Chilly, raw and uncomfortable. Wrote several letters, and particularly one to Mr Everett. Had a visit from Mr Evarts and Mr Montgomery Gibbs, who wanted a letter to Mr Milner Gibson. Down to Prince’s road. Nothing hill to find Mr Francis M Johnson who has come with his Wife and family from Quincy to spend a year or two. Since I left, he has been in the State Senate, besides acting as my successor in the Mount Wollaston Bank. I only found his Wife at home, who looks as if she would rather be in Quincy. Walked home; a matter of four miles. Dined out, with Mrs Adams and Mary, at Mr Richard Brinsley Sheridan, the grandson of the dramatist. Present, Lord and Lady Lyveden, Lord and Lady Clarence Paget, Mr and Mrs Low, Mr Milner Gibson, Mr Hayward, Mr Delane of the Times and one or two more whom I did not know. I sat next to Hayward, who as usual was full of gossip. He had seen Lady Palmerston and Mr Stuart, the proterolist of the conference. His inference was that that celebrated assemblage would come to nothing. They had met only once, had talked of the proposal of an armistice, and had referred to their respective governments for instructions. The adjournment had been sine die. The German game is well played. That of the English, wretchedly. We went from here to Lady Derby’s first assembly. Crowded as usual and dull. We walked through the rooms as rapidly as possible in order to go to Lady Waldegrave’s, where was the customary crowd. As my good friend Dean Milman remarks, there is little satisfaction in these ceremonies, the whole duty being confined to shaking hands and passing on. Home at half past twelve.