Weather cloudy and disagreeable. Morning at the Office. Letter to my father. Blackstone. George. Afternoon, Dwight and Chapman at my room. The former is exactly what he was, and strikes me as having altered less than any man in the number of our class whom I have seen. We had a tolerably pleasant conversation until five o’clock when he was obliged to go. Davis came in and sat with me until evening. We drank some Champagne and on the whole did very well. I then took a walk and in the evening read part of Cicero’s Oration for Quintius.