Mrs. Taylor had the honour of being presented to King William and Queen Adelaide, whose amiable disposition and habitual beneficence made her a great favourite with the British nation. She had also the offer of a situation as reader to our present queen. But as the salary was small, and the attendance on her majesty was likely to interfere with her family and scientific arrangements, it was declined. In this decision, Edward Maltby, D.D., then Bishop of Durham concurred, and at the first meeting of the British Association held in Newcastle-on-Tyne, in 1838, made honourable mention of her. At the world’s great assembly in 1851, she exhibited an ingeniously contrived little instrument—a quadrant and sextant—which the queen graciously accepted for the Prince of Wales. Mrs. Taylor received a medal from the King of the Netherlands, also in 1860 a very complimentary letter from the present pope, Pius IX., with a medal. On the accession of Queen Victoria, £1200 was intrusted to her Majesty for the payment of pensions to persons who have just claims on the royal beneficence, or who, by their personal services to the crown, by the performance of duties to the public, or by their useful discoveries in science, and attainments in literature and the arts, have merited the gracious consideration of their sovereign and the gratitude of their country. In consequence of her valuable services in the fields of science, Mrs. Taylor’s name was added to the civil list, and in 1862, she disposed of her business at 104, Minories, and retired to Camberwell Grove, on a pension of £50 per annum. Those who desolate nations, stay the progress of arts, manufactures, knowledge, civilization, benevolence, and religion; and sweep myriads of their fellow-creatures, unprepared, into eternity, we load with titles and treasures; and those who by their self-denying devotedness to the investigation of truth, have conferred benefits upon mankind, and thus deserved imperishable monuments, we reward with a pension of £50! Though life with Mrs. Taylor was real and earnest, it was still in the review like a dream, and she was brought somewhat suddenly to the point where things seen lose all their importance, and things unseen become the only realities. She spent the evening of life—an evening worthy of the day, and beaming with the mild radiance that gave promise of a glorious morning of immortality—in visiting her relatives and friends. On the 15th of January, 1870, she went to Bishop-Aukland, a small town in the middle of her native county of Durham, pleasantly situated on an eminence, nearly 140 feet above the level of the plain; to spend a few days with her brother-in-law, the Rev. T. Chester, at the vicarage of St. Helen’s. The following week she was seized with bronchitis, and gradually sank until she died on Wednesday morning, January the 26th, in the sixty-sixth year of her age.