260 MEMOIR OF GEORGE WILSON. CHAP. VI. 



favoured as possible). But I have ceased to make vows of re- 

 nunciation of the love of ladies. I find they are followed by the 

 same consequences as vows to abandon smoking. It would be 

 shabby to give up smoking when your tobacco is done, as if 

 poverty or avarice were the motives. So I get some of the 

 dearest, such as shall be worth giving up ; but, alas ! it takes so 

 long to smoke a farewell that the weed gets done, and the old 

 objection is as strong as ever. 



" So with the dear damsels, I clothe myself with my vow as 

 with a brow of brass, and away to show the nintiness of my 

 heart. But, alas ! what can the old Adam do against the young 

 Eves ? (By-the-by, how curiously that word rhymes with 

 thieves.) An ignominious defeat is the end of both attempts. 



" Last night I spent in the company of my very dearly be- 

 loved and bonnie - , a young lady of some twelve years' 

 acquaintance with the world, who, had I my will, should never 

 grow a day older or an inch higher. The dear lassie sings like 

 an angel, and is as graceful as a young fawn and as artless as 

 the first Eve was. Why must she outgrow her present perfec- 

 tion,, and become a grave woman ? I see not, though I feel the 

 necessity. Good night, Maggie. I have set my brain on fire 

 thinking of the lassies." 



During the winter he had suffered a good deal from rheu- 

 matism ; and in the hope of regaining strength, he paid a visit 

 in autumn to his brother in London. Travelling by Glasgow 

 and Liverpool, he, as usual, met with much courtesy from unex- 

 pected quarters. Alexander Russell, the youngest of the cousins 

 already frequently mentioned, resided at that time in Liverpool. 

 In his first letter from London, George says, " I was very kindly 

 treated at Liverpool. When I arrived I found that Alick had 

 not got my letter. Accordingly, I went with a cab straight on 

 to his lodgings, and found there his landlady, a very kindly 

 and superior person, young and ladylike, who, finding I had 

 come off a journey and was alone, made me tea, brought out 

 her own pleasant home-made brown bread, and sat and chatted 

 with me. All this and other kindnesses, I am sure, will never 

 be charged to Alick's account ; for the secret came out after- 



