"MY DEAR WILLIAM,--You will not have seen this until I am in the world of spirits, and I hope the communion of saints in heaven, through Jesus our Lord. You have ever believed that I am your parent; but I am not. I am only your aunt--your father being a much younger brother, who was the delight of his mother and myself; for, from his earliest dawning of reason, his mind was of a pious turn, and we loved him as much as he was the aversion of his father. His elder brother had engrossed all his parent's love; for he was more like himself, and cared not for anything that savoured of the fear of God. My father had been a cavalier, and suffered a share of his sovereign's misfortunes, and hated the Covenanters with a perfect hatred; but he interfered not with his pious wife in her mode of worship, until your father showed an aversion, when yet a boy, to join in the profanity and revelry which he and his elder son delighted in. It was after this that he began to storm and threaten his wife, for instilling her Puritanical notions, as he called them, into his children. We were immediately taken from her. I was sent to an aunt of his own opinion; and Andrew, your father, to the university in Paris. Your father I never heard of for some years. My mother I never saw again until she was upon her death-bed, when she gave me the jewels you will find in the box with this. Make a good use of them, and may they prove a blessing, in placing you above want, if I am taken away before you are claimed by your father, which he will do if he lives, and is allowed to return to Scotland; if not, you will be enabled to trace him out by their means. But I must proceed:--I was still residing with my father's aunt when your father returned to Scotland, bringing with him, from France, a Scottish lady of family, whom he had married there. Being very uncomfortably situated, I went to reside with him. The troubles about religion, which distracted the country, had been laying it waste for some time. Your father took a leading part for the Covenant, and joined the insurgents. The fatal battle of Bothwell Bridge was fought. Your father was dangerously wounded; but escaped. He was concealed by a faithful servant, and brought home, where we concealed him from the search that was made, until his recovery. Your mother, who was of a delicate constitution, never recovered the shock. She sickened, and died, before her husband was convalescent. Your father was obliged to fly his country in disguise; his property was confiscated, and a price set upon his head; for, though he had been seen to fall, his body had not been found. I was driven from his house, and retired to this wild as a place of security, of which I informed your father. He was, when I wrote