“To assist them in amusing him in the hours which he spent out of his study, and especially that he might make these hours more frequent, his daughter had invited his friend the authoress of Marriage to come out to Abbotsford, and her coming was serviceable.  For she knew and loved him well, and she had seen enough of affliction akin to his to be well skilled in dealing with it.  She could not be an hour in his company without observing what filled his children with more sorrow than all the rest of the case.  He would begin a story as gaily as ever, and go on, in spite of the hesitation in his speech, to tell it with highly picturesque effect—­but before he reached the point, it would seem as if some internal spring had given way.  He paused and gazed round him with the blank anxiety of look that a blind man has when he has dropped his staff.  Unthinking friends sometimes gave him the catch-word abruptly.  I noticed the delicacy of Miss Ferrier on such occasions.  Her sight was bad, and she took care not to use her glasses when he was speaking, and she affected also to be troubled with deafness, and would say, ’Well, I am getting as dull as a post, I have not heard a word since you said so and so,’ being sure to mention a circumstance behind that at which he had really halted.  He then took up the thread with his habitual smile of courtesy, as if forgetting his case entirely in the consideration of the lady’s infirmity.”

A very interesting account of her recollections of visits to Ashestiel and Abbotsford appeared in the February (1874) number of this magazine:  it is short, but gives a sad and pathetic picture of the great man and his little grandson as they sat side by side at table.

The following letter on Destiny is from Mrs. Fletcher, [1] a distinguished citizen of Edinburgh at the commencement of this century, and a leader of the Whig society there.  For that reason it is worthy of insertion here.  Her son married Miss Clavering, as before mentioned:—­

[1] Her Memoir, by her daughter, Lady Richardson, was published not long since.

Mrs. Fletcher to Miss Ferrier.

“TADCASTER, April 16, 1831.

“My DEAR MISS FERRIER—­I should not have been so long in thanking you for your kind present, had I not wished to subject Destiny to a severer test than that chosen by the French dramatist. His old woman probably partook of the vivacity of her nation, but my old aunt, as Mary will tell you, is sick and often very sorrowful, and yet Destiny has made her laugh heartily, and cheated her of many wearisome hours of lamentation.  My grandson, Archibald Taylor, too, forsook football and cricket for your fascinating book, and told me ’he could sit up all night to see what had become of Ronald.’  Mr. Ribley and ’Kitty, my dear,’ hit his comic fancy particularly.  My two most bookish neighbours, one an Oxford divine, and the other a Cambridge student, declare that, Glenroy and M’Dow