This is my son John’s birth day, and he is thirty years old. As I myself advance toward the end My thoughts turn with more and more interest and tenderness towards my children. John is now established in life with a Wife and two children of his won. Heaven has been merciful and bountiful to me. Let me rejoice with trembling. I had visitors all the morning. Mr Parkes come in to remind me of a mysterious outgoing of his, last night, which the newspapers of this morning have explained by a notice that Mr Mason had signified yesterday to Lord Russell his intention to shake the dust off his feet from this inhos­468 inhospitable land, and to retire to Paris where Mr Slidell is better treated. This looks to me like a very foolish move, for it has a tendency to soften the animosity that is growing up among us. It has the aspect of a triumph on my part, which they might as well have avoided to give Messr H. W. Beecher and his companion whose name I have forgotten came in whilst Mr Parkes was talking and they remained some time. After them was Mr J. Randolph Clay, paying a visit of civility. By reason of these interruptions I found it difficult to finish a letter to Edward Brooks—and I had to give up a trip I proposed to Hastings to look for a house in that direction. The ladies prefer a short sojourn at the seaside. Walk and quiet evening. I am reading aloud the Lady of the Lake to the family.