her.  I think all the brothers Hill wrote books, and Rosamond and Florence Davenport Hill had just published “Our Exemplars.”  My friendship with Miss Clark led to much work together, and the introduction was a great widening of interests for me.  There were four sons and three daughters—­Miss Clark and Howard were the most literary, but all had great ability and intelligence.  They were Unitarians, and W. J. Wren, my brother-in-law, was also a Unitarian, and had been one of the 12 Adelaide citizens who invited out a minister and guaranteed his salary.  I was led to hear what the Rev. J. Crawford Woods had to say for that faith, and told my old minister (Rev. Robert Haining) that for three months I would hear him in the morning and Mr. Woods in the evening, and read nothing but the Bible as my guide; and by that time I would decide.  I had been induced to go to the Sacrament at 17, with much heart searching, but when I was 25 I said I could not continue a communicant, as I was not a converted Christian.  This step greatly surprised both Mr. and Mrs. Haining, as I did not propose to leave the church.  The result of my three months’ enquiry was that I became a convinced Unitarian, and the cloud was lifted from the universe.  I think I have been a most cheerful person ever since.  My mother was not in any way distressed, though she never separated from the church of her fathers.  My brother was as completely converted as I was, and he was happy in finding a wife like minded.  My sister, Mrs. Wren, also was satisfied with the new faith; so that she and her husband saw eye to eye.  It was a very live congregation in those early days.  We liked our pastor, and we admired his wife, and there were a number of interesting and clever people who went to the Wakefield Street Church.

It was rather remarkable that my sister’s husband and my brother’s wife arrived on the same day in two different ships—­one in the Anglier from England, and the other in the Three Bells from Glasgow—­in 1851; but I did not make the acquaintance of either till 1854 and 1855.  Jessie Cumming and Mary Spence shook hands and formed a friendship over Carlyle’s “Sartor Resartus.”  My brother-in-law (W.  J. Wren) had fine literary tastes, especially for poetry.  The first gift to his wife after marriage was Elizabeth Browning’s poems in two volumes and Robert Browning’s “Plays and Dramatic Lyrics” in two volumes, and Mary and I delighted in them all.  In those days I considered my sister Mary and my sister-in-law the most brilliant conversationalists I knew.  My elder sister, Mrs. Murray, also talked very well—­so much so that her husband’s friends and visitors fancied she must write a lot of his articles; but none of the three ladies went beyond writing good letters.  I think all of them were keener of sight than I was—­more observant of features, dress, and manners; but I took in more by the ear.  As Sir Walter Scott says, “Speak that I may know thee.”  To my mind, dialogue is more important