10 h J-'ifri Genius, and Personal Habits of Bemick. 



without our reciprocally thinking it would be the last ; but 

 this time we both thought otherwise, for his health was very 

 much ameliorated. Black Monday at length came; and 

 though the sun shone broad on every thing around, they 

 walked slowly, and methought strangely silent, with me (I 

 leading Rosalind, heavy as a nightmare), about two miles on 

 the road, where, after saluting the young ladies, and shaking 

 the good old Bewick's hand, though I hope to enjoy their 

 friendship yet many years, it was on that mountain side that 

 with him I parted for ever ; and looking back, till the road 

 turned the corner of a rock, dimly saw them kindly gazing 

 after me : and this was the last time I ever beheld the portly 

 person of my benevolent and beloved friend. We continued, 

 however, to correspond frequently ; not only on natural his- 

 tory, but (as the Irish scholar said) " de omnibus rebus, et 

 quibusdam aliis^^ on the manners of both feathered and unfea- 

 thered bipeds. The next summer, he visited London about 

 his works : and thence he wrote me several very humorous 

 letters on the utterly artificial life of the cockneys ; with the 

 mass of whom, since he was among them half a century before, 

 he thought the march of intellect had not equalled the march of 

 impudence. He was, however, very honourably received by 

 many learned societies and individuals, of whom, and of whose 

 collections, he wrote in raptures. On his return, the London 

 and provincial papers had many paragraphs respecting this 

 visit, his reception, and his life ; to amend the errors of which 

 statements, T must have been writing one at the very hour of 

 his death ; for I had not time to stop its insertion in one of the 

 Shrewsbury papers, when I received a short, but most affec- 

 tionate and affecting letter from his son, informing me, " as his 

 father's most valued friend," that he expired, in full possession 

 of his fine and powerful mental faculties, in quiet and cheer- 

 ful resignation, on the 8th of November, 1828. On the morn- 

 ing of his death, he had the satisfaction of seeing the first 

 proof-impression of a series of large wood-engravings he had 

 undertaken, in a superior style, for the walls of farm-houses, 

 inns, and cottages, with a view to abate cruelty, mitigate pain, 

 and imbue the mind and heart with tenderness and humanity ; 

 and this he called his last legacy to suffering and insulted 

 Nature. 



I strongly feel that some apology is due to the public for 

 the freedom, haste, and familiarity with which I have thrown 

 off these pages ; and I cannot better express it than by a 

 stanza from fine old Spenser, and which my intrepid and in- 

 genious friend frequently applied to his own works : — 



