17–23 June 1872

When I awoke the sad truth flashed upon me, which is doubly painful, as one is unaware of the reality on first waking. After breakfast, when I thought of my dear friend Dr. Macleod, and all he had been to me — how in 1862-63-64 he had cheered, and com- forted, and encouraged me — how he had ever sympathised with me, and how much I always looked forward to the few occasions I had of seeing him when we went to Balmoral, and that this too, like so many other comforts and helps, was for ever gone — I burst out crying. Yesterday evening we heard by telegraph from Mr. Donald Macleod (for the first news came from the Glasgow telegraph clerk to Warren) that his dear brother had died at twelve that morning. I telegraphed to all my children, and could think of nothing else. I try to dwell on all he said, for there was no one to whom in doubts and anxieties on religion I looked up with more trust and confidence, and no one ever reassured and comforted me more about my children. I re- member that he expressed deep satisfaction at hearing such good accounts of them. . . . And then he seemed so full of trust and gratitude to God. He wrote a beautiful letter to Janie Ely on his birthday (June 3), in answer to my in- quiries after him, of which I annex the copy. His words seemed almost prophetic!