g(3 MEM OIK OF THOMAS BEWICK. 



picking, chipping, and finishing a hlock, talking, 

 whistling, and sometimes singing, while his friends 

 have been drinking wine at his profusely hospitable 

 .table. At nights, after a hard day's work, he gene- 

 rally relieved his powerful mind in the bosom of his 

 very amiable family ; either by hearing Scotch songs 

 (of which he was passionately fond) sung to the 

 piano-forte ; or his son Robert dirl hornpipes, jigs, 

 strathspeys, and reels, which failed not to put life 

 and mettle in the heels of the females and younger 

 friends, to his glorious delight. Occasionally his 

 fondling Jane would read Shakspeare to him, or 

 the delightsome romances of Shakspeare's congener 

 (not to speak profanely), Sir Walter Scott. It has 

 been supposed by many, and publicly asserted by a 

 few, that Bewick never wrote his own works, but 

 was wholly and solely employed on the designs ; to 

 this I have his positive contradiction, which would 

 be enough ; but that in addition to his own MEMOIR, 

 which I have read in his own MS., I have seen him 

 compose, extract, and translate passages for each 

 bird he has engraved while I was in his house. If 

 his works have any great defect, 'tis the defect of 

 omission ; every one laments he has given so little 

 of the history of each bird. I have often offered 

 him to re-write the whole of the birds wherewith 

 from early and lasting habits I was well acquainted, 

 their characters and manners, interspersed with 

 anecdotes and poetry, particularly from good old 

 Chaucer, the bard of birds, and passages of every 

 bearing brought together, flinging over the whole 



