The weather is clear and delightful for the season. I went to the Office and occupied myself in Accounts. Prepared one for Mr. T. B. Johnson to whom I am about to transmit another quarter’s income. A. H. Everett came in and we had some talk but I had to leave suddenly at twelve o’clock for the purpose of attending the Wedding of my Wife’s friend Miss Anne Carter to Mr. James W. Seaver. In consequence of several deaths, it was private, no persons out of the family excepting ourselves and two young men who were to have been groomsmen attending. Mr. Young performed the ceremony and we returned a few minutes before one. A marriage is not a pleasant ceremony and yet it is always celebrated as if it was. I wish these parties joy although from my knowledge of them I should scarcely expect it would be unclouded. He is however old enough to protect her, and he is rich, at least the world says so. Home. Livy. Afternoon, Swift’s Tale of a Tub.1 Evening, finished Lamartine. I felt dull.