1 A A 6 K /At JW : ! Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2018 with funding from University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill https://archive.org/details/favoritesongbirdOOadam Slates •Jv-? ip# mM Spt NICHTINCAtF ’" II throne, stoops A oVi " s * '■ouq.sUT of thf o' 90 ^ ' -■ • V T * V , V '■ <•'•• v . '%3SR - V0-\.. • N-'V: ■ • *v rv ■ ^MT fi . w*sr THE BULLFINCH The piping Bullfinch, musical and gay, TV. L ) r ° ] ._T-VI --3 -T,,T1 It,,o1,o I ll \. Ul pi I lg U tAJium V-»», *»»«!»» •--—* •*» • V Q»^J 1 Docile, and teachable, and full crl tricks, \K, Builds, where the hawthorn blossoms scent the wav, \* - W 1" Iks shallow nest of loosely-woven sticks. MS- ' i'k. : ‘ —*i£i.-----• ’ ' 65 THE BULLFINCH. Loxia Phrrhula, Linnceus. Phrrhula Vulgaris, Temminck. Phrrhula Pil- eata, Macgillivray. pe Bouvreuil, Buffon. Der Gimpel, Bechstein. Better I love thy wood-notes wild to hear Than all the melodies that art can teach; Those untaught strains, so simple, soft, and clear, Seem ever near akin to human speech ; And greater power have they the heart to reach. To please, to sooth, to animate, and cheer ; Sweet lessons of content, and hope to preach, And waken holy thoughts, and memories dear: Still in thy woodland covert, then, sweet bird! Utter thy low sweet call-note to thy mate; Ne’er by the spoiler be the green boughs stirred, Which shelter thee in thy most happy state; Ever may thine be liberty and love; A green world all around, and azure skies above. II. G. Adams. ■ JE liave some doubts and misgivings on the | score of our last chapter—whether our readers ' J might not have thought that we were a little too flighty and imaginative therein ; too much in the clouds, and not sufficiently upon earth, for such staid and matter-of-fact people as form the great majority of this workday world. If such a charge should he brought against us, we plead guilty thereto, and rest our defence upon the nature of the subject, and upon the bewilderment of mind and senses caused by those plaguey poets, who, as soon as we began to mention the Skylark, poured out such a flood of “melodious madness,” that we could not help being borne away and infected by it, to a far greater extent than we are E 66 FAYORITE SONG BIRDS. likely to be in this, or in any future chapter of our little work. The songs which we shall have to quote on the Bull¬ finch are few, and of a much more sober character than those dedicated to the “ ethereal minstrel,” of whom we last wrote: there will be no difficulty of selection here, for Bully has not been a great favorite with the poets, although he has many amiable and attractive qualities ; and he is a sweet singer, too, but then his natural song is low and unobtrusive, and his manners in a wild state are extremely shy, so that he is not often seen, and he exemplifies the truth of the adage— “ Out of sight, out of mind.” Nevertheless, although so seldom seen in our country rambles, the Bullfinch, or as some naturalists call it, for an obvious reason, the Coalhood, is not by any means a rare bird, as according to Knapp and sundry other of his accusers, the gardeners well know, to their cost. Here is part of the evidence adduced against him : —• “ The bull-finch has no claims to our regard. It is gifted with no voice to charm us; it communicates no harmony to the grove : all we hear from it is a low and plaintive call to its fellows in the hedge. It has no familiarity or association with us, but lives in retirement in some lonely thicket ten months in the year. At length, as spring approaches, it will visit our gardens an insidious plunderer. Its delight is in the embryo blossoms wrapped up at this season in the bud of a tree ; and it is very dainty and curious in its choice of this food, seldom feeding upon two kinds at the same time. It generally commences with the germs of our larger and most early gooseberry ; and the bright red breasts of four or five cock birds, quietly feeding on the leafless bush, arc a very pretty sight, but the consequences arc ruinous to the crop. When the cherry buds begin THE BULLFINCH. G7 to come forward, they quit the gooseberry, and make tremendous havoc with these. I have an early wall cherry, a mayduke by re¬ putation, that has for years been a great favorite with the bull-finch family, and its celebrity seems to be communicated to each successive generation. It buds profusely, but is annually so stripped of its promise by these feathered rogues, that its kind might almost be doubted. The Orleans and green-gage plums next form a treat, and draw their attention from what remains of the cherry. Having banqueted here awhile, they leave our gardens entirely, resorting to the fields and hedges, where the sloe bush in April furnishes them with food. May brings other dainties, and the labours and business of incubation withdraw them from our observation.” This certainly is a very grave accusation, nor do we think that it can be altogether disproved. Bennie, it is true, was disposed to consider that insects inclosed in the bud, and not the bud itself, constituted the fa¬ vorite food of the bird, and that it only destroyed such as would have been useless, if suffered to remain on the bough. Dr. Torsten, we believe, positively asserts this, and Neville Wood, always ready to urge what¬ ever may be said in favor of his feathered clients, says— “ It is disputed by Ornithologists, whether or not the Hedge Coalhood is pernicious to the interests of the gardener, by destroy¬ ing the buds of the fruit trees. In the Ornithologist’s Text-book , p. 61 , I have expressed an opinion in favor of our lovely songster, and subsequent researches have only served to confirm that opinion. That the birds do devour a tolerably large portion of the buds of our fruit trees, there can be no doubt; but then it is most probable that only those buds which are infested with insects, are attacked; and if so, its services in the gardens must be incalculable. In con¬ finement it will cat any buds, but in its wild state, it will be ob¬ served that the vegetable portion is rejected, and the enclosed insect or grub is the desired object of their search. That such is the case, I have ascertained almost to a certainty, from finding that some 68 FAVORITE SONG BIRDS. trees are passed over without the slightest injury, while others arc not quitted as long as a bud remains; and others again undergo a selection. I have repeatedly observed it examining the buds with great care, and am convinced that it does not indiscriminately des¬ troy the produce of the trees. It has been remarked by some, that the finest trees are usually selected as the scene of its depredations. But this, if anything, is in favour of my argument, as the insects may reasonably he supposed to make their choice as well as the birds, and that the birds only attack such trees as are infested by these insect pests.” This testimony is also supported by the compiler of Bewick’s Natural History, and several other writers ; but in the latest supplement to Cuvier, in Mudie, in Bechstein, and other works of undoubted authority, there is evidence of so strong and condemnatory a nature that we are obliged to confess with a sigh of regret, that Bully is indeed a sad depredator, and that Bishop Mant has truly described him in the follow¬ ing lines : — “ Deep in the thorn’s entangled maze, Or where the fruit-tree’s thickening sprays Yield a secure and close retreat, The dusky Bullfinch plans her seat, There where you see the clustered boughs Put forth the opening bud, her spouse With mantle grey, and jet-like head, And flaming breast of crimson red, Is perched with hard and hawk-like beak, Intent the embryo fruit to seek, Nor ceases from his pleasing toil, The orchard's budding hope to spoil. Unless with quick and timid glance, Of his dark eye your dread advance lie notice, and your search evade, Hid in the thicket’s pathless shade.” Having admitted thus much, and confessed to a great extent the truth of the charges to which the THE BULLFINCH. 69 Bullfinch is obnoxious, let us, out of the regard which we have for that, and every other creature which minis¬ ters to man’s intellectual gratification, and beautifies this world of humanity, urge Neville Wood’s plea and say— u Even supposing that these birds were as baneful to our fruit trees as has been represented, I could not bear to make war upon them, but, on the contrary, would propose that every nobleman and gentleman should set apart some trees purposely for the birds, while the rest could easily be protected by the usual methods. That such a proposal would be scouted by all parties, I am well aware, though it is probable that by far the greater quantity of fruit that is pro¬ duced in the gardens of the nobility and gentry, is either wasted, or sold for the benefit of the sordid gardener. By this plan these beautiful and ornamental birds might be rendered perfectly tame and familiar, instead of, as at present, shy, secluded, and rarely seen. In these matters, however, it is always best to leave people to their own ways, especially as they are usually little willing to alter old customs and opinions. But, after what has been said, it must not be supposed that its chief food consists of buds. Indeed it is obvious that this can form but a small portion of its subsistence; during the summer and autumn it feeds on various kinds of seeds, and likewise on the leaves of the chickweed, groundsel, &c.” The Hooded Bullfinch, as this bird is called by Mac- gillivray, who places it in the order Deglubitrices , or Huskers ; the family Passerines, Passerine birds, or Sparrows ; and the genus Phrrhula, of which it is the only individual known to us, is very generally distri¬ buted over the whole of Britain ; frequenting most the wooded and cultivated districts, wdiere it seeks the shelter of the groves and thickets, and seldom comes forth except in search of food; various titles have been applied to it, such as Coal-hood, Tony-hoop, Alp, Pope, Nope, &c., most of them having reference to 70 FAVORITE SONG BIRDS. the peculiarity of its distinctly marked plumage, which renders it a bird easily recognised when seen, even by those who are little acquainted with the feathered songsters in their wild state, in which state, as Iynapp asserts, “It has no claims to our regard,” being “ gifted with no voice to charm,” and “ communi¬ cating no harmony to the grove.” But Bully is evi¬ dently no favorite with this naturalist, and we are in¬ clined to believe that he does it but scant justice. Wood affirms that its untaught strains are “ sweet, varied, and melodious,” but somewhat desultory, and so low and soft, that they generally escape observation. “ The common call-note of the bird,” he says, “ is a short, sweet, plaintive chirp, constantly uttered whilst on the perch.” It is thus alluded to by Thompson, “ The mellow Bullfinch answers from the grove.” Beciistein, too, we find, characterizes the wild notes of the bird as “ harsh and disagreeable; ” while _M vdie speaks of its “ softly modulated whistle. W ood appears to have observed it in its native woods more closely than either of these authorities, and to his evidence, therefore, we must attach the greatest weight. With all the enthusiasm of the professed ornithologist, he speaks of hunting the bird out in the recesses of the leafy wood, its home and hiding place, and of following up the interesting pursuit day after day, and week after week, led on by its plaintive call which it utters almost incessantly, and which furnishes the pursuer with a knowledge of its where¬ about. Tie gives a most interesting description of the old birds issuing forth, when all is quiet, from the thick bushes, and after casting fearful and furtive THE BULLFINCH. 71 glances around, to ascertain that no danger is present, in which adventure the female is generally the fore¬ most, calling up the young family to join them; these young birds are perhaps four or five in number, of a dull uniform brown colour; for it is not until they are seven or eight weeks old, that the rich glossy black of the head, and the other bright hues which distinguish the adult bird, are assumed. We must give another quotation from this pleasant author, who tells us that—- “ The manners of this species are not remarkably brisk and lively, nor even varied, but they are social and pleasing, and nothing can he more delightful than to follow them in their native haunts, and there become acquainted with their peculiar habits. In the distance, the sound of the male’s voice is soft and mellow; that of the female greatly resembles it, though they are readily distinguished by a practised ear. Whilst uttering this, a smart twitch of the tail may be observed, and when the female is on the nest, her mate frequently sits for hours together on a neigh¬ bouring branch, sounding his plaintive note, or amusing her with his curious whining song. Unless you see him singing, you miss the best part of the performance. But it is at all times difficult either to see or hear him—though I have achieved both —and there¬ fore you must he satisfied with what you can get. While singing, it puffs out its plumage, and makes strange contortions with its head. I have frequently watched this interesting manoeuvre; but no sooner does the bird find himself observed, than he shrinks to his ordinary size, alarms his mate, and with her flies to a distant tree, where they remain out of sight, but within hearing, waiting the event, and sounding their mellow note.” Why this bird was ever called a Finch, it is diffi¬ cult to imagine, as it differs greatly both in babits and appearance from all other birds of the Finch family. Mudie gives us a very spirited and life-like description of it in these words:— 72 FAVORITE SONG BIRDS. “In shape it is the most compact and neat, and expressive of energy and strength of all our little birds. The outline of its head and bill is as fine as that of the most handsome of the hawks; hut the bright black eye has a good deal of the prying expression of that of the magpie. The bill is, with the exception of that of the eagles and hawks, made stronger in proportion than the bill of any other British bird. The attitudes and motions of the bird, while picking buds or berries, are also very elegant; and it has a great command of itself on the perch.” By this naturalist, as by some others, the bird is called a Grross-beak, and with its congener the Pine Gross-beak (J?1irrJiulci Enucleator), sometimes, al¬ though but rarely, found in the pine forests of Scot¬ land, is said to constitute a genus quite distinct on the one hand from the Loxias , or Cross-bills ; and on the other from the Fringillas, or true Pinches, that is as far as British ornithology is concerned, for there are in America and various parts of the world several other birds which are admitted into the Gross-beak family, the main characteristics of which appear to be that the bill is smaller than that of the majority of the Pinches, thick in proportion to its length, dark in color, slightly hooked like that of the parrot; tarsi short, toes long, and claws adapted for perching on slender twigs ; wings short and rounded; tail full and strong. But so diverse and so arbitrary are the rules upon which various ornithologists have built up their widely differing systems, that it is difficult to say, with any degree of certainty, to which class or order a particular bird really does belong. Cuvier contra¬ dicts Linnaeus, and is himself objected to by other authors, who graft their amendments upon his system, and disarrange his arrangements, so that the neophyte the bullfinch:. ill natural history is fairly puzzled and bewildered. What appears to be wanted is some universally recog¬ nised principles of classification; and we take leave to suggest that the savans of Europe and America, who have studied this branch of physical science most intently, shall hold a congress, for the purpose of rebuilding on some satisfactory basis, the incon¬ gruous structure in which at present are deposited the result of their painful researches. We want a well- arranged museum, in which we may be sure of finding, in its right place, and correctly named, the particular specimen of which we may be in search ;—where the Bullfinch will not be at one time called a Gross-beak, at another a Einch, and placed in different orders, and families, and genera. “ It was a curious mossy cell, Woven with twigs, and grass, and hair, And, ’mid the moss six nestlings dwell, Concealed by apple-blossoms fair. ‘ ’Tis Bully’s nest! ’ Bethia said, ‘ Ilis head of glossy jet I spy, His downy breast of softest red ; Poor bird ! I hear his whooping cry ’ ” It is thus that an anonymous writer describes the nest of the Bullfinch, which is built rather later in the year than that of most other of our native birds, seldom being commenced until the latter end of April, or the beginning of May ; the eggs, four or five in number, are of a bluish white colour, spotted and streaked with grey and brown; they are about nine and a half twelfths of an inch in length, and seven and a half twelfths in breadth. M. Chateaubriand has furnished us with a pretty little cabinet picture of the home of the bird during the season of incubation, 74 FAVORITE SOISTO BIRDS. which will form an appropriate ornament for onr aviary. “ The bullfinch builds in the hawthorn, the gooseberry, and other bushes of our gardens; her eggs are slate-colored, like the plumage other hack. We recollect having once found one of these nests in a rose-bush; it resembled a shell of mother-of-pearl, containing four blue gems: a rose, bathed in the dews of morning, was suspended above it: the male bullfinch sat motionless on a neighbouring shrub, like a flower of purple and azure. These objects were reflected in the water of a stream, together with the shade of an aged walnut- tree, which served as a back-ground to the scene, and behind which appeared the ruddy tints of Aurora. In this little picture, the Almighty conveyed to us an idea of the graces with which he has decked all nature.” Affection and docility appear to be the two most remarkable traits in the character of the Bullfinch; the “ terms docile, teachable, and mild,” may perhaps be more appropriately applied to that than to any bird with which we are acquainted; while in a state of nature, it usually attaches itself to a single mate, as most naturalists agree, to which it continues faithful, until death dissolves the union; the pair are seldom far apart, and the male bird by its gentle and oft- repeated call note, and playful antics, appears striving to beguile the tedium of watchful incubation, in the duties of which it occasionally shares, hence Jenning-s in his “ Ornithologia,” makes the female, which it should be observed is also gifted with the power of song, utter these words.