XXXIV 
LIFE OF WILSON. 
considerations which should have their weight, in determining 
in an aflfair of so much importance. These were frankly stated; 
and followed by advice, which did not quadrate with the tempe- 
rament of Wilson; who, vexed that his friend would not enter 
into his feelings, expressed his scorn of the maxims of pru- 
dence with which he was assailed, by styling them the offspring 
of a cold, calculating, selfish philosophy. Under date of 
March 12th, 1804, he thus writes to the last named gentleman: 
“ I dare say you begin to think me very ungenerous and un- 
friendly in not seeing you for so long a time. I will simply 
state the cause, and I know you will excuse me. Six days in 
one week I have no more time than just to swallow my meals, 
and return to my Sanctum Sanctorum. Five days of the 
following week are occupied in the same routine of pedagogu- 
ing matters; and the other two are sacrificed to that itch for 
drawing, which I caught from your honourable self. I never 
was more wishful to spend an afternoon with you. In three 
weeks I shall have a few days vacancy, and mean to be in 
town chief part of the time. I am most earnestly bent on pur- 
suing my plan of making a collection of all the birds in this 
part of North America. Now I don’t want you to throw cold 
water, as Shakspeare says, on this notion. Quixotic as it may 
appear. I have been so long accustomed to the building of 
airy castles and brain windmills, that it has become one of my 
earthly comforts, a sort of a rough bone, that amuses me when 
sated with the dull drudgery of life.” 
TO MR. WM. BARTRAM. 
March 29, 1804. 
“ Three months have passed away since I had the pleasure 
of seeing you; and three dark and heavy months they have 
been to your family. My heart has shared in your distress, 
and sincerely sympathises with you for the loss you have sus- 
tained. But Time, the great curer of every grief, will gradu- 
ally heal those wounds which Misfortune has inflicted; and 
