Rather a fine day, and totally quiet at my house. Brooks who has been at home this Sunday went back to School. I went out to pay a visit or two, and then to the Victoria Station to go to Mitcham. For some time past I have been looking about for some place in the country to spend a short time at, and the house agent pointed out this spot. The approach is through Norwood and Gryden into the flattest and least interesting part of Surrey. The house itself is a modest vicarage of small dimension in a plot of about two acres. A sight of it was quiet enough, without ascending above the first floor. And yet for this the demand was made of ten guineas a week. I returned by the train at five o’clock, having rather enjoyed the trip. Mitcham is evidently a very quiet and retired place with the same advantage of verdure and freshness so general in the rural districts of England. I liked the change, without having the desire ever to see ti again. Mr R C Winthrop Jr dined with us, and in the evening Mrs Adams had her customary reception. The most remarkable appearance was that of Lord Bruyham. He never took any notice of my letter of recommendation last year, given by Mr Everett, and his speeches on the present struggle have been such that I could not be present at any entertainment where he is expected to take a part. Yet here he made his appearance ushered in by our friend Mr Parkes. He made a lame allusion to America, and to a speech he had just uttered in the House of Lords, lamenting the unfortunate difficulty as if it was one purely of our making. He is visibly declining into senility which is his only excuse. The attendance was larger than on any previous occasion.