WM. THOMPSON, ESQ. 
XXIX 
Shelley, Moore, Wordsworth, Montgomery, and Tennyson, were all in 
turn admired, and the peculiar beauties of each justly appreciated. 
His delight in the Fine Arts has already been noticed, and also his 
enjoyment of the beautiful or the sublime in natural scenery. To travel 
with him was to see things in a new aspect, and to derive pleasure from 
what would, but for him, have been unnoticed. The distant trees became 
individualized under his glance, and their characteristic foliage made 
manifest. The flight and peculiar note of every bird were known, so that, 
if either the flap of a pinion was observed, or a remote call was heard, 
the species -was at once named. The tintings of the hills were pointed 
out, and the beam of sunlight on the heath or the mountain dwelt on 
with the delight of an artist. 
It perhaps belongs to the inherent infirmity of man’s nature that the 
very faculties which, from their nicety, are the source of such refined and 
elevated pleasures, should also, under other circumstances, give rise to 
discomfort or annoyance. Such was Mr. Thompson’s case. He felt an- 
noyed by matters which other men would have passed by unheeded. 
Discords of colour pained his eye, as discordant sounds would have grated 
on his ear. 
His methodical and business-like habits rendered him a valuable mem- 
ber of any public committee. The same regularity was apparent in all 
his actions, joined with a constant attention to neatness, and a desire to 
have nothing wasted or uselessly frittered away. He never obtruded his 
opinions ; and no man could be more unwilling to give utterance to a re- 
mark that might give pain to another. But when one of those with 
whom he was really intimate sought his advice, it was given with the 
utmost candour. He had the rare moral courage to speak not only the 
truth, but the whole truth, as it appeared to his mind. The sincerity 
with which he expressed himself on such occasions gave great weight to 
the sound and excellent opinion which he pronounced. One instance of 
this may here be mentioned. A friend had been preparing a little Natu- 
ral History work for publication. The volume was completed, and its 
author had taken some pains in writing an elaborate preface, explanatory 
of his views. This was sent to Mr. Thompson for revision, and was re- 
turned with some pencil-marks and a brief note : — “ I never saw any- 
thing of your writing I liked so little.” The consequence was that the 
unfortunate preface was put into the fire, and one shorter and better 
suited to the character of the work was substituted. 
His thoughtful consideration was shown in many little touching ways 
towards those whom he numbered among his friends. The “ trivial fond 
records ” that might be furnished from such sources would show the ge- 
nuine kindness of his nature, even better than things of greater moment. 
They spring from actions the most unstudied and spontaneous ; they ori- 
ginate in the heart rather than in the head. Who -would suppose that 
such a man, in order to give pleasure to the children of a friend, would 
carefully lay aside each little illustration that catalogues or specimen- 
pages might contain, and then, from time to time, as the envelope in which 
they were deposited became filled, send them to his friend’s residence ? 
Yet such was the simple fact. 
Mr. Thompson died unmarried, in his forty-seventh year, and was in- 
terred in the family burial-ground at Belfast. The members of the Na- 
tural History and Philosophical Society, over which he so long presided, 
determined on erecting a memorial, the nature of which is best explained 
by some extracts from the circular which was then issued : — 