— “ We live without law, and we love without care, And my mate is delighted my feelings to share ; We live without law, and we love without strife, Oh, what is so sweet as the bullfinch’s life ? Our laws are our feelings, which prompt us to show Affection to all that inhabits below. THE BULLFINCH 75 From my mate is ne’er heard the harsh word of command; But a look, always kind, is the wizard’s sole wand. Son of freedom him elf, he’s the friend of the free, No constraint could be pleasing to him or to me. It is. thus he insures the Affections’ control; And thus, without law, he possesses my soul. Come, Man ! and learn thou, from the birds of the grove, What happiness waits on such generous love ! ” Of the teachable character of the bird we need no stronger evidence than that which is afforded by the facility with which it acquires the various tunes and tricks, which render it so general a favorite ; its imi¬ tative powers are great indeed, and its memory equally so ; an air which it has once thoroughly learned it seldom forgets. The Gfermans, whose patience and ingenuity admirably adapt them for the task of in¬ structing these birds, drive a lucrative trade in “ Piping Bullfinches,” a great number of which are annually brought to this country for sale. Dm Stanley thus describes the course of instruction to which they are V subjected ; after stating that the young birds are taken from their nests when they are about ten days old, and brought up by a person whose care and attention to their wants renders them docile, he savs— “ No school can be more diligently attended by its master, and no scholars more effectually trained to their own calling, than a seminary .of bullfinches. As a general rule they are formed into classes of about six in each, and kept in a dark room, where food and music are administered at the same time; so that when the meal is ended, if the birds feel disposed to tune up, they are natu¬ rally inclined to copy the sounds which are so familiar to them. As soon as they begin to imitate a few notes, the light is admitted into the room, which still farther exhilirates their spirits, and inclines them to sing. In some establishments the starving system is adopt¬ ed, and the birds are not allowed food or light untd they sing. 76 FAVORITE SONG BIRDS. "When they have been under this course of instruction in classes for some time, they are committed singly to the care of boys, whose sole business it is to go on with their education. Each boy assidu¬ ously plays his organ from morning till night, for the instruction of the bird committed to his care, while the class-teacher goes his regular rounds, superintending the progress of his feathered pupils, and scolding or rewarding them in a manner which they perfectly understand, and strictly in accordance with the attention or the disregard they have shown to the instructions of the monitor. This round of teaching goes on unintermittingly for no less a period than nine months, by which time the bird has acquired firmness, and is less likely to forget or spoil the air by leaving out passages, or giving them in the wrong place. At the time of moulting, the best instructed birds are liable to lose the recollection of their tunes, and therefore require to have them frequently repeated at that time, otherwise all the previous labour will have been thrown away. There are celebrated schools for these birds at Hesse and Fulda, from whence all Germany, Holland, and England, receive supplies of the little musicians. In some cases the birds have been taught to whistle three different airs, without spoiling or confusing them; but in general a simple air, with perhaps a little prelude, is as much as they can remember.” These birds, like human beings, have different degrees of capacity for receiving instruction, and the price which they fetch varies considerably, in accord¬ ance with the degree of perfection with which they execute the tunes which they have been taught; as much as four or five pounds, and even more, having been given for a bird that had shewn particular apti¬ tude in this respect. Beciistein complains of the want of musical taste in some of their instructors, which leads them to perpetrate sad offences against true harmony, and to teach their little protegees lessons, which it were much better if they had never been taught, and which, being once acquired, could not be THE BTJLLEINCH. 77 superseded by any more refined. The poet Savage says, “ The Bull-finch whistles soft his flute-like notes;” and those who have listened to a properly trained bird, as he went through some simple and plaintive melody, will confess that the term “flute-like,” is not misap¬ plied here. James Montgomery asks—- “ Bully, what fairy warbles in thy throat 1 ” and he makes the bird reply— “ Oh, for the freedom of my own wild note ; Art has enthralled my voice; I strive in vain To break the ‘ linked sweetness * of my chain ; Love, joy, rage, grief, ring one melodious strain.” Shewing that the poor bird, having once learned an air, could in that, and that only, express whatever emo¬ tions might agitate his fluttering bosom ; he has fore¬ gone nature, and become as it were an artificial thing, an instrument that can play but one tune, and must play that, or be ever silent. Numerous anecdotes might be quoted to show how deep and lasting is the attachment of this bird to those who have treated it with kindness and attention ; one of the most touching instances of this is a story told by Sir William Parsons an eminent musician, who possessed a piping Bullfinch, which he had taught to whistle “ God save the king.” On going abroad, he consigned the bird to the care of his sister, with a strict injunction to her to watch over its safety. On returning, his first visit was paid to poor Bully, who he was informed had for some time been in a declining state of health, and was then very ill indeed. Pilled with regret, Sir William went into the room where 78 FAVORITE SONG BIRDS. the cage of his favorite was kept, and going to it, opened the door, put his hand in, and spoke to the bird, which opened its eves, shook its feathers, stag¬ gered on to the outstretched finger of its beloved master, feebly piped “ God save the king! ” and fell dead. According to Bitffon, there have been in¬ stances in which Bullfinches, after having escaped from confinement, and remained at liberty for a year or more, have recognised the voices of those who reared them, and returned to their former state of captivity ; and others wherein these birds have died of grief when separated from their masters or mistresses. Moreover the dislikes of the bird are said to be as strong as its attachments; it remembers an injury as tenaciouslv as it does a kindness, and an instance is given of one, the cage of which was thrown down by some meanly clad persons, and which ever af¬ ter went into convulsions at the sight of any one similarly attired; and eventually died in a fit thus caused. Of the extreme sagacity and sensitiveness of this bird, much more might be related, did our space permit; if neglected, or in any way slighted, by the person to whom it has become attached, it will sulk and refuse to eat for awhile, showing a deep sense of what it plainly considers to be an injustice; if fright¬ ened or roughly handled, it will frequently go into fits, and even die suddenly. Great care must be taken in the selection of its food, which Bechstein says should consist principally of hemp and rape seed, with occasionally a variety in the shape of lettuce, endive, chick-weed, or water-cresses ; and in the clean¬ liness of its habitation, the purity of the water given THE BULLFINCH. 79 to it, &c., as the bird is very apt to become sickly, if not carefully tended. It has been noticed by Gtlbert White and others, that when fed wholely on hemp seed, the plumage of the Bullfinch has lost its brilliant tints, and assumed an uniform sable hue; why this has occurred, no one that we know of has attempted to explain; the same change has been known to occur when the bird has lost a much-loved companion in captivity; probably in both cases it is the effect of disease. The pleasing author of the “ Minstrelsy of the Woods,” relates several very interesting anecdotes of this bird, upon which she has also some touching lines ; these however we must pass over, as we are desirous of giving Cowper’s beautiful monody— On the Death oe Lady Throgmorton’s Bulleinch. “Ye nymphs! if e’er your eyes were red With tears, o’er hapless favourites shed, O, share Maria’s grief ! Her favourite, even in his cage, (What will not hunger’s cruel rage ?) Assassined by a thief. Where Rhenus strays his vines among, The egg was laid from whence he sprung ; And though by nature mute, Or only with a whistle blest, Well taught, he all the sounds expressed Of flageolet or flute. The honours of his ebon poll Were brighter than the sleekest mole; Ilis bosom of the hue With which Aurora decks the skies, When piping winds shall soon arise, To sweep away the dew. Above, below, in all the house, Dire foe alike of bird and mouse, No cat had leave to dwell} 80 FAVORITE SONG BIRDS. And Bully’s cage supported stood On props of smoothest shaven wood, Large built, and latticed well. Night veil’d the pole : all seemed secure : When led by instinct sharp and sure, Subsistence to provide, A beast forth sallied on the scout, Long hack’d, long tail’d, with whisker’d snout, And badger-color’d hide. Just then by adverse fate impressed, A dream disturbed poor Bully’s rest; In sleep he seemed to view A rat fast clinging to the cage, And, screaming at the sad presage, Awoke and found it true. For, aided both by ear and scent, Right to his mark the monster went,— Ah, muse! forbear to speak Minute the horrors that ensued, His teeth were strong, the cage was wood,— lie left poor Bully’s beak. O had he made that too his prey ; That beak, whence issued many a lay Of such mellifluous tone, Might have repaid him well, I wot, For silencing so sweet a throat, Fast stuck within his own.” 4 a Th e L1NNeT '.^A ^e obfir suit oi brov^vt ■ e A. an d there a tm i®t?es0^ 6f e 6 ^ ^‘bn' cZVoh OUtlusl'W^f ^ \ 4 *ate tvithtii the fvtfxe ^ ^ f 81 THE LINNET. Fringilla Cannabina, Linncms and TemmincJc. Linaria Cannabina, Macgil- livray. La Linotte, Buffon. Der Lanning, Bechstein. “ On the hawthorn spray The Linnet wakes her temp’rate lay ; She haunts no solitary shade, She flutters o’er no sunshine mead ; No love-lorn griefs depress her song, No raptures lift it loudly high, But soft she trills amid th’ aerial throng, Smooth, simple strains of soberest harmony.” Mason. •VC GrILLIVRAY includes in Ins “ Manual of r |;| 1^ British Birds,” four distinct species of Linnets, 1 which he classes by themselves, under the generic term Linota. Swatnson places them in a sub-family of the genus Linaria , which he honors with the euphonious title of Cocothraustince —what a hard name to be thrown at such a group of sweet, simple little birds ! With Mtjdie these are all Finches, and perhaps if we pursue our inquiries further into the labyrinth of systems and classifications, we shall find them turned into Geese, so we will e’en rest contented in our happy ignorance, and call them Linnets, or as the Scotch would say, Linties,— “ The Lintie on the heathery brae, (Where lies the nest amang the ferns) Begins to lilt at break o’day, And at the gloaming hails the sterns.” As an anonymous poet, quoted by Neville Wood, sings, alluding no doubt to the Brown, Grey, Rose, Whin, or Greater Redpole Linnet, as it is variously 82 FAVORITE SONG BIRDS. called, and well known as a sweet, though by no means a powerful songster; a little modest-looking creature, with sober-tinted plumage, and unobtrusive yet pleasing manners; a pleasant household companion, and a cheerful object in the summer landscape; exciting no great degree of admiration, and yet somehow a general favorite. Bird-catchers—a malison on their cruel craft!—will tell you that the little Brown, or Grey Linnet, finds a ready sale; and poets, not a few, have sung its praises, as we shall presently show. Mason, who well describes the “ temp’rate lay ” of the bird, we have already quoted, and a nameless Scottish poet, whose fellow-countryman Grahame shall furnish us with the next poetical picture which we present to our readers.— “ When whinny braes are garlanded with gold, And, blythe, the lamb pursues, in merry chase, His twin around the bush ; the Linnet, then. Within the prickly fortress builds her bower. And warmly lines it round, with hair and wool Inwove. Sweet minstrel, mays’t thou long delight The whinny know, and broomy brae, and bank Of fragrant birch! May never fowler’s snare Tangle thy struggling foot! Or, if thou’rt doomed Within the narrow cage thy dreary days To pine, may ne’er the glowing wire (Oh, crime accursed !) Quench, with fell agony, the shrivelling eye ! Deprived of air and freedom, shall the light Of day, thy only pleasure, be denied ? But thy own song will still be left; with it, Darkling, thou’lt soothe the lingering hours away; And thou wilt learn to find thy triple perch, Thy seed-box, and thy beverage saffron-tinged.” ’With Burns the Linnet was an especial favorite, if we may judge from the frequency with which he mentions it; here are two or three of his allusions— THE LINHET. 83 “ Through lofty groves the cushat roves, The path of man to shun it; The hazel bush o’erhangs the thrush, The spreading thorn the linnet.” * * ■* “ The mother linnet in the brake Eewails her ravished young; And I for my lost darling’s sake, Lament the live-day long.” * * “ In vain to me the cowslips blaw, In vain to me the vi’lets spring; In vain to me in glen or shaw, The mavis and the lintwhite sing.” And here we have another term frequently applied to this bird by Bttbns and other Scottish poets — the Lintwhite. In what this name originated, it would perhaps be difficult to tell; not, we should imagine, from the color of any portion of its plumage, the prevailing tints of which are brown, and yellowish grey, with a mixture of red, more or less distinct in different individuals, and at various stages of the bird’s exis¬ tence, which will account for its being sometimes called the Grey, sometimes the Brown, and sometimes the Bose Linnet. Two of the above quotations, it will be seen, are of a sad and desponding character ; we will now give another from the same poetic brain, which is full of hope and promise ; fresh and joyous as the spring-time of life, and the fair young creature on whom it was written— “ Within the bush her covert nest A little linnet fondly prest, The dew sat chilly on her breast Sae early in the morning; She soon shall see her tender brood, The pride and pleasure o’ the wood, Amang the fresh green leaves bedewed, Awake the early morning. 84 FAVORITE SONG BIRDS. So thou, dear bird, young Jeannie fair, On trembling stranger vocal air, Shall sweetly pay the tender care, That tents thy early morning.” With Scott, too, we find that there is this associa¬ tion between the song of the Linnet and the period of early freshness.— “ At morn the black-cock trims his jetty wing, ’Tis morning prompts the linnet’s blithest lay; All nature’s children feel the matin spring Of life reviving with reviving day.” Mtjdie gives a very good description of the Common Linnet, or as he calls it, the Greater Redpole Finch, and enters somewhat fully into its various changes of plumage, which have given rise to much confusion among those who have attempted to identify the bird by means of its livery, and, as we doubt not, some such angry altercations, in which “ Both were right and both were wrong,” as the fable tells us once arose about a chamelion ; and to make the matter more puzzling, besides this grey, brown, or red-coated gentleman, as the case may be, there is also a Green Linnet, so that one of the disputants in such a quarrel might well exclaim— “ ’Tis green, ’tis green, sir, I assure ye.” About this Green Linnet we shall have more to say presently. Some of the causes of the confusion which exists with regard to the distinct species of these birds are thus explained, by the naturalist above named. “If the males are taken young, they moult into the winter plu¬ mage, and do not change it; if they are taken in the flocking time, they retain the brown plumage in their moults; and if they are captured in the summer, which, from the wildness of their haunts THE LINNET. 85 and the wild habits of the birds, is not a very common case, they lose the red on the first moult, and never regain it afterwards. In summer, too, the female is very apt to he mistaken for the male. When one comes suddenly upon him, attracted by his song, which in the wilds is particularly cheerful, he instantly drops into the bush, before his plumage can be very carefully noticed; and if one beats the bush, out hops a brown bird, the female, and gets credit for the song of her mate. The deception, or the mistake, is further increased by the male ceasing his song and raising his alarm-call as soon as he is seen, and until he disappears in the bush, for he does not generally fly out; but the female does, and, as is the habit of the female in many birds, she offers herself to the enemy, that is, tempts him by short flights to wile him away from the nestand when the coast is clear, she again flies into the bush, chirping softly the note of safety; and soon after the male resumes his song. Thus, though it is the male that is heard, it is the female that is most frequently seen.” Some naturalists assert that the plumage of this bird changes when placed in a state of confinement from red to grey; and hence James Montgomeey makes it say, when thus addressed— “ Sweet is thy warble, beautiful thy plume, -Catch me and cage me, then behold my doom; My throat will fail, my colour wane away, And the red linnet soon become a grey ! ” And Bechstein seems to show that this is not alto¬ gether a poetic fiction, when he says of these birds, that those— “ brought up in the house never acquire the fine red on the forehead and breast; but remain grey like the males of one year old ; on the other hand, old oues red when brought into the house, lose their beautiful colours at the first moulting, and remaining grey like the young ones, are no more than grey linnets.” “Instructed,” as he says, “by long experience and 8G FAVORITE SONG BIRDS. the observations of many years,” this author attempts to prove that the Common Linnet ( Fringilla linotci) > the Greater Bedpole ( Fringilla cannabina) ; and the Mountain Linnet ( Fringilla montana) of Linnaeus, are one and the same bird, in different states of plumage- Whether this is a correct view of the matter we cannot decide, but by Wilsok, Selby, Wood, and many others, the last named bird, at all events, is re¬ cognized as a distinct species, so that authorities are decidedly against it. The Mountain Linnet seems to be the bird best known in the northern parts of Scot¬ land and the Scottish isles, wdiere, according to Mac- gillivray, it is very abundant, being generally called the Twite, or Heather Lintie ; it is probably to this bird, and not to the one common in the southern parts of Britain, that many of the Scottish poets al¬ lude, and to which the following lines, by an anony¬ mous author, are addressed “ I wadna gie the Lintie’s sang Sae merry on the broomy lea. For a’ the notes that ever rang, From a’ the harps o’ minstrelsy ! Mair dear to me where buss or breer Arnang the pathless heather grows, The Lintie’s wild, sweet note to hear. As on the ev’ning breeze it flows.” Wood has placed these lines at the head of his account of what he, following Blyth, calls the Bedpole Linnet; the Lesser Bedpole of Macgillivray, the Fringilla, lAnaria of Linn^tjs ; but they are scarcely applicable, inasmuch as that this is a bird chiefly found in the midland English counties, and is not likely, therefore, to be known to a poet of the north. The author THE LINNET. 