that I might _purchase duplicates, provided_ the specific names agreed upon by Mr. Nuttall and myself were published in Dr. Townsend's name. This latter part of the affair was perfectly agreeable to my feelings, as I have seldom cared much about priority in the naming of species. I therefore paid for the skins which I received, and have now published such as proved to be new, according to my promise. But, let me assure you, Reader, that seldom, if ever in my life, have I felt more disgusted with the conduct of any opponents of mine, than I was with the unfriendly boasters of their zeal for the advancement of ornithological science, who at that time existed in the fair city of Philadelphia. While still in Philadelphia, on October 23, Audubon wrote to Thomas Brewer that Dr. Morton, the corresponding secretary of the Academy, had not only permitted him to portray the new birds but had sold him "ninety odd of the skins, forming a portion of the collection," and added that with his other acquisitions they would swell his "catalogue to the number of 475, all of which must be introduced in my fourth volume." For many years Audubon had expressed great contempt for all seekers after priority in the naming of new species of animals, but now he began to find the pressure from without too strong to be resisted. Rivalry in this field had become keen on both sides of the Atlantic, and in the commendable desire to render his work as complete as possible, he was inevitably drawn into a struggle in which the higher aspirations of scientific men are all too apt to be obscured by petty vanities, suspicions and disputes. While at Philadelphia Audubon paid this fine tribute to the ornithologist whom he had met at Louisville twenty-six years before, and whose name had long been a cover for the jealousies and animosities of supposititious friends: "Passed poor Alexander Wilson's schoolhouse, and heaved a sigh. Alas, poor Wilson! Would that I could once more speak to thee, and listen to thy voice!"