’Just look at our preacher, when but a bit callan,
    The ills o’ cauld poortith he aft had to dree,
    But to better his lot the poor chiel aye was willin’—­
    At schule and at wark ever eident was he: 
    Sage books he wad read, and their truths he wad cherish,
    And earnestly sprauchle up learning’s steep brae;
    And noo he’s Mess John o’ his ain native parish—­
    Sae whare there’s a will there is always a way.

    ’And man, if ye saw how his manse is bedecket! 
    Ilk room’s like a palace, it’s plenished sae fine;
    And then wi’ the best in the land he’s respecket,
    And aft wi’ My Lord is invited to dine. 
    O Rab, then, be active; frae him tak’ example;
    His case speaks mair powerfu’ than ocht I can say;
    And soon ye will find that your talents are ample;
    For whare there’s a will there is always a way.

    ’What though we are cotters?—­the poorest may flourish,
    And wha wadna rise wi’ the glorious few? 
    Industry works wonders—­its spirit aye nourish—­
    It isna the drone gathers hinney, I trew. 
    Then onward, my laddie! ye canna regret it;
    What wrecks and what tears have been caused by delay! 
    If noble your wish is, press on, ye will get it! 
    For whare there’s a will there is always a way.’

    Thus spak my auld mither:  ilk word seemed a sermon,
    But just rather warldly, as ane micht alloo;
    But, haith, it inspired me, and made me determine
    To haud to the lair and keep progress in view. 
    Sae I tried ilka project instruction to gather: 
    When herdin’ the sheep for our laird, Ringan Gray,
    The Bible and Bunyan, I read ’mang the heather—­
    Aye whare there’s a will there is always a way.

    But my father he dee’d, and to help my auld mither
    I noo had to struggle wi’ hardship and care;
    And aften I thocht I wad stick a’thegither,
    But something within me said:  ‘Never despair!’
    At last I grew bein, for I toiled late and early,
    Syne to College I gaed, and was made a D.D. 
    And noo I’m Mess John in the Kirk o’ Glenfairly—­
    Sae whare there’s a will there is always a way.

    The manse—­but I shouldna wi’ vainity crack o’t—­
    Is as cozie a beil as a body could see;
    Hauf-hid ‘mang auld trees, wi’ braw parks at the back o’t,
    Whare lambs, ‘mang the gowans, are sporting wi’ glee. 
    I’ve got a bit wife too, a rich winsome lady—­
    In short, I hae a’ that a mortal could hae: 
    Sae onward, ye youths! as my auld mither said aye—­
    Whare’er there’s a will there is always a way. 
                                                A. M’KAY.

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