Review of the Memoir 0/ Thomas Bewick. 371 



with the history and character of the domestic animals, but also 

 with those that roamed at large/' 



Passionately attached to the hounds, yet his tender and feeling 

 nature revolted from witnessing the death of a hare ; and he 

 thiis recounts his first and last capture of a bird, which he had 

 hit with a stone : — 



" The little victim dropped from the tree, and I picked it up. 

 It was alive, and looked me piteously in the face, and, as I 

 thought, could it have spoken, would have asked me why I had 

 taken away its life. I felt greatly hurt at what I had done, and 

 did not quit it all the afternoon. I turned it over and over, 

 admiring its plumage, its feet, its bill, and every part of it. It 

 was a Bullfinch. I did not then know its name, but I was told 

 it was a ' little Matthew Martin.' This was the last bird 

 I killed ; but many indeed have been killed since on my 

 account." 



The worrying of foxes, and the baiting of foumarts, otters, 

 and badgers (all much more abundant then than now), did not 

 awaken similar tender feelings ; there was some resistance and 

 retaliation, and in following these sports Bewick began to notice 

 rare birds. 



" In the vermin-hunting excursions in the depth of winter, 

 while the whole face of nature was bound in frost and covered 

 with deep snow, in traversing through bogs, amidst reeds and 

 rushes, I have often felt charmed with the sight of birds, flushed 

 and sometimes caught by the terrier dogs, which I had never 

 seen nor heard of before; and I am still in doubt whether some 

 of them have not escaped being noticed as British birds." 



Who shall say how many American stragglers have not thus 

 escaped being immortalized in British lists ? Bewick always 

 believed he had met with one of the Jacanas [Parra) in this 

 way. With our smaller birds he cultivated more intimate 

 acquaintance, by getting up before the servants and ensconcing 

 himself, especially during snow-storms, snugly in the cow-shed, 

 where, he says, 



" 1 watched the appearance of various birds which passed the 

 little dean below, and which the severity of the weather drove 

 from place to place in search of shelter. With the sight of my 



