CALCUTTA,
January 15, 1841.

MY DEAREST SISTER, After a long cessation all our letters came to hand—all from September to November 4th. You had been doing your Mimms, which I never think sounds comfortable. Indeed, I remember seeing the place once and thinking it very melancholy, damp, and dead-leafish.

Yes, as you say, as long as Chance is alive there is a wall between Dandy and death; but then you know spaniels live longer than terriers, and at all events it would be a sort of preparation to Dandy to insinuate to him that Chance has lost his last tooth, which the faithful Jimmund, his servant, has had set in a silver ring.

You have never mentioned that you have a new clergyman of the name of Hazlewood at Greenwich. You never tell me anything in confidence whatever, after so many years; and after all, I don’t see the use of making such a mystery of it. “But I have often observed a little spirit of nonsense and secrecy,” as Mrs. Norris says, about your clergyman, that I would advise you to get rid of. Your Hazlewood (you see I know his real name) is brother to our Captain Hazlewood, commonly called Harum Scarum. Hazlewood Scarum got a letter by this last post saying: “Lady Buckinghamshire, who is a constant attendant at my church, is, I find, a sister of Lord Auckland’s. You cannot imagine how much I wish to make her acquaintance. I think our mutual interests in India,” etc., etc.

Probably by this time you may have seen him. Our Hazlewood is going home next week in the Hardwick. The wounds he received at Ghazni[496] were very severe; and he rattles about, and dances and rides, and proposes and breaks off his engagements, and altogether he has never let himself get well, and has suffered so much from his arm lately that his general health is beginning to give way, and Doctor Drummond has ordered him home. A man who goes home on a medical certificate has his passage paid by the liberal Company, and gets £50 a year while he is in England; so that upon the whole a slight wound is not such a bad thing. I am rather on the look-out for a generous adversary who will wound me just up to the pitch of being ordered home, and having my passage paid, but not a bit more. Poor Hazlewood’s is much more than that; but the voyage will probably set him up, though he will never have the use of his arm again. As he will go to Greenwich to see his brother, I have given him a line to you. It will not entail upon you more than a dinner, and he is a very good-humoured, obliging creature, and not at all vulgar. There is not the slightest chance of his spoiling the view at Eastcombe by setting that little wretched stream the Thames on fire; though I have no doubt he will try, as he always must be busy about something. He may give you a flourishing account of us, as we are all going on very well, I think.

The Admiral[497] has made a shocking mess of China—at least he has done nothing, and the force and the ships and the money have all been wasted, leaving things just as they were a year ago. Now he has given up the Command, writing most pitiable accounts of his being in a dying state from disease of the heart, with no chance of reaching home alive; and for the last ten days we have been believing this and pitying and defending him. And now to-day George has a letter from him, written on board his son’s ship, saying they were all on the way home; that he thought he had mistaken his complaint, which was now merely liver, and that he felt nearly well again. It is an unhappy bit of his career, and such weakness is rather odd in such a stern, stiff-looking man as G. Elliot.

Charles[498] is now left sole Plenipotentiary, and if he can but keep to his own mind two days running is clever enough to do very well; but he is terribly vacillating. She wishes very much that she was with him just now, and I can fancy she might be of use in keeping him up to the mark; but she cannot go during the present monsoon, and except for the pleasure of seeing Charles again, I think she will be very sorry to leave Calcutta. Ever your most affectionate

E. E.

Miss Eden to Mr. C. Greville.

CALCUTTA,
January 17, 1841.