ject of her life, living in and for him.

His uncle William, whom he succeeded at Haddington, was never
married, and was exceedingly attached to my father. He was a
singular man; in his early days very gay and handsome, and
living in some matters, I know not what, so incorrectly, that
on offering himself for holy orders, the then Bishop of
Durham wrote to him mentioning something he had heard, and
telling him if it was true he was not fitly prepared for
taking orders. My uncle acknowledged the accusation as far as
it was true, and thanked the Bishop for his letter, and
abstained from coming forward at that time, but took the
admonition so to heart that it led to an entire conversion of
heart and life. He then came forward in a very different
state to receive ordination, and was through his whole life a
most zealous and devoted man, a friend of Milner and
Wilberforce. An old lady, Mrs. Logan of Seafield, told me
that once when Mrs. Siddons was acting, uncle William walked
twenty miles to see her and persuade her not to go, and,
whether by arguments or eloquence, he succeeded. Though kind
and gentle he was a strong Calvinist, and by his zeal and
energy in preaching such doctrines, injured himself in a
worldly point of view. He was always poor, and often gave
away all the little he had, and lived from hand to mouth. He
was very much admired and beloved by ladies, which perhaps
prevented his marrying. He was very happy and useful among
the sailors, and died at his sister's, Mrs. Jackson, at
Woolwich. She, as Elizabeth Terrot, had been a beauty, and
was to the last a fine, happy, spirited, contented and joking
old lady, very fond of my father, to whom she left all she
had. She was bright, unselfish and amusing, even on her
deathbed incapable of despondency or gloom.

Excuse my troubling you with these details; and believe me to
be truly grateful for your graceful tribute to our dear
father. I send a few lines for your private eye, written by
my sister Mary, expressing what she felt on last seeing him,
and it expresses, too, exactly what I felt that last Good
Friday as he sat in that chair in which he had so long
suffered. I never saw him there again, With deep respect,
gratefully yours, S.A. TERROT.

LINES by MISS MARY TERROT, now MR