LIFE OF WILSON. 
XXV 
will enable you, but from a solicitude for a sister’s health, who 
has sustained more distress than usual. I know the rude ap- 
pearance of the country, and the want of many usual conve- 
niences, will for some time affect her spirits; let it be your plea- 
sure and study to banish these melancholy moments from her 
as much as possible. Whatever inconveniences they may for a 
while experience, it was well they left this devoted city. The 
fever, that yellow genius of destruction, has sent many poor 
mortals to their long homes since you departed; and the gen- 
tleman who officiates as steward to the Hospital informed me 
yesterday evening that it rages worse this week than at any 
former period this season, though the physicians have ceased 
reporting. Every kind of business has been at a stand these 
three months, but the business of death. 
“You intimate your design of coming down next spring. 
Alexander seems to have the same intention. How this will be 
done, consistent with providing for the family, is not so clear 
to me. Let me give my counsel on the subject You will see 
by your father’s letters that he cannot be expected before next 
July, or August perhaps, a time when you must of necessity be 
at home. Your coming down, considering loss of time and 
expenses, and calculating what you might do on the farm, or 
at the loom, or at other jobs, would not clear you more than 
twenty dollars difference, unless you intended to remain here 
five or six months, in which time much might be done by you 
and Alexander on the place. I am sorry he has been so soon 
discouraged with farming. Were my strength but equal to my 
spirit, I would abandon my school for ever for such an employ- 
ment. Habit will reconcile him to all difficulties. It is more 
healthy, more independent and agreeable than to be cooped up 
in a subterraneous dungeon, surrounded by gloomy damps, and 
breathing an unwholesome air from morning to night, shut out 
from Nature’s fairest scenes and the pure air of heaven. When 
necessity demands such a seclusion, it is noble to obey; but 
when we are left to choice, who would bury themselves alive? 
It is only in winter that I would recommend the loom to both 
VOL I. — D 
