Morning at the Office and in Court. Little going on of any importance. The day rather dull and I was inclined to head ache. Read over my files of letters from my brother George. They amused me exceedingly and I could destroy only a few. The remainder I put up to be restored to him. Afternoon, in Court, and a Chapter of Adam Smith. Evening, Pope’s Dunciad in which I have never been able to take great pleasure. A slight fall of snow.