[1] Mrs. Ferrier (nee Coutts) was the daughter of a farmer at Gourdon, near Montrose.  She was very amiable, and possessed of great personal beauty, as is attested by her portrait by Sir George Chalmers, Bart., in a fancy dress, and painted 1765.  At the time of her marriage (1767) she resided at the Abbey of Holyrood Palace with an aunt, the Honourable Mrs. Maitland, widow of a younger son of Lord Lauderdale’s, who had been left in poor circumstances, and had charge of the apartments there belonging to the Argyll family.  After their marriage Mr. and Mrs. Ferrier occupied a flat in Lady Stair’s Close (Old Town of Edinburgh), and which had just been vacated by Sir James Pulteney and his wife Lady Bath.  Ten children were the fruit of this union (six sons and four daughters), viz.—­

1.  John, W.S., of 12 York Place, Edinburgh, d. 1851; m.  Miss Wilson, sister of Professor Wilson, and father of the late Professor Ferrier of St. Andrews, N. B.

2.  Archibald Campbell, W.S., d. 1814; m.  Miss Garden.

3.  Lorn, d. 1801, at Demerara.

4.  James, d. in India, 1804. }
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5.  William Hamilton, d. 1804, in India. } Both Officers

6.  Walter, W.S., d. 1856; m.  Miss Gordon.

7.  Jane (Mrs. Graham), d. 1846.

8.  Janet (Mrs. Connell), d. 1848.

9.  Helen (Mrs_._ Kinloch), d. 1866, at Torquay, aged 90.

10.  Susan Edmonstone.

“Your proposals flatter and delight me, but how in the name of Postage are we to transport our brains to and fro?  I suppose we’d be pawning our flannel petticoats to bring about our heroine’s marriage, and lying on straw to give her Christian burial.  Part of your plot I like much, some not quite so well—­for example, it wants a moral—­your principal characters are good and interesting, and they are tormented and persecuted and punished from no fault, of their own_,_ and for no possible purpose.  Now I don’t think, like all penny-book manufacturers, that ’tis absolutely necessary that the good boys and girls should be rewarded and the naughty ones punished.  Yet I think, where there is much tribulation, ’tis fitter it should be the consequence rather than the cause of misconduct or frailty.  You’ll say that rule is absurd, inasmuch as it is not observed in human life:  that I allow, but we know the inflictions of Providence are for wise purposes, therefore our reason willingly submits to them.  But as the only good purpose of a book is to inculcate morality and convey some lesson of instruction as well as delight, I do not see that what is called a good moral can be dispensed with in a work of fiction.  Another fault is your making your hero attempt suicide, which is greatly too shocking, and destroys all the interest his misfortunes would otherwise excite—­that, however, could be easily altered, and in other respects I think your