manners gentle and affectionate; their flight both rapid and graceful; and,
in all times and nations, they have been emblems of peace, love, and
fidelity. They have moreover, many qualities and habits exclusively
peculiar to their tribe; they drink differently (by immersion), and have
no gall." The "peace, fidelity, and love" of the Dove have, however, been
much questioned by naturalists.

Every one will admire the simplicity of mind and heart in the following
opinions of Bewick, in his chat with Mr. Dovaston. Paradise, he said, was
of every man's own making; all evil caused by the abuse of free-will;
happiness equally distributed, and in every one's reach. "Oh!" said he,
"this is a bonny world as God made it; but man makes a packhorse of
Providence." He held that innumerable things might be converted to our use
that we ignorantly neglect, and quoted with great ardour, the whole of
Friar Lawrence's speech in Romeo and Juliet to that effect. Again, Mr.
Dovaston says, "Every body loved Bewick; all animals love him; and
frequently of mornings I found him in the inn-yard, among the dogs, ducks,
or pigs, throwing them pieces of biscuit, and talking to them, or to the
boors, beside them, waiters, _chay_-boys, or boots." "Frequently,"
observes Mr. D., "as I walked with him along the streets of Newcastle, it
was gratifying to witness how much and how generally his character and
talents were respected." Of all esteem there is none more gratifying than
that shown to a good man in his native place.

Bewick's powers of whistling appear to have been extraordinary. "His ear,"
says the agreeable reminiscent already quoted, "(as a musical feeling is
called) was so delicately acute, and his inflexorical powers so nice and
rapid, that he could run in any direction or modulation, the diatomic or
chromatic scale, and even split the quarter-notes of the enharmonic;
neither of which, however, did he understand scientifically, though so