y are with an entailed property; and yet
when I look around me, and see the way that sons go on, the dissipation
and extravagance, and the heartbreak they are to their parents, I think
a son anything but a blessing. No word of anything of that kind to the
poor Richardsons; with all their riches, they are without anyone to come
after them. The Prowleys are up in the air at having got what they call
"a fine appointment" for their fourth son, but for my part I'm really
sick of hearing of boys going to India, for after all what do they do
there? I never hear of their sending home anything but black children,
and when they come home themselves, what do they bring but yellow faces,
worn-out constitutions, and livers like cocked-hats, crawling about from
one watering-place to another, till they are picked up by some
light-hearted, fortune-hunting miss, who does not care twopence for
them.'"

A beautiful and strong feature in Miss Ferrier's character was her
intense devotion to her father, and when he died the loss to her was
irreparable. She also was much attached to a very handsome brother,
James; he was colonel of the 94th regiment, or Scots Brigade, and died
in India in 1804, at the early age of twenty-seven. He had been at the
siege of Seringapatam in 1799, and was much distinguished by the notice
of Napoleon at Paris in February 1803, whence he writes to his sister
Susan:--

"I think I wrote you I had been introduced to the Chief Consul. I was on
Sunday last presented to his lady, whom I do not at all admire. The
great man spoke to me then again, which is a very unusual thing, and I
am told by the French I must be in his good graces; however, I myself
rather think it was my good fortune only: at all events it has given me
much pleasure, for it would have only been doing the thing half if he
had not spoken to me. I do not think any of the pictures like him much,
although most of them have some resemblance; they give him a frown in
general, which he certainly has not--so far from it, that when he speaks
he has one of the finest expressions possible."

Here, unfortunately, this interesting description comes abruptly to an
end, the rest of the letter being lost. On account of failing health and
increased bodily languor, Miss Ferrier latterly lived a very retired
life, seeing few but very intimate friends, and, as she said, "We are
more recluse than ever, as our little circle is yearly contracting, and
my eyes are more and