an old maid of 45, who, however, two years afterwards was the mother of a fine big daughter, so that Aunt Helen Park’s scheme for getting the money for her sister’s children failed.  In spite of my father’s strong wish to be a farmer, and not a writer or attorney, there was no capital to start a farm upon, so he was indentured to Mr. Erskine, and after some years began business in Melrose for himself, and married Lelen Brodie.  His elder brother John went as a surgeon in the Royal Navy—­before he was twenty-one.  The demand for surgeons was great during the war time.  He was made a Freemason before the set age, because in case of capture friends from the fraternity might be of great use.  He did not like his original profession, especially when after the peace he must be a country practitioner like his father, at every one’s beck and call, so he was articled to his brother, and lived in the house till he married and settled at Earlston, five miles off.  Uncle John Spence was a scholarly man, shy but kindly, who gave to us children most of the books we possessed.  They were not in such abundance as children read nowadays, but they were read and re-read.

In these early readings the Calvinistic teaching of the church and the shorter catechism was supported and exemplified.  The only secular books to counteract them were the “Evenings at Home” and Miss Edgeworth’s “Tales for Young and Old!” The only cloud on my young life was the gloomy religion, which made me doubt of my own salvation and despair of the salvation of any but a very small proportion of the people in the world.  Thus the character of God appeared unlovely, and it was wicked not to love God; and this was my condemnation.  I had learned the shorter catechism with the proofs from Scripture, and I understood the meaning of the dogmatic theology.  Watts’s hymns were much more easy to learn, but the doctrine was the same.  There was no getting away from the feeling that the world was under a curse ever since that unlucky appleeating in the garden of Eden.  Why, oh! why had not the sentence of death been carried out at once, and a new start made with more prudent people?  The school in which as a day scholar I passed nine years of my life was more literary than many which were more pretentious.  Needlework was of supreme importance, certainly, but during the hour and a half every day, Saturday’s half-holiday not excepted, which was given to it by the whole school at once (odd half-hours were also put in), the best readers took turns about to read. some book selected by Miss Phin.  We were thus trained to pay attention.  History, biography, adventures, descriptions, and story books were read.  Any questions or criticisms about our sewing, knitting, netting, &c., were carried on in a low voice, and we learned to work well and quickly, and good reading aloud was cultivated.  First one brother and then another had gone to Edinburgh for higher education than could be had at Melrose Parish School, and I wanted