ALEXANDER AVILSON 



IT was at this unsettled stage of his 

 career that Wilson, always eager for 

 a change, went to visit his brother-in-law 

 William Duncan at Queensferry, where he 

 remained for a few months assisting his 

 relative in his business and afterward ac- 

 companying him on what his biographer 

 describes as "a mercantile traveling tour" 

 over the eastern districts of Scotland. 



This trip took him further afield than he 

 had ever been before: new scenes, new in- 

 cidents expanded his views, a pedlar's life 

 presented itself as a life of independence; 

 and now that he had at length the oppor- 

 tunity of engaging in so congenial a career, 

 he realized for the first time how utterly 

 distasteful was the sedentary employment 

 for which he had been trained. 



Full of his new plans, and resolved to 

 attempt " the establishment of his good 

 fortune in the world," as he tells us, he 

 applied to his friends, who assisted him in 

 providing the requisites for a small pack 

 containing silks, muslins, prints, etc., and 

 thus provided, he entered on his new ca- 

 reer with a light heart and sanguine ex- 

 pectations of success. 



The life itself was not without its charms 

 — alive to the beauties of Nature, it was 

 no mean privilege to be afforded daily 

 opportunities of visiting the places rich in 

 historic interest or scenic beauty that lie 

 scattered over all the extent of the land. 

 "His attention," says his biographer, "was 

 attracted by everything of worth, and he 

 would often leave his pack to visit some 

 place of antiquity, or the former residences 

 of his favorite authors and poets." 



During his wanderings as a pedlar he 

 visited every churchyard which lay in his 

 way, transcribing all curious and quaint 

 epitaphs, of which he made a collection of 

 over three hundred, but these with other 

 of his desultory writings were lost in sub- 



sequent wanderings without having been 

 given to the world, which is a great pity, 

 for some Scottish epitaphs are very quaint. 



While engaged in this occupation Wilson 

 was adding constantly to his collection of 

 poems, in which he described the leading 

 incidents and emotions of his life; and 

 from some of these it is evident that he 

 found the life of a pedlar one that exposed 

 him to cold, fatigue and hunger as well as 

 to many petty annoyances that galled him 

 sorely. It was by no means the life his 

 fancy had painted it; the frequent cold 

 repulses to which he was subjected and 

 the meagreness of the profits resulted in 

 his returning to Paisley somewhat dis- 

 gusted, and in his attempting to secure 

 fame and fortune by the publication of his 

 poems. 



Encouraged by the favorable opinion of 

 Mr. Crichton of the Towns Hospital, he 

 published his poems, set forth the merits of 

 the contents of his pack in the following 

 quaint handbill, and once more started to 

 seek a market for the contents of his pack 

 and for his new volume of poems. 



Advertisement Extraordinary. 



Fair ladies, I pray, for one moment to stay, 



Until with submission I tell you, 

 What muslins so curious, for uses so various, 



A poet has here brought to sell you. 



Here's handkerchiefs charming; book muslins like 

 ermine, 



Brocaded, striped, corded, and check'd. 

 Sweet Venus, they say, on Cupid's birthday, 



In British-made muslins was decked. 



If these can't content ye, here's muslins in plenty, 



From one shilling up to a dozen. 

 That Juno might wear, and more beauteous ap- 

 pear, 



When she meant the old Thunderer to cozen. 



Here are fine jaconets, of numberless sets, 

 With spotted and sprigged festoons; 



And lovely tambours, with elegant flowers, 

 For bonnets, cloaks, aprons, or gowD=. 



