XXIV 
LIFE OF WILSON. 
The confinement of the loom did not agree either with Wil- 
son’s habits or inclinations ; and learning that there was consider- 
able encouragement afforded to settlers in Virginia, he migrated 
thither, and took up his residence near Shepherd’s Town, in that 
part of the state known by the name of New Virginia.* Here he 
again found himself necessitated to engage in the same sedentary 
occupation ; and soon becoming disgusted with the place, he re- 
turned to the mansion of his friend, Mr. Sullivan. 
I find from one of his journals, that, in the autumn of the year 
1795, he travelled through the north part of the state of Newjer- 
sey, with an acquaintance, in the capacity of a pedler, and met 
with tolerable success. 
His diary of this journey is interesting. It was written with 
so much care, that one is tempted to conjecture that he spent more 
time in literary occupation than in vending his merchandise. It 
contains observations on the manners of the people ; and remarks 
on the principal natural productions of Newjersey; with sketches 
of the most noted indigenous quadrupeds and birds. In these 
sketches one is enabled to perceive the dawning of that talent for 
description, which was afterwards revealed with so much lustre. 
On his return from this trading adventure, he opened a school 
on the Oxford road, about five miles to the north of Frankford, 
^ The habits of the people with whom Wilson was compelled to associate, in this sec- 
tion of the state, it should seem, gave him no satisfaction ; and the life he led added not a 
little to the chagrin which he suffered on finding himself an alien to those social pleasures 
which, hitherto, had tended to sweeten his existence. His letters at this period would, no 
doubt, afford some curious particulars, illustrative of his varied life ; but none of them have 
fallen into my hands. The following extract from some of his manuscript verses will lead to 
the conclusion that he did not quit Virginia with regret : 
“ Farewell to Virginia, to Berkley adieu. 
Where, like Jacob, our days have been evil and few 1 
So few — they seem’d really but one lengthen’d curse ; 
And so bad — that the Devil could have only sent worse.” 
