religious
feeling existed at all, it was of the Mohammedan rather than
anything else; but his religion was not very apparent, though he was
fundamentally an honest and conscientious man, and I think he had but
one enemy--himself. He was a very great man; very like a magnificent
machine one part of which had gone wrong--and that was his hot temper."

Lady Burton's book was finished at Mortlake on 24th March 1893, and
appeared in the autumn of that year. She then commenced the issue of the
Memorial Edition of her husband's works. The Pilgrimage to Al Medinah
and Meccah (2 vols.), The Mission to Gelele (2 vols.), and Vikram and
the Vampire appeared in 1893, First Footsteps in East Africa in 1894.
The venture, however, proved a failure, so no more volumes were issued.
She published her husband's Pentameron in 1893, and the Catullus in
1894.

Writing 11th July 1893 to Mrs. E. J. Burton just before a visit to that
lady, Lady Burton says--and it must be borne in mind that her complaint
often made her feel very ill--"Send me a line to tell me what is the
nearest Roman Catholic Church to you, as I must drive there first to
make all arrangements for Sunday morning to get an early confession,
communion and mass (after which I am at liberty for the rest of the day)
because, as you know, I have to fast from midnight till I come back, and
I feel bad for want of a cup of tea. ...The Life is out to-day."

The reception accorded to her work by the Press, who, out of regard to
Sir Richard's memory, spoke of it with the utmost kindness, gave Lady
Burton many happy hours. "It is a great pleasure to me," she says, "to
know how kind people are about my book, and how beautifully they speak
of darling Richard." [685]

Most of Lady Burton's remaining letters are full of gratitude to God,
tender and Christian sentiment, faulty English and bad spelling. [686]
"I did see The Times," she says, "and was awfully glad of it. Kinder
still is The Sunday Sun, the 1st, the 8th and the 15th of October, five
columns each, which say that I have completely lifted any cloud away
from his memory, and that his future fame will shine like a beacon in
all ages. Thank God!" St. George Burton was wicked enough to twit her
for her spelling, and to say that he found out as many as seventeen
words incorrectly spelt in one letter. But she deftly excused herself by
saying that she used archaic forms. "Never mind St. George," she writes
good-humouredly, to Mrs. E. G.