100 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS. 



originals. To have been torn from the study would have 

 been as death to me. My time was entirely occupied with 

 it. I produced hundreds of these rude sketches annually ; 

 and for a long time, at my request, they made bonfires on 

 the anniversaries of my birth-day. , 



Patiently, and with industry, did I apply myself to study, 

 for, although I felt the impossibility of giving life to my pro- 

 ductions, I did not abandon the idea of representing nature. 

 Many plans were successively adopted, many masters guided 

 my hand. At the age of seventeen, when I returned from 

 France, whither I had gone to receive the rudiments of my 

 education, my drawings had assumed a form. David had 

 guided my hand in tracing objects of large size. Eyes and 

 noses belonging to giants, and heads of horses represented in 

 ancient sculpture, were my models. These, although fit sub- 

 jects for men intent on pursuing the higher branches of the 

 art, were immediately laid aside by me. I returned to the 

 woods of the New World with fresh ardor, and commenced a 

 collection of drawings, which I henceforth continued, and 

 which is now publishing under the title of " The Birds of 

 America." 



In Pennsylvania, a beautiful State, almost central on the 

 line of our Atlantic shores, my father, in his desire of proving 

 my friend through life, gave me what Americans call a beau- 

 tiful ' plantation,' refreshed during the summer heats by the 

 waters of the Schuylkill river, and traversed by a creek 

 named Perkioming. Its fine woodlands, its extensive fields, 

 its hills crowned with evergreens, offered many subjects to 

 my pencil. It was there that I commenced my simple and 

 agreeable studies, with as little concern about the future as 

 if the world had been made for me. My rambles invariably 

 commenced at break of day ; and to return wet with dew, and 

 bearing a feathered prize, was, and ever will be, the highest 

 enjoyment for which I have been fitted. 



Yet, think not, reader, that the enthusiasm which I felt for 



