The morning brought with it a great change in the weather, and a brisk wind from the Eastward which made it very cold. I remained quietly at home reading with the exception of a visit to the house and up in town. I am looking over works of political Economy which give no new ideas and the study of which is like wasting time. As a relaxation in the afternoon, I take up Pliny’s letters with which I am much pleased. They describe life and manners perhaps not so vividly as Cicero but still strongly. Evening, read a chapter of Tucker’s light of Nature.1 My studies are thus desultory enough, but this may well be as yet when I am still in the enjoyment of a fresh return to books.