Morning cloudy but it cleared away with a chilly East Wind of this Season of the Year. After reading Aeschines as usual I went to the Office where I occupied myself in my common way. Mr. Peabody came in and we had a pleasant conversation for some time. It is a very agreeable thing to talk with a well informed man of talent. How few in our Society are entitled to the character. I read in review of La Politique Naturelle but from some unaccountable reason or other I do not get along much in it. Yet I like it better than at first. Took a walk and returned home.

After dinner, employed with one interruption in reading the Oration for Plancius which appears to be one of the highest of the efforts of Cicero. I shall reserve what I think upon it until the time when I have finished and reviewed it.

Evening. My Wife wanted me to leave Walsh, and begin reading the second Volume of Moore’s Life of Byron which I did. The impression produced by any thing relating to that individual is melancholy. Having finished Mackenzie whose book I have been much interested in, I spent an hour in reading d’Israeli’s Second Series of Curiosities of Literature.1 A book of chips. I think these are rarely useful. After this, the usual numbers of the Spectator.