Sunday, February 7th.—A month without news is very long to wait. Perhaps time passes a little more quickly than when one was dawdling and doing nothing at Hong-Kong; but still this life is tiresome enough. I do not suppose that there ever was a town of the same extent, or a population of the same number, more utterly uninteresting than the town and population of Canton—low houses, narrow streets, temples containing some hideous idols, which are not apparently in the least venerated by their own worshippers. The only other resource is the curiosity shops, and, as you know, I have not the genius for making collections.
February 9th.—Things have taken a better turn. F. by steaming at night from Macao to Hong-Kong caught Reed about an hour before that fixed for his departure for the North. He was delighted with my communication, and has written undertaking to co-operate cordially with us. This is, I think, a very great diplomatic triumph, because it not only smooths the way for future proceedings, but it greatly relieves our anxiety about Canton, as the Americans are the only people who would be likely to give us trouble during the military occupation.
February 10th.—We have got Putiatine's letter for Pekin. It is very good; perhaps better than any of the lot…. However, the entente is now established. My mind, too, is a good deal relieved to-day by seeing the wretched junks, which have been shut up so long by the blockade, with their sails set, gliding down the river. I sent Mr. Wade to visit Yeh yesterday, to see how he took the notion of being sent out of the country to Calcutta or elsewhere. He adhered to his policy of indifference, real or affected, I cannot tell which. I suppose it is a point of pride with him never to complain.
[Sidenote: Adieu to Canton.]
H.M.S. 'Furious.'—February 20th.—I am now off from Canton, never I hope to see it again. Two months I have been there—engaged in this painful service—checking, as I have best been able to do, the disposition to maltreat this unfortunate people…. On the whole I think I have been successful. There never was a Chinese town which suffered so little by the occupation of a hostile force; and considering the difficulties which our alliance with the French (though I have had all support from Gros, in so far as he can give it) has occasioned, it is a very signal success. The good people at Hong- Kong, &c., do not know whether to be incredulous or disgusted at this policy…. I am told a parcel of ridiculous stories about arming of Braves, &c. I heard that in the western suburb the people 'looked ill- natured,' so I have been the greater part of my two last days in that suburb, looking in vain into faces to discover these menacing indications. Yesterday I walked through very out-of-the-way streets and crowded thoroughfares with Wade and two sailors, through thousands and thousands, without a symptom of disrespect…. I know that our people for a long time used to insist on every Chinaman they met taking his hat off. Of course it rather astonished a respectable Chinese shopkeeper to be poked in the ribs by a sturdy sailor or soldier, and told, in bad Chinese or in pantomime, to take off his hat, which is a thing they never do, and which is not with them even a mark of respect. I only mention this as an instance of the follies which people commit when they know nothing of the manners of those with whom they have to deal…. We are steaming down to Hong-Kong on a beautiful fresh morning. I feel as if I was a step on my way home.
At Hong-Kong he remained nearly a fortnight, that his ship might be fitted to go to the North: his letter for Pekin being sent on, in the meantime, to Shanghae, by the hands of his secretary, Mr. Oliphant.[1]
February 26th.—To-morrow this letter goes, and still no mail from England. I think of starting in a few days, and calling at the other ports—Foochow, Amoy, and Ningpo. I have a line from Oliphant, who took up my letter to Shanghae, and made a quick though rough passage. We shall be a good deal longer on the way, and my captain advises me to be off, to anticipate the equinox. I have just written a despatch to Lord Clarendon, to tell him that perhaps I may go direct from Shanghae to Japan, and so home. It is almost too good a prospect to be realised.
[Sidenote: Home news.]
February 27th.—I had Reed to dine with me yesterday. He is off this morning to Manila, en route for Shanghae. The Russian returns on Monday, and we are going to Shanghae by the same route most fraternally…. Your accounts of the boys make me feel as if I had been an age away from home. God grant that I may get through this business soon, and return to find you all flourishing!
March 1st.—I received your letters yesterday…. How I wish that I had joined that merry dance on Christmas Day at Dunmore, and seen B. and R. performing their reel steps, and F.[2] snapping his fingers! You knew now how differently my New Year was passed—traversing that vast city of the dead—meditating over that 28th December which Herod had already hallowed…. These letters are my conscience and memory, the only record I keep of passing emotions and events…. Depend upon it the true doctrine is one I have before propounded to you: Do nothing with which your own conscience can reproach you; nothing in its largest sense; nothing, including omission as well as commission; not nothing only in the meaning of having done no ill, but nothing also in the meaning of having omitted no opportunity of doing good. You are then well with yourself. If it is worth while to be well with others—SUCCEED.