AUDUBON 77 



which none can fathom, and it could not have been far to 

 go, no long and weary journey, when, after a few days of 

 increasing feebleness, for there was no illness, just as sun- 

 set was flooding the pure, snow-covered landscape with 

 golden light, at five o'clock on Monday, January 27, 185 1, 

 the " pard-like spirit, beautiful and swift, . . . outsoared 

 the shadow of our night." 



In a quiet spot in Trinity Church Cemetery, not far from 

 the home where Audubon spent his last years, the remains 

 of the naturalist were laid with all honor and respect, on 

 the Thursday following his death. Time brought changes 

 which demanded the removal of the first burial-place, and 

 a second one was chosen in the same cemetery, which is 

 now marked by the beautiful monument erected by the 

 New York Academy of Sciences. 1 



Now wife and sons have joined him ; together they rest 

 undisturbed by winter storms or summer heat ; the river 

 they loved so well flows past their silent home as in 

 days long gone when its beauties won their hearts. 



Truly the place where they dwelt shall know them no 

 more, but " while the melody of the mocking-bird is heard 

 in the cypress forests of Louisiana, and the squirrel leaps 

 from its leafy curtain like a thing of beauty, the name of 

 Audubon will live in the hearts of coming generations." 



1 Unveiled April 26, 1893, on which occasion eulogies were pronounced by 

 Mr. D. G. Elliot, ex-president of the American Ornithologists' Union, and 

 Prof. Thomas Egleston of Columbia College. 



