58 MEMOIR OF THOMAS BEWICK. 



during which interval a gentleman narrated the 

 following little anecdote, which, I find, my venerable 

 friend's modesty has omitted in his own Memoir. 

 The Duke of Northumberland, when first he called 

 to see Mr. Bewick's workshops, was not personally 

 known to my friend ; yet he showed him his birds, 

 blocks, and drawings, as he did to all, with the 

 greatest liberality and cheerfulness ; but, on disco- 

 vering the high rank of his visitor, exclaimed, 6 I 

 beg pardon, my Lord, I did not know your Grace, 

 and was unaware I had the honour of talking to 

 so great a man/ To which the duke good-humour- 

 edly replied, c You are a much greater man than 

 I am, Mr. Bewick/ To which my friend, with his 

 ready wit that never failed or offended, resumed, 

 No, my Lord ; but were / Duke of Northumber- 

 land perhaps I could be/ 



" A life of Bewick, without a word on his num- 

 berless and enrapturing VIGNETTES, would be the 

 story of Aladdin without his lamp. He is the very 

 Autolycus of tail-pieces, which he flings out faster 

 and more profusely, in ribands of all ramifications, 

 than a fire-eater at a fair ; ay, ' he utters them as 

 if he had eaten ballads, and all men's ears grew to 

 his tunes/ Do, reader, whatever be thy tempera- 

 ment, open any one of his books, and thou wilt 

 touch a key accordant. Look at the boy-soldiers 

 riding on gravestones, with rush-caps and swords 

 of seg : the two hindermost blackguard ragamuffins, 

 tattered and bare-legged ; the next a great awkward 

 booby, son of some scoundrel attorney; and the 



