I went this morning to see David’s Painting of the Coronation of Napoleon. The subject is not one of much interest but the painting is certainly fine. I spent an hour in looking at it. I would it could have been three. My feelings became again very singularly worried and a scene which I had to go through with John Boyd put the finishing stroke to my patience. This is one of the two Nephews of Madame who owing every thing to her bounty have behaved in a most scandalously ungrateful manner. And my Mother has been delicate about them to such a degree as almost to encourage them in the abuse of her bounty. I knew them to be completely good for nothing and was therefore outrageous about this.1
So much so that I had no feeling of comfort during the rest of the day. It is my purpose to glance very slightly over this part of my Journal for it would distress me to give an history of my feelings, and there is no danger of my forgetting them although unrecorded. Charles King and Mr. De Wint spent the evening with us.