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.]