"Faither, d'ye no mind Tam?—Tam Wilson?" And the next moment Tom—her Tom—was at her side, and fondling her to his heart.
That was a happy night at Fairyknowe. Tom was in all his glory; the old man indulged in an extra glass of toddy while listening to his yarns; and Ellen looked the joy she felt—there was no shade on her features now. Next Sunday, which was only two days afterwards, the gossips of the parish were quite astonished when they heard the names of Tom Wilson and Ellen Thompson cried three times in the kirk.
"Whatna Tam Wilson can that be, I wonder?" Nobody knew. But next Sabbath-day all their "wonderings" were satisfactorily silenced, by witnessing the gay kirking party, with Tom and Ellen at their head—the handsomest couple, so they all said, they had seen this "mony a lang day." I was present at the wedding, which took place on the Friday preceding, and a happy scene it was. Tom has left ploughing the sea, to follow the plough on shore, and he and Ellen are settled in a small and comfortable farm with every prospect of happiness before them.
PERSEVERANCE;
OR, THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF RODERIC GRAY.
Courteous reader, thou must be aware that there is no virtue which conferreth greater benefits upon its possessor than the virtue of perseverance. It can scale precipices, overtop mountains, encompass seas. Perseverance is a mighty conqueror; it fighteth against odds, and neither turneth its back nor is dismayed. Its progress may be slow, but in the end it is sure. As a snail ascendeth a perpendicular wall, it may fall or be driven back to the ground, but it will renew the attempt. It suffereth longer than charity, and hence came the adage, that "they who look for a silk gown always get a sleeve o't." It has been said, "Great is truth, and it will prevail;" and in addition thereunto, I would say, "Great is perseverance, for it also will prevail." The motto of every man should be, "nil desperandum." Every one should remember that real honour and esteem do not seek a man on whom they are to alight—the man must seek them; he must win them, and then wear them.
Instead, however, of detaining the reader with dull and general remarks on perseverance, I shall at once lay before them a copy of the autobiography of Roderic Gray, whose history will illustrate its effects in particulars:—
I was the son of poor but of honest parents. (With this stereotyped piece of history concerning poverty and honesty, Roderic Gray began his autobiography.) Yes, I repeat that my father and my mother were very poor, but they were sterlingly honest. They had a numerous family, and many privations to contend with; and the first thing I remember of my father was a constant, I may say a daily, expression of his, "Set a stout heart to a stey brae." Another great phrase of his, when any of us were like to be beaten by ought that we were attempting, was, "Try it again—never be beat—step by step brings the mountain low." My mother was of a disposition precisely similar to my father. Almost the first thing I remember of her is, what was her favourite expression, "Try it again, as your faither says—practice makes perfiteness."[7]
These expressions of my honoured parents were the rudiments of my education. They left an impression upon my heart and upon my brain, before I was sensible of what an impression was. There is often a great deal more conveyed through a single sentence, than we are apt to imagine. Our future destiny may be swayed by the hearing of one little word, and that word may be spoken in our hearing at a very early period of our lives. Many a father, when years began to sober down the buoyant tumult of his spirits, has wondered at and grieved over the disposition and actions of his son, marvelling whence they came; whereas the son received the feelings which gave birth to such actions, while he was but an infant, from the lips of his father, as he heard that father recount the deeds, the exploits, the feats of bravery of his young manhood. From the hour that a child begins to notice the objects around it, or to be sensible of kind or of harsh treatment, from that moment every one who takes it in their arms, every object around it, become its instructors. I find I am digressing from my autobiography, but I shall go on with it by and by, and as I have mentioned the subject of education, I shall say a few more words upon that topic, and especially on the education of the young, which, though it detain the reader for a short space from my history, will neither be uninstructive, nor without interest.