He had gained much by his trials. He had learned what most of us take a life-time to learn, patience; not to speak harshly when others are harsh. He said, "To repay evils with kindness is the religion I was taught to practice, and this will forever be my rule." He had learned that much in life is trivial, that most things are "not matters of life and death;" little worries come to all, and can be borne--the momentous things of life are really few.
April 26, 1826, Audubon sailed for England. Arriving at Liverpool, he was able to arrange for the display of his drawings at the Liverpool Exhibition. The entrance fee was one shilling, and the receipts were from fifteen to twenty dollars a day. Surely fame was coming at last. Lord Stanley spent five hours in examining the collection, and said, "This work is unique, and deserves the patronage of the Crown." He invited Audubon to visit him at his town house in Grosvenor Square. The naturalist made portraits of various friends who were desirous of obtaining specimens of his drawing. From the exhibition of his pictures in Liverpool he realized five hundred dollars.
From this city he went to Manchester, and from thence to Edinburgh. Here he met the naturalist Professor Jameson, who promised to introduce his book to the public in his "Natural History Magazine." Professor Wilson (Christopher North) volunteered to introduce Audubon to Sir Walter Scott. Audubon was asked to sit for his portrait. The Royal Institution offered their rooms for the exhibition of his drawings, and the receipts were from twenty-five to seventy-five dollars a day.
Truly things had changed, since those desolate days in America, when he slept on the deck of a steamboat, because unable to pay for a bed, and could not summon the courage to ask the loan of fifteen dollars.
Invited to dine with the Antiquarian Society, he met Lord Elgin, who presided, and was obliged to respond to a flattering toast, which made him "feel very faint and chill. I was expected to make a speech," he says, "but could not, and never had tried. Being called on for a reply, I said, 'Gentlemen, my incapacity for words to respond to your flattering notice is hardly exceeded by that of the birds now hanging on the walls of your institution. I am truly obliged to you for your favors, and can only say, God bless you all, and may your society prosper.' I sat down with the perspiration running over me."