plums. Here you have thousands of carts to draw timber, thousands
of coaches to take you to all parts of the town, and thousands of
boats to sail on the river Thames. But you must have money to pay,
otherwise you can get nothing. Now the way to get money is, become
clever men and men of education, by being good scholars.'

From the same absence, he writes to his wife on a Sunday:

'It is now about eight o'clock with me, and I imagine you to be
busy with the young folks, hearing the questions [Anglice,
catechism], and indulging the boys with a chapter from the large
Bible, with their interrogations and your answers in the soundest
doctrine. I hope James is getting his verse as usual, and that
Mary is not forgetting her little hymn. While Jeannie will be
reading Wotherspoon, or some other suitable and instructive book, I
presume our friend, Aunt Mary, will have just arrived with the news
of A THRONG KIRK [a crowded church] and a great sermon. You may
mention, with my compliments to my mother, that I was at St. Paul's
to-day, and attended a very excellent service with Mr. James
Lawrie. The text was "Examine and see that ye be in the faith."'

A twinkle of humour lights up this evocation of the distant scene--
the humour of happy men and happy homes. Yet it is penned upon the
threshold of fresh sorrow. James and Mary--he of the verse and she
of the hymn--did not much more than survive to welcome their
returning father. On the 25th, one of the godly women writes to
Janet:

'My dearest beloved madam, when I last parted from you, you was so
affected with your affliction [you? or I?] could think of nothing