My time has been taken up almost entirely in the attention requisite. I am more and
more pleased with her. I find in her every thing that I could wish. These days are
enchanting days. They are only to be enjoyed once in a man’s life.
I feel now that sort of quiet enjoyment and serenity which loves not disturbance,
but which would suffer days to roll on without any active exertion and without regret.
I have been for some days however, much troubled with a pain in my side, and I am
today attempting to cure it. In consequence, at home.
There is much talk of duels—in the political world, but none have happened yet. It
is uncertain whether there will be any. Parties are very warm indeed.2
I wrote to George the other day, giving him information of this affair.3
He will be much astonished no doubt. For he has been long about the same thing and
not yet succeeded.