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.