Busy as possible in disposing of all the work of the week, in advance including the usual letters to my son John, and a note or two to Lord Russell. There is one however which I leave undone, that requires much attention and care. In the afternoon a walk calling on my way to visit Sir Charles Lyell and the Minister of Central America. Neither was at home. London has now pretty nearly assumed its torpid appearance, at least at the West end. Such is the gregarious character of the nation that few are willing to incur the suspicion of desiring to remain after the fashion has departed. Yet to me it is usually a period of the most pleasant relief and satisfaction. Were my family contented I would cheerfully remain, at least during the warm weather. The autumn is less agreeable. My daughter’s condition however is imperative this year.84