one watering-place to another, till they are picked up by some light-hearted, fortune-hunting miss, who does not care twopence for them.’”

A beautiful and strong feature in Miss Ferrier’s character was her intense devotion to her father, and when he died the loss to her was irreparable.  She also was much attached to a very handsome brother, James; he was colonel of the 94th regiment, or Scots Brigade, and died in India in 1804, at the early age of twenty-seven.  He had been at the siege of Seringapatam in 1799, and was much distinguished by the notice of Napoleon at Paris in February 1803, whence he writes to his sister Susan:—­

“I think I wrote you I had been introduced to the Chief Consul.  I was on Sunday last presented to his lady, whom I do not at all admire.  The great man spoke to me then again, which is a very unusual thing, and I am told by the French I must be in his good graces; however, I myself rather think it was my good fortune only:  at all events it has given me much pleasure, for it would have only been doing the thing half if he had not spoken to me.  I do not think any of the pictures like him much, although most of them have some resemblance; they give him a frown in general, which he certainly has not—­so far from it, that when he speaks he has one of the finest expressions possible.”

Here, unfortunately, this interesting description comes abruptly to an end, the rest of the letter being lost.  On account of failing health and increased bodily languor, Miss Ferrier latterly lived a very retired life, seeing few but very intimate friends, and, as she said, “We are more recluse than ever, as our little circle is yearly contracting, and my eyes are more and more averse to light than ever.”

Again she writes:—­

“I can say nothing good of myself, my cough is very severe, and will probably continue so, at least as long as this weather lasts; but I have many comforts, for which I am thankful; amongst those I must reckon silence and darkness, which are my best companions at present.”

For years she had suffered from her eyes, being nearly quite blind of one. [1] In 1830 she went to London to consult an oculist, but unfortunately derived little benefit.  While there, she visited Isleworth, in order to see a villa belonging to Lord Cassillis, and which subsequently figured in Destiny as “Woodlands,” Lady Waldegrave’s rural retreat near London.  A valued friend [2] who saw much of her remarked:—­

[1] Lady Morgan, a fellow-sufferer from her eyes, was most anxious she should consult Mr. Alexander, the eminent oculist, as he entirely cured her after four years’ expectation of total blindness.

[2] Lady Richardson.

“The wonderful vivacity she maintained in the midst of darkness and pain for so many years, the humour, wit, and honesty of her character, as well as the Christian submission with which she bore her great privation and general discomfort when not suffering acute pain, made everyone who knew her desirous to alleviate the tediousness of her days, and I used to read a great deal to her at one time, and I never left her darkened chamber without feeling that I had gained something better than the book we might be reading, from her quick perception of its faults and its beauties, and her unmerciful remarks on all that was mean or unworthy in conduct or expression.”