Life, Genius, and Personal Habits of Bewick. 108 
ous planets of heaven, or emblazoned, in golden emeralds, the 
panoply of the smallest insects of earth. He fully felt that 
organised orbs or atoms tell equally of their ineffable Archi- 
Pens and this it was his incessant desire to impress on the 
minds of all. Having exhausted the quadrupeds and British 
birds as vehicles to his art, instruction, and amusements, he, 
late in life, took up a fervent resolution to engrave all the Bri- 
tish Fishes, and write their histories. To this his mind was 
well trained, having been ever a lover of the fountains and 
rills, the still pools and broad waters, the majestic rivers and 
the mighty ocean. Here he felt the seeds of his talent stirring 
all a-life, where he should have to display the beauties of the 
finny tribe, and treat of the wonders of the great deep. When 
I was last in Northumberland, they showed me thirt ty fishes 
he had cut by way of trial, with the spirit and execution 
whereof himself was well satisfied, and his judicious friends 
enraptured ; together with more than a hundred tail-pieces, 
conceived and cut, ‘“‘ ay, every inch,” with all his usual ima- 
ginative appropriation and power. His mind and conversa- 
foe now dwelt forcibly and fondly upon this work, which it 
was his extreme wish to see complete, and then placidly to 
resign his soul to his Creator, the short and nearing approach 
to whom he contemplated with even cheerful contentedness. 
His art here got entirely into a new element; for, as he was 
forced to show the fishes out of water, he was deprived of his 
favourite excellence, motion; yet such motion as a fish new- 
landed has, he has given with elasticity and life: brilliance to 
the scaly, and lubricity to the smooth; so as to remind the 
naturalist of excellent old Chaucer’s touches of nature, where 
« They swommin full of smalé fishes lighte, 
With finnis rede, and scalis silver brighte.” 
A single impression of his John Dorée sold lately in London 
for ten guineas. And when they do come out, though every 
admirer will lament he was, long ere completion, called to his 
blessed account, their sorrow will be softened at beholding 
with what effect and spirit his animated graver has been caught 
up by his son. We love to talk over sweet or bitter adven- 
tures ; for the ruminating mind, chewing the cud of past life, 
extracts a cordial from the one, and a salubrity from the other, 
which we are ever desirous of imparting: so that I feel as 
heavy at taking leave of my narrative of these pleasures, as I 
was of the bright and alluring friends by whom they were 
enkindled. But “good times, bad times, and all times get 
over ;” and morning after morning was named for my retrac- 
ing my long and lonely journey. Thad never parted trom him 
H 4 
