Mild, winter day. I went to the Office. Engaged in writing and had a visit from Mr. Walsh, who conversed as usual upon the troubles of the money department which seem to be growing greater instead of 254less. Took a walk. Nothing else of material consequence. Walk. Afternoon, Bacon History of Winds, Adam Smith and Terence.
My time slips away so very quietly now that I hardly perceive its passage. Its uniform course leaves little to remember and therefore little to record. Evening. J. W. Gorham came in and spent an hour. He is studying medicine here but does not seem to have much foundation. Patronage and a few pages of Adam Smith.