Mild day. I find myself not yet quite able to get through a luxurious dinner with impunity. With all my caution I was uncomfortable until sun-down. In the morning I went to the City, and attended Divine service in the Church of St Mildred in Bread Street. This is another of Sir Christopher Wren’s designs, and though having his marked architectural character, varies in some particulars from most of his works. There are no round windows here, nor is there so much light as he commonly obtains. This may be owing to the fact that the organ observes one of three large windows relied upon to light the whole interior. The finest feature is the ceiling, which springs lightly from the walls and is rich with carving. Close by the side of it affixed to the wall are the Royal arms and the initials C. R. Thus we are reminded that this edifice was constructed at the time when that immaculate specimen of piety, Charles the second, was the head of the Church. The service was well read to about twenty worshippers, after which a sermon on the text, “Give us this day our daily bread.” The only ideas were that the word “bread” conveyed a general petition for all needful assistance, and that this petition did not imply any neglect of the greater need of a spiritual life. On my return home I found my Despatches and the American newspapers from Washington, which so far as they went were reassuring, I took a walk, westward of the Regent’s Park, and to my surprise found myself at Hampstead before I turned to come back. Quiet evening. Read a little of Dr Phillimores International Law in the evening