xxii LIFE OF WILSON. 



got nothing but wheat and butter for this hugginrj and slashing ! Never 

 niiud, my dear namesake, put up awhile with the rough fiire aud rough cloth- 

 ing of the country. Let us only get the place in good order, and you shall be 

 no loser by it. Next summer I will assuredly come up along with your father 

 and George, if he comes as I expect he will, and everything shall flourish. 



" My dear friend and nephew, I wish you could find a leisure hour in the 

 evening to give the children, particularly Mary, some instruction in reading, 

 and Alexander in writing and accounts. Don't be discouraged though they 

 make but slow progress in both, but persevere a little every evening. 1 think 

 you can hardly employ au hour at night to better purpose. Aud make James 

 read every convenient opportunity. If I live to come up beside you, I shall 

 take that burden off your shoulders. Be the constant friend and counsellor 

 of your little colony, to assist them in their difficulties, encourage them in their 

 despondencies, to make them as happy as circuinstances will enable you. A 

 mother, brothers and sisters, in a foreign country, looking up to you as their 

 best friend and supporter, places you in a dignified point of view. The future 

 remembrance of your kind duty to them now, will, in the hour of your own 

 distress, be as a healing angel of peace to your mind. Do everything possible 

 to make your house comfortable — fortify the garrison in every point — stop 

 every crevice that may let in that chilling devil, the roaring blustering north- 

 west — heap up fires big enough for an Indian war-feast — keep the flour-barrel 

 full — bake loaves like Hamles Head* — make the loom thunder, and the pot 

 boil; and your snug little cabin re-echo nothing but sounds of domestic feli- 

 city. I will write you the moment I hear of George. I shall do everything 

 I have said to you, and never lose sight of the eighteenth of March ; for 

 which purpose I shall keep night-school this winter, and retain every farthing 

 but what necessity requires — depend upon nie. These are the outlines of mt/ 

 plan. If health stand it, all will be well ; if not, we cannot help it. Rumi- 

 nate on all this, and consult together. If you still think of coming down I 

 hope you would not hesitate for a moment to make my neighborhood your 

 home. If you come I shall be happy to have you once more beside me. If 

 you resolve to stay on the firm, and put things in order as far as possible, I 

 will think you have done what you thought best. But I forget that my paper 

 is done. 



" Robb, Orr, &c , have escaped as yet from the pestilence ; but Robb's three 

 children have all had the ague. Rabby Rowan has gone to Davie's Locker at 

 last : he died in the West Indies. My brother David talks of coming to 

 America, and my father, poor old man, would be happy to be with you, rough 

 aud uncomfortable as your situation at present is. As soon as I finish this I 

 shall write to your mother and Alexander. There is a letter for John M., 

 which he is requested to answer by his father-iu-law. I hope John will set a 

 firm resolute heart to the undertaking, aud plant a posterity in that rich west- 

 ern country, to perpetuate his name for ever. Thousands here would rejoice 

 to be in his situation. How happy may you live thus united together in a 



*Tlie name of a rock near Paisley. 



