Morning at the Office but did not remain there for I passed a part of it in the Supreme Court and the remainder at Auction. I purchased some books very low but few for which I cared any thing. The sale was stopped on account of the sacrifice made upon the books. After dinner, I went to see the paintings in the Gallery of the Athenaeum. They did not strike me very much excepting Trumbull’s Sortie at Gibraltar, and a few of the Landscapes. From thence, not having seen Mr. Jones about the Paintings as my father directed,1 which was my principal object, I went to Dr. Welsh’s to take a measure of the bed for a bedstead and to look out the keys of the Quincy Trunks. Having done this, I then went to take a cold bath at the Western Avenue. The water was cold and it was not altogether pleasant. Evening at home. My mind perplexed.