MEMOIR OF THOMAS BEWICK. 71 
“ I had never parted from him without our reci- 
procally thinking it would be the last ; hut this time 
we both thought otherwise, for his health was 
very much ameliorated. Black Monday at length 
came; and though the sun shone broad on every 
thing around, they walked slowly, and methought 
strangely silent, with me (I leading Rosalind, heavy 
as a nightmare), about two miles on the road, 
where, after saluting the young ladies, and shaking 
the good old Bewick’s hand, though I hope to enjoy 
their friendship yet many years, it was on that 
mountain side that with him I parted for ever ; and 
looking back, till the road turned the comer of a 
rock, dimly saw them kindly gazing after me : and 
this was the last time I ever beheld the portly per- 
son of my benevolent and beloved friend. We 
continued, however, to correspond frequently ; not 
only on natural history, but (as the Irish scholar 
said) ‘ de omnibus rebus, et quibusdam aliis,' on the 
manners of both feathered and unfeathered bipeds. 
The next summer, he visited London about his 
works ; and thence he wrote me several very hu- 
morous letters on the utterly artificial life of the 
cockneys; with the mass of whom, since he was 
among them half a century before, he thought the 
march of intellect had not equalled the march of 
impudence. He was, however, very honourably re- 
ceived by many learned societies and individuals, of 
whom, and of whose collections, he wrote in rap- 
tures. On his return, the London and provincial 
papers had many paragraphs respecting this visit, 
