126 THE HERONRIES OF AMERICA. 



friendly and family intimacy. Would that we knew the men with 

 whom we transact business as well as Wilson knew the bird qua, 

 or the heron of the Carolinas ! 



It is easily understood, and not difficult to imagine, that when 

 this bird-man returned among men, he met with none that could 

 comprehend him. His peculiarly novel originality, his marvellous 

 exactness, his unique faculty of individualization (the onJy means 

 of re-making of re-creating^ the living being), were the chief obstacles 

 to his success. Neither publishers nor public cared for more than 

 noble, lofty, and vague generalities, in faithfid observance of Buffi)n's 

 precept : To generalize is to ennoble ; therefore, adopt the word 

 " general." 



It required time, and, more than all, it required that this fertile 

 genius should after his death inspire a similar genius, the accurate and 

 patient Audubon, whose colossal work has astonished and subjugated 

 the public, by demonstrating that the true and Kving in representa- 

 tion of individuality is nobler and more majestic than the forced pro- 

 ducts of the generalizing art. 



Wilson's sweetness of disposition, so unworthily misilnderstood, 

 shines forth in his beautiful preface. To some it may appear 

 infantine, but no innocent heart can be otherwise than moved 

 by it. 



" On a visit to a friend, I found that his young son, about eight 

 or nine years of age, who had been brought up in the town, but was 

 then living in the country, had just collected, while wandering in the 

 fields, a fine nosegay of wild-flowers of eveiy hue. He presented it 

 to his mother, with the gTeatest animation, saying : ' Dear mamma, 

 see what beautiful flowers I have gathered ! Oh, I could pluck a 

 host of others which gi'ow in our woods, and are still more lovely ! 

 Shall I not bring you some more, mamma ? ' She took the nosegay 

 with a smile of tenderness, silently admired the simple and touching 

 beauty of nature, and said to him, ' Yes, my son.' The child started 

 off" on the wings of happiness. 



" I saw myself in that child, and was struck with the resemblance 



