A light coating of snow visible early, and it was wet all day. I had less than usual to make up today for the mail, having really but one correspondent at present, and that is my son John. I also wrote a short letter to Charles, though it is by no means clear to me that any thing we write ever reaches him. Thus far we have heard only once from him since he has been at his post. I had spare time enough to go down and look at another house in Great Cumberland Street, but it disappointed me as they all do. We had a small company to dine. Mrs and Miss Hobson, Mr Rawle, Mr Tucker, and Mr and Mrs Sturgis. They stayed pretty late.