MEMOIR OF THOMAS BEWICK. 53 
depict. I succeeded by mentioning an error in one 
of his works ; for which, when I had convinced 
him, he thanked me, and took the path in conver- 
sation iv e wished. In many instances, I must re- 
mark, though frequently succeeding to the broadest 
humour, his countenance and conversation assumed 
and emitted flashes and features of absolutely the 
highest sublimity ; indeed, to an excitement of 
awful amazement, particularly when speaking on 
the works of the Deity. 
“ Thus happily situated, I paid little attention to 
the iron tongue of the neighbouring steeple of St. 
Nicholas, whether he told the long and loud ‘ hour 
o' night’s black arch the keystane,’ or the wee bit 
ane ayont it. The fine old fellow, this jolly old 
Cock o’ the North, as I facetiously called him, 
would persist in seeing us to our hotel, where we 
renewed our libations even to “ sangs and clatter." 
Very early in the morning he kindly came again 
with his great cudgel to our chambers ; and removed 
us to his neat and hospitable residence amid the 
fields and gardens above Gateshead, on the opposite 
bank of the Tyne. Here we brokefast with his 
family, consisting then of his good old dame (who 
died February 1, 1826, aged seventy-two), one son, 
and three daughters. He now conducted us amid 
the curiosities of Newcastle, public buildings, pic- 
tures, and libraries ; and, what is more to my 
present sketch, his own workshops. Here we saw 
his manner of producing his beautiful art ; and his 
nests of almost numberless drawers, each filled with 