87 whom we have here cited, mentions an interesting anecdote illustrative of its docility and attachment to those who feed and treat it kindly. “ In confinement it is easily preserved, and soon becomes tame and familiar. One that I saw in London some years ago, would feed out of its keeper’s hand, and refused its liberty when it had numerous opportunities of escaping. The person who possessed it wrote to me in July 1835, to say that it had reared a flourishing brood, which were all as tame and fearless as the parent, although but little pains had been taken to render them so. When about six weeks old, the cage containing the whole family was placed in the garden, with full liberty to escape. The old male first hopped out, and no sooner did he find himself free, than he flew away and was never seen afterwards. But even this example was not followed by the rest of the family. The female then led forth her progeny, and they flew to some tall trees in the garden. The cage was now with¬ drawn, and the windows of the house were shut, in order to observe how the birds would act. For several hours they continued gaily hopping about amongst the trees, but a little before dusk they be¬ trayed great eagerness to obtain admittance into the house. Finding this impracticable, they settled on the head and shoulders of their keeper, but would not suffer themselves to be captured, though they fed readily from the hand. Soon afterwards the cage being brought* the whole family entered and were shut in. These birds are still in good health, though in the end they will probably go the way of all pet birds, and fall into the jaws of Grimalkin.” As we are speaking of the different species of birds known as Linnets, we may as well go through the list, and so conclude this part of our subject, although we have no hopes of giving a very clear explanation of the distinctive characteristics of each, because, as we have already shown, authorities differ on this head. We have, it will be remembered, beside the immediate subject of our paper, the Common, or Whin Linnet, or 88 EAVORITE SONG BIRDS. Greater Redpole, spoken of the Twite, or Mountain Linnet, and the Lesser Redpole: we now' come to the Mealy Linnet, the Linaria Oanescens of Gould, who gives a beautiful representation of it in his “ Birds of Europe.” Blyth says of this bird, which is somewhat rare— “ I have now repeatedly heard the song of the Mealy Linnet, which differs from that of the species with which it has been confounded. Its call-note is precisely similar to that of the Redpole Linnet, but its song less resembles that of the Common Goldwing. The call- note is introduced equally often, hut is intermingled Avith a low harsh note, somewhat like that of the Mountain Linnet, but not nearly so loud. It is the most musical of the four British species.” We have now only to remark upon the Green Linnet, about w'hich naturalists differ greatly, some calling it a Grosbeak, and some a Einch. Macgil- livray, adopting the views of C. L. Bonaparte, places it in a genus by itself, which he calls Clilorospiza — there’s a name again ! and to this generic title of dis¬ tinction, he adds chloris to mark the individual, happily all unconscious of these ugly epithets. Bechstein, speaking of the attractive qualities of this, the Le Verdier, or Green Bird of Buffon, says— “Without being handsome its song is not disagreeable ; it may also be taught to repeat Avords; but its greatest mentis the wonder¬ ful ease with which it is tamed, equalling, and even surpassing the bullfinch in this particular. It may not only be accustomed to go and return again, but also to build in a room near an orchard, or in a summerhouse in the garden.” We learn further from this authority, that sportsmen and bird catchers mention three kinds of Green Birds, viz., the large, whose plumage is of an uniform bright THE LINNET. 89 yellow tint; the middle-size, which lias this tint only on the under part of the body ; and the little, which is more of a green color ; but these are all, no doubt, the same bird, in different stages of growth, or under various modifying circumstances. The Green Linnet is usually a strong, healthy bird, and will live a great while in confinement, instances have been known of its doing so for a period of twelve years; it sometimes breeds while in this state with canaries, but the off¬ spring of this union, are, the German naturalist tells us, always bad singers. We must not forget the beau¬ tiful lines bv Wordsworth to •/ “ The Green Linnet. Beneath these fruit-tree boughs that shed Their snow-white blossoms on my head, With brightest sunshine round me spread Of spring’s unclouded weather; In this sequestered nook how sweet To sit upon my orchard-seat, And birds and flowers once more to greet, My last year’s friends together. One have I marked, the happiest guest In all this covert of the blest: Hail to Thee, far above the rest In joy of voice and pinion ! Thou Linnet! in thy green array, Presiding Spirit here to-day, Dost lead the revels of the May ; And this is thy dominion. While birds, and butterflies, and flowers Make all one band of paramours, j Thou, ranging up and down the bowers, ,i Art sole in thy employment: A Life, a Presence, like the Air Scattering thy gladness without care, Too blest with any one to pair ; Thyself thy own enjoyment. 90 FAVORITE SONG BIRDS. Upon yon tuft of hazel trees, That twinkle to the gusty breeze, Behold him perched in ecstacies, Yet seeming still to hover ; There! w T here the flutter of his wings Upon his back and body flings Shadows and sunny glimmerings, That cover him all over. My dazzled sight the bird deceives, A brother of the dancing leaves; Then flits, and from the cottage-eaves Pours forth his song in gushes; As if by that exulting strain, He mocked and treated with disdain The voiceless Form he chose to feign, While fluttering in the bushes.” The nest of the common, or Whin Linnet, so called no doubt from the circumstance of its frequenting downs and open moors abounding in furze bushes, or “ whins,” as they are frequently termed, is usually constructed of moss, fine twigs, and fibres, interwoven with wool and other substances of the like nature, it is thus described by Darwin—- “ The busy birds with nice selection cull Soft thistle-down, grey moss, and scatter’d wool; Far from each prying eye the nest prepare, Form’d of warm moss, and lined with softest hair. Week after week, regardless of her food, The incumbent Linnet warms her future brood: Each spotted egg with ivory bill she turns, Day after day with fond impatience burns; Hears the young prisoner chirping in his cell, And breaks in hemisphexes the fragile shell.” There are commonly from four to six eggs, which are of a bluish white color, marked all over, but most thickly at the larger end, with reddish brown, or purplish grey spots; the average length of these eggs is nine twelfths of an inch, their breadth six and a half twelfths. THE LINNET. 91 “ A cradle for the Greenbird’s bed, And prickly covert o’er her head. The forked pine supplies. A hole In wall, or tree’s decaying bole, The Oxeye’s artless nest receives. With thickening shroud of sprouting leaves, The quickset hawthorn’s prickly spines Or gooseberry’s, where the Linnet twines, His house compact, or cove within, The shrubby and close clustered whin, ’Gainst eye or hand a shelter throw, And barrier from invading foe.” *It is thus that Bishop Mant speaks of the situation usually chosen by this bird for building, a thick prickly hush of some kind being preferred. Wood states that it very frequently builds in wall-fruit trees, and espe¬ cially pears, and that the young seldom leave the nest until they are fully fledged, when their plumage is somewhat darker in color than that of the adult birds, the male and female of which are so similarly attired that it is difficult to distinguish them. Allusion has already been made to the changes which take place in the tints of the feathers of these birds, giving the im¬ pression, in some instances, that there were distinct species. Before the spring moult of the second year, the term “ grey” or “ brown” has been applied to them, and afterwards they were called “ Bed-breasted Lin¬ nets.” Between their summer and winter clothing there appears to be a considerable change of color, although it is scarcely to be expected that they consult “ the book of fashions.” Mant alludes to this change thus, in his description of October— “ Or mark the flocks of Linnets grey , Start from the sheltering hedge beneath, And flutter o’er the furze clad heath. 92 FAVORITE SONG BIRDS. See from their white, plumed fronts are fled, The dusky throat, the flaming red, Till spring again with love illume The lustre of each blood-bright plume.” The male Linnet, Wood tells us, “ does not acquire its adult tints till the spring of the second year, and seldom attains its full beauty till the third year of its life. Nothing can then be more lovely than the bright red scarf on the head and breast, especially when the sun shines on them.” It is, in truth, a very pretty and a pleasing bird, docile, aud affectionate, and lively; and although we cannot quite agree with the old poet Michael Drayton, and say— “ To Philomel the next, the Linnet we prefer,” yet has this little bird a very high place in our estima¬ tion, and dearly do we love to hear, especially in that “ sabbath of the year” a calm and bright autumn day, its sweet melody, which, as Whiffin says,— “ Breaks the crystal air in sounds that gush, Clear as a fountain from its jasper base, And warm as if its little heart would rush To ruin with the music.” Many a lovely spot could w r e describe, oh reader, if time and space permitted, where we have lingered lis¬ tening to the melody of birds, many a spot which seemed the very home of beauty and of harmony, such as the late Dilnot Sladden, in his fine poem “ the Spirit of Beauty,” depicts— “ Close by the levelled oak with twisted stem, The lowly hawthorn blooms in simple grace, V r here oft the Linnet builds her curious nest, And from the topmost twig in freedom sings, To lull her downy young ones to repose.” THE LINNET. 93 But we must forbear, having yet much interesting matter which we would fain include in this sheet. The following extract, from “the Journal of a Naturalist,” is too full of characteristic traits of the bird of which we are writing, to be omitted, or curtailed— “ If the sober, domestic attachments of the hedge sparrow please ns, we are not less charmed with the innocent, blithesome gaiety of the linnet (fringilla linota ,) But this songster is no solitary visitor of our dwellings : it delights and lives in society, frequenting open commons and gorsy fields, where several pairs, without the least rivalry or contention, will build their nests and rear their offspring- in the same neighbourhood, twittering and warbling all the day¬ long. This duty over, the families unite, and form large associa¬ tions, feeding and moving in company, as one united household; and resorting to the head of some sunny tree, they will pass hours in the enjoyment of the warmth, chattering with each other in a low and gentle note; and they will thus regularly assemble during any occasional bright gleam throughout all the winter season,— ‘ And still their voice is song,’ which, heard at some little distance, forms a very pleasing concert, innocent and joyous. The linnet is the cleanliest of birds, delight¬ ing to dabble in the water and dress its plumage in every little rill that runs by. The extent of voice in a single bird is not remark¬ able, being more pleasing than powerful; yet a large field of furze, on a mild sunny April morning, animated with the actions and cheering music of these harmless little creatures, united with the bright glow and odour of this early blossom, is not visited without gratification and pleasure.” Gilbert White also alludes to tbeir habit of asso¬ ciating in flocks or families, when the breeding season is over, and of singing at intervals far into the winter; and Sir W. Jardine, in one of his notes to Wilson’s “ Ornithologyobserves— “Every one who has lived much in the country, must have often 94 FAYORITE SONG BIRDS. remarked the common European Linnet congregating towards the close of a fine winter’s evening, perched on the summit of some bare tree, pluming themselves in the last rays of the sun, chirruping the commencement of their evening song, and then bursting simultane¬ ously into one general chorus, again resuming their single strains, and again joining, as if happy at the termination of their day’s em¬ ployment.” The Portuguese poet, Camoens, we recollect, has a very sweet little song, in which this bird is introduced as one of the harbingers of spring; here is Lord Strang - ford’s version of it— “ Flowers are fresh and hushes green, Cheerily the Linnets sing; Winds are soft and skies serene, Time, however, soon shall bring Winter’s snow O’er the buxom breast of spring. Hope that buds in Lover’s heart, Lives not through the scorn of years ; Time makes love itself depart, Time and scorn congeal the mind; Looks unkind Freeze affection’s warmest tears. Time shall make the bushes green, Time dissolve the winter’s snow, Winds be soft and skies serene, Linnets sing their wonted strain, But again, Blighted bud shall never blow.” The Irish poet, Dermody, sings a touching strain to * the sensitive Linnet,” which, however, we must deny ourselves the pleasure of quoting ; and JNorthcote, in his fable of “ the Linnet and the Nightingale,” makes the former bird thus modestly urge a plea and apology for its simple and pleasing warble— “ I only sing because I love the art; I envy not indeed, but much revere ' THE LINNET. 95 Those birds whose fame the test of skill will bear I feel no hope aspiring to surpass, Nor with their charming songs my own would class; Far other aims incite my humble strain, Then surely I your pardon may obtain, While I attempt the rural vale to move By imitating of the lays I love.” We must now give an anecdote from Stanley’s “ Familiar History of Birds,” showing that the Linnet, naturally timid as it is, will become bold enough when prompted by alfection for its offspring— “What can be more interesting than the affection of the two linnets we are about to mention ? A nest containing four young ones, scarcely fledged, was found by some children, who resolved to carry them home, for the purpose of rearing and taming the young birds. The old ones, attracted by their chirping, continued fluttering round the children, till they reached the house, when the nest was carried up stairs to the nursery, and placed outside the windows. The old birds soon afterwards made their appearance, approached the nest, and fed the family, without showing alarm. This being noticed, the nest was soon afterwards placed on a table in the middle of the apart¬ ment, and the window left open. The parent-birds came boldly in and fed their offspring as before. Still further to put their attach¬ ment to the test, the nest and young ones were placed within a bird¬ cage ; still the old ones returned, entered boldly within the cage, and supplied the wants of their brood as before, and towards evening actually perched on the cage, regardless of the noise made around them, by several children. This continued for several days ; when an unlucky accident put an end to it. The cage had been again set on the outside of the window, and was unfortunately left exposed to a sudden and heavy fall of rain; the consequence was, that the whole of the young were drowned in the nest. The poor parents, who had so boldly and indefatigably performed their duty, con¬ tinued hovering round the house, and looking wistfully in at the window, for several days, and then disappeared.” We cannot resist the temptation to quote a graceful FAYORITE SONG BIRDS DO lyrical effusion from the French of Berquin, as ren¬ dered by Stephen Prentis, it is entitled— ¥ “ The Linnet’s Nest. I have it, the nest of the linnet! The prize it is—two, three, and four! How long have I waited to win it, And wanted to take it before!— Ah! struggle and cry as ye will, Little rebels your labour’s in vain; Tor see, ye are featherless still, And idle it is to complain. But surely the mother I hear, Her bosom with agony wrung, —It is she! and the father is near, Lamenting the loss of his young ! And I, then, can deal ’em the stroke, Who laid me in summer along, And under the boughs of an oak. Fell asleep to the sound of their song. Alas ! should a kidnapper come, And rob my poor mother of me, How soon would she sink to the tomb! IIow wretched my father would be! Yet 1 for your darlings could climb To your nest in a barbarous mood, —No, no, I repent me xn time,— There take back your innocent brood. Go, teach ’em to flutter and fly, As ye in your earliest spring ; By dulcet degrees by and by Go teach ’em to twitter and sing; And I, when the season has broke, Will lay me in summer along, And under the boughs of an oak Fall asleep to the sound of their song! ” t* 4 the redbreast. hold Til'd iliaL lo the window comes, rful soug when other birds are mute, ns a rich reward, the scatter'd crumbs sioner, dad Lii red and russet suit. 97 THE ROBIN. Motacilla Rubecula, Linnaeus. Sylvia Rubecula, Temminck. Erithacus u- becula, Macgillivray. Le Rouge-gorge, Buffon. Das Rotbkelbchen, Bcch- stein. “ Tbe Redbreast, sacred to the household Gods, Wisely regardful of the threat’ ning sky, In joyless fields, and thorny thickets, leaves His shivering mates ; and pays to trusted man His annual visit. Half afraid, he fir st Against the window beats ; then, brisk, alights On the warm hearth ; then hopping o’er the floor. Eyes all the smiling family askance, And pecks, and starts, and wonders where he is; Till, more familiar grown, the table crumbs Attract his slender feet.” Thompson. < • fi- ... , > •'• 3p!|p :^mM 129 THE THETTSH. Turdus Musicus, Linnceus, Temminck, and Macgillivray. Le Grive, Buffon. Die Singdrossel, Bechstein . A flute-like melody is tliine, 0 Thrush ! Full of rich cadences, and clear and deep; Upon the sense it cometh like a gush Of perfume, stolen from the winds that sweep Where spice-isles gem the bosom of the deep; At early morn, and ’mid the eve-tide’s hush, Pouring thy mellow music thou dost keep, From out the lilac tree or hawthorn hush : I love thee for the love thou bear’st the lowly, The cottage garden is thy fav’rite haunt, And in those hours, so calm, so pure, so holy, It evei 4 is thy pleasure forth to chant Those blithesome pecans, seeming as it were Thy wish to make all happy, dwelling there. II. G. Adams. 0 British songster pours out a more loud, clear and melodious strain, than the Song Thrush, Throstle, or Mavis, as this bird is variously called: the notes of the Nightingale are no doubt softer, richer, and more varied; those of the Black¬ bird are more mellow and full of tone ; the lay of the Eincli is more sprightly; and that of the Skylark more thrilling and exhilirating; but whether in its green¬ wood home, or in a state of captivity, no feathered chorister of them ail so pleases the ear which delights in sweet sounds, and satisfies , as it were, the soul of the listener, as this speckled songster of the groves and gardens. Graham, in a few characteristic lines K 130 EAYORITE SONG BIRDS. has very happily described both the appearance and song of the bird—• “ The Thrush's song Is varied as his plumes; and as his plumes Blend beauteous, each with each, so run his notes Smoothly, with many a happy rise and fall. How prettily, upon his parued breast, The vividly contrasting tints unite To please the admiring eye; so, loud and soft, And high and low, all in his notes combine, In alternation sweet, to charm the ear.” And as it is with the plumage of the bird, in which the tints, although sufficiently diverse, are yet nicely shaded, and blended one into the other; so is it with the song, which flows on like a stream of liquid music, having in it enough of variation to give it life and character, and yet presenting none of those sudden transitions and quick changes of tone and expression, which startle and please for the moment, but too much excite and stimulate the mind and senses, to be per¬ manently agreeable or healthful. To us the song of the Thrush has ever seemed like the voice of a dear friend, cheering, advising, and, at times, admonishing us of our duties, and reproving us for our errors ; we should never weary of listening to it, for it flows on so sweetly and agreeably ; it has none of those long-con¬ tinued reiterations of a single note or more, which so mar the harmony of many a dulcet strain; none of those trills, and shakes, and quavers, wffiicli seem the very madness of song, and make one hold one’s breath, fearing lest the musician, as Strada’s Nightingale is said to have done, were singing itself to death—and then, again, it has none of those long pauses and inter¬ vals of silence, when the delighted sense listens in vain THE THRUSH. 