LIFE OF WILSON. 
XXV 
" You must excuse me for anything I may have said amiss, or anything I 
may have omitted to mention. I am, with sincere attachment, your affection- 
ate friend." 
The foregoing letters place the character of Wilson in the most amiable 
point of view ; and they entirely supersede any remarks which I might make 
upon those social affections that distinguished him through life. 
In his new situation Wilson had many enjoyments; but he had likewise mo- 
ments of despondency, which solitude tended to confirm. He had addicted 
himself to the writing of verses, and to music; and, being of a musing turn 
of mind, had given way to those seductive feelings, which the charming 
scenery of the country, in a sensible heart, never fails to awaken. This was a 
fatal bias, which all his efforts could not counteract or remove. His acquaint- 
ance perceived the danger of his state ; and one in whose friendship he had 
placed strong reliance, and to whom he had freely unburthened himself, Mr. 
Lawson, the engraver, entertained apprehensions for the soundness of his in- 
tellect.* There was one subject which contributed not a little to increase his 
mental gloom, and this was the consideration of the life of penury and de- 
pendence to which he seemed destined as the teacher of a country school. 
Mr. Lawson immediately recommended the renouncing of poetry and the flute, 
and the substituting of the amusement of drawing in their stead, as being 
most likely to restore the balance of his mind ; and as an employment well 
adapted to one of his recluse habits and inclinations. To this end sketches 
of the human figure, and landscapes, were provided for him ; but his attempts 
were so unpromising that he threw them aside with disgust; and concluded 
that one at his period of life could never succeed in the art of delineation. 
Mr. Bartram now advised a trial at birds; and being tolerably skilful himself, 
exhibited his portfolio, which was graced with many specimens from his own 
hands. The attempt was made, and succeeded beyond the expectation of 
Wilson, or that of his friends. There was a magic in the employment which 
aroused all the energies of his soul ; he saw, as it were, the dayspring of a 
new creation ; and, from being the humble follower of his instructors, he 
was soon qualified to lead the way in the charming art of imitating the works 
of the Great Original. 
That Wilson likewise undertook the task of delineating flowers, appears 
from the following note to Mr. Bartram, dated November 20th, 1803 : 
* The following incident was communicated to me by Colonel Carr, who had it from 
Wilson himself. While the latter labored under great depression of spirits, in order to 
soothe his mind he one day rambled with his gun. The piece by accident slipped from his 
hand, and, in making an effort to regain it, the lock was cocked. At that moment had 
the gun gone off, it is more than probable that he would have lost his life, as the muzzle 
was opposite to his breast. When Wilson reflected on the danger which he had escaped, 
he shuddered at the idea of the imputation of suicide, which a fatal occurrence, to one in 
his frame of mind, would have occasioned. There is room to conjecture that many have 
accidentally met their end, whose memories have been sullied by the alleged crime of 
self-murder. 
