On the civil struggles of that period, and on the dissensions within the kirk itself, between the stricter and the laxer Covenanters, which followed the lamented execution of King Charles, the coronation of his son in Scotland, his defeat and flight, and the establishment of Cromwell in power over Scotland as over England, I will not dwell. With the welcome period of civil peace between 1652 and 1660 begin my recollections.
Between these peaceful years my brothers Jamie and Richie married. Jamie was a stonemason. He bought a lot in the village and built a comfortable house for himself, so that he took his bonnie bride to a home of her own. Richie followed his father's profession. He and his wife lived seven miles away from us. Mary was betrothed to our own parish minister, Alexander Ramsay by name; and in June, 1659, a year before Charles II. was restored to his father's throne, they two were married.
Steenie and I were then left to each other, and well were we satisfied with each other's companionship. At the time of my sister's marriage I was a strong, well-grown lass of thirteen, and Steenie was nearly two years older. Oh, when I think of those early years, and remember all that Steenie and others were to me, I feel that my heart has long lain low with them in the darkness of the grave. No days now are like those days; no sunshine so bright, no air so soft and balmy. Even the flowers seem changed. I think of those dear friends as I sit alone in the gloaming, and my tears often fall fast, although I feel sure that theirs are dried for ever. But human nature is weak, you know, and God knows it too; this is my comfort, for he will not think that my tears are rebellious.
I cannot pass over that pleasant period of our lives without again speaking in detail of our family as it then was. My father was slightly bent, though more with a scholar's stoop than under the weight of years. His locks were silvered, but his eye was bright and his judgment sound. He still taught the lads and lassies of the village, and he ruled them well.
My mother showed age less than my father. I remember well how all our family looked when Jamie's firstborn was first taken to the kirk. My mother appeared saintly in her peacefulness. Margaret, the bairn's mother, was much affected with the solemnity of the occasion—bringing her young bairn for the first time up to the house of God. Her heart was full of prayer that grace might be given her to bring him at last to the home of the blest above. Margaret and my mother were much alike, and were drawn together sympathetically.
Richie and Ellen, his bride, were also there. She wore a white dress and a knot of wild roses at her throat. She looked very sweet and innocent.
Sister Mary had dressed with unusual care. She wore blue; it suited her well. She could see that in the wee mirror that hung in our own tidy room. Besides, had not Alexander Ramsay told her so? and was not that enough for Mary? Dear Mary! Hers was a winsome smile, and her step was like the fall of the snowflake, as my mother well said. I can see her now with my mental vision, as by the side of Alexander she walked that day from the kirk to Margaret's door. Poor gentle one! she was a sweet blossom tenderly nourished, only to be rudely crushed in the freshness of her bloom.
In summer we sometimes spent the time between the morning and afternoon service in the kirkyard. Many a time have Steenie and I strayed side by side to its farthest limits deciphering the quaint epitaphs on the rough, weather-beaten stones, only recalled from our ramble by a sight of the blue bonnet of the tall bell-ringer as he passed to his duty. Ay, ay, those Sabbaths, how they throng in my memory! Peacefully they began, peacefully they ended, the busy weeks intervening—busy, but not wearisome, for willing hands make labor light.
Often when our work was done Steenie and I rambled far away at the sunset hour, for we loved to watch the setting from the brae on the farther side of the great hill that rises to the west of us. Sometimes, in returning, we went to David McDougal's. His was a good and happy family, and none better knew their Bibles. But after our sister was married we oftener turned our steps towards the manse, the abode of peace, love, and contentment. I often think Eden is most nearly restored to us in the homes of well-ordered families, where industry and unity of purpose prevail, where God is feared, and mankind regarded as a brotherhood.
I would fain linger amid these pleasant scenes, but I cannot. The peaceful years sped on far too fast for what was to follow.