AUDUBON AND WILBON. 117 
the world to ease its conscience of prosent injustice and 
neglect of genius, by an internal reservation, that it will pile 
up posthumous honors mountain high. 
Now it is surely to be apprehended that this genius, though 
“of so airy and light a quality,” has yet something to seek 
“of the earth, earthy,” in common with the rest of men— 
and that, therefore, the recognizing, with its own proper eyes, 
the just claims of an original mind, by the country to which 
it has added lustre, cannot be to ‘it a matter of indifference. 
Audubon has nothing of glory to ask of us. But this his 
memory demands, that we, his countrymen, should guard his 
honors from even the shadow of infringement. We drove him 
to the embrace of a foreign land for patronage—but there, 
amidst all the pomp of courts and the intoxication of sudden 
success, he was still proudly the American Woodsman; no- 
thing could damp that noble pride, and through every page 
he has written, we can still see it looking out with the same 
calm, abiding affection. We should not, then, be the last to 
vindicate such valorous faith. The man of his age, the illus- 
trious Frenchman, has led the way in defining his supremacy, 
and yet the American mind, since Professor Wilson pro- 
nounced his autocratic fiat, that they “were equals,” has 
been timid to say in plain words—No! our Audubon is regally 
the head and front of Illustrative Science; the dictum of 
Christopher to the contrary notwithstanding, he is in this 
the Ornithologist of the world, and the favorite Wilson must 
be content to stand below him. 
But hear this same cannie Scot, Christopher North, dis 
eourse of Audubon en dishabille, with the straight-jacket of 
nationality thrown aside, and verily in his dressing gown and 
slippers, when it is man to man that speaks as the heart 
meoveth, not Scot to Scot! Thus, in the Moctes he discourseth, 
sotto voce. 
We were sitting one night, lately, all alone by ourselves, 
almost unconsciously eyeing the members, fire without flame, 
