Morning mild and the rain which had fallen heavily during the Night made the Streets very unpleasant to walk in. I went to the Office and despatched No. 4 of the Review.1 I was then busy the remainder of the morning in various ways quite sufficient to take up my time and yet not sufficient to justify myself for its use. Went to the Athenaeum to look up Papers for my next number but could not find them. So that I shall have to change my plan. Returned home again omitting to take a walk. How often this happens.

Afternoon. I read the Paradoxes of Cicero and began my fifth and last number. There is certainly one thing in writing. It consumes time very insensibly. My afternoons fly even faster than my Mornings.

Evening read to my Wife a part of the German’s Tale in the fourth volume of the Canterbury Tales. This is made the foundation of Byron’s Tragedy of Werner; in the preface of which that author very highly commends it.2 Afterwards, I went on writing and did nothing else besides, excepting the usual Spectators.

Morning mild and pleasant. I went to the Office as usual and after my regular duties, continued and finished the rough draught of my last Paper upon the Treasury Report. It is rather bitter upon the Secretary but not more so than he deserves for the very extraordinary course he has thought proper to pursue. The more I reflect upon it, the more I am satisfied there is some treachery at the bottom. It may seem rather presumptuous in me to deal so freely with the Secretary but I cannot conceal the impulses of my feelings in writing. Walked up as far as J. D. Williams’ Store to try Wine but I could not make up my mind to choose.

Afternoon. Read the Treatise of Q. Cicero upon the mode of soliciting the Consulship. A dry thing when compared with the inimitable grace of his brother’s style. Read also the famous dream of Scipio which is on the whole the most remarkable ancient Paper I ever read. It is impossible not to admire the genius which could have struck out so bold, so singular and yet so reasonable a path without any resources out of itself.

Evening, continued reading to my Wife a part of the German’s Tale, Kruitzner, the interest of which is remarkably sustained. Afterwards, I read the eighteenth book of Homer’s Iliad, an Article or two in the American Quarterly Review and the Spectators.

Morning mild and pleasant to the feeling but a very bad day in respect to the walking. I went to the Office as usual and made use of all my time, first in making up my Diary and Accounts, and then in taking off the fair Copy of my last Number of the Treasury Report Review. I did not complete it. This is a much greater task than it seems to be. It has filled five Sheets of Foolscap Paper and that written pretty closely on all four sides. The exercise however has been a very good one. I have found the benefit of it as well in clearing my own ideas as in subjecting me to labour and finish the explanation of them.

I had a considerable number of Commissions to attend to so that I went out early and spent an hour and a half in performing them. Mr. Brooks dined with us quietly. After dinner, I sat down to read the 219Treatise ascribed to Cicero, called Consolatio, written by him after the death of his daughter, but I do not for some reason think it is the genuine one. I therefore left off in the middle to begin Ernest’s Critical Preface.1 Evening, finished the German’s Tale which is very ably done from first to last. Afterwards, read over the 18th book of the Iliad and the Spectator.