Still, the loss is irreparable, grief is unavailing, and you have duties to perform towards yourself as well as your friends. To mourn for the dead at the expense of these duties would be sinful. We shall never forget poor Mary, her memory will always be dear to us; but it is our duty to bow with submission to the will of that Being in whose hands are the issues of life and death. You know what a low estimate I have ever placed upon a woman without religious principles. I know that in your conduct you are guided by these principles, more than is common in the fashionable world; but yet if this melancholy dispensation of Providence should cause you to pay more attention than you have done to “the things which pertain to your everlasting peace,” this would be a happy result. I have lost many much-loved relatives and friends; but though age becomes comparatively callous, I have felt and feel deeply the loss of Mary and Jessie. Poor Jessie! She died breathing my name with her devotions. What can I do—what shall I do for her children? I send by the bag to the department a letter from the duchess, to whom, I believe, I have not mentioned our loss. Sir William and Lady Ouseley dined with me a few days ago. There were no persons present except ourselves. She sincerely sympathizes with you. Time begins to produce its healing influence on her grief, though both she and poor Sir William have been sadly cast down by their calamity. James Henry arrived here on Christmas evening after a passage of three weeks which he evidently enjoyed. He talks to Mr. Ward knowingly about every part of a sailing vessel. His plan of travel is quite extensive, far too much so for the sum he intends to expend. I shall gradually cut it down to more reasonable limits. No news yet of the appointment of my successor, notwithstanding the efforts of Mr. Appleton. I have not received the President’s message, but expect it on Monday with much anxiety. Should I then hear nothing of a successor or secretary of legation, I shall give them formal notice that I will present my letter of recall on a particular day; and should no person arrive in the meantime, that I will leave the legation in charge of General Campbell. January 4, 1856. I have received yours of the 17th ultimo, and am pained to learn that you neither see your friends nor take exercise since your return to Philadelphia. Your grief for poor Mary’s death, or at least the manifestation of it, exceeds all reasonable limits, and I am truly sorry that you have not more self-command. Although I know it is sincere, and it ought to be deep, yet you ought to recollect that the world are severe censors.