Day cloudy. Office as usual. Afternoon and evening at home.

I passed the morning in endeavouring to fill up the arrears of my Diary which are now constantly going on. I was also occupied in Accounts. Mr. Buckingham publishes this morning another number of my papers which are treated like all the rest. A little casual talk in private circles but not a whisper about them in the press. I have done my best with these and if they make no sensation will do no more. Exertion can scarcely go farther. Not that it has not produced some result, but it is so gradual as scarcely to be perceptible.

Home. Afternoon, reading the Life of Aaron Burr. Curious and on the whole more interesting than I could have expected. Evening quietly at home. Nothing of interest. Tried to write another paper but found myself dull.