1851-1853] The Death of Jessie Sismondi 153 



and round the little garden looking so cheerful. And then 

 the day that separated us is apart from all other days, but 

 it is nt)t grief or melancholy that dwells on it. I feel as if I 

 had been permitted to see something of the rapture of a 

 higher nature " to whose white robe the gleam of bliss was 

 given." It is the loss of her that gives the sadness, there 

 is no other painful recollection connected with her, so that 

 I don't feel afraid that either Emma or I should be here 

 alone. 



HETWOOD LANE, June 13th [1853]. 



It was a painful thing the destruction of her and Sis- 

 mondi's journals, particularly, I think, the latter (to me), 

 because I believe he wrote his with a vague intention of 

 being made use of for the public eye, and Jessie wrote hers 

 for herself alone. I sometimes feel as if I were in a great 

 empty vault. She has certainly emptied the world to me. 



My mother also regretted this destruction of Sismondi's 

 journals, as she was convinced he intended them sometime 

 to be given to the world. But she said that Jessie got 

 into despair over making the necessary excisions, and did 

 not appear to reflect that time makes almost everything 

 harmless. The destruction of Jessie's journals is possibly 

 a greater loss. Her life at Geneva and in Italy brought her 

 in contact with many of whom the world would like to know 

 more intimate details. 



