. Adams.