Clear and chilly. I am all the time engaged in writing answers to the enquiries of the Consuls. This morning I slipped out for the sake of consulting Mr Erickson a surgeon about my son Brooks. More than three months ago a cricket ball struck him in the head, and from that time there has been a small swelling under the hair which remains without much change. I have watched it but have not perceived any growth or decline. On the whole I determined not to let it go longer without at least taking advice. Mr Erickson thought the injury not likely to be material. And if it proved likely to be inconvenient, it could be removed, at any time. In other respects Brooks is not quite well, so I have concluded to detain him from school. He walked with me round the Regent’s park. I had visits. One from Mr Joseph Parkes Dr Palfrey’s friend and a very worthy man to whom I brought a letter which he never noticed. He spent some time with me talking of our affairs, and of the two Sumners Charles and George, both of whom he seems to understand well. He told me that the latter was the correspondent of the Post, which I have occasionally suspected. There have been several references to me that indicated an acquaintance with my past life not likely to belong to a correspondent of a London newspapers, as they generally run. I am sorry to learn that he is the writer, for the fact lowers my opinion of his patriotism and his principles. Mr Forster also called to see me and I had a long talk with him about our present relations. He seemed anxious to learn how things stood with the ministry, and I told him confidentially the main incidents. I said that I saw no present cause for difficulty. Yet it might happen for all that. He spoke of an article about espionage as likely to do injury. I disavowed all participation in it. This is Mr Sanford’s making. We had Sidney Books and his Wife to dinner and in the evening. Before they left, the Despatches arrived by the Steamer Niagara, and it was quite late before I got through the reading of the papers and the intelligence. A sad mixture as usual.265