The southern press. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1850-1852, 1851-02-03

And in one sequence Of melodious sound,
Pourst their music II ouihsy's JMadoe in .1stla''
|. lNTRoDUcrIoN.
! A few years ago, there arrived at the hotel,
erected near Niagara Falls, an odd looxing man,
whose appearance was quite III contrast win that
Of the crowds of we'll dressed and polished figures
which adorned that celebrated resort lie seemed
Just TO have sprung from the woods. His d, ess,
which was made Of leather, stood dreadiu'ly IN
need Of repair apparently not having felt the touch
of either laundress or needle-woman for many Il
| long month. worn out blanket, that might
have served for u bed, was buckledto his shout
ders; a large knife hung on one side, bal
unced by rusty lin box on the other and his
beard ,uncropped, tangled and coarse, fell down up
on his bosom, as il to counerpose the weight or
black hair locks, that supported themselves upon
his back and shoulders. This strange being to
the spectators seemingly haf-cyzed and half
savage, had Il quick CHANGING eye, an elastic firm
movement, and sharp face, that seemed able TO
cut its way through the cane brakes, both OF 30
;iety aud Of the WILDERNESS.
He pushed his steps into the sitting room, un-
strapped his little burden, quietly looked round
for the landlord, and then modeslly asked Tor
breakfast. The host at first drew back wiz evil
dent re, ugnance at the appuriton which thuSpro-
posed to intrude it's uncouth form among the gen
teel visiters, but word whispered IN his ear
speedily satisfied his doubts. The stranger took
his seat among the companyi some staring, some
Struggling, and some even ughing outright. Yet
it has turned out, that there was more III that SIM
gle man than in all the rest Of the throng he call
ed himself an American woodsman he was
true genuine son of nature, yet one who had been
entertained with distinction at the tables Of pm
ces; learned societies. to which the like of Culver
belonged, had been proud to welcome his en-
trance; in short, he was one whose fame has been
| growicg brighter, while the fashionables who
laughed at him, and many much greater than they
have utterly persisted. From every hilltop, and
| every deep shady grove, the birds, those "liyng
blossoms Of the air. will sing his name. The
little wren will pipe it with her n,atin hymn about
our houses the orioe carol 1t from the slender
grasses Of the meadows; the turtle dove roll il
through the secret forests; the many voiced mock
ing bird pour along the evening air; and the i'm
perial, the bird OF Washington, as he sits in his
craggy home, far up the blue mountains, will
scream it to the tempests and the stars. He was
John James Audubon, the Ornithologst.
III. His EARLY TASTES.
We do not propose TO write the biography of
MIR. Audubon. He has prepared an autobIogra-
ply, which will soon be published, now that he
is dead We wish only to present some phases
of his singular and estimable character, as nearly
as we can in his own word Fortunately, he is
Of communicative disposition, and we shall not
he compelled to wander far for our materials.
Those delightful interudea of description and adj
venture, woven into the wool of his equally de-
for Be that as it may. we are Ger ain that a
great deal Of what We shall say and extract will
be new to the multitude Of ordinary readers.
Mr.. Audubon was born about IT'S, in the State
of Louisiana, not Pennsylvania, as has been many
times stated. His parents, who were French,
were of that happy nature which disposed them
to encourage the early Indications oftalent in the
minds OF their children. They soon perceived in
the subject Of these remarks that love of the
woods and fields, which has since made him
conspicuous a naturalls among men. "When
| | had hardly learned to walk, I" says he, in the
preface to the first volume Of his Ornthoogy,
sand to artlcuate those first words always en-
dearing to parents the productions Of nature that
lay spread all around, were constantly pointed
out to me. They soon became my plnymates: and
before my ideas were sufficiently formed to enable
me to estimate the difference between the azure
tints Of the sky and the emerald hue Of The bright
foliage, felt that an intimacy with them, not con.
sistng of friendship merely, but bordering on
phrensy, must accompany my steps through life
and now, more than ever, am persuaded Of the
power of those early impressions. They laid
such hold of me, that when removed from The
woods, the prairies, and the brooks, or shut ur
from the view ofthe wide Atlantic, experienced
none of those pleasures most congenial to my
mind. None but aerial companions suited my
fancy. No Ssof seemed secure 10 me that
formed Of Thu cense foliage under which the fcalh
cred tribe were seen to resort, or the caves and
assures Of the MASSEY rocks, TO which the dark
winged cormorant and the curew retired to rest,
or to protect themselves from the fury of the tenn
pest. My father generally accompanied my steps
procured birds and flowers for me with great ca
gerness; pointed out the elegant movements the
former-the beauty and sotiness Of their plumage
the manifestations Of their pleasure or then
sense Of danger-and the always perfect forms
and splendid attire of the latter. My valued pre-
ceptor would then speak OF the departure and re-
turn of birds with the seasons; would describe
their haunts, and, more wonderful than all, then
change Of livery; thus exciting me to study them
and to raise my mind towards their great Creator
A vivid pleasure shone upon those days of my
early youth attended with camness of feeling
that se dom failed to rvet my attention for hours
while | gazed in ccstacy upon the. pearly and
shining eggs, as they lay embedded in the softes,
down, or among dried leaves and twigs, or were
exposed upon the burning sand or wealherbeaten
rock Of our Atlantic shore. was taught to look
upon them flowers yet in the bud. | watched
| their opening to see how nature had provided
each different species with eyes, either opened at
birth, or closed for time after; to trace the
slow progress of the young birds towards perfec-
| ton, admire the CELEBRITY with which some of
them, while yet unhedged, removed themselves
| from danger to security"
| Nor did the taste thus early implanted in the
mind Of the young enthusiast desert him in ma
tire years
Haunted him, like passion; the tall rock,
The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood
| Their coors and their forms, were then to him
An appetite; feeling and love
That had no need Of remoter charm
I BY thought supplied, or any interest
| Unborrowed from the eye"
81 grew up" he continues, "and my wishes
grew with my form. These wishes were for the
entire possession of all that | saw. was fire.
quently DESTROYS Of becoming acquainted with ma
ture. For many years, however, was sadly dis
appointed. and for ever, doubtless, must I have
desires that cannot be gratIfed. The moment n
bird dend no matter how beautiful it had
been when in life, the pleasure arising from the
| possession Of it became blubted; and although the
greatest care bestowed in endeavors to pre-
servesthe appearance OF nature, looked upon it's
| vesiure more than sullied as requiring consan,
attentions and repeated mendings, while, after all
it could no 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 bs
dones turned to my father, and made known
| IN him dtsapuOntmept and apYiety H. nr,