“Parturiunt montes, nascetur ridiculus mus.” The Centinel after this long delay publishes nothing but my number and five lines of comment that had better have been left alone. I fancy the poor gentleman finds himself in a maze and no helping hand to get him out. But I do not relish this awkward sort of postponement. Silence is the word. I am therefore reworking my two numbers in order to add more potency to the pills. Finished the second draught of No. 3 this morning.

At the Office engaged in Accounts at the close of the Quarter, then to Mr. Durand whom I paid for the Picture of Mr. Brooks. He has much improved the coloring of that of my father. My late acquisitions are very valuable. In the afternoon I went out to see Mr. Hallett but could not find him. Left both draughts of my No. 3 that he might take his choice.

Home where after reading some of Thiers I sat down to No. 4 and gave it a good deal more depth and force. I am not one of those 169 clever people who ever make a thing shorter by working it over. My ideas are always too much condensed and require developing. Evening with my Wife, after which I sat down and nearly completed my fourth number which I design to force out the party if any thing will do it.