echanical arts, and when in good humor, could
regale us with many a tale of bold adventure and narrow escapes. When
in bad humor, however, he gave us a practical taste of what was then
man-of-war's discipline, and kicked and cuffed without mercy. I have
often thought how he might have distinguished himself, had he
continued in the navy until the present times, so glorious for
nautical exploit. But the Peace of Paris [Versailles, 1783] cut off
all hopes of promotion for those who had not great interest; and some
disgust which his proud spirit had taken at harsh usage from a
superior officer, combined to throw poor Robert into the East India
Company's service, for which his habits were ill adapted. He made two
voyages to the East, and died a victim to the climate in....

John Scott, my second brother, is about three years older than me. He
addicted himself to the military service, and is now brevet-major in
the 73rd regiment.[21]

[Footnote 21: He was this year made major of the second
battalion, by the kind intercession of Mr. Canning at the War
Office--1809. He retired from the army, and kept house with
my mother. His health was totally broken, and he died, yet a
young man, on 8th May, 1816.--(1826.)]

I had an only sister, Anne Scott, who seemed to be from her cradle the
butt for mischance to shoot arrows at. Her childhood was marked by
perilous escapes from the most extraordinary accidents. Among others,
I remember an iron-railed door leading into the area in the centre of
George's Square being closed by the wind, while her fingers were
betwixt the hasp and staple. Her hand was thus locked in, and must
have been smashed to pieces, had not the bones of her fingers been
remarkably slight and thin. As it was, the hand was cruelly mangled.
On another occasion she was nearly drowned in a pond, or old quarry
hole, in what was then called Brown's Park, on the south side of the
square. But the most unfortunate accident, and which, though it
happened while she {p.011} was only six years old, proved the remote
cause of her death, was her cap accidentally taking fire. The child
was alone in the room, and before assistance could be obtained, her
head was dreadfully scorched. After a lingering and dangerous illness,
she recovered--but never to enjoy perfect health. The slightest cold
occasioned swellings in her face, and other indications of a delicate
constitution. At length, in [18