contained in the small bottle produced, as a remedy or prevention, which she had told him had been prescribed for her by her medical attendant in London (Dr. Thomson); that on seeing her use it deponent had threatened to throw it away, and had at one time told her that he had actually done so, when she appeared so much alarmed, and said it was so necessary for the preservation of her life, that deponent was prevented from afterwards taking it away; that he had been called by Bailey that morning, when he found Mrs. Maclean on the floor near the door, quite senseless; that he immediately sent for the doctor, and assisted to carry her to the bed; but the efforts of the doctor to restore life were in vain, and that deponent cannot assign any cause for her death; that the letter in the following words now produced to this deponent are stated to have been found in Mrs. Maclean's desk this morning, is in her own hand-writing, and that an unkind word had never passed between Mrs. Maclean and deponent.
(LETTER.)
"My dearest Maria,
"I cannot but write you a brief account, how I enact the part of a feminine Robinson Crusoe. I must say, in itself, the place is infinitely superior to all I ever even dreamed of. The castle is a fine building—the rooms excellent I do not suffer from heat; insects there are few, or none; and I am in excellent health. The solitude, except an occasional dinner, is absolute; from seven in the morning till seven, when we dine, I never see Mr. Maclean, and rarely any one else. We were welcomed by a series of dinners, which I am glad are over—for it is very awkward to be the only lady—still the great kindness with which I have been treated, and the very pleasant manners of many of the gentlemen, made me feel it as little as possible. Last week we had a visit from Captain Castle, of the Pylades. His story is very melancholy. He married, six months before he left England, to one of the beautiful Miss Hills, Sir John Hill's daughter, and she died just as he received orders to return home. We also had a visit from Colonel Bosch, the Dutch governor, a most gentlemanly-like man. But fancy how awkward the next morning—I cannot induce Mr. Maclean to rise, and I have to make breakfast, and do the honours of adieu to him and his officers—white plumes, mustachios, and all. I think I never felt more embarrassed. I have not yet felt the want of society in the least. I do not wish to form new friends, and never does a day pass without thinking most affectionately of my old ones. On three sides we are surrounded by the sea. I like the perpetual dash on the rocks—one wave comes up after anothor, and is for ever dashed in pieces, like human hopes that only swell to be disappointed. We advance—up springs
