an English gentleman of large fortune who has done much to
Christianize Borneo, and to open its trade to the English. I sat
between him and Mr. Ward, formerly Minister to Mexico before Mr.
Pakenham. He wrote a very nice book on Mexico, and is an agreeable
and intelligent person. . . . On Wednesday A. and I went together to
the National Gallery, and just as we were setting out Mr. Butler of
New York came in and I invited him to join us. . . . While we were
seated before a charming Claude who should come in but Mr. R.W.
Emerson and we had quite a joyful greeting. Just then came in Mr.
Rogers with two ladies, one on each arm. He renewed his request
that I would bring my son to breakfast with him, and appointed
Friday morning, and then added if those gentlemen who are with you
are your friends and countrymen, perhaps they will accompany you.
They very gladly acceded, and I was thankful Mr. Emerson had chanced
to be with me at that moment as it procured him a high pleasure.

Yesterday your father and I dined with Sir George Grey. . . . About
four o'clock came on such a fog as I have not seen in London, and
the newspapers of this morning speak of it as greater than has been
known for many years. Sir George Grey lives in Eaton Place, which
is parallel and just behind Eaton Square. In going that little
distance, though there is a brilliant gas light at every door, the
coachman was completely bewildered, and lost himself entirely. We
could only walk the horses, the footman exploring ahead. When the
guests by degrees arrived, there was the same rejoicing as if we had
met on Mont St. Bernard after a contest with an Alpine snow-storm. .
. . Lady Grey told me she was dining with the Queen once in one of
these tremendous fogs, and that many of the guests did not arrive
till dinner was half through, which was horrible at a royal dinner;
but the elements care little for royalty.