To be called away from the happy home which he so rarely enjoyed and enlightened, and to be sent out again to the ends of the world on such a service, was no light sacrifice even to his patriotic spirit; and the feeling of this was perhaps aggravated by the half-hope cherished during the first few weeks, that any day he might be met by tidings that the Chinese had made the required concessions, and that the affair was settled. The following extracts from his Journal reflect something of this. [Sidenote: Gloomy prospects.] _Sunday, April 29th.--Off Sardinia._--So much for my chronicle; but I write it with a certain feeling of repugnance and self-reproach. It was very well on the occasion of my first voyage, when I wished to share with you whatever charm the novelty of the scenes through which I was passing might supply to mitigate the pain of our separation. But this time there is no such pretext for the record of our daily progress. I am going through scenes which I have visited before, on an errand of which the issue is almost more than doubtful. When I see my friend Gros I feel myself doubly guilty, in having consented to undertake this task, and thus compelled him to make the same sacrifice. And Frederick--what will he think of my coming out? It is a dark sky all around. There is only one bright side to the picture. It is very unlikely that my absence can be of long duration. If such ideas were to prevail in England as those which are embodied in an article on China, which is to appear in the forthcoming _Blackwood_, I might be detained long enough in that quarter; but these are not the views of the public or the statesmen of England. What is desired is a speedy settlement, on reasonable terms--as good terms as possible; but let the settlement be speedy. This, I think, is the fixed idea of all. Gros tells me that when he took leave the Emperor grasped both his hands, thanked him with effusion, and said that not one man in fifty would make such a sacrifice as he (Gros) was doing.