G4 MEMOIR OF JOHN WILSON. 



consider the ways of Providence I am astonished. Whoever mar- 

 ries her, let his virtues be what they may, I know he never could 

 make her as happy as I could. He would not love her with so vast 

 and yet so tender a love." 



With a true poet's mind, he fears the change an unworthy help- 

 mate would bring to her refined and enlightened spirit : — 



" If my rival in her affections were a being superior to myself, I 

 would not repine ; at least, not so much as I now do, when I am 

 afraid he is unworthy of her and inferior to me. Does Margaret 

 prefer this man to me ? That she does I am afraid is too true. 

 Will he make her as happy as I could ? Can he like her as well as 

 I do ? Both suppositions are impossible. The wife of a soldier 

 seldom sees intellectual scenes; and, in progress of time, that 

 angel Margaret, for whom I would sacrifice every thing on earth, 

 may become — oh, I shudder to think of it ! — a person of common 

 feelings,* and laugh at all I have said to her, at my misery, my 

 love, and my delusions. Such are often the transmigrations of 

 spirit ; or, rather, the transformations which Providence permits to 

 humble the hopes and destroy the happiness of those it made ca- 

 pable of prodigious enjoyment. May I never live to see that day !" 



After relieving his breast by this outburst, he returns to his 

 walking : — 



" I had almost forgot our walking match. I went from Notting- 

 ham to Birmingham. There I met Blair. ... He intends visiting 

 me, perhaps at Christmas ; but I will tell you, however, when I 

 expect him, and you must try to spare a few days from that eternal 

 copying of letters, and see what an appearance an old friend cuts 

 in purgatory. 



" I have sent — at least, am going to send — you a small parcel, 

 containing the sermon I wrote, and a letter to Margaret. You may 

 open the parcel, and read the sermon, if you choose. Pack them 

 up in your best manner, and direct them to Miss M., College 

 Buildings, Glasgow. I suppose you have safe communication with 

 Glasgow, for I would not for the world the parcel was lost, as the 

 letter is not for every eye, and contains secret feelings. 



* This reminds one of Locksley Hall : — 



" Is it well to wish thee happy ? — having known me, to decline 

 On a range of lower feelings, and a narrower heart than mine ! 

 Tet it shall be : thou shalt lower to his level day by day, 

 What is fine within thee growing coarse to sympathize with clay. 1 ' 