131 for a repetition of the thrilling- harmony, and the con¬ viction comes like a chill to the bosom, that it, like all earthly pleasures, is hut transitory and unsatisfying. Well it is for us, if we can look through the mists and fogs that surround humanity, to the place of everlasting joy and pleasure, full and unfailing ; well for us if we can be as unrepining and as trustful as the Thrush— “ Of true felicity possest He glides through life supremely blest, And for his daily meal relies On Him whose love the world supplies ; Rejoiced he finds his morning fare, His dinner lies he knows not where, Still to the unfailing hand he chants, His grateful song, and never wants.” As an anonymous poet sings. Throughout the length of the longest summer-day, in woodland, field, and garden, may the sweet song of the Thrush be heard. The old pastoral poet, William Browne, when he -went forth in the morning, 'knew that it -was very early— “ For the Throstle had not been, Gathering worms yet on the green.” Drayton, in his “ Polyolbion,” tells us how, amid the grey twilight of morn, he heard— “ The Throstle with shrill sharps, as purposely he sung, To awake the lustless sun, or chiding that so long He was in coming forth, that should the thickets thrill.” While Burns, when he describes the scenes and circumstances of declining day, among the Scottish glens and mountains, makes the song of the Mavis a prominent feature thereof— J. “ ’Twas even—the dewy fields were green, On every blade the pearls hang, K 2 132 EAVORITE SOtfG BIRDS. The zephyr wanton’d round the hean, And bore its fragrant sweets alang: In every glen the Mavis sang, All nature listening seemed the while, Except where greenwood echoes rang, Among the braes o’ Ballochmyle.” Elsewhere he also alludes to the bird as an evening songster, apportioning out the day between three of the best known, and most admired, of the tuneful quire:— “ The Lav’rock wakes the merry morn, Aloft on dewy wing; The Merle, in the noontide bower Makes woodland echoes ring; The Mavis wild wi’ many a note, Sings drowsy day to rest: In love and freedom they rejoice, Wi’ care nor thrall opprest.” Again, in another place, this poet bids the shepherds— “ Hark the Mavi’s evening sang, Sounding Clouden’s woods amang.” Nor should we omit to quote the nice distinction which he makes between the song of the Thrush, and that of the Merle and the Linnet:— “ The Blackbird strong, the Lintwhite clear. The Mavis mild and mellow Eitting music this for the close of a fresh spring or balmy summer’s day—“ mild and mellow,” soft and soothing; speaking to the soul, through the ear, of— “ Something attempted , something done , To earn a night’s repose,” and ushering in the period of silence and of tran¬ quility. The Germans have very happily expressed this impression in a cradle song, one verse of which runs thus: — THE THRUSH, 133 “ Sweet child, while not a breath around, Disturbs thy slumbers soft and sound, Save when the Thrush, that hovers nigh, Sends from the hedge sweet lullaby.” And now we have got to the old “ Fatherland,” we may as well quote what Bech stein says about the commendatory qualities of the Thrush : — “ It is one of tlie few birds whose clear and beautiful song ani¬ mates the woods, and makes them pleasing. From the summits of the highest trees, it announces by its varying song, like that of the Nightingale, the approach of spring, and sings throughout the whole summer, especially in the morning dawn and evening twi¬ light. For the sake of this song it is kept by fanciers in a cage, whence morning and evening, even as early as February, it will delight a whole street with its loud and pleasing song, when hung outside of the window, or inside, so that the window be a little open. In Thuringia it is reported to articulate words. Its strophe was formerly heard more frequently than it is now. Only old and excellent birds still sing it. This Thrush will live for six or eight years if its food be varied.” Touching the nature of this food, our author gives full directions, in his admirable work on Cage Birds, of which several English editions have been published. Our volume is rather a companion for the fields and woods, than for the aviary, and therefore we have said little about the proper mode of treating birds in a state of confinement, in which state our readers will ere this have learned, we love not to see or to think of them. It is in their own sylvan homes that we would visit our feathered favorites, to their natural song that we would listen, and in noticing their natural habits and manners, that we take especial delight. Like the convalescent knight in Spenser’s “ Faerie Queene,” of whom it is said,— 134 FAVORITE SONG BIRDS. “ Now when as Calepine was waxen strong, Upon a day he cast abroad to wend, To take the air, and hear the Thrush’s song.” So we, beneath the canopy of leafy boughs, through which the sunshine shimmers, and amid which the gentle breezes ever whisper, or under the broad blue cope of heaven, would rather listen to the simplest strain that ever feathered warbler uttered, than to the most wonderful performance of a little captive, whose “ native wood notes wild,” had been improved upon, as it is called, by artificial teaching, and one knows not what amount of suffering and privation. But we w*ere speaking of the food of the Thrush, which, in its wild state of nature, appears to consist principally of earth-worms, slugs, snails, and the like soft animal substances, that is in the earlier part of the year, for in the autumn, they feed much upon berries, such as those of the holly, ivy, mountain-ash, and juniper: to the mulberry, as well as to the cherry tree, and gooseberry and currant bushes, they are also occasional visitors, nor do they object to make a meal now and then off a nice ripe, juicy pear. But these slight depredations on fruits set apart especially for the use of man, may well be forgiven, in consider¬ ation of the services rendered in the destruction of immense numbers of caterpillars, and other garden pests, to one kind of which in particular the Thrush is a great enemy : here is Knapp’s account of his method and perseverance in the work of destruction:— “ I do not recollect any creature less obnoxious to harm than the common snail [helix aspersa) of our gardens. A sad persevering depredator and mangier it is; and when we catch it at its banquet THE THRESH. 135 on our walls, it can expect no reprieve at our hands. But our captures are partial and temporary ; and, secure in its strong shell, it seems safe from external dangers; yet its time comes, and one weak bird destroys it in great numbers. In the winter season, the common Song Thrush feeds sparingly upoii the berries of the white¬ thorn, and the hedge fruits, but passes a great portion of its time at the bottom of ditches, seeking for the smaller species of snails, {[helix hortensis and helix nemoralis ), which it draws out from the old stumps of the fence with unwearied perseverance, dashing their shells to pieces on a stone ; and we frequently see it escaping from the hedge-bank with its prize, which no little intimidation induces it to relinquish. The larger kind at this season are beyond its power readily to obtain; for, as the cold weather advances, they congregate in clusters behind some old tree, or against a sheltered wall, fixing the opening of their shells against each other, or on the substance beneath ; and adhering so firmly in a mass, that the Thrush cannot by any means draw them, wholly or singly, from their asylum. In the warmer portion of the year they rest separate, adhere but slightly; and should the summer be a dry one, the bird makes ample amends for the disappointment in winter; intrudes its bill under the margin of the opening, detaches them from their hold, and destroys them in great numbers. In the summers of 1825 and 1826, both hot and dry ones, necessity rendered the Thrush un¬ usually assiduous in its pursuits; and every large stone in the lane, or under the old hedge, was strewed with the fragments of its banquet. This has more than once reminded me of the fable of the ‘ Four Bulls; ’ united invincible,—when separated, an easy prey ; but, with the exception of this season, and this bird, I know no casualty to which the garden snail is exposed.” The Tlirusli is one of the few song birds that are vocal at a very early part of the year ; according to a Calendar of Nature, kept by Gilbert White, from the 6th to the 22nd January, is generally the date of its commencement, that is in Hampshire. Markwick, a Sussex naturalist, places it later on the list of early songsters, giving it a range of from January 15tli, to 136 FAYOBITE SONG BIRDS. April 4th. Certain it is, however, that when we hear the music of this bird poured forth loudly and con¬ tinuously, we may hail it as an indication of coming Spring, and joyously exclaim with the author of “ Min¬ strelsy of the Woods”— “ Hark how the air rings, ’Tis the Mavis sings: And merrily, merrily, sounds her voice, Calling on valleys and hills to rejoice ; For winter is past, And the stormy blast Is hastening away to the northward at last.” Burns, it will be remembered, records the circum¬ stance of hearing one of these birds sing in the month of January, in a Sonnet which thus commences— “ Sing on, sweet Thrush, upon the leafless bough; Sing on, sweet bird, I listen to thy strain: See, aged winter, ’mid his surly reign, At thy blith carol clears his furrowed brow.” And when the season of blossoms and buds has become somewhat more advanced, the strain is again taken up by William Browne, who singeth thus— “-See the spring Is the earth enamelling, And the birds on every tree, Greet the morn with melody, Hark how yonder Throstle chants it, And her mate as proudly vaunts it.” The nest of the Thrush is built generally in the stormy month of March, and some of its sweetest love- songs are borne afar upon, and drowned amid the shrill piping and whistling of, the gales of that boisterous season; then it is that other songsters of the grove begin to awake from their winter silence, and to prepare for that full burst of choral harmony, which awaits but THE THRESH. 137 the arrival of the summer visitants, to swell, and swell, until it fills every thicket and glade with music, and makes it appear as if the whole universe were affected with some “melodious madness.” In the following lines by Bloomeield, we are introduced to three of the native musicians on whom devolves the performance of the prelude to this grand concert:— “ The Blackbird strove with emulation sweet, And Echo answered from her lone retreat; The sporting Whitethroat on some twig’s end borne, Poured hymns to freedom and the rising morn ; Stopt in her song, perchance the starting Thrush, Shook a white shower from the blackthorn bush, Where dew-drops thick as early blossoms hung, And trembled as the minstrel sweetly sung.” In a thick bush, such as that of the hawthorn, holly, silver fir, furze, ivy; or sometimes in a dead fence, where the grass grows high, does this bird construct, or “huddle together” as‘BoLTOH has it, a nest, the outside of which is formed of small sticks, withered leaves, grass, and various kinds of moss; clay and rotten wood, with a few blades of withered grass to bind them together, constituting the lining, which is near upon half-an-incli in thickness. Rennie says that cow and horse-dung are sometimes used, with the fibres of de¬ cayed wood, to form a cement for this purpose. Here is Clare’s description of the process of construction, and its natural results— “ Within a thick and spreading hawthorn bush That overhung a molehill large and round, I heard, from morn to morn, a merry Thrush, Sing hymns to sunrise, while I drank the sound With joy:—and often, an intruding guest, I watch’d her secret toils, from day to day, How true she warp’d the moss to form her nest. And model’d it within with wood and clay. 138 FAVORITE SONG BIRDS. And by and by, like heath-bells gilt with dew, There lay her shining eggs as bright as flowers, 1 nk-spotted-over shells of green and blue, And there I witness’d, in the Summer hours, A brood of Nature’s minstrels chirp and fly, Glad as the sunshine and the laughing sky. To mark how well the poet and the naturalist agree, we have only to turn to Bolton, who describes the eggs as of “ a beautiful pale blue with a cast of green, and marked with a few distinct purple spots.” Mac- LriLLiVRAT says—“ The eggs, generally five in number, nre bright blueish-green, with scattered roundish spots of brownish-black; their length about an inch, their breadth nine twelfths.” In his “History of British Birds,” this author relates many interesting particulars of the Song Thrush, which he describes as “ generally distributed in Britain and Ireland, occurring even in the bare northern isles, as well as in the wooded and cultivated parts.” Here is an extract from his delight¬ ful work, which we are sure our readers will thank us for quoting, although it occupies a very considerable portion of our limited space :—- “ The Song Thrush is associated in my memory with the Hebrides, where it is perhaps more abundant than in most parts of Britain. There, in the calm summer evening, such as for placid beauty far exceeds any that I have elsewhere seen, when the glorious sun is drawing towards the horizon, and shedding a broad glare of ruddy light over the smooth surface of the ocean; when the scattered sheep accompanied by their frolieksome lambkins, are quietly browsing on the hill; when the broad-winged eagle is s6en skimming along the mountain ridge, as he wends his way towards his eyry on the far promontory; when no sound comes on the ear save at intervals the faint murmur of the waves rushing into the caverns and rising against the faces of the cliffs; when the western breeze, stealing over the flowery pastures, carries with it the perfume of the wild thyme THE THRUSH. 139 and white clover; the song of the Thrush is poured forth from the summit of some granite block, shaggy with grey lichens, and returns in softer and sweeter modulations from the sides of the heathy mountains. There may be wilder, louder, and more marvellous songs, and the mocking bird may be singing the requiem of the red Indian of the Ohio, or cheering the heart of the ruthless oppressor, the white man of many inventions ; hut to me it is all-sufficient, for it enters into the soul, melts the heart into tenderness, diffuses a holy calm, and connects the peace of earth with the transcendent happiness of heaven. In other places the song of the Thrush may he lively and cheering ; here, in the ocean-girt solitude, it is gentle and soothing; by its magic influence it smoothes the ruffled surface of the sea of human feelings, as it floats over it at intervals with its varied swells and cadences, like the perfumed wavelets of the summer wind. Here on the hill side lay thee down on this grassy bank, beside the block of gneiss that in some convulsion of primeval times has been hurled unbroken from the fissured crag above. On the slope beneath are small winding plots of corn, with intervals of pasture, and tufts of the yellow iris. The coast is here formed of shelving crags, and jutting promontories, there stretches along in a winding beach of white sand, on which the wavelets rush with gentle murmur. Flocks of Mergansers and dusky Cormorants are fishing in the bay, the white Gannets are flying in strings towards the ocean, the Bock-Doves glide past on whistling pinious, and the joyous Starlings bound towards their rocky homes. Hark to the cry of the Corn-Crake, softened by distance, now seeming to come from afar, now louder as if borne toward you by the breeze. It has ceased, hut the Cuckoo calls to his mate from the cairn on the hill. Again all is silent. The streaks in the channel show that the tide is ebbing ; a thin white vapour is spread over the distant islands; and beyond them the spirit wings its flight over the broad surface of the ocean, to where the air and the waters blend on the western horizon. But it is recalled by the clear loud notes of that speckled warbler, that in the softened sunshine pours forth his wild melodies on the gladdened ear. Listen, and think how should you describe the strain so as to impress its characters on the mind of one who never heard it. Perhaps you might say that it consists of a sue- 140 FAYORITE SONG BIRDS. cession of notes, greatly diversfied, repeated at short intervals with variations, and protracted for a long time; that it is loud, clear, and mellow, generally sprightly hut at times tender and melting. You add that two birds at a distance from each other often respond, the one commencing its song when the other has ceased; and that several may be heard at once, filling a whole glen with their warb- lings. Listen again, and say what does it resemble. ‘ Dear, dear, dear, Is the rocky glen ; Far away, far away, far away The haunts of men. Here shall we dwell in love With the lark and the dove, Cuckoo and corn rail; Feast on the banded snail, Worm and gilded fly; Drink of the crystal rill Winding adown the hill, Never to dry. With glee, with glee, with glee, Cheer up, cheer up, cheer up ; here Nothing to harm us ; then sing merrily, Sing to the loved one whose nest is near Qui, qui, qui, kweeu, quip, Tiurru, tiurru, chipiwi, Too-tee, too-tee, chiu, clioo, Chirri, chirri, chooee, Quiu, qui, qui.’ This attempt to convey to the ear by means of writ¬ ten characters, the variations in the song of the bird, is, however, quite a failure, as all such efforts must he ; and so the author evidently considers it, for he says in continuation, that—“The Thrush’s song is inimitable and indiscribable and that it truly is so, all will tes¬ tify who have listened to it with attention: as well attempt to paint a sunbeam, or to catch and hold a flying cloud-shadow, as to give phonotypic form and substance to the trills, and warbles, and exquisite mo- THE THRUSH. 