xxii 
LIFE OF WILSON. 
get nothing but wlieat and butter for this liagging and slasliing ! Never 
mind, my dear namesake, put up awhile with the rough fare and 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 conie up along with your father 
and Greorge, if he comes as I expect ho 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 an hour at night to better purpose. And 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 difiiculties, encourage them in their 
despondencies, to make them as happy as circumstances 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 Ilamles 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 me. These are the outlines of my 
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 farm, 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 Daoie'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 
and 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-in-law. I hope John will set a 
firm resolute heart to the undertaking, and 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 
*The name of a rock near Paisley. 
