sorrow so that "what is sent as a trial may not be turned into a judgment." (Baroness Bunsen.)

December 16th. Very bad news of the Afghan War. General Roberts is isolated at the Shirpur canton.ment.

December 21st. Dr. Butler in his concluding speech at the Head Master's Conference said, "They had heard (like the Queen of Sheba of Solomon) of Eton, but now there was no more spirit in them."

Miss Prichard, Mrs. Coleridge's pretty pleasant niece, has been drowned at Blandford while skating. "Canst thou be of the dead, the awful dead?"

December 24th. I saw a remarkable Sunset from Salt Hill,-great wings of red light like an Angel's radiating from N. to S., afterwards changing colours -opal, green, pink.

December 25th. Dear L. gave me several of W. M. T.'s Works, which I did not possess.

December 26th. Dear Edward is reported to-day to have been severely wounded at Jugdulluk in a night attack on a fort, while defending a convoy. I got Richmond Ritchie to forward a Telegraph if possible. Arthur Coleridge came and talked very kindly about Edward.

December 29th. Good news from Kabul of Roberts' decisive victory. There has been a fearful catastrophe at Tay Bridge.

The chief books I have read of late are Lanfrey's Napoleon, Trollope's Thackeray, Catherine and Crau

furd Tait, Farrar on St. Paul, Silas Marner, James' 'Life of Hawthorne.' But I have had neither time nor health for much reading.

This anxiety about Edward is a sad ending to a sad year. Throughout the autumn Dr. Hornby, Joynes, Warre, Cornish, Luxmoore, Cameron, Merriott, Donaldson, have all been most kind and sympathetic.

1880

My Journal for this and the next two years is very sad, and therefore I omit very much of it.

January 2nd. I played Fives with Harry. He read with me some of Creasy's Fifteen Decisive Battles.

January 8th. Lunched with Alec Shakespear. He told me of his critical isolated condition during the Mutiny in 1857. The revenue, £25,000 in silver, was concealed in a well, and at last sent on four elephants to Meerut.

January 11th. I went to see my poor sister at Brighton. She complains of Rheumatism. Was glad to find she plays on the Piano sometimes. Sir John Low is dead (æt. 91). Ainger, who is at the Bedford, kindly asked me to dine with him. I have been reading de Tocqueville's Ancien Régime, and Buckle's Life, and Peile's Philology.

February 10th. We have heard a little more about Edward. The bullet went in at the wrist, and ran to the elbow.

February 12th. The 3rd edition of my Anthologia Latina is out.

February 13th. A Telegram from Edward. "Wound doing well, bone uninjured."

February 24th. I was weary and sick at heart with thinking of dear L. Dr. Ellison thinks her very ill.

February 25th. A Nurse came. Mrs. Hornby sent her grapes. I have so much to do that I cannot see

her much.

March 14th. Joynes came and kindly administered the Holy Communion to her.

March 24th. Harry returned and said "I'm top. I've got a prize!" This pleased Louisa. I have 3 Pupils in the 'Select' for the Newcastle-WhiteThomson, Joynes and Tatham.

April 7th. Went to town to see Mrs. Bayne and talked to her about my trial. "We do not think enough (she said) of the happiness of the future world." A very sad evening. It brought the news of Octavius Irvine's death from the bite of a Cheetah.

During these Easter holidays I took Ada and Harry up to town to see the Tower, and to Richmond.

April 29th. Dear Louisa was prayed for in Chapel. May 4th. I have had a great burst of sorrow. May 6th. I told Ada and Harry that we feared dear Mamma might not recover.

May 7th. The terrible blow has fallen. May I never

forget her sweet example of self-denying goodness, and patience and submission to the cross sent her! At 12 o'clock I read the last prayers of the Visitation Service. Dr. Ellison came. The children came in, poor darlings, once or twice. At 3 she seemed to sink into a weaker state. I read several Hymns.-'The Saints of God.' 'When our heads are bowed with woe.' 'Jesu, meek and gentle.' She said, 'how nice.' At 3.20 Isabella told me she was gone, which I hardly believed. Her eyes looked so beautiful with an indescribable quiver, a looking out at something beyond us. Her thoughtfulness for others was very remarkable,—for me and for the children that we should not see her pain-and for the servants. Dr. Ellison said "She was a noble woman."

May 8th, 9th. Many letters of kindest sympathy from Masters. Joynes came and took me out.

May 12th. The Funeral largely attended by relations and friends. I went in the morning to the seat in the Playing Fields, where in 1860 she had fixed our wedding day.

May 15th. Many letters from old pupils. I began some work.

May 17th. I have written many letters, 50 in all. May 20th. Inge has got the Porson, the first Eton man since Thring in 1844 who has done so.

May 24th. Cameron came to tell me he has taken the Living of Mortimer, and leaves at Christmas.

One of the most trying incidents at this time was

having to go through with the construing of the Alcestis: I could hardly bear up in the description of her facing death from self-denial for her husband's sake, and in that most affecting parting scene with him.

June 4th. Isabella took the children to town, and I went to the Isle of Wight. [During the latter part of the schooltime I went away once or twice for the day.]

July 29th. We came to Eastbourne. This, with the sea-bathing, did the children much good. Harry had the Mumps there. I went for a few days to Cambridge, staying in King's, and met with much hospitality; saw Cooke, Welldon, Bradshaw, Fred Whitting, Prothero.

November 4th. I felt my loss as keenly as I have ever done.

November 10th. Had a very kind letter from H. A. J. Munro.

November 28th. Dean Stanley preached a remarkable Advent Sermon in Chapel. Not moving when he should have done so from the Pulpit, he lost his way among the boys and I conducted him out.

December 12th. Welldon has lost, poor fellow, his Father, a sister and a little brother within a year!

December 15th. Had a very kind letter from Dean Stanley. Once in the Athenæum he said with intense feeling to me after the death of his wife, whom I said I once met,-" And were you not immensely struck with her?"