My father was the eldest son of the minister of Jedburgh, and until his marriage with my mother, had lived almost entirely abroad and in our colonies. It was always a subject of regret to my mother that my father never could be induced to publish an account of his important travels in South Africa, for which he had ample materials in the notes he brought home, many of which we still possess. Without being very deeply learned on any one special subject, he was generally well-informed, and very intelligent. He was an excellent classical scholar, and could repeat long passages from Horace and other authors. He had a lively interest in all branches of natural history, was a good botanist and mineralogist, and could take note of all the strange animals, plants, or minerals he saw in his adventurous journies in the countries, now colonized, but then the hunting-grounds of Caffres and other uncivilized tribes. He was the first white man who penetrated so far into the country, and it was not without great risk. Indeed, on one occasion he was sentenced to death by a Caffre chief, and only saved by the interposition of the chief's mother. My father's style in writing English was singularly pure and correct, and he was very fastidious on this topic--a severe critic, whether in correcting the children's lessons or in reading over the last proof sheets of my mother's works previous to their publication. These qualities would have fitted him very well to write the history of his travels, but he disliked the trouble of it, and, never having the slightest ambition on his own account, he let the time for publication slip by. Others travelled over the country he first explored, and the novelty was at an end. He was far happier in helping my mother in various ways, searching the libraries for the books she required, indefatigably copying and recopying her manuscripts, to save her time. No trouble seemed too great which he bestowed upon her; it was a labour of love. My father was most kindhearted, and I have often heard my mother say how many persons he had assisted in life, and what generous actions he had done, many of them requited with ingratitude, and with betrayal of confidence. From the way my mother speaks of their life, it can be seen how happy was their marriage and how much sympathy there was between them. Speaking of his son's marriage with my mother, the Rev. Dr. Somerville says, in his "Life and Times," page 390: "To myself this connection was on every account peculiarly gratifying. Miss Fairfax had been born and nursed in my house; her father being at that time abroad on public service. She afterwards often resided in my family, was occasionally my scholar, and was looked upon by me and my wife as if she had been one of our own children. I can truly