My morning was spent in my own accounts, and in preparing my regular report for the quarter to the government. I had some visiters two who consumed a little time. At four Mrs Adams and I went with henry and Mary to Grosvernor House, where we were admitted by a card sent to us, a sight of this gallery of pictures of the Marquis of Westminster— We had seen them cursorily and imperfectly the other evening so as to get not real idea of them. The gave me the first real idea I ever had of the power of the old artists. Some portraits of Rembrandt, a couple of Salvator, a couple of Hobbema, several Claudes, one or two of Rubens, and many more than I cannot recall fascinated my attention. Indeed I may say that there is an unusually small gathering of bad pictures. The house is filled besides with a great may articles of curiosity and value. The Marquis is reported to be the richest nobleman in Great Britain. His income is guessed at (for nobody knows) at a thousand pounds a day. But he has nowhere so rich a treasure as is found in the picture gallery which comes to him as an inheritance from his father, like the rest of his wealth. He does not look to me remarkable in any sense. We spent a couple hours there and came away reluctantly. Evening spent in quiet at home.179