_The Right Rev. Dr. Grant, Bishop of Southwark, to Mrs. Hope-Scott_.
My dear Mrs. Hope,--Although there is no artistic merit in the enclosed, I hope you will allow me to send it on account of the meditation which it suggests, how our dear Lord had the thought of His sufferings present to His mind in early childhood--indeed, from the first moment of His earthly existence. This thought may help to strengthen us when we reflect that He has not given us the foretaste of our sorrow, but has allowed us to grow up without any anticipation of distinct sorrow and suffering; and, for the first years, without any thought of their coming at all. When affliction comes at last in all its real bitterness, we can lighten it by uniting it to His sorrow, and by asking Him to remember His promise of making it easy to us.
I should not have troubled you so soon if it had not occurred to me that the days which follow the announcement of a cause of grief are often more trying than the commencement of them, and that during them the need of consolation may be more felt.
I do not know why I should intrude my poor sympathy upon you, but when we have shared in joy it seems ungrateful not to be willing to have a part in sadness, and therefore I hope you will excuse me....
Mr. Lockhart never got over the death of his last-remaining son. His health began to fail; he went to Rome for change of climate; came back worse, and soon after went down to his half-brother's at Milton-Lockhart. Thither Mr. and Mrs. Hope-Scott went to see him, and entreated him to come to Abbotsford. He at first decidedly refused, and his will was a strong one; but some time after, when the house was full of Catholic guests, he suddenly announced that he wished to go immediately to Abbotsford. He arrived there, hardly able to get out of his carriage, and it was at once perceived that he was a dying man. He desired to drive about and take leave of various places, displaying, however, a sort of stoical fortitude, and never making a direct allusion to what was impending. To save him fatigue, it was important he should have his room near the library, but he shrank from accepting the dining-room (where Sir Walter Scott had died), and it required all Mr. Hope-Scott's peculiar tact and kindness to induce him to establish himself in the breakfast-room close by. There he remained until the end. Yet he would not suffer any one to nurse him, till, one night, he fell down on the floor, and, after that, offered no further opposition. Father Lockhart, a distant cousin, was now telegraphed for, from whom, during Mr. Lockharts's stay in Rome, he had received much kind attention, for which he was always grateful. He did not object to his kinsman's presence, though a priest; and yielded also when asked to allow his daughter to say a few prayers by his bedside. Mr. Hope-Scott, in the meantime, was absent on business, but returned home one or two days before the end, which came suddenly. He and Mrs. Hope-Scott were quickly called in, and found Miss Lockhart (affectionately called in the family 'Cousin Kate') reading the prayers for the dying. Mr. Lockhart died on November 25, 1854, and was buried at Dryburgh Abbey, beside his father-in-law Sir Walter Scott. The insertion of these particulars, which are of personal interest to many of my readers, will perhaps be justified by their close association with the subject of this memoir.