h laborious care, sheets of
childish gossip and pedantic applications. Here, for instance, under
date of May 26th, 1816, is part of a mythological account of London,
with a moral for the three gentlemen, "Messieurs Alan, Robert, and James
Stevenson," to whom the document is addressed:

"There are many prisons here like Bridewell, for, like other large
towns, there are many bad men here as well as many good men. The
natives of London are in general not so tall and strong as the people
of Edinburgh, because they have not so much pure air, and instead of
taking porridge they eat cakes made with sugar and 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
else. But on Saturday, when I went to inquire after your health, how
was I startled to hear that dear James was gone! Ah, what is this? My