an (of Mill) up to a certain point I should
have found it impossible to go on with him. His politics and morals are
not mine at all, though I believe in and admire his logic and his
general notions of philosophy.'

He reached Suez on May 5, and on the way home resolved at last to knock
off work and have a little time for reflection on the past and the
future. India, he says, has been 'a sort of second University course' to
him. 'There is hardly any subject on which it has not given me a whole
crowd of new ideas, which I hope to put into shape,' and communicate to
the world. On May 12 he reached Paris, where he met his wife; and on the
14th was again in England, rejoicing in a cordial reception from his
family and his old friends. The same evening he sees his cousin Mrs.
Russell Gurney and her husband; and his uncle and aunt, John and Emelia
Venn. Froude met him next day in the pleasantest way, and Maine and he,
as he reports, were 'like two schoolboys.' On the 15th he went to his
chambers and called upon Greenwood at the 'Pall Mall Gazette' office. He
had written an article on the way from Paris which duly appeared in next
day's paper. Not long after his return he attended a dinner of his old
Cambridge club, with Maine in the chair. In proposing Maine's health he
suggested that the legislation passed in India during the rule of his
friend and himself should henceforth be called the 'Acts of the
Apostles.'

One of the greatest pleasures upon reaching home was to find that his
mother showed less marks of increasing infirmity than he had expected
from the accounts in letters. She was still in full possession of her
intellectual powers, and though less able than of old to move about, was
fully capable of appreciating the delight of welcoming back the son who
had filled so much of her thoughts. I may here note that Fitzjames's
happiness in reviving the old bonds of filial affection was before long
to be clouded. His uncle, Henry Venn, died on January 13, 1873, and he
writes on the 30th: 'somehow his life was so bold, so complete, and so
successful, that I did not feel the least as if his death was a thing to
be sad about,' sad as he confesses it to be in general to see the
passing away of the older generation. 'My dear mother,' he adds, 'is
getting visibly weaker, and it cannot now be a very long time before she
goes too. It is a thought which makes me feel very sad at times, but no
one ever had either a happier life or a m