Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1841-1853, 1851-05-08
HIS EARLY TASTES.

We do not propose to write the biography of Mr..
Audubon. Hehas prepared an autobiography, which
will soon be published, now that he IS dead. we
wish only to present phases OF his singular and
estimable character, as nearly can, in his own
words. Fortunately he was of communicative dis
position, and we shall not be compelled to wander
far for our materials. Those delightful interludeS
of description and adventure woven into the wool of
his equally delightful sketches of Birds are full Of
suggestions for US. Be that as it may, we are GER
tain that great deal of what shall say and ex-
tract will be new to the multitude Of ordinary read
Mr.. Audubon was born about IT'S, in the State of
Louisiana, not Pennsylvania, as has beenmany times
stated His parents, who were French, of that
happy nature which disposed them to encourage the
early indications of talent in the minds of their chill
dren. They soon perceived in the subject of these
remarks that love of the woods and fields, which has
since made him conspicuous as a naturalist among
men.
''When had hardly learned to walk, - says he, in
the preface to the first volume of bis Ofnithology,
and to articuate those first words always endear-
ing to parents, the productions of nature that lay
spread all around constantly pointed out to
They soon became my playmates; and before my
ideas sufficiently formed to enable me to esi-
mate the difference between the azure tntS OF the
sky and the emerald hue of the bright foliage, felt
that intimacy with them, not consisting of friend
ship merely, but bordering on frenzy, must accom-
pany my steps through life: and now, more than
ever am persuaded of the power of those early i'm
pressions. They laid such hold of me- that when
removed from the woods the prairies and the brooks
or shut up from the view of the wide Atlantic ex-
perienced of those pleasures most congenIal TO
my mind. None but aerial companions suited my
fancy. No roof seemed so secure to that
formed of the dense foliage under which the feather
ed tribe to resort the caves and assures
of the mossy rocks TO which the dark-winge6 cor
morant and the curlew retired TO rest to protect
themselves from the fury of the tempest. My father
generally accompanied my steps; procured birds and
flowers for me with great eagerness pointed out the
elegant movements of the former-the beauty and
sofness Of their plumage manifestations of their
pleasure sense of danger-and the always perfect
forms and splendid attire of the latter My valued
preceptor would then speak Of the departure and
turn Of birds with the seasons; would describe their
haunts, and more wonderful than all, their change of
livery; thus exciting to study them, and to raise
my mind towards their great Creator. vivid pleas
shone upon those days of my early youth, attend
ed with calmness of feeling that seldom failed TO
rivet my attention for hours, while gazed in costa
cy upon the peary and shining eggs, they lay en-
bedded in the soft nest of down, among dried
leaves and twiggs, or were exposed upon the burn
ing sand, or weather beaten rock of our Atlantic
shore. / was taught to look upon them flow ers
yet in the bud watched their opening TO see how
nature had provided each different species with eyes,
either open at BIRTH or closed for some time after to
trace the slow progress of the young birds towards
perfection. or admire the celebrity with which some
Of them, while vet unfedged, removed themselves
from danger to security
Nor did the taste thus early implanted in the mind
THE sounding cataract
Haunted him. passion; tall rock
The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood,
Their eolors and their forms. then to him
An appetite; feeling love
That had need Of remoer chsrn,
By thoughts supplied. or any interest
UH5Onowed from the eye"
81 grew up he continues, ssand my wishes grew
with my form. These wishes were for the entire pos
session Of all that frequently DESTROYS of
becoming acquainted with nature. For many years,
however, / sadly disappointed, and for ever,
doubtless must have desires that cannot be gratifi
ed. The moment bird was dead, no matter how
beautiful Il had been when in life. the pleasure ari
sing from the possession of it became bIunied and
although the greatest care was bestowed in endeay-
ors TO preserve the appearance Of nature; / looked
upon Its vesture more than sullied, requiring
constant attentions and repeated mendings, while,
alter ALL II could longer be said to be fresh from
the hands of Its Maker wished TO possess all the
productions Of nature but wished life with them
This was impossible. Then, what was to be done!
] turned 10 my father, and made known to him my
disappointment and anxiety He produced a book
OF Illustrations. A new life ran in my veins.
turned over the leaves with avidity, and although
what saw was not what longed for, il gave me
desire to copy nature. To nature went, and tried
to initiate her, as in the days Of my childhood tried
TO raise my self from the ground and stand erect, be-
fore time had impaired the vigor necessary for the
success of such an undertaking. How sorely dsap-
pointed did feel for many years, when saw that
nv productions were worse than those which ven
tured (perhaps in silence) TO regard as bad in the
book given me by my father. My pencil gave birth
to a family Of crpPles. So MANNED most Of
them, that they restmbled the mangled corpses on
field Of battle, compared with the integrity of living
men. These difficulties and disappointments irrita-
ted me, but never for moment destroyed the desire
Of obtaining perfect representations Of nature. The
worse my drawings were, the more beautiful did