442 Life of Audubon, 



members of my dear family, enjoying the affection of nu- 

 merous friends, who have never abandoned me, and pos- 

 sessing a sufficient share of all that contributes to make 

 Hfe agreeable, I lift my grateful eyes towards the Supreme 

 Being and feel that I am happy." 



After 1848 the naturalist's mind entirely failed him ; 

 and during the last years of his life his eye lost its bright- 

 ness, and he had to be led to his daily walks by the hand 

 of a servant. This continued until the Monday before 

 his death. In the words of William Wilson : 



" Waning life and weary, 



Fainting heart and limb, 

 Darkening road and dreary^ 



Flashing eye grown dim ; 

 All betokening night-fall near, 

 Day is done and rest is dear." 



On Monday morning he declined to eat his breakfast, 

 and was unable to take his usual morning walk. Mrs. 

 Audubon had him put to bed, and he lay without apparent 

 suffering, but refusing to receive any nourishment, until 

 five o'clock on Thursday morning, January 27th, 1851, 

 when a deep pallor overspread his countenance. The 

 other members of his family were immediately sent for to 

 his bedside. Then, though he did not speak, his eyes, 

 which had been so long nearly quenched, rekindled into 

 their former lustre and beauty ; his spirit seemed to be 

 conscious that it was ajDproaching the spirit-land. One 

 of the sons said, " Minnie, father's eyes have now their 

 natural expression ; " and the departing' man reached out 

 his arms, took his wife's and children's hands between his 

 own, and passed peacefully away. 



Four days later the friends and neighbors, together 

 with numerous men of letters and savants from New 

 York, who were not deterred by the stormy day from at- 



