The season of gaiety is drawing to a close, and I confess I am glad of it. A sense of duty has led me thus far to accept cheerfully all the disagreeables of society. It is putting a great deal of constraint upon my own nature which is reserved, and little calculated to push forward with any advances. Hence the prospect of being released from the labor be it only for a time is a relief. This day was passed very quietly. I wrote a letter to my Dr Palfrey, which has been delayed184 too long. I likewise finished the Manuscript volume of Mr Senior, which has been interesting throughout. I shall solicit for more. In the evening I went down to a reception in the evening at the Exhibition of old pictures at the British Institution. This is open every day to all comers who buy tickets, but at night it is accessible only by cards of invitation issued by one of the Trustees. Lord Stanhope had sent me one admitting me on one of the four last Monday evenings, so I selected this night. On the card it was stated that evening dress was expected. I found the rooms full of ladies and gentlemen, none of whom I knew excepting Mr and Mrs Russell Sturgis. The collection is a very interesting one, on account of the number of portraits by Van Dyke, and the assemblage of works of Sir Joshua Reynolds, contributed for the occasion by the different owners. There are many other good pictures, but these are the best. I had barely time to go over the whole cursorily before the close of the reception. I promise myself another view before long.