"_Immediate_ politics sicken _me_ as well as you. I do not (with a zealous friend) groan over 1881 as unrelieved gloom, completed by the murder of an amiable and innocent President: but I deliberately conclude we are launched in a season of TRANSITION that _must_ have its sadness just as has a war: and it is wise to look on beyond the troubled years.... The course of change may largely depend on events in India which not one Englishman in a thousand dreams of. In 1881, thus far, I rejoice in the incipient elevation of Greece, and the probable deliverance of Armenia. I think the great Powers _will not_ quarrel over the carcase of Turkey: and though Frenchmen may justly make outcry against French ambition in North Africa, yet as an Englishman and a European I do not regret it. As _I_ see no power but Russia who can impart improved rule to Armenia and Persia, so no one but France can give it in North Africa. My _immediate_ interest in the politics of the High Powers is to see them combine against the Slave Trade, in Turkey, and _in the Pacific_. In domestic Politics I care _most_ for the social and moral questions, which are painful, pressing, and disgracefully delayed. But all will come; and the great question of Landed Tenure will aid the best influences.... "I am your affectionate old friend, "F. W. Newman." On 26th Nov., 1881, Newman caused some copies of the following letter to be printed and sent round to his friends, etc.:-- "My dear ----, "Friends are always greedy of details concerning sudden illness. This is my excuse for sending a printed circular. "In short, my general health continues as excellent as usual; but I have received a sharp warning, which I would gladly be able to call a mere fright. After many days of close and continuous writing, I found myself suddenly disabled in my right hand. I could not interpret it as merely muscular. There was no inability of motion or grasping, but want of delicacy in feeling, which made my pen slip round in my fingers. I was forced to conclude the _brain_ involved. "Therefore it seemed possible that I was only at the beginning of real paralysis. Prudence absolutely required me to back out of two engagements. This illness, such as it is, has not come on in a day, and demands time for cure. Some ten days of cessation have somewhat (but very imperfectly) restored my power of writing; but I must not undertake any tasks at present. My sole remedy has been to keep the arm warm. It is still somewhat weak. I wished, if this affection were temporary, to say nothing about it; but that has proved impossible. "I am, yours as ever, "Francis W. Newman." * * * * * There are many allusions to this trouble of the arm in later letters. Indeed, it is impossible not to see how very much it has crippled his handwriting; he mentions once or twice that he finds it very difficult to keep his hand steady.