They were happy years, the four I spent in Glasgow, for I was young and ardent, and had not yet suffered the grave miscarriage of hope which is our human lot.  My uncle was a busy merchant, but he was also something of a scholar, and was never happier than when disputing some learned point with a college professor over a bowl of punch.  He was a great fisherman, too, and many a salmon I have seen him kill between the town and Rutherglen in the autumn afternoons.  He treated me like a son, and by his aid I completed my education by much reading of books and a frequent attendance at college lectures.  Such leisure as I had I spent by the river-side talking with the ship captains and getting news of far lands.  In this way I learned something of the handling of a ship, and especially how to sail a sloop alone in rough weather, I have ventured, myself the only crew, far down the river to the beginning of the sealocks, and more than once escaped drowning by a miracle.  Of a Saturday I would sometimes ride out to Auchencairn to see my mother and assist with my advice the work of Robin Gilfillan.  Once I remember I rode to Carnwath, and looked again on the bleak house where the girl Elspeth had sung to me in the rain.  I found it locked and deserted, and heard from a countrywoman that the folk had gone.  “And a guid riddance,” said the woman.  “The Blairs was aye a cauld and oppressive race, and they were black Prelatists forbye.  But I whiles miss yon hellicat lassie.  She had a cheery word for a’body, and she keepit the place frae languor.”

But I cannot linger over the tale of those peaceful years when I have so much that is strange and stirring to set down.  Presently came the Revolution, when King James fled overseas, and the Dutch King William reigned in his stead.  The event was a godsend to our trade, for with Scotland in a bicker with Covenants and dragoonings, and new taxes threatened with each new Parliament, a merchant’s credit was apt to be a brittle thing.  The change brought a measure of security, and as we prospered I soon began to see that something must be done in our Virginian trade.  Years before, my uncle had sent out a man, Lambie by name, who watched his interests in that country.  But we had to face such fierce rivalry from the Bristol merchants that I had small confidence in Mr. Lambie, who from his letters was a sleepy soul.  I broached the matter to my uncle, and offered to go myself and put things in order.  At first he was unwilling to listen.  I think he was sorry to part with me, for we had become close friends, and there was also the difficulty of my mother, to whom I was the natural protector.  But his opposition died down when I won my mother to my side, and when I promised that I would duly return.  I pointed out that Glasgow and Virginia were not so far apart.  Planters from the colony would dwell with us for a season, and their sons often come to Glasgow for their schooling.  You could see the proud fellows walking the streets