YEAR 1807
THIS was a year to me of satisfaction in many points; for a greater
number of my younger flock married in it, than had done for any one of
ten years prior. They were chiefly the offspring of the marriages that
took place at the close of the American war; and I was pleased to see the
duplification of well-doing, as I think marrying is, having always
considered the command to increase and multiply, a holy ordinance, which
the circumstances of this world but too often interfere to prevent.
It was also made manifest to me, that in this year there was a very
general renewal in the hearts of men, of a sense of the utility, even in
earthly affairs, of a religious life: in some, I trust it was more than
prudence, and really a birth of grace. Whether this was owing to the
upshot of the French Revolution, all men being pretty well satisfied in
their minds, that uproar and rebellion make but an ill way of righting
wrongs, or that the swarm of unruly youth the offspring, as I have said,
of the marriages after the American war, had grown sobered from their
follies, and saw things in a better light, I cannot take upon me to say.
But it was very edifying to me, their minister, to see several lads who
had been both wild and free in their principles, marrying with sobriety,
and taking their wives to the kirk with the comely decorum of heads of
families.
But I was now growing old, and could go seldomer out among my people than
in former days; so that I was less a partaker of their ploys and
banquets, either at birth, bridal, or burial. I heard, however, all that
went on at them, and I made it a rule, after giving the blessing at the
end of the ceremony, to admonish the bride and bridegroom to ca’ canny,
and join trembling with their mirth. It behoved me on one occasion,
however, to break through a rule that age and frailty had imposed upon
me, and to go to the wedding of Tibby Banes, the daughter of the
betheral, because she had once been a servant in the manse, besides the
obligation upon me, from her father’s part both in the kirk and kirkyard.
Mrs. Balwhidder went with me, for she liked to countenance the
pleasantries of my people; and, over and above all, it was a pay-wedding,
in order to set up the bridegroom in a shop.
There was, to be sure, a great multitude, gentle and semple, of all
denominations, with two fiddles and a bass, and the volunteers’ fife and
drum; and the jollity that went on was a perfect feast of itself, though
the wedding-supper was a prodigy of abundance. The auld carles kecklet
with fainness as they saw the young dancers; and the carlins sat on
forms, as mim as May puddocks, with their shawls pinned apart, to show
their muslin napkins. But, after supper, when they had got a glass of
the punch, their heels showed their mettle, and grannies danced with
their oyes, holding out their hands as if they had been spinning with two
rocks. I told Colin Mavis, the poet, than an _Infare_ was a fine subject
for his muse; and soon after he indited an excellent ballad under that
title, which he projects to publish, with other ditties, by subscription;
and I have no doubt a liberal and discerning public will give him all
manner of encouragement, for that is the food of talent of every kind;
and without cheering, no one can say what an author’s faculty naturally
is.