MEMOIR OF THOMAS BEWICK. 69 



Bewick, to which the other replied that Bewick 

 was next to Nature. Here the old gentleman seized 

 me hy the thigh with his very hand-vice of a grasp ; 

 and I contrived to keep up the shuttlecock of conver- 

 sation playfully to his highest satisfaction, though 

 they who praised him so ardently, little imagined 

 whose ears imbibed all their honest incense. On 

 evenings we often smoked in the open windows of his 

 pleasant lodgings, and chatted in all the luxury of 

 intellectual leisure. A cocky wren ran, like a 

 mouse, along the ledge of the window. ' Now/ 

 says he, ' when that little fellow sings, he sings 

 heartily!' Upon which the merry little creature, 

 as if conscious of our conviviality, and of who heard 

 him, perched on a post, and trilled his shrilly treble 

 with thrilling might and main. Of nights we had 

 music, the young ladies sang, or we read marvellous 

 or merry ballads, or again relapsed into our plea- 

 santries ; fully agreeing with the piquant and pithy 

 Yenusian poet, that fun is no foe to philosophy, to 

 mix short sallies with our serious discourse, and 

 nothing so sweet as to play the fool when fitting. 



' Misce stultitiain consiliis brevem 

 Dulce est desipere in loco.' 



" Of Lord Byron's poetry he spoke with great 

 disgust, saying, it teemed with less imagination, and 

 more trash, in any quantity, than that of any other 

 great poet; that power was the prominent feature 

 of his mind, which he prostituted; and the great 

 failing of his heart was depravity, which he adorned. 



