xlii 
LIFE OF WILSON. 
To Mr. WM. BARTRAM. 
Kingsessing^ Marcfh 31, 1804. 
“ I take the first few moments I have had since receiving your 
letter, to thank you for your obliging attention to my little attempts 
at drawing; and for the very affectionate expressions of esteem 
with which you honour me. But sorry I am, indeed, that afflic- 
tions so severe, as those you mention, should fall where so much 
worth and sensibility reside, while the profligate, the unthinking 
and unfeeling, so frequently pass through life, strangers to sickness, 
adversity or suffering. But God visits those with distress whose 
enjoyments he wishes to render more exquisite. The storms of 
affliction do not last for ever; and sweet is the serene air, and warm 
sunshine, after a day of darkness and tempest. Our friend has, 
indeed, passed away, in the bloom of youth and expectation ; but 
nothing has happened but what almost every day’s experience 
teaches us to expect. How many millions of beautiful flowers have 
flourished and faded under your eye; and how often has the whole 
profusion of blossoms, the hopes of a whole year, been blasted by 
an untimely frost. He has gone only a little before us ; we must 
soon follow ; but while the feelings of nature cannot be repressed, 
it is our duty to bow with humble resignation to the decisions of 
the great Father of all, rather receiving with gratitude the blessings 
he is pleased to bestow, than repining at the loss of those he thinks 
proper to take from us. But allow me, my dear friend, to with- 
draw your thoughts from so melancholy a subject, since the best 
way to avoid the force of any ovei'powering passion, is to turn its 
direction another way. 
^^That lovely season is now approaching, when the garden, 
woods and fields, will again display their foliage and flowers. Every 
day we may expect strangers, flocking from the south, to fill our 
woods with harmony. The pencil of Nature is now at work, and 
