of his youth, when he was discovered in a modest retirement in London,
by a friend of mine, and given to me. He had from the first, as Sir Hugh
Evans says of Anne Page, 'good gifts', which he improved by study and
attention in a most exemplary manner. He slept in a stable--generally
on horseback--and so terrified a Newfoundland dog by his preternatural
sagacity, that he has been known, by the mere superiority of his genius,
to walk off unmolested with the dog's dinner, from before his face. He
was rapidly rising in acquirements and virtues, when, in an evil hour,
his stable was newly painted. He observed the workmen closely, saw that
they were careful of the paint, and immediately burned to possess it. On
their going to dinner, he ate up all they had left behind, consisting of
a pound or two of white lead; and this youthful indiscretion terminated
in death.

While I was yet inconsolable for his loss, another friend of mine
in Yorkshire discovered an older and more gifted raven at a village
public-house, which he prevailed upon the landlord to part with for a
consideration, and sent up to me. The first act of this Sage, was, to
administer to the effects of his predecessor, by disinterring all the
cheese and halfpence he had buried in the garden--a work of immense
labour and research, to which he devoted all the energies of his mind.
When he had achieved this task, he applied himself to the acquisition
of stable language, in which he soon became such an adept, that he would
perch outside my window and drive imaginary horses with great skill,
all day. Perhaps even I never saw him at his best, for his former master
sent his duty with him, 'and if I wished the bird to come out very
strong, would I be so good as to show him a drunken man'--which I never
did, having (unfortunately) none but sober people at hand.

But I could hardly have respected him more, whatever the stimulating