[Sidenote: A sister's death.]
October 30th.—How little was I prepared for the sad intelligence brought to me by your last![8] How constantly we shall all feel the absence of that good genius!—that Providence always on the watch to soothe the wretched and to console the afflicted. I had never thought of her early removal by death; and yet one ought to have done so, for she complained much of suffering last year, and all who knew her well must have felt that to make her complain her sufferings must have been great. She is gone; and she will leave behind her a blank in many existences…. Many years ago we were much together. She was then in the full vigour of her faculties…. I had ample opportunity then of appreciating the remarkable union of heart and head and soul which her character presented. Many of her letters written in those days were of rare excellence…. I feel for you.
October 31st.—I shall hardly recognise Scotland without her, so much did she, in her unobtrusive and quiet way, make herself the point to which, in all difficulties and joys, one looked…. Poor Maxwell has the satisfaction of knowing that all that was great and lovable in her flourished under his protection and with his sympathy. Perhaps that is the best consolation which a person bereaved as he is can enjoy. It is not a consolation which will arrest his progress along the path which she has trodden before, but it is one which will strew it with flowers…. Already, when this letter reaches you, the green weeds will have begun to creep over the new-made grave, and the crust of habit to cover wounds which at first bled most freely. It is also a soothing reflection that hers was a life of which death is rather the crown than the close; so that it will not be in gloom, but in the soft sunset light of memory that they who have been wont to walk with her, and are now deprived of her companionship, will have henceforward to tread their weary way. I see in that sunset light the days when we were much together—when she used to call herself my wife. In those days her nervous system was stronger than it was when you became acquainted with her. Her soul spoke through more obedient organs. Nothing could exceed the eloquence and beauty of her letters in those days, when written under the influence of strong feeling. She is gone. I do not expect ever to see her like again.
November 1st.—Poor Balgonie, too. It is another loss; very sad, though different in its character. When I saw him at Malta, I had not a conception that he would last so long…. On November 1st I am reading your thoughts of September 1st. How far apart this proves us to be!… I sympathise deeply in all those feelings…. To whatever side one looks there is the sad blank effected by her removal; even in my public interests, I cannot say how much, since I returned home, I owed to her thoughtfulness and affection…. Cut off as we are here at present from all immediate contact with home interests, it is difficult to realise her removal and its consequences to the full. It is a stunning blow from which one recovers gradually to a consciousness of a great and undefined loss. God bless you!… and grant that you may share her inexpressible comfort.
[Sidenote: Visit to Macao.]
November 8th.—I have been absent for four days on a tour…. I liked Macao, because there is some appearance about it of a history, —convents and churches, the garden of Camoëns, &c. The Portuguese have been in China about three hundred years. Hong-kong was a barren rock fifteen years ago. Macao is Catholic, Hong-kong Protestant. So these causes combined give the former a wonderful superiority in all that is antique and monumental.
November 14th.—I have received your letters to September 24th…. The Government approve entirely of my move to Calcutta, and Lord Clarendon writes very cordially on the subject.
November 15th.—I have seen the Russian Plenipotentiary…. He has been at Kiachta and the mouth of the Peiho, asking for admission to Pekin, and got considerably snubbed at both places, as I should have been if I had gone there. It will devolve on me, I apprehend, to administer the return, which is not, I think, a bad arrangement for British prestige in the East.
[Sidenote: Beginning of serious work.]
Steamer 'Ava,' Hong-kong.—November 17th.—My serious work is about to begin. I must draw up a challenge for Yeh, which is a delicate matter. Gros showed me a projet de note when I called on him some days ago. It is very long, and very well written. The fact is, that he has a much better case of quarrel than we; at least one that lends itself much better to rhetoric. An opium-ship came in from Calcutta yesterday. It brought me nothing from Canning. It is clear, however, that things are getting better with him. I think it probable that my despatch anticipating a favourable turn of affairs there, and founding on that anticipation a demand for reinforcements, will reach England at the very time when the news from India justifying that anticipation will be received…. The Government and public in England would not believe there was any danger in India for a long time, and consequently allowed the season for precautionary measures to pass by, and then made up for their apathy by the most exaggerated apprehensions. My mind has been more tranquil, for it has not presented these phases. As soon as I heard of Canning's difficulties, I determined to do what I could for him; but it never occurred to me that we were to act as if the game was up with us in the East.