141 dulations, and interminglings of musical sound, uttered by the feathered vocalists. It cannot be done, nor is it desirable that it should be attempted, any more than that birds should be taught to articulate the utterances of human speech, which, proceeding from their bills, must be devoid of sense or significance, being but— “ Empty sounds and iterations, Very trying to one’s patience.” So, at least, we have ever found and considered them. Therefore it is that we would not care to cultivate those imitative powers which the Thrush, in common with many other birds, is said to possess in a high degree. We are not only free to confess, with Words¬ worth, our belief— “ That every flower enjoys the air it breathes,” but also that every natural note, of every bird that ever sung, has in it a meaning, which is well understood by the creatures of its kind, and by the Almighty Creator, who gave this power of expressing the various pleasing and other emotions which prompt their lays to their fel¬ low warblers. Nor do we see any thing inconsistent with our conviction, that their state of existence is merelv sensuous and temporary, in supposing that some of these musical utterances may be those of praise and thank¬ fulness to that higher Providence, without whose knowledge, we are assured in scripture, not even a sparrow falls to the ground. Not merely without con¬ sciousness and premeditation is it, that—“ All nature praiseth Grod.” Thankless man might learn many a lesson from the beasts of the field, and the fowls of the air, would he but attend to their motions and utter¬ ances with a meek and understanding spirit; he 142 FAVORITE SONG BIRDS. would then hioiv that the song of the bird was some¬ thing more than a combination of musical sounds ; he would then confess with Eiciiard TIowitt, that— “ High in the dawn the Lark will sing O’er mountain and o’er river, Wafting that worship on free wing To the all-bounteous Giver. The Thrush at eve, as sweet as loud, Of joy like large partaker, Will sing amid the singing crowd, Yet louder to his Maker.” And feel with C. Thompson the devotional incitements which prompted such lines as these,— “ Sweet birds that breathe the spirit of song, And surround Heaven’s gate in melodious throng ; Who rise with the early beams of day, Your morning tribute of thanks to pay; You remind me that we should likewise raise, The voice of devotion, and song of praise. There’s something about you that points on high, Ye beautiful tenants of earth and sky.’’ The Thrush is a classical bird; Horace declares it to be a very appropriate present to a legacy-hunter ; and puts its praises into the mouth of a gormandizing spendthrift,— “ Cum sit abeso Nil melius turdo.” And Martial gives it the same rank .among esculent birds, as he does the hare among quadrupeds,— “ Inter aves turdas, si quis me judice certat,] Inter quadrupedes gloria prima lepus.’’ Before concluding our chapter on the Thrush, it will be well to say a few words about the other individuals of the family to which it belongs; one of these, the Blackbird, or Garden Ouzel (Turdus Merula), we have T1IE THRUSH. 143 already described somewhat full}''; and to another the Eing Ouzel, or White-breasted Thrush ( Turdus Torqua- tus ), have made an allusiou sufficient for our present purpose The following British Birds are included in the same genus by Macgilliyray. — The Chestnut- backed, or Grey Thrush, or Fieldfare ( Turdus Pilaris ), a migratory bird, and no songster, chiefly valued on account of the excellent eating which its flesh affords ; the Eed-sided, or Wind Thrush, or Eedwing (Turdus lliacus ), also migratory and gregarious like the last; the Yariegated, or Mountain Thrush (Turdus Yanas') a very rare bird in this country, about which but little is known; and the Missel Thrush, Shrite, or Storm- cock {Tardas Viscivocus '), the largest, as well as the earliest, of our native songsters, and, next to the sub¬ ject of this paper, the most interesting bird, perhaps of the genus. This bird is common in England, Scot¬ land, and Ireland, where it permanently resides; the number of residents is however greatly increased by large flocks, which generally arrive in October, and depart in May. Its principal food is worms, larvae, and seeds ; it makes a loosely-constructed and bulky nest, which is placed, in thick bushes or in umbrageous trees, being plastered internally with mud, and lined with roots, grass, feathers, and moss; the eggs are four or five in number, flesh-colored, or purplish white, spotted with light brown, or pale purplish red. It has a loud and clear song, somewhat like that of the Blackbird, only less mellow and modulated. Gilbert White has heard it sing as early as the 2nd of Jan¬ uary ; it usually selects a high tree as a place of van¬ tage from whence to pour forth its bold, defiant strain, 144 FAVORITE SONG BIRDS. unci from its habit of singing frequently when the skies are overcast, and even amid the pauses of the hurtling tempest, has been called the Storm-cock. Many poems have been addressed to this bird, but none more appropriate and beautiful than that by Char¬ lotte Smith, a portion of which we here quote : — “ The winter solstice scarce is past, Loud is the wind, and hoarsely sound The mill-streams in the swelling blast, And cold and humid is the ground ; When to the ivy that embowers Some pollard tree, or shelt’ring rock, The troop of timid warblers flock, And shuddering wait for milder hours. While thou! the leader of their band, Fearless salut’st the opening year; Nor stay’st, till blow the breezes bland, That bid the tender leaves appear ! But on one tow’ring elm or pine, Waving elate thy dauntless wing, That joy’st thy love-notes wild to sing, Impatient of St. Valentine ! Go, herald of the spring ! while yet No harebell scents the woodland lane Nor star wort fair, nor violet, Braves the bleak gust and driving rain ; ’Tis thine, as through the copses rude, Some passive wanderer sighs along, To soothe him with a cheerful song. And tell of Hope and Fortitude ! ” . - ir THE WOODLARK. irk, how the wood land echoes all reply Unto that sweetly modulated voice; grassy tuft har d by. While in.low hash, or The Woodlark bids his brooding mate rejoice, | i ! I 145 THE WOODLARK. Alauda Arborea, Linnaeus , TemmincJc, and Macgillivray. Alouette des Bois ou Cujelicr, Ih/ffon. Die Waldlerche, Bechstein. ** Dost thou love to hear the song birds of spring? Are their notes as voices of joy to thee ? Then fly to the grove where the Woodlarks sing, Rejoicing once more in their vernal glee. The spring time is come, the winter is past, And the Woodlarks’ songs are cheerful once more : Their sorrows are fled with the wintry blast, And soft-flowing lays through the woodlands they pour Forgetful how lately the winter winds blew, And they sung the sad notes of their plaintive lu-!u.” irILL our readers accept the invitation thus fti poetically given by the author of the u Min- >J4> strelsy of the Woods,” and hasten with us “ to the grove where the Woodlarks sing,” now while the year is in its vernal prime, and while sunshine and showers weave a tissue of crystal and gold, that hangs like a transparent veil about the face of nature, freshening and glorifying it; while the flowers are awaking from their winter sleep, and shedding their perfume upon the gale, that plays with them a little rudely, perchance, but none the less lovingly ; he is frolicsome and boisterous, from very wantonness of spirit; think of the many dark and dreary hours that have passed since he had the bright flowers for his companions, or the sparkling waters to wander over and refresh himself withal; since he had the leafv trees to nestle and whisper amid, and the sunshine to L 146 FAVORITE SOUG BIRDS. gladden and warm him, so that in the absence of all things that could make him pleasant and cheerful, he grew a very misanthrope, taking delight in howling, and yelling, and making the most dismal noises around the habitations of men ; in bursting open doors and windows, and rushing through key-holes and cre¬ vices, and sweeping round corners with savage fury, and taking all sorts of advantages of exposed and de¬ fenceless creatures. Think, we say, of the dreariness and desolation amid which he has dwelt for the last four months, and wonder not that he should be a little sharp and cutting at times, even yet, and a little rude and boisterous with his playmates, the delicate blos¬ soms. And the birds, too, he loves them well, and often raises his voice, now clear and shrill, now low and murmuring, in unison with their varying strains, which he bears afar o’er hill and valley; and in the notes of none does he take a greater pleasure than in those of the gentle Woodlarks, that are now again filling the yet partially leafless grove with their “ snatches of sweet song,” and preparing for their parental cares and duties: — “ With kindred and clan they mingle the strain. And love by the birds of their race to abide; And they come to their forest haunts again, To build their low nests by the green hill-side. When the stormy winds unroof their retreat, And wither the wreaths of their summer bowers, Then afar in the valley the wanderers meet, And seek to beguile the sad wintry hours ; While chilled by the night wind, and bathed by the dew. They chant in soft concert, their plaintive lu-lu At the close of autumn, these Larks congregate in small flocks in the open fields, seeking for food j, then THE WOODLARK. 147 it is that their melodious warble is no longer heard, as they utter instead, a low melancholy cry, resem¬ bling the syllables, lu lu, hence Cuyier has applied to this bird the term Alauda lulu. Unlike the skylark, which loves the open fields, and rains down its flood of melody where no shadow intercepts the golden sun¬ shine, the Woodlark delights to dwell amid the plea¬ sant shelter of the umbrageous wood, and sing in the leafy solitude afar from man. Sometimes from the top, or amid the thick lower boughs of a tall tree, but oftener, perhaps, hovering on the wing above its nest, does it pour forth those strains, which for sweet¬ ness and richness, Wood considers to be scarcely in¬ ferior to those of the Brake Nightingale, or G-arden Eauvet, although for variety and execution, he con¬ fesses them to be surpassed by several other songsters. Bechstein excepts only the Nightingale and Chaf¬ finch, and pronounces this, of all Larks, the sweetest songster, and with these exceptions, of all birds the most delightful, which retain their natural song. This is high praise, but it appears to be borne out by the concurrent testimony of Bolton, who tells us that some bird fanciers prefer it even to the Nightingale, with which it sometimes contends for superiority in song, invading even those hours which are generally considered sacred to the queen of feathered vocalists : ** What time the timorous hare limps forth to feed, When the scared owl skims round the grassy mead ; Then high in air, and poised upon his wings, Unseen, the soft enamored Woodlark sings.” The truth of this statement is confirmed by Blythe, toho says that* “in hot summer nights, Woodlarks 148 FAVORITE SONG BIRDS. soar to a prodigious height, and hang singing in the air.” It has been a matter of dispute, whether the term Woodwele, or Woodwale, used by some old authors, refers to this bird, or to a species of Thrush. In the ballad of “Bobin Hood,” we hear it said, that—- “ The Woodwele sang and would not cease, •Sitting upon the spray, So loud, he wakened Robin Hood, In the greenwood where he lay.” And again, in the rhyme of “ True Thomas,” the name occurs in a somewhat lengthened form,— “ I heard the Jay and the Throstell, The Mavis mendyn her song: The Woodweleber yd as a bell, That the wood about me ronge.” “ Yd as a bell,” that is clear as a bell, may the sweet note of this gentle bird be well called; in some versions of old poetry, Woodweete is the name given to it; in the early editions of Chaucer we believe this term occurs ; and now we mention this earliest of English poets, and true lover of nature, we cannot refrain from quoting what he says about the love of freed’bm inherent in the feathered creatures, “ -which men feed in cages; For. though they, day and night, tend them like pages, And strew the bird’s room fair and soft as silk, And give them sugar, honey, bread, and milk ; Yet right anon, let hut the door he up, And with his feet he spurneth down the cup, And to the wood will be, and feed on worms.” Thus the original text is rendered by Leigh Hunt, who adds in a note, these remarks :— “ Tlic beautiful and true picture of the bird, ‘ spurning down 11 5 cup,’ furnishes a charming variation of a simile which Chaucer THE WOODLARK. 149 is fond of. All the strength and springing quickness of a bird’s legs, and all the tendencies of his nature, are in the word spurning thus applied; and the immediate object of the action is implied by the word down. AVe see the next moment he will be triumphantly up in the air. Thus write great poets.” To this we can hut add the eloquent plea for liberty, which James Montgomery makes the very bird of which we are writing utter “ Thv notes are silenced and thy plumage mew’d; Say, drooping minstrel, both shall be renew’d. —Voice will return,—I cannot choose but sing; Yet liberty atone can plume my wing; Oh ! give me that!—I will not, cannot fly. Within a cage less ample than the sky; Then shalt thou hear, as if an angel sung, Unseen in air, heaven’s music from my tongue: Oh ! give me that,—I cannot rest at ease On meaner perches than the forest trees; There, in thy walk, while evening shadows roll, My song shall melt into thine inmost soul; But, till thou let thy captive bird depart, The sweetness of my strain shall wring thy heart.” Against the practice of caging birds, larks in par¬ ticular, we would take every opportunity of uttering our indignant protest: and therefore do we once again venture to remind our readers of the utter inconsis¬ tency of a state of confinement with the natural habits and propensities of these free-winged creatures, which were meant to soar without- let or hindrance, far up into the blue serene, and to sport and sing at large amid the green fields and the leafy woodlands. We never could understand how men could reconcile it to their consciences to circumscribe the happy flight of the beautiful and joyous songsters. Even if the selfish gratification of hearing them sing were the 150 FAYORITE SONG BIRDS. only consideration, surely this must be greatly heigh¬ tened by the natural adjuncts of rustling boughs, and perfume-laden breezes, and all the glories and beauties of creation, which surround them in their sylvan homes; there you have not one poor pining prisoner doing his best to beguile the dreary hours of captivity, but a whole concert, and not of birds only, but of other free creatures, which go to make up the happy round of existence, all enjoying life as God intended they should, and ministering to your pleasure at the same time. “ Hark ! ” says the old dramatist, Ben Jons on,— “ Hark! how each bough a several music yields; The lusty Throstle, early Nightingale, Accord in tune, though vary in their tale : The chirping Swallow, called forth by the sun. And crested Lark, doth her division run. The yellow Bees the air with music fill, The Finches carol and the Turtles bill.” The Woodlark, though not very numerous in any localitv, is to be found in most of the wooded dis- «/ * tricts of England ; it may also be met with in Wales, and, according to Thompson, in Ireland, being resi¬ dent in the counties of Down and Antrim. It has been included by several naturalists among the birds of [Scotland, although Macgilliyray expresses a doubt as to whether it has been really met with in that country. In the northern countries of Europe, it appears as a summer visitant only, while in Ger¬ many, Holland, Erance, and Italy, it is, as with us, a permanent resident, being found, as Bechstein says, principally in pine forests, in plains where there are fields and meadows in the vicinity, frequenting also THE WOODLARK. 151 mountainous districts, and visiting alternately heaths and meadows. The food of the bird consists in sum¬ mer of all kinds of insects; in autumn it feeds prin¬ cipally on seeds; and in the spring, when neither of these kinds of food are abundant, on green sprouts, water-cresses, and other tender plants, and sometimes on the catkins of the hazel. Broderip in his “ Zoo¬ logical Recreations,” states, “ that it is a very early songster, and in favorable weather, will begin its melody soon after Christmas.” It also begins to breed early; Col. Montague records the circumstance of having found the nest of this bird, with eggs in it, on the fourth of April. “ Lo, the Place! —by a river whose stream runs along, In a warble as soft as a Nightingale’s song; In whose deeps of clear crystal, the maculate trout, Is seen swiftly darting or sporting about; Here the hill’s gentle slope to the river descends. Which in sinuous course, through the wilderness wends; There, amid lofty rocks, hung with ivy and yew, Doth Echo the wood nymph, her pleasure pursue, And the combe, and the glen, and the shadowy vale, Invite the fond lover to tell his soft tale. The woods and thick copses as mansions of rest, Many warblers oft choose for their home and their nest. A place where content in a cottage might dwell; A place that a hermit might choose for his cell; Where afar from all strife, and all tumult and pride. The nymph, Tranquil Pleasure, delights to reside ; Where in meadow or grove, or the woodlands among, The Birds may be heard in melodious song.” There, reader, is a picture of the home of the Wood¬ lark, drawn by Jennings, in his “ Ornithologia Poe- tica,” wherein are enumerated the various members of the Lark family, or as we should more scientifically say, the genus Alaucla, order Pcisseres , that is, accord- 152 FAVORITE SONG BIRDS. ing to Linnjeus, for some naturalists class them dif¬ ferently, as we have already stated in our chapter on the Skylark. At present it will be most convenient for us to take the Linnsean arrangement, although we shall not venture upon introducing all the fifty species comprehended in this large family group, the members of which are said to be distinguished “ by a sharp-pointed slender bill; nostrils covered partly with feathers and bristles ; tongue cloven at the end ; toes divided to their origin ; claw of the back toe very long, a little crooked ; their motion running, not hopping.” .Besides the Alctuda Arvensis and Arborea (Sky and Woodlark), then, we have to mention, as the most interesting birds of the genus—the Titlark (A Pra- tensis ), which inhabits the greater part of Europe, and is well known in this country, being found principally in low grounds ; it is about five inches and a half long, has a fine note, and sings sitting on trees, or on the ground, where it builds its nest; it has a black bill and yellowish legs ; the prevailing tints of its plumage are a dusky brown, white, and dull yellow, with oblong black spots:—The Meadow-Lark, or old Eield-Lark (A Magna), described by Wilson, as inhabiting North America, from Canada to New Orleans, and having a sweet song, though of limited compass; its plumage is very rich, the throat, breast, and belly being of a bright yellow; its back a bright bay and pale ochre, beautifully variegated with black ; legs and feet pale flesh color, and very large, wanting the straight hind claw, which distinguishes the rest of the genus; its nest is composed of dry grass and fine bent wound all round, and leaving an arched entrance THE WOODLARK. 