_Monday._ Rose at an early hour and took a long but pleasant walk with Mary. At school I recited a lesson in Sacred History and had the pleasure to hear Miss Pierce say I had said a most excellent lesson. In the afternoon I learnt in my Blair that poetry is the language of passion, or of enlivened imagination, formed most commonly into regular numbers. I also learnt that a person who composed a letter must write with ease and familiarity, simplicity, sprightliness and wit. Our lesson was very interesting and I recited without a mistake, but it fully convinced me that I was not born with a genius for letter writing. After school took a delightful walk with Mary and Charlotte Storrs. Went with dear Theodosia Devaux who is from Camden, S, Carolina to see Harriot Kirby. * * * Went with Mary to take tea with Clarissa Seymour. C. Marsh, E. Welch, E. Storrs and L. Seymour were there. I spent my time very pleasantly. In the evening we recited anecdotes, one was—A man who kept an ale house by a pound was frequently visited by the students who wrote over the door “Ale by the pound.” The Proctor of the university unwilling to have them visit it, complained to the Vice Chancellor who ordered the ale keeper to appear before him. This request was readily complied with, but as soon as he entered the room began spitting and clearing his throat, the Vice Chancellor asked why he did so, he replied—Sir I came here to clear myself. Well how do you do, asked the Vice Chancellor. Very well I thank you. Go! says the Vice Chancellor for an impudent villain. He left him and meeting the Proctor who had complained of him, he told him the Vice Chancellor wished to see him. He went, and the ale keeper spoke and said, Sir you bid me go for an impudent villain and I have brought you one of the worst I ever knew.