Morning pleasant. Passed in reading Mr. Burke and wasting much of the time. After
luncheon, walked out with Thomas and paid visits to the Secretary at War and Mr. King’s
Gallery of Paintings where we lounged until late. On my return, I was occupied in
writing a rough draught of a letter to Mr. Brooks, but as I proceed in it, I feel
less confident in my success. Extraordinary as it seems, I have a most singular feeling
when I take up my pen to address him and can write nothing to please me. Evening at
home, and very quiet.