153 level with the ground on which it is built, in or be¬ neath a thick tuft of grass; the size of this bird, which feeds on insects and various kinds of seeds, is from ten and a half, to sixteen and a half inches; its flesh is much esteemed, being, it is said, little inferior to that of the quail. Then there is the Bock, Dusky, or Sea-Lark, which dwells on the shores of England and other rocky places, and has a note like the chirp of a grasshopper ; it is a solitary bird, and sings little ; size about seven inches long :—The Lesser or Short- heeled, Field, or Meadow-Lark, much like the Titlark, for which it is sometimes mistaken; a spring visitant in this country, about which little seems to be known : —The Lesser Crested-Lark (A Nemorosa or Crisiatci ), an inhabitant of various parts of Europe, about which ornithologists differ greatly; it is said, like the Bull¬ finch, to possess great facility for acquiring tunes played or sung to it:—The Pipit-Lark (A Trivialis ), a small bird, with olive brown and dusky ferruginous plumage:—The Bed or Pennsylvania-Lark (A Rubra), a very rare bird in this country, in size somewhat larger than “ The crested herald of the morn.” with which we are all so familiar. And here we must finish our imperfect catalogue, the details of which being somewhat dry, we will enliven them with a song which Jennings gives as “ The Woodlark’s Invocation. Goddess of the realm of Song! Round whose throne the Warblers throng, From thy bright cerulean sphere. Deign our humble notes to hear! 154 FAVORITE SONG BIRDS. Love demands our earliest lay ;— Love, the monarch of our May Io pmans let us sing While we welcome laughing spring. May, with feet hedropp’d with dew, On yon hill-top is in view; May, whose arch look, winning wiles, Youth on tip-toe oft beguiles. Goddess of the soul of Song! Thou to whom delights belong, Deign to prompt the Warbler’s Lay; - Deign to deck the coming day.” “ Many birds,” says Gilbert White, “ which become silent about Midsummer, resume their notes again in September; as the Thrush, Blackbird, Wood¬ lark, &c.,” and he asks, “are birds induced to sing again, because the temperament of Autumn resembles that of spring?” While Knapp, who accounts for the comparative quietness of our summer months, by stating that “ Those sweet sounds called the songs of birds, proceed only from the male; and with few exceptions only during the season of incubation.;” goes on to pay a well-merited tribute of praise to the little Woodlark, which we quote:— “ The Redbreast, Blackbird, and Thrash, in mild winters, may continually be heard, and form exceptions to the general procedure of our British birds; and we have one little bird, the Woodlark (.Alauda Arborea), that, in the early parts of the autumnal months, delights us with its harmony, and its carols may be heard in the air commonly during the calm sunny mornings of this season. They have a softness and quietness, perfectly in unison with the sober, almost melancholy, stillness of the hour. The Skylark also sings now, and its song is very sweet, full of harmony, cheerful as the blue sky and gladdening beam in which it circles and sports, and known and admired by all; but the voice of the Woodlark is THE "WOODLARK. 155 local—not so generally heard—from its softness, must almost be listened for, to be distinguished, and has not any pretensions to the hilarity of the former. This little bird sings likewise in the spring; but, at that season, the contending songsters of the grove, and the variety of sound proceeding from every thing that has ut¬ terance, confuse and almost render inaudible, the placid voice of the Woodlark. It delights to fix its residence near little groves and copses, or quiet pastures, and is a very unobtrusive bird, not uniting in companies, but associating in its own little family parties only, feeding in the woodlands on seeds and insects. Upon the approach of man, it crouches close to the ground, then suddenly darts away, as if for a distant flight, but settles again almost immediately. This lark will often continue its song, circle in the air, a scarcely visible speck, by the hour "together; and the vast distance from which its voice reaches us in a calm day, is almost incredible. In the scale of comparison it stands immediately below the Nightin¬ gale in melody and plaintiveness; but compass of voice is given to the linnet, a bird of very inferior powers.” Id a Table constructed by Mr. Daines Barring¬ ton to exhibit the comparative merits of the perfor¬ mance of our native Song Birds, in which No. 20 is supposed to be the point of absolute perfection, the qualities of the Woodlark’s strain are thus numbered:— Mellowness of tone, 3 8 ; sprightly notes, 4 ; plaintive notes, 17 ; compass, 12 ; execution, 8. With the Sky¬ lark, the numbers are 4, 19, 4, 1 8, 18.; and with the Titlark, 12 all through : thus placing these three mem¬ bers of the Alauda family very high in the scale of ex¬ cellence. MrniE has well observed that “ the admi¬ rable manner in which the songs of birds are tuned to the characters of their general haunts, so that the song gives life to the scene, and the scene effect to the song, must equally strike and delight even the most casual observer”—then, after sketching out “the soft and 156 FAVORITE SONG BIRDS. bowery vales,” amid which the Nightingale is most commonly and most effectively heard, and “ the open champaign,” overwhieh the Skylark pours his inspiring song, he proceeds thus :— “Nor, though different, is it in worse keeping, if one takes the upland, tracking the line where the grass and heather meet, in order to catch the first light breeze of March upon the hill. The moss by the streaking runnel is in the brightest of its verdure, the daisy on the sward has just shaken off the snow, and caught a drop of kindlier dew, through which its golden eye, surrounded with pearl and tipt with crimson, smiles on the day. The Heath Cock has lain dowm to bask, the Plover and ever-stirring Lapwing are close, or -have not arrived, and the Crow and the Raven are prowling in the coppice below, to clear whatever may have perished there during the storm. There are only a few tiny day-gnats dancing over the pools, which ' are reeking up to form those clouds that will refresh the earth with kindly showers. Thus there is loneliness—perfect solitude ; but the air is fresh, the horizon is ample, the lungs play free, the steps lengthen, and one feels months added to the term of life. While in this mood, up springs the dappled browm Woodlark, warbling his prelude, till he gaips the top of that single ‘ bird-sown’ and scraggy tree, which winds from all points have bent and twisted, only to make its roots strike the deeper, and its wood become as iron, and then, wheeling upward, he redoubles his melody, till all the wild rings again, even when the songster is viewless in the sky : —and one be¬ comes inspired with the free spirit of the hill.” The following remarks on the song of this bird are by the same author, and are too characteristic to be omitted here:— “ When the Woodlark is near trees, it varies its pitch and cadence probably more than the Skylark. It comes from the ground to the. tree in a sort of waving course, singing very low, and giving hut a portion of its brief stave. Then it perches and sings in an uniform key, but not full and round. After a little while, it wheels upward, THE WOODLARK. 157 more wildly and rapidly tlian the Skylark, swelling its song as it ascends, and sometimes rises higher than the ordinary flight of the other, but not generally so high. When it takes the top of its flight, it sends down a volume of song which ia inexpressibly sweet, though there is a feeling of desolation in it. The song, indeed, harmonises well with the situation; and to hear the Woodlark on a wild and lone hill-side, where there is nothing to give accompaniment, save the bleating of a flock and the tinkle of a sheep-bell, so distant as hardly to be audible, is certainly equal to the hearing even of those more mellow songs, which are poured forth in richer situations.” Burns, as we have already shown, has borne testi¬ mony to the Woodlark’s power of exciting tender and passionate emotions in the soul of the listener: here is another of his tributes to the bird, which expresses this yet more forcibly than what we have already quoted:— “ O stay, sweet warbling Woodlark stay, Nor quit for me the trembling spray, A hapless lover courts thy lay, Thy soothing fond complaining. Again, again that tender part, That I may catch thy melting art; For surely that wad touch the heart Who kills me wi’ disdaining. Say was thy little mate unkind, And heard thee as the careless wind 1 Oh nocht but love and sorrow join’d Sic notes of woe could wauken. Thou tells o’never-ending care O’speeehless grief, and dark despair ; For pity’s sake, sweet bird nae mair ! Or my poor heart is broken! ” Mudie opines that the reason why Woodlarks are not so numerous in proportion to their eggs as the other species, is that they build in so inclement a season, and in barren exposed places; but this refers 158 FAVORITE SONG BIRDS. more particularly to the bleak and stormy north. “In the high grounds on the skirts of the Grampians es¬ pecially,” he says, “ the nests are liable to be destroyed by those storms of sleet and snow which set in some¬ times as late as the middle of May, or even the begin¬ ning of June.” Macgillivray, who seems to be in error, when he states that “ it does not clearly appear that the bird has been met with in Scotland,” describes the nest as placed on the ground among grass and corn, composed externally of dry grass, and lined with finer blades intermixed with hair : the eggs, four or five in number, are of a pale yellowish-brown, freckled with umber or greenish-brown ; size, nine-twelfths of an inch long, seven-twelfths broad. Neville Wood observes that this nest very seldom occurs near houses, and is not met with, like that of the Tree Pipit, amongst long grass in woods, or in groves where the ground herbage is not luxuriant, but rises here and there into tufts and patches; in these,—in districts where the species is plentiful—you may confidently search for its grassy couch. Hdrdis’s lines on a Bird’s Nest have been often quoted ; nevertheless we must give them a place here: — “ But most of all it wins my admiration, To view the structure of this little work, A bird’s nest. Mark it well, within, without; No tool had he that wrought, no knife to cut, No nail to fix, no bodkin to insert, No glue to join : his little beak was all, And yet how neatly finished. "What nice hand, With every implement and means of art, And twenty years’ apprenticeship to boot, Could make me such another ? Fondly then We boast of excellence, whose noblest skill Instinctive genius foils.” THE WOODLARK. 159 No more appropriate conclusion to this chapter can be found than those beautiful verses by William Howitt, wherein he embodies the fresh feelings and associations of early days called up by the sight of— “ Birds’ Nests. Spring is abroad! the Cuckoo’s note Floats o’er the flowery lea ; Yet nothing of the mighty sea Her welcome tones import: Nothing of lands where she has been, Of fortunes she has known ; The joy of this remember’d scene, Breathes in her song alone. No traveller she, whose vaunting boast Tells of each fair but far oft’ coast: She talks not here of Eastern skies. But of home and its pleasant memories. Spring is abroad! a thousand more Sweet voices are around, Which yesterday a farewell sound Gave to some Foreign shore ; I know not where—it matters not; To-day their thoughts are bent, To pitch in some sequester’d spot, Their secret summer tent; Hid from the glance of urchins’ eyes, Si Peering already for the prize; While daily, hourly intervene The clustering leaves, a closer screen. —. In bank, in bush, in hollow hole, High on the rocking tree, * On the gray cliffs that haughtily • The ocean waves control; "3 Far in the solitary fen, On heath, and mountain hoar, 1 Beyond the foot or fear of men, -- Or by the cottage door; J In grassy tuft, in ivy’d tower, Where’er directs the instinctive power. Or loves each jocund pair to dwell, Is built the cone or feathery cell. 160 EAYORITE SONG BIRDS. Beautiful things ! than I, no boy Your traces may discern, Sparkling beneath the forest fern, With livelier sense of joy : I would not hear them from the nest, To leave fond hearts regretting; But, like the soul screened in the breast, Like gems in beauteous setting, Amidst Spring’s leafy, green array I deem them; and, from day to day, Passing, I pause, to turn aside, With joy, the boughs where they abide. The mysteries of life’s early day Lay thick as summer dew, Like it, they glitter’d and they flew, With ardent youth away : But not a charm of yours has faded, Ye are full of marvel still. Now jewels cold, and now pervaded With heavenly fire, ye thrill And kindle into life, and bear Beauty and music through the air : The embryos of a shell to-day ; To-morrow, and—away! away! Methinks, even as I gaze, there springs Life from each tinted cone ; And wandering thought has onward flown With speed-careering wings, To lands, to summer lands afar, To the mangrove, and the palm; To the region of each stranger star Led by a blissful charm : Like toys in beauty here they lay— They are gone o’er the sounding ocean’s spray; They are gone to bowers and skies more fair, And have left us to our march of care.” THE WREN . .A perl and lively bird die .Ieriny Wren, Her house she buildelh with a concave dome. And by the trodden ways and haunts of men. Full often sings her song, and makes her home ,161 THE WEEN. Motacilla Troglodytes, Linrueus. Sylvia Troglodytes, Temmmck. Anortliura Troglodytes, Macgillivray. Roitelet, Buffon. Der Zaunkonig, Bechstein. “ Why is the Cuckoo’s melody preferred, And Nightingale’s rich song so fondly praised In poets’ rhymes ? Is there no other bird Of Nature’s minstrelsy that oft hath raised One’s heart to ecstacy and mirth so well 1 I judge not how another’s taste is caught; With mine are other birds that bear the bell, W hose song hath crowds of happy memories brought; Such the wood Robin singing in the dell, And little "Wren that many a time hath sought Shelter from showers in huts where I may dwell, In early Spring, the tenant of the plain Tending my sheep, and still they come to tell The happy stories of the past again.” .j/T is thus that the Peasant Poet of Northamp- V tonshire, John Clare, writes of the little G£J Jenny Wren, a familiar and favorite songster in almost every part of Europe, being more abundant even in the bleak north, than in the sunny south ; in¬ habiting the pine forests of Sweden and Norway, and singing its cheerful strains to the wild winds that sweep around the stormy Hebrides and Faroe Isles, and to the waves that tumultuously dash upon the inhospitable shores of Iceland and Greenland; sporting amid the myrtle groves of Spain and Italy; and feeding upon the ripe figs of Smyrna and Trebizond:—the little Jenny Wren, that we all know and love, almost—may we not say quite F—as well as we do “ The household bird with the red stomacher.” 162 EAYORITE SONG BIRDS. George Darley, in his Dramatic Chronicle of Athel- stan, makes Edgitha sav— “ The Wren’s voice, Though weak, preserveth lightsome tone and tenor. Ne’er sick with joy like the still hiecuping swallow, Ne’er like the Nightingale’s, with grief.” And here we have a distinct impression of the uni¬ formly cheerful, though never very hilarious, song of the Wren, which Bechstein describes as “ pleasing and varied, and for the size of the bird, of great power, consisting of loud notes gradually falling.” Michael Drayton, when he wishes to make up an agreeable company of feathered choristers, says— “ And by that warbling bird, the Woodlark, place we then, The Reed-sparrow, the Nope, the Redbreast, and the Wren.” And a very delightful concert no doubt such would be : the Nope, it should be mentioned, is an old local name * for the Bullfinch. Perhaps the reason why the song of this little bird has been especially admired and commended, is that it may be heard when all, or nearly all, other feathered songsters are silent. Gilbert White observes that, “ Wrens sing all the winter through, frost excepted and Blythe adds, “ in frosty weather also, when the sun shines.” While Graiiame says,— “ Beside the Redbreast's note, one other strain, One summer strain, in wintry days is heard. Amid the leafless thorn the merry Wren, When icicles hang dripping from the’rock, Pipes her perennial lay; even when the flakes Broad as her pinions fall, she lightly flies Athwart the shower, and sings upon the wing.” To this we may very appropriately add the fine moral lines in reference to this bird, introduced by Bishop THE WEEN. 163 Mant into his description of the month of No¬ vember : — “ The quick note of the nisset Wren, Familiar to the haunts of men, He quits in hollow’d wall his bow’r. And thro’ the winter’s gloomy hour Sings cheerily : nor yet hath lost His blitheness, chill’d by pinching frost; Nor yet is forc’d for warmth to cleave To cavern’d nook, or strawbuilt eave. Sing, little bird 1 Sing on, design’d A lesson for our anxious kind; That we, like thee, with heart’s content Enjoy the blessings God hath sent; His bounty trust, perform his will, Nor antedate uncertain ill! ” To the same effect is likewise the testimony of Wood, who says of this bird, that— “The song is short in stave, shrill, and remarkably loud in propor¬ tion to the size of the bird. It may perhaps be ranked amongst the most trivial of our feathered choristers, but the notes are more prized than they would otherwise be, on account of their being frequently heard in mid-winter, when a mere scream would almost seem sweet, especially if it proceeded from the throat of so tiny a bird as the Ivy Wren And thus, insignificant and humble (with regard to musical merit) as are its strains, I always listen to them with delight in the dreary seasons, though we are apt to overlook them altogether in fairer times. In fact, interesting as are some of the habits of this species, it always conveys to one’s mind the idea of cold and of winter faggots, even in the midst of summer. It often commences singing so early as January, mostly taking its stand on a heap of sticks, a log of wood, a hedge abounding with dead under-wood, or a currant bush. Were it not that the bird is generally so conspic¬ uous, it would be difficult to believe that the notes proceed from a creature of such small dimensions, so loud and clear are they.” We may also quote Wateeton who, in his usual happy manner, gives, in a few words, a sketch of our little brisk favorite’s characteristics ; — 164 FAVORITE SONG BIRDS. “ The Wren is at once distinguished in appearance from out smaller British songsters by the erect position of its tail. Its rest¬ lessness, too, renders its particularly conspicuous; for, when we look at it, we find it so perpetually on the move, that I cannot recollect to have observed this diminutive rover at rest on a branch for three minutes in continuation. Its habits are solitary to the fullest extent of the word ; and it seems to bear hard weather better than either the Hedge-sparrow or the Kobin ; for whilst these two birds approach our habitations in quest of food and shelter, with their plumage raised as indicative of cold, the Wren may be seen in ordinary pursuit, amid icicles which hang from the bare roots of shrubs and trees, on the banks of the neighbouring rivulets; and amongst these roots, it is particularly fond of building its oval nest. The ancients called the Wren, Troglodytes; but it is now honoured with the high-sounding name of Anorthura; alleging for a reason, that the ancients were quite mistaken in their supposition that this bird was an inhabitant of caves, as it is never to be seen within them. Methinks that the ancients were quite right,—and that our modern masters in ornithology are quite wrong. If we only for a moment reflect, that the nest of the Wren is spherical, and is of itself, as it were, a little cave, we can easily imagine that the ancients, on seeing the bird going in and out of this artificial cave, considered the word Troglodytes an appropriate appellation.” This little bird, we may add in continuation, which— “ When icicles hang dripping from the rock, Pipes her perennial lay,” begins to build very early in the spring, fixing its nest sometimes under the thatch of a building, sometimes on the side of a moss-covered tree, or under an im¬ pending bank “ the materials of the nest,” as Mon¬ tague remarks, “ being generally adapted to the place ; if built against the side of a hay-rick, it is com¬ posed of twigs ; if against the side of a tree, covered with white moss, it is made of that material ; and with green moss, if against a tree covered with the same. THE WHEN. 165 Thus instinct directs it for security.” Jesse, in his “ Gleanings,” mentions that “lie has a Wren’s nest in his possession built amongst some litter thrown into a yard. It so nearly resembled the surrounding ob¬ jects, that it was only discovered by the bird’s flying out of it.” Some of the straws of which this nest was composed, were so thick, that it was a wonder how so small a bird could have used them. And is it not wonderful, altogether, the intuitive skill of these tiny architects, that become so perfect in their art, without any previous training or preparation ? It would seem, too, that in the construction of this abode of love, the labor is properly apportioned, one bird not interfering with that department of the duty which the other has, as it were by agreement, undertaken to perform, for a correspondent of the “ Magazine of Natural History ” relates, that in watching a pair of Wrens building their nest in an old road, he observed that one con¬ fined itself to the construction of the nest, and the other to the collection of materials, which it regularly delivered to the master builder, and never attempted to put into their proper places. And well constructed is the shapely little structure, little to us, but large in proportion to the birds which are to tenant it; lined within with feathers, or some other soft substance. We may address the parent bird in the words of an anonymous poet quoted by Wood-:— “ Within thy warm and mossy cell, Where scarce ’twould seem thyself could dwell, Twice eight, a speckled brood we tell, Nestling beneath thy wing ! And still unwearied, many a day, Thy little partner loves to stay, Perched on some trembling timber spray, Beside his mate to sing.” 166 FAVORITE SONG 33IEDS. From among many other anecdotes illustrative of the sagacity, if we may so call it, of this bird, we meet with the following by Knapp, whose concluding remarks are worthy of serious thought and attention. “ June 14.