In the autumn of 1859 he proceeds to Ireland, where his wife revisits the scenes of her early years. He returns to London, where he spends a happy Christmas in his domestic circle, with rapidly improving health.
In the spring of 1860, he attests his abiding interest in the cause of religious missions to India by attendance at an important gathering in Exeter Hall, to hear his friend Edwardes (of Peshawur) deliver a remarkable speech.
During the summer months he zealously promotes the holiday amusements of his children. Visitors, calling to see him on public affairs, would find him, not in a library, but in a drawing-room surrounded by his family. In the autumn he visits his birthplace, Richmond in Yorkshire. Thence he goes to Inverary to be the guest of the Duke and Duchess of Argyll, with both of whom he forms a lasting friendship. Then he receives the Freedom of the City of Glasgow and returns to London.
Early in the following year, 1861, he leaves London and takes a roomy old-fashioned house at Southgate, a few miles to the north of London, where he remains for the remainder of his sojourn in England. To the house is attached some land where he may indulge his taste for farming and his fondness for animals. In the week days he attends the Council of India in London, but his summer evenings he spends at home with his family, and mainly lives a country life.
His position in the Indian Council, where Sir Charles Wood (afterwards Lord Halifax) had succeeded Lord Stanley as Secretary of State for India, was not such as to call his individuality into play. Though he had a voice in the affairs of India, he was no longer a man of action. Even then, however, he impressed his colleagues favourably, and especially the Secretary of State. He felt and expressed great regret at the abolition of the local army of India, and its amalgamation with the army of the Crown. He was not what is termed in England a party man, but he certainly was a moderate Liberal in politics. As a churchman of the Church of England, he was content with his Bible and the Book of Common Prayer.
In 1862 he met Lord Canning, who had resigned his high office as Governor-General, returning home very shortly to die. Then he saw Lord Elgin appointed to fill the important place.
During 1863 he was running the even and quiet course of his life in England, attending to the work in the Council of India in Whitehall, which for him was not onerous, enjoying rural amusements with his family, playing games with his children, imbibing the country breezes, recovering as much of vigour and nerve as might be possible for a constitution like his which had been sorely tried and severely battered. He became much improved in health, and still more in spirits. He was in easy circumstances, having a salary as member of the Council of India at Whitehall, his annuity for which he had virtually paid by deductions from salary since the date of entering the Civil Service of India, the special pension granted to him by the East India Company, and the moderate competency from his savings during a long service of nearly thirty years. He was himself a man of the simplest tastes and the fewest wants, but he had a large family for whom he was affectionately solicitous. But while liberal and open-handed in every case which called for generosity, he was a thrifty and frugal manager, a good steward in small things of everyday life, even as he had been in national affairs. He nowadays acted on the principle that—
“The trivial round, the common task,
Will furnish all we ought to ask;
Room to deny ourselves; a road
To bring us daily nearer God.”
Thus he did few of the things which men of his repute and position might ordinarily do, and which doubtless he must have often been urged to undertake. He wrote neither books nor brochures, he hardly ever addressed public meetings, he did not preside over learned or philanthropic societies, he took no active part in politics, municipal or national. He sought repose, dignified by the reminiscence of a mighty past. Believing that his life’s work was in the main accomplished and his mission ended, he pondered much on the life to come. If there be such things on earth as unclouded happiness and unalloyed contentment, these blessings were his at that time.
But in the autumn of 1863, two events occurred in India to disturb the tenor of his English life. First, a fanatical outbreak occurred among some of the hill tribes near Peshawur, the British arms received a slight check, the excitement spread to some of the neighbouring hills, and seemed likely to extend with rising flames to the various tribes whose fighting power has been set forth in a previous chapter. Next, the Governor-General, Lord Elgin, was stricken with mortal illness and resigned his high office. The choice of the Government at once fell on Lawrence as his successor. That he was the best and fittest man for the arduous place, was manifest as a general reason. But there probably was a particular reason in addition for selecting him, which may have had weight in the minds of the responsible ministers, Lord Palmerston and Sir Charles Wood, namely the incipient danger just mentioned on the Trans-Indus Frontier. A little war might rapidly assume larger proportions; it was essential to preserve India, exhausted by the War of the Mutinies, from further warfare; none would be so competent as he to restrict the area of operations and to speedily finish them. If this additional reason had any operative effect, that was most honourable to him.