The spring is now really advancing fast. The air is soft and the thorns are springing into blossom. Owing to the length of my yesterday’s conference I was thrown upon the necessity of preparing my report today. This put every thing back, and I was kept at my writing table from two in the morning until six when the bag came to take all the letters by the Steamer. It was fatiguing and left me only a short period for my exercise around the park. I went with Mrs Adams to dine with Mr and Mrs Reeve. The company consisted of Baron Gros, the Duke of Newcastle, Lord Kingsdown. Lord Stanley, Sir Edmund and Lady Head and their daughter, and Lady Molesworth. It was easy and pleasant. Mr Reeve is the conductor of the Edinburgh Review, a magazine once quite celebrated, but which of late has shared the fate of al such works, by losing the prestige of fashion. Home at eleven.