—I was much pleased this day hy detecting the stra¬ tagems of a common Wren to conceal its nest from observation. It had formed a hollow space in the thatch, on the inside of my cow¬ shed, in which it had placed its nest by the side of a rafter, and finished it with its usual neatness; hut lest the orifice of its 'cell should engage attention, it had negligently hung a ragged piece of moss on the straw-work, concealing the entrance, and appa¬ rently proceeding from the rafter; and so perfect was the decep¬ tion, that I should not have noticed it, though tolerably observant of such things, had not the bird betrayed her secret, and darted out. Now from what operative cause did this stratagem proceed? Habit it was not;—it seemed like an after-thought;—danger was per¬ ceived, and the contrivance which a contemplative being would have provided, was resorted to. The limits of instinct we cannot define: it appeared the reflection of reason. This procedure may be judged perhaps, a trifling event to notice; hut the ways and motives of creatures are so little understood, that any evidence which may assist our research should not be rejected. Call their actions as we may, they have the effect of reason; and loving all the manners and operations of these directed beings, I have noted this, simple as it may be.” The Wren builds twice a year, in April and June, and its brood is a large one, ranging from ten to eighteen ; the eggs are of a roundish form, white and spotted, near the larger end, with a slight sprinkling of small faint red spots; that is, according to Bolton: by Macgillivray - they are described as in shape an elongated oval; in size, eight twelfths of an inch long, by six twelfths broad ; in color, pure white, with scat¬ tered dots of light red. This author also describes THE WREN. 167 the nest as enormously large, roundish or oblong, com¬ posed chiefly of moss, and lined with feathers. Eennie observes that the Wren does not begin at the bottom of its nest first, as is usual with most birds; but if against a tree, first traces the outline of the nest, w r hich is of an oval shape, and by that means fastens it equally strong to all parts; and afterwards encloses the sides and top, near which it leaves a small hole for an entrance: if the nest is placed under a bank, the top is first begun, and well secured in some cavity, by which the fabric is suspended. We will now quote Gtrahame’s poetical description of this curious piece of bird architecture: — “ The little woodland dwarf, the tiny Wren, That from the root-sprigs trills her ditty clear. Of stature most diminutive herself, Not so her wondrous.house; for, strange to tell! Her’s is the largest structure that is formed By tuneful hill and breasf. ’Neath some old root, From which the sloping soil, by wintry rains, Has been all worn away, she fixes up Her curious dwelling, close and vaulted o’er, And in the side a little gateway porch, In which (for I have seen) she’ll sit and pipe A merry stare of her shrill roundelay. Nor always does a single gate suffice For exit, and for entrance to her dome; For when ^as sometimes haps) within a bush, She builds the artful fabric, then each side Flas its own portico. But, mark within ! How skilfully the finest plumes and downs Are softly warped ; how closely all around The outer layers of moss ! each circumstance Most artfully contrived to favour warmth ! Here read the reason of the vaulted roof; Here Providence compensates, ever kind, The enormous disproportion that subsists Between the mother and the numerous brood, W r hich her small bulk must quicken into life. Fifteen white spherules, small as moorland hare-bell. 168 FAVORITE SO:SG BIRDS- And prettily byspcckcd like fox-glove flower. Complete her number. Twice five days she site-. Fed by her partner, never flitting off, Save when the morning sun is high, to drink. A dewdrop from the nearest flowret cup. But now behold the greatest of this train Of miracles, stupendously minute; The numerous progeny, claimant for food. Supplied by two small bills, and feeble wings Of narrow range ; supplied, aye, duly fed, Fed in the dark, and yet not one forgot! ” The latter of these lines are but a poetical paraphrase of an observation of an English naturalist, we think it was Willoughby, who said, “ It is strange to admi¬ ration, that so small a bodied bird should feed such a company of young, and not miss one bird, and that in the dark also.” Ray ranks this circumstance among “those daily miracles of which we take no notice.” These observations arc censured bv Mr, J Bolton, who says, that “any one who thinks about it, and compares the dimensions of the window with those of the house within, will instantly perceive that a Wren’s nest, is more strongly lighted than any palace in the kingdom.” But this naturalist, in his haste to find fault with others, has quite overlooked the cir¬ cumstance, that the parent bird, while feeding her numerous family, stands in the entrance of her dwel- ling, and must therefore in a great measure exclude the light. All this, however, is mere quibbling, from which we gladly turn to quote Wordsworth’s exqui¬ sitely beautiful lines on “ A When’s Nest. Among the dwellings framed by birds. In field or forest with nice care, Is none that with the little Wren’s. In snugness may compare. THE WEEN. 169 No door the tenement requires, And seldom needs a laboured roof; Yet is it to the fiercest sun Impervious and storm-proof. So warm, so beautiful withal, In perfect fitness for its aim, That to the Kind by special grace Their instinct surely came. And when for their abodes they seek An opportune recess, The Hermit has no finer eye For shadowy quietness. These find, ’mid ivied Abbey walls, A canopy in some still nook ; Others are pent-housed by a brae That overhangs a brook. There to the brooding Bird her Mate Warbles by fits his low clear song; And by the busy Streamlet both Are sung to all day long. Or in sequestered lanes they build, Where, till the flitting Bird’s return, Her eggs within the nest repose, Like relics in an urn. But still, where general choice is good, There is a better and a best; And, among fairest objects, some Are fairer than the rest; This, one of those small builders proved In a green covert, where, from out The forehead of a pollard oak, The leafy antlers sprout; For She who planned the mossy Lodge, Mistrusting her evasive skill, Had to a primrose looked for aid Her wishes to fulfil. High on the trunk’s projecting brow. And fixed an infant’s span above The budding flowers, peeped forth the nest The prettiest of the grove ! 170 FAVORITE SONG BIRDS. The treasure proudly did I show To some whose minds without disdain Can turn to little things, but once Looked up for it in vain : ’Tis gone—a ruthless Spoiler’s prey, Who heeds not beauty, love, or song, ’Tis gone! (so seemed it) and we grieved Indignant at the wrong. Just three days after, passing by In clearer light the moss-built cell I saw, espied its shaded mouth, And felt that all was well. The Primrose for a veil had spread The largest of her upright leaves; And thus, for purposes benign, A simple Flower deceives. Concealed from friends who might disturb Thy quiet with no ill intent, Secure from evil eyes and hands On barbarous plunder bent. Rest, mother-bird! and when thy young Take flight, and thou art free to roam, When withered is the guardian flower, And empty thy late home, Think how ye prospered, thou and thine, Amid the unviolated grove, Housed near the growing primrose tuft, In foresight, or in love.” We scarcely think that sufficient attention has been called to the services rendered by this diminutive songster to man, in a way to which special allusion is made in the following paragraph from “ Times Teles¬ cope,” where it appears without any author’s name attached: — “ As a devourer of pernicious insects, one of the most useful birds is the house Wren. This little bird seems peculiarly fond of the society of man, and it must be confessed that it is often protected by his interested care. It has long been a custom, in many parts T1IE WEEK. 171 of the country, to fix a small box at tho end of a long pole, in gar¬ dens, about houses, &c. as a place for it to build in. In these boxes they build and hatch their young. When the young are hatched the parent birds feed them with a variety of different insects, par¬ ticularly such as are injurious in gardens. An intelligent gentle¬ man was at the trouble to observe the number of times a pair of these birds came from their box, and returned with insects for their young. He found that they did this from forty to sixty times in an hour; and, in one particular hour, the birds carried food to their young seventy-one times. In this business they were engaged the greater part of the day; say twelve hours. Taking the medium, therefore, of fifty times in an hour, it appeared that a single pair of .these birds took from the cabbage, salad, beans, peas, and other vegetables in the garden, at least, six hundred insects in the course of one day. This calculation proceeds upon the supposition, that the two birds took only a single insect each time. But it is highly probable they often took several at a time.” The Common Wren, we are informed by Broderip, is too often shot by sportsmen for the sake of his tail feathers, which when skillfully manipulated, admirably represent a spider, which forms a good bait for trout. “ The bird may be followed,” he says, “ up and down the hedge row, till it will suffer itself to be taken by the hand. Then borrow—steal if you will—two or three of the precious feathers — but let the little warbler go to enjoy its liberty, and furnish ‘Wrens’ tails ’ for another year.” We should, however, pro¬ test not merely against depriving the poor little bird of its life or liberty, but of those tail feathers which are so ornamental and peculiarly distinctive ; and that, too, for the purpose of inflicting suffering upon other of God’s creatures. No, let the brisk little Kitty Wren, as she is sometimes called, go free and un¬ scathed, and pirk up her tail, unshorn of its natural and proper dimensions. Like Wharton, who sings,— 172 FAVORITE SONG BIRDS. “ Fast by my couch, congenial guest, The Wren has wove her mossy nest, From busy scenes and brighter skies, To lurk with innocence she flies.”— We love so well to watch tlie lively motions, and to listen to the sprightly strains of this bird, that we would not have it molested, much less injured, for worlds. Let it sing on and build its domed retreat, and feed and rear its tender fledglings : if we ques¬ tion of its happiness amid domestic cares and duties, how will it answer ? According to James Mont¬ gomery, thus,— .. “ Wren canst thou squeeze into a hole so small? —Aye, with nine nestlings too, and room for all; Go, compass sea and land in search of bliss, Then tell me if you find a happier home than this.” By and by we shall see the queer little objects which now open their bills to such an amazing extent, to receive the insect food which their parents so unre¬ mittingly bring them, essay their tiny wings— “ As little Wrens but newly fledge, First by their nests hop up and down the hedge; Then one from bough to bough gets up a tree, His fellow, noting his agility, Thinks he as -well may venture as the other, So flustering from one spray to another, Gets to the top, and then, emboldened, flies Unto an height past ken of human eyes.” As quaint old William Browne describes it. But we have tarried too long amid the sylvan haunts of the bird, and must now proceed to another part of our subject; before doing this, however, we would fain place before our readers a sweet little cabinet picture drawn by Douglas Allport :— “ Hard by those pales with lichens dyed, That bound the Spinney’s southern side, THE WEEN. 173 O’er which a sapless elder throws Its rusty stem and random boughs, A clear cold streamlet brawls along, And there the mossy stems restrain, Its puny force, and strive in vain, To still its ceaseless song; But babbling yet it winds its way, Hid from the piercing eye of day, By woods that o’er its margin bending, A holy calm and quiet lending, Wanton in every breeze, and throw Their shadows in the flood below; And there an aged whitethorn grows Bow’d down by time, and bare, and grey, And hark ! to break the still repose, The piping Wren, from spray to spray On restless wing for ever springing, Twitters throughout the livelong day. Amidst the scanty foliage winging— Scared by the traveller’s tread,—its way.” The Wren has a short and feeble flight, it is there¬ fore easily hunted down, and in Ireland there is a cruel practice prevalent, of chasing the poor little bird from hedge to hedge, and beating it to death with sticks. This barbarous custom appears to be very ancient, its origin being lost in the regions of fable. Mr. Thompson, writing on the Birds of Ireland, in¬ troduces a note to this effect—“To hunt the Wren on Christmas-day is a favorite pastime of the peasantry of Kerry. This they do, each using two sticks, one to beat the bushes, the other to fling at the bird. It was the boast of an old man who lately died at the age of one hundred, that he had hunted the Wren for the last eighty years on a Christmas-day. On St. Ste¬ phen’s day the children exhibit the slaughtered birds in an ivy bush, decked with ribbons of various colors, singing the well-known song, and thus collect money.” 174 FAYORITE S02sG BIRDS. Iii Hall’s “ Ireland,” we have a full account given of this silly custom, with the following version of the “ Wren-boy’s song ” as it is called, a composition not at all remarkable for poetic merit:— “ Tli^ Wran, the Wran, the king of all birds, St. Stephen’s day was cot in the furze, Although he is little, his family’s grate, Put your hand in your pocket, and give us a thrate.' Sing holly, sing ivy,—sing ivy, sing holly, A drop just to drink it will drown melancholy. And if you dhraw it ov the best I hope in heaven your soul will rest; And if you dhraw it ov the small, It won’t agree with de Wren-boys at all.” According to one tradition, it is said, that in the “ ould ancient times,” when the Irish were about to catch their Danish enemies asleep, a Wren flew upon a drum, and by the sound of it awoke the slumbering sentinels, just in time to give the alarm, and save the whole army, in consequence of which the little bird was proclaimed a traitor, and his life declared forfeit¬ ed, wherever he was henceforward found. As to the origin of the imperial dignity conferred upon him in the opening line of the chant,— “ The Wran the Wran, the king of all birds,” it may very reasonably be attributed to this legend :— Once upon a time, in a grand assembly of all the birds of the air, it was determined that the sovereignty of the feathered tribes should be conferred upon the one who could fly highest. None questioned that the Eagle would be the successful competitor, and this majestic bird at once commenced his sunward flight, in the full confidence of victory : when he had left the other winged aspirants for the kingship far below, and THE WRE2V 175 attained an altitude which they could not hope to reach, he proclaimed triumphantly his monarchy over the feathered creation: short-lived, however, was his triumph; for the little Wren who had hidden his tiny form under the feathers of the Eagle’s crest, stepped from his hiding place, and flying up a few inches higher, chirp’d as loudly as he could— “ Birds look up and behold your king - , Great of soul, though a tiny thing.” Macgiliyrat places the Common Brown, or Eu¬ ropean Wren, as it is sometimes called, in a genus by itself, which he distinguishes by the euphoneous title Anorthura , this is not quite such a crooked name as Troglodytes, by which most naturalists distinguish the species, after the ancient designation of a people who lived in caves. Of the Wood-Wrens, another genus called Phyllop- neuste , there are four kinds known to us, viz., the Yellow AVood-AVren (P. Sylvicola ), called by the Scotch, AVillie Muftis; the AVillow AVood-AVren (P. Trochilus ), sometimes called the AVillow-AVarbler, Ground-AVren, Hay-Bird, or Huckmuck; the Short¬ winged Wood-AVren, or Chiff-chaff (P. Hippolais), also called the Chip-chap and Least Willow-Wren. Then we have the genus Tegulus, including the Eire- crowned Kinglet (P. Ignicapillus) , and the Gold- crowned Kinglet (P. Auricapillus) t sometimes called the Marigold Einch, but most commonly known as the Golden-crested AVren, the smallest of British song birds, some of whose habits and peculiarities we have endeavoured to describe in the following lines: — 176 FAVORITE SONG BIRDS. ’Mid the shadow of the pines, flitting here and there, Lo! the Golden-crested Wren glanceth through the air, Like a fieiy meteor, or a shooting star, The tiniest of creatures that in the forests are. Never still a moment—whisking to and fro— Now amid the topmost houghs, now the roots below ; Now he perks his feathers up, now he twinks his eye, Now emits a warble low, now a short sharp cry. I>o ! the Golden-crested Wren, he’s a happy bird, Dwelling ’mid the solitude, where the boughs are stirred By the gentle breezes, stealing in and out, He their tuneful whispers understands, no doubt. Soft and solemn music he hath ever near, Like angelic voicings from a better sphere; Kind and tender greetings from his wedded love, And the gentle cooings of the Cushat dove. Hath he not the Magpie, and the laughing .Taj", And the playful Squirrel—all to make him gay / Pleasant sights and perfumes—hath he not all these, And bright gleams of sunshine, breaking through the trees ? As the tufted pine cones sporteth he among, Cometh not the Wild-Bee murmuring a song, Where around his dwelling, tassels all of gold, Make it like a palace gorgeous to behold 1 When the tempest riseth, and the winds roar loud. And the haughty pine trees unto earth are bowed, Lo ! secure he lyeth in his feathered nest, Fearing nought of danger, —perfectly at rest. Yes, he leads a pleasant life—doth the Crested Wren, Far away from noisy towns and the haunts of men; If no duties bound me—were I free to roam— Gladly would I visit him, in his sylvan home. "1 THE BLACKCAP When .April showers are freshrung all the woods, Then first is heard the Bladccap's dulcet strain,; When Autumn gales are sweeping o'er the floods. She leaves ns for a milder clime again. r,'\h-S c 177 THE BLACKCAP. Motacilla Atricapilla, Linnosus. Sylvia Atricapilla, Temminck and Macgil- livray. Fauvette a tete Noir, Buffon . Die Schwarzkopfige Grasmiicke, Bechstein. “ Fain, ’mid the hawthorn’s budding boughs, Or where the dark green ivy shows Its purple fruit the foliage through, Would I the early Blackcap view; With sable cowl, and amice grey, Arrived from regions far away ; Like palmer from some sainted shrine, Or holy hills of Palestine : And hear his desultory bill Such notes of varying cadence trill, That mimic art, that quavered strain. May strive to match, but strive in vain.” Bishop Mailt. 