58 MEMOIR OP THOMAS BEWICK. 
during which interval a gentleman narrated the 
following little anecdote, which, I find, my venerable 
friend’s modesty has omitted in his own Memoir. 
The Duke of Northumberland, when first he called 
to see Mr. Bewick’s workshops, was not personally 
known to my friend ; yet he showed him his birds, 
blocks, and drawings, as he did to all, with the 
greatest liberality and cheerfulness ; but, on disco- 
vering the high rank of his visitor, exclaimed, ‘ I 
beg pardon, my Lord, I did not know your Grace, 
and was unaware I had the honour of talking to 
so great a man.’ To which the duke good-humour- 
edly replied, ‘ You are a much greater man than 
I am, Mr. Bewick.’ To which my friend, with his 
ready wit that never failed or offended, resumed, 
No, my Lord ; but were I Duke of Northumber- 
land perhaps I could be.’ 
“ A life of Bewick, without a word on his num- 
berless and enrapturing vignettes, would be the 
story of Aladdin without his lamp. He is the very 
Autolycus of tail-pieces, which he flings out faster 
and more profusely, in ribands of all ramifications, 
than a fire-eater at a fair ; ay, ‘ he utters them as 
if he had eaten ballads, and all men’s ears grew r to 
his tunes.’ Do, reader, whatever be thy tempera- 
ment, open any one of his books, and thou wilt 
touch a key accordant. Look at the boy-soldiers 
riding on gravestones, with rush-caps and swords 
of seg : the two hindermost blackguard ragamuffins, 
tattered and bare-legged ; the next a great awkward 
booby, son of some scoundrel attorney; and the 
