Quiet day at home. Weather dark and cheerless. Busy all the daylight in finishing the long draught of a letter to Lord Russell, and in bringing a portion of the arrears of this Diary occasioned by my visit to Chatsworth. We are now waiting with such patience as we may command the news of the issue of the great election. The Steamer expected is not one of the fast ones, so that we heard nothing of it today. I took a walk down the Harrow road, which is on the whole the claim of this vicinity, round through Perivale to Castlebar hill and home. Quiet evening. Read some of the Autobiography of Scott. It will not add to his reputation. There is an open exhibition of foibles which detracts from the dignity of the hero. It is impossible to call him a great man whose mind is perpetually wallowing in the littleness of self conceit.