THOMAS BEWICK. 303 



history. Now and then he would start and exclaim, " Oh, that I were 

 young again ! I would go to America too. Hey ! what a country it will 

 be, Mr Audubon." I retorted by exclaiming, " Hey ! what a country it 

 is already, Mr Bewick !" In the midst of our conversation on birds and 

 other animals, he drank my health and the peace of all the world in hot 

 brandy toddy, and I returned the compliment, wishing, no doubt in ac- 

 cordance with his own sentiments, the health of all our enemies. His 

 daughters enjoyed the scene, and remarked, that for years, their father 

 had not been in such a flow of spirits. 



I regret that I have not by me at present the letter which this gene- 

 rous and worthy man gave me that evening, otherwise, for his sake, I 

 should have presented you with it. It is in careful keeping, however, as a 

 memorial of a man whose memory is dear to me ; and be assured I regard 

 it with quite as much pleasure as a manuscript " Synopsis of the Birds 

 of America," by Alexander Wilson, which that celebrated individual 

 gave to me at Louisville in Kentucky, more than twenty years ago. 

 Bewick's letter, however, will be presented to you along with iDany others, 

 in connection with some strange facts, which I hope may be useful to the 

 world. We protracted our conversation beyond our usual time of retir- 

 ing to rest, and at his earnest request, and much to my satisfaction, I 

 promised to spend the next evening with him, as it was to be my last at 

 Newcastle for some time. 



On the 19th of the same month I paid him my last visit, at his house. 

 When we parted, he repeated three times, " God preserve you, God bless 

 you !" He must have been sensible of the emotion which I felt, and 

 which he must have read in my looks, although I refrained from speaking 

 on the occasion. 



A few weeks previous to the death of this fervent admirer of nature, 

 he and his daughters paid me a visit in London. He looked as well as 

 when I had seen him at Newcastle. Our interview was short but agree- 

 able, and when he bade adieu, I was certainly far from thinking that it 

 might be the last. But so it was, for only a very short time had elapsed 

 when I saw his death announced in the newspapers. 



My opinion of this remarkable man is, that he was purely a son of 

 nature, to whom alone he owed nearly all that characterized him as an 

 artist and a man. Warm in his affections, of deep feeling, and possessed 

 of a vigorous imagination, with correct and penetrating observation, he 



