322 MEMOIR OE JOHN WILSON. 



morously described, was taken to Westmoreland by Professor Wil- 

 son, in order to make drawings for an intended work descriptive of 

 lake scenery ; a design, however, that came to an end, owing to 

 an untimely disaster that overtook the numerous illustrations that- 

 bad been made. 



A letter from so celebrated a man as Thomas Carlyle naturally 

 awakens interest, to know how he and Professor Wilson regarded 

 each other. The terms of affection expressed in this epistle would 

 lead to a supposition that there had been an intimate intercourse 

 between them. But either want of opportunity or other circum- 

 stances prevented the continuance of personal friendship. It seems 

 that these two gifted men never met, at least not more than once 

 again after their first introduction, which took place in the house 

 of Mr. John Gordon, at one time a favorite pupil, and ever after a 

 dearly-loved friend of my father. 



" Craigenputtock, Dumfries, 

 19 th December, 1829. 



" Mv dear Sir : — Your kind promise of a Christmas visit has 

 not been forgotten here ; and though we are not without misgiv- 

 ings as to its fulfilment, some hope also still lingers ; at all events, 

 if we must go unserved, it shall not be for want of wishing and 

 audible asking. Come, then, if you would do us a high favor, that 

 warm hearts may welcome in the cold New-Year, and the voice of 

 poetry and philosophy, nameris lege solutis, may for once be heard 

 in these deserts, where, since Noah's deluge, little but the whirring 

 of heath-cocks and the lowing of oxen has broken the stillness. 

 You shall have a warm fire, and a warm welcome ; and we will 

 talk in all dialects, concerning all things, climb to hill-tops, and see 

 certain of the kingdoms of this world, and at night gather round 

 a clear hearth, and forget that winter and the devil are so busy in 

 our planet. There are seasons when one seems as if emancipated 

 from the ' prison called life,' as if its bolts were broken, and the 

 Russian ice-palace were changed into an open sunny Tempe, and 

 man might love his brother without fraud or fear ! A few such 

 hours are scattered over our existence, otherwise it were too hard, 

 and would make us too hard. 



" But now descending to prose arrangements, or capabilities of 

 arrangement, let me remind you how easy it is to be conveyed 

 hither. There is a mail-coach nightly to Dumfries, and two stage- 



