Having, from the time that I was a school-boy, been displeased with most of the figures in children’s books, and particularly with those of the “Three Hundred Animals,” the figures in which, even at that time, I thought I could depicture much better; and having afterwards very often turned the matter over in my mind, of making improvements in that publication—I at last came to the determination of making the attempt. The extreme interest I had always felt in the hope of administering to the pleasure and amusement of youth, and judging from the feelings I had experienced myself that they would be affected in the same way as I had been, whetted me up and stimulated me to proceed. In this, my only reward besides was the great pleasure I felt in imitating nature. That I should ever do anything to attract the notice of the world, in the manner that has been done, was the farthest thing in my thoughts, and so far as I was concerned myself at that time, I minded little about any self-interested considerations. These intentions I communicated to my partner; and, though he did not doubt of my being able to succeed, yet, being a cautious and thinking man, he wished to be more satisfied as to the probability of such a publication paying for the labour. On this occasion, being little acquainted with the nature of such undertakings, we consulted Mr. Solomon Hodgson, bookseller and editor of the “Newcastle Chronicle,” as to the probability of its success, &c., when he warmly encouraged us to proceed. Such animals as I knew, I drew from memory on the wood; others which I did not know were copied from “Dr. Smellie’s Abridgement of Buffon,” and other naturalists, and also from the animals which were from time to time exhibited in itinerant collections. Of these last, I made sketches first from memory, and then corrected and finished the drawings upon the wood from a second examination of the different animals. I began this business of cutting the blocks with the figure of the dromedary, on the 15th November, 1785, the day on which my father died. I then proceeded in copying such figures as above named as I did not hope to see alive. While I was busied in drawing and cutting the figures of animals, and also in designing and engraving the vignettes, Mr. Beilby, being of a bookish or reading turn, proposed, in his evenings at home, to write or compile the descriptions. With this I had little more to do than furnishing him, in many conversations and by written memoranda, with what I knew of animals, and blotting out, in his manuscript, what was not truth. In this way we proceeded till the book was published in 1790.
The greater part of these wood cuts were drawn and engraved at night, after the day’s work of the shop was over. In these evenings, I frequently had the company of my friend the Rev. Richard Oliphant,[25] who took great pleasure in seeing me work, and who occasionally read to me the sermons he had composed for the next Sunday. I was also often attended, from a similar curiosity, by my friend, the Rev. Thomas Hornby,[26] lecturer at St. John’s Church. He would not, like my friend Oliphant, adjourn to a public house, and join in a tankard of ale, but he had it sent for to my workplace. We frequently disagreed in our opinions as to religious matters, he being, as I thought, an intolerant, high churchman; but, notwithstanding this, he was a warm well-wisher and kind friend, and was besides of so charitable a disposition that his purse was ever open to relieve distress, and he would occasionally commission me to dispose of a guinea anonymously to persons in want.
As soon as the “History of Quadrupeds” appeared, I was surprised to find how rapidly it sold. Several other editions quickly followed, and a glut of praises was bestowed upon the book. These praises however, excited envy, and were visibly followed by the balance of an opposite feeling from many people at home; for they raked together, and blew up, the embers of envy into a transient blaze; but the motives by which I was actuated stood out of the reach of its sparks, and they returned into the heap whence they came, and fell into dust. I was much more afraid to meet the praises which were gathering around than I was of the sneers which they excited; and a piece of poetry appearing in the newspaper, I was obliged, for some time, to shun “Swarley’s Club,” of which the writer, George Byles,[27] was a member, to avoid the warm and sincere compliments that awaited me there.
I had long made up my mind not to marry whilst my father and mother lived, in order that my undivided attention might be bestowed upon them. My mother had, indeed, recommended a young person in the neighbourhood to me as a wife. She did not know the young lady intimately, but she knew she was modest in her deportment, handsome in her person, and had a good fortune; and, in compliance with this recommendation, I got acquainted with her, but was careful not to proceed further, and soon discovered that, though her character was innocence itself, she was mentally one of the weakest of her sex. The smirking lasses of Tyneside had long thrown out their jibes against me, as being a woman-hater, but in this they were greatly mistaken. I had, certainly, been very guarded in my conduct towards them, as I held it extremely wrong and cruel to sport with the feelings of any one. In this, which was one of my resolves, sincerity and truth were my guides. As I ever considered a matrimonial connection as a business of the utmost importance, and which was to last till death made the separation, while looking about for a partner for life, my anxious attention was directed to the subject. I had long considered it to be the duty of every man, on changing his life, to get a healthy woman for his wife, for the sake of his children, and a sensible one, as a companion, for his own happiness and comfort,—that love is the natural guide in this business, and much misery is its attendant when that is wanting. This being the fixed state of my mind, I permitted no mercenary considerations to interfere. Impressed with these sentiments, I had long, my dear Jane, looked upon your ............