Rain. Time as usual. Evening at home.

Office where I received another sheet of proof from Mr. Hunt. I should think the Lecture would make twenty five or six pages of his close text. What with one thing and another I bid fair to keep presses enough going at present. But this only pushes back the great work which I have on hand.1 I must go on with that and bring it to a creditable conclusion.

Home. Oedipus. Continue examination of authorities and as Elizabeth is with my Wife, I write all the evening. This advances things so much that I think I shall find my work easier than I expected. It will consist a good deal of extracts.

Wet and thawing. Time divided as usual. Evening at home.

My market day which consumes the time I ordinarily devote to Medals. Office where I worked a little upon my Quarterly Account. Nothing however that was effective. I soon left to go home where I read Oedipus Coloneus. It comes easier to me now and I have a much more full conception of the beauty of the piece. Afternoon, reading and continuing my work to which I devoted my whole evening in such a manner as to see land.

Mild but pleasant. Divine service as usual. Evening at home. Edmund Quincy.

I read two chapters in the Old Testament with my two children Louisa and John, and then heard the former go through her other exercises. Attended divine service and heard Dr. Frothingham preach from Psalms 4. 6. “There be many that say Who will show us any good,” a very beautiful discourse upon this text which I also heard Mr. Greenwood treat once with much effect. But the rest of the verse makes the answer. Afternoon Luke 14. 24. “For I say unto you that none of those men which were bidden shall taste of my supper.” The meaning of this to be a reproof of negligence, inattention to and rejection of the value of the Gospel.

A walk with my children round the Park. Evening, sermon by Mr. 372Orr in the English Preacher. Matthew 23. 23. “Wo unto you, Scribes and pharisees, hypocrites, for ye pay tithe &ca.” Text too long to quote but the subject the importance of morality above form.

I was at work finishing my review when Edmund Quincy came in who was pleasanter than usual, talking of general literature and indifferent matters. I was glad to get rid of disputed points. He went at eight and we intended to have gone out but it rained. So I finished my Article.1