5 commenced our first chapter with the Night¬ ingale, the universally acknowledged Queen of Song; at the head of our last we place a bird, which is sometimes said to dispute her claim to pre¬ eminence, and is therefore called the Mock Nightingale. This is a migratory species, as our readers will have learned from the above lines : it arrives in our island about the middle of April, and immediately commences a survey and inspection of places fitted for nidification, making choice of the most retired and solitary spots for this purpose. Knapp observes that, “ so careful and suspicious is it, that several selected spots are often abandoned, before the nest is finished, from some apprehension or caprice: all intrusion is jealously N 178 EAYORITE SONG BIRDS. noticed, and during the whole period of sitting and rearing its young, it is timid and restless.” The same author has observed, that “ both birds will occasionally perform the office of incubation,” during which period only, is the melody—which he reckons third in the scale of music, for execution, compass, and mellowness —of the male heard; these visitants wasting no time in amusements, but appearing in great haste to accom¬ plish the object of their visit, and depart; which they generally do somewhat early in September. Our ac¬ count of the Blackcap, or, as the Germans call him, the Monk or Moor, from his sable hood, will be but short, as we wish to include in this chapter several other of the British Songsters, to which we do not consider it necessary to appropriate a separate article, although they are of sufficient importance to call for some slight notice. According to Macgilliybay, this sweet warbler becomes on its arrival generally distributed over England, and may sometimes be found in the south of Scotland, but its love of privacy and retirement render it little known; its nest is loosely constructed, lined with fibrous roots and hair, and placed in the fork of a shrub, or on the ground. The eggs are four or five in number, eight and a half-twelfths of an inch long, seven-twelfths broad ; in color greyish- white, faintly mottled and freckled with purplish-grey, with some streaks of blackish-brown. Bolton says that, “ they are of a pale reddish-brown, mottled with a deeper color, and sprinkled with a few dark spots:” while Bechstein describes them as “ yellowish-white, and sprinkled with brown spots.” This latter author also says that the nest is firm, hemispherical, and well THE BLACKCAP. 179 built; and this agrees with a beautiful illustration of the structure, given in “Harmonia Buralis,” where it is said that in Italy the bird builds twice a year, but in England only once ; and that “ its food is chiefly insects, but in defect of these, it will eat the fruit of the spurge-laurel, service, and ivy, and that it appears to be even fond of the last, frequenting much trees overgrown with it.” Neville "Wood gives rather a sad account of the bird as a garden and orchard depre¬ dator, and says that the best time to observe it, is when the currants and raspberries are ripe, as it is then so intent on its pilfering, as to admit of a much nearer approach than at any other period of it3 sojourn with us. He thus continues— “The song of the Blackcapt Fauvet is, perhaps, not surpassed by any other of the family, with the exception, however, of those of the Brake Nightingale and Garden Fauvet. It is loud, rich, clear, and rapid, and, in its w r ay, almost equals that of the leader of the vernal chorus, the Brake Nightingale. It sings more constant¬ ly than any of its congeners, and indeed it is much more frequently heard than seen. If, however, you will sit upon a mossy bank, shaded with bushes and trees, near the spot from which the song proceeds, it will not be long before you obtain a sight of him, as, w'hen undisturbed, he generally sings in rather a conspicuous station, at the top of a tree. But if you approach incautiously, or hastily, it instantly darts down into the midst of the thickest brake the spot affords, where it will patiently wait your departure. In the mean wdiile, however, for the sake of employment, it will renew its strains even though you be standing within a few yards of it.” Main, writing on British Song Birds in the “ Maga¬ zine of Natural History,” says of this species, that— “ It is the contra-alto singer of the woodland choir. The fine, varied, joyous song of this emigrant is noticed by the most listless N 2 180 FAYOEITE SONG BIRDS. auditor: the strain occupies about three bars of triple time in the performance, and though very frequently repeated, is somewhat varied in every repetition. He begins with two or three short essays of double notes, gradually crescendo up to a loud and full swell of varied expression. One passage often occurs, as truly enunciated as if performed on an octave flute. The style and key of the song are nearly the same in all individuals, though some may he noticed to vary in style. I knew one bird that frequented the same spot of a wood for three summers, who signalized himself by an arrange¬ ment of notes, very much excelling his brethren around. The Blackcap is certainly the finest singer of the whole tribe of warblers, except the Nightingale.” Miss Waring, in her “Minstrelsy of the Woods,” says that this bird is of a most amiable and affection¬ ate temper, and that when taken captive with his family, he will continue to feed the young ones and the female, even forcing the latter to eat, when the misery she experiences from the loss of freedom would lead her to refuse all sustenance. In time he becomes much attached to the person who takes care of him, expressing his affection by particular notes of joy on the approach of such to his cage. Like the Nightin¬ gale, on the approach of the season of emigration, he becomes restless, frequently fluttering his wings against the bars of his prison, and is sometimes so agitated during the autumnal nights, as to die in consequence. We must quote this lady’s sweet lines to the bird: “ Oh! fair befal thee, gay Fauvette, With trilling song and crown of jet; Thy pleasant notes with joy I hail, Floating on the vernal gale. Far hast thou flown on downy wing, To be our guest in early spring : In that first dawning of the year, Pouring a strain as rich and clear As is the Blackbird’s mellow lay, In later hours of flowery May. THE BLACKCAP 181 While April skies to grove and field, Alternate shade and sunshine yield, I hear thy wild and joyous strain, And give thee welcome once again. Come build within my hawthorn bower, And shade thy nurslings with its flower; Or where my wreathed woodbines twine, Make there a home for thee and thine. Now fair befal thee, gay Fauvette, "With trilling song and crown of jet!” By Bttefon, and some other naturalists, this bird has been called a Fauvet: Wood describes four species of Fauvets as British Song Birds, and a very melodious family group they form: these are—1st, the Blackcap Fauvet, (already described); 2nd, the Garden Fauvet, {Sylvia Hortensis), sometimes called the Garden War¬ bler, Petty chaps, or Nettle-creeper; 3rd, the White- throated Fauvet, ($. Cinerea ;), distinguished by a great many names, such as the Greater Whitethroat, Whey-beard, Wheetie-why, Churr, Muff, Beardie, Whattie, &c., &c^; and 4th, the Garrulous Fauvet, (S. Garrula), known as the Lesser Whitethroat, Babillard, and White-breasted, or Babbling Warbler. Of these, the third on the list, the Whitethroat as it is com¬ monly called, is by far the best known, although the Garden Fauvet is more admired for its powers of song, being considered by many judges inferior only to the Nightingale and Blackcap. W ood speaks of its melody as delightfully sweet and mellow, excelling in these particulars even that of its sable-hooded congener; it is most commonly known as the Greater Pettychaps, and is the true Beccajico of the Italians : like the rest of the group, it is migratory, arriving in April and de¬ parting in September; it is described as a very active 182 EAYORITE SONG BIRDS. and lively bird, ever in motion, and flitting about with peculiar gracefulness. “ Come ye, come ye, to the green, green wood, Loudly the Blackbird is singing; The Squirrel is feasting on blossom and bud, And the curled fern is springing. Here you may sleep, in the wood so deep, When the moon is so warm and so weary, And sweetly awake, when the sun through the brake Bids the Fauvet and Whitethroat sing cheery.’* It is thus that William Howitt invites us forth into the woods to listen to the Whitethroat, whose song, says Bechstein, “ consists of numerous agreeable strains given in rapid succession, to hear winch dis¬ tinctly it is necessary to be near the bird, which rises a little way in the air when if sings, turning round at the conclusion in a small circle, and then perches again upon the bush.” Mr. Sweet, in his “British War¬ blers,” a work of w*ell deserved reputation, gives a pleasing description of the Whitethroat in a state of confinement; it is, he says :— “One of the most delightful and pleasing birds that can be imagined. If kept in a large cage with other birds, it is so full of antics in flying and frisking about, and erecting its crest, generally singing all the time, that nothing can he more amusing. It is quite as hardy as the Blackcap, and if a good one he procured, it is little inferior in song ; hut in this they vary considerably, the wild ones as well as those in a cage. I have now in my possession one that I have had about eleven years, in as good health, and singing as well as ever, and certainly no song need he louder, sweeter, or more varied. * * * It will, indeed, sing for hours together, against a Nightingale, now in the beginning of January, and will not allow itself to he outdone; when the Nightingale raises its voice, it does the same, and tries its utmost to get above it; sometimes in the midst of its song it will run up to the Nightingale, and stretch out THE BLACKCAP. 183 Its neck as if in defiance, and whistle as loud as it can, staring it in the face ; if the Nightingale attempts to peck it away, it is in an instant flying round the aviary, and singing all the time. While singing, the throat of this biid is greatly distended, and the feathers on the top of its head raised up.” We will now let John Clare, in liis own simple and natural way, describe “ The Pettychap’s Nest. Well! in my many walks I’ve rarely found A place less likely for a bird to form Its nest—close by the rut-gulled waggon road, And on the almost bare foot-trodden ground, With scarce a clump of grass to keep it warm ! Where not a thistle spreads its spears abroad, Or prickly bush, to shield it from harm’s way ; And yet so snugly made, that none may spy It out, save peradventure. You and I Had surely passed it in our walk to-day, Had chance not led us by it!—Nay, e'en now, Had not the old bird heard us trampling by, And fluttered out, we had not seen it lie, Brown as the road-way side. Small bits of hay Plucked from the old propt haystack’s bleachy brow, And withered leaves, make up its outward wall, WTiich from the gnarl’d oak-dotterel yearly fall. And in the old hedge-bottom rot away. Built like an oven, through a little hole, Scarcely admitting e’en two fingers in. Hard to discern, the birds snug entrance win. ’Tis lined with feathers warm as silken stole, Softer than seats of down for painless ease, And full of eggs scarce bigger even than peas! Here’s one most delicate, with spots as small As dust, and of a faint and pinky red. —Stop! here’s the bird—that woodman at the gap Frightened him from the hedge ’tis olive-green. Well! I declare it is the Pettychap ! Not bigger than the wren, and seldom seen. I’ve often found her nest in chance’s way, When I in pathless woods did idly roam ; But never did I dream until to-day A spot like this would be her chosen home.” 184 FAVORITE SOHO BIRDS. With these lines we must conclude our short account of this interesting branch of the Warbler family, in which family Macoillivray includes the Wrens and Kinglets, already described; the Chirper genus, of which but one species, the Grasshopper Chirper, or Warbler, Cricket-bird, or Brake-hopper, ( Sylvia Locustella ), is known to us, and that not at all familiarly; the Seed¬ lings, Sedge, and Marsh ($. Salic aria and S. Arundi - nacea), sometimes called Sedge or Marsh Warblers, or Wrens; and the Purzeling G-enus, represented in this country by the Provence Purzeling, ( S . Provincialis ), best known as the Purze Wren, or Dartford Warbler, which is a permanent resident in several of our south and south-eastern counties, generally inhabiting com¬ mons w T here furze thickets abound, among which, it glides with great activity, flying with short jerks, and feeding principally on small insects which it catches on the wing, and returns to its perch to swallow. In most of the works purporting to treat exclusively of British Song Birds, there are included several other species, which either permanently reside in, or which are regular periodical visitants of, these islands; few, however, in addition to those already described, or named, possess many claims to particular notice ; and of these few a very brief mention may suffice. Por the sake of convenience we will take up the table of contents to that beautiful work, Bolton’s “ Harmonia Kuralis,” in which we find three representatives of the Umbcrizine , or Bunting family, viz., the Common or Corn Bunting, (P7. Miliaria), and the Yellow Bunting, ( E . Citrinella), better known as the Yellow Hammer, sometimes called the Devil’s Bird, on account of an THE BLACKCAP. 185 absurd popular superstition, which we need not repeat, rendering it obnoxious to the hatred and persecution of the ignorant. Grahame thus alludes to the song, if so it may be called, and the nest, of this pretty and sprightly bird:— “ I even love the yellow-hammer’s song. W r hen earliest buds begin to bulge, bis note, Simple, reiterated oft, is beard On leafless brier, or half-grown hedge-row tree; Nor does be cease bis note till autumn’s leaves Fall fluttering round bis golden head so bright. Fair plumaged bird! cursed by the causeless bate Of every schoolboy, still by me tby lot Was pitied ! never did I tear tby nest: I loved thee, pretty bird ! for ’twas tby nest Which first, unbelped by older eyes, I found. The very spot I think I now behold ! Forth from my low-roofed home I wandered blythe, Down to tby side, sweet Cart, where ’cross the stream A range of stones, below a shallow ford, Stood in the place of the now spanning arch; Up from that ford a little bank there was, With alder-copse and willow overgrown, Now worn away by mining winter floods,’ There, at a bramble root, sunk in the grass, The hidden prize, of withered field-straws formed, Well lined with many a coil of hair and moss, And in it laid five red-veined spheres, I found : The Scyracusan’s voice did not exclaim *' The grand Eureka , with more rapturous joy, Than at that moment fluttered round my heart.” The other individual of this genus, described by Bolton, is the Reed Bunting, (E. Schceniclus) , some¬ times called the Black-headed Bunting, the Reed or Water Sparrow, and often confounded with the Reed Warbler, or as Macgillivrat calls it, the Marsh Reedling, ( Motacilla Arundinacea ,) of which a repre¬ sentation is also given in the work above named, as is that of the Sedge Warbler, or Willow Lark, (M. Sail - 186 FAYOEITE SOFG BIRDS. caria), and the Grasshopper Warbler, or Grasshopper Lark, ( Sylvia LocusteIJa), whose name, Mudie says, is quite a misnomer, “ as it does not warble , nor, as far as observation has gone, utter any sound save a hissing chirp, something similar to that of the Grasshopper, or the Mole Cricket.” This author also disputes the correctness of its classification with aquatic birds, amongst which some authors place it, although he admits that it may sometimes be heard in thick bushes near the water. Let us, before we quit the neighbor¬ hood of the gliding streams and “ Shallow rivers, to whose falls Melodious birds sing madrigals,” devote a few lines to one of the above-named haunters of such pleasant spots of nature’s quietude, Where rushes hide the stagnant pool, or fringe the gliding stream, And in the sunshine dragon-flies, like winged jewels, gleam ; Where on the borders of the marsh, the stunted hawthorns grow, And thrift, and wild sea-lavender, shed o’er a purple glow ; WTiere alders tremulously stand, and osier twigs are seeri To dance unto the singing breeze, like fairies clad in green; Where drooping willows kiss the wave, and whistling reeds in ranks, Incline their velvet heads unto the shores, and shelving banks ; Where dives the sullen water-rat; where leaps the speckled frog ; And flies and midges gaily sport above the quaking bog;— ’Tis there the blythe Sedge Warbler dwells, and there his nest he builds, In rushy tuft, or whatsoe’er the needful shelter yields, ’Tis there he singeth constantly, a sweet, though scarce-heard song, When skies are beautifully blue, and summer days are long, And sometimes in the misty morn, and sometimes in the night, He ehanteth out right merrily, to show his heart is light: He glanceth ’twixt the bending reeds, he skimmeth o'er the tide, And many a snug retreat is there, his form from foes to hide; Come weal, come woe, his constant mate still sitteth on her nest, And food is plentiful, that he may pick and chose the best; And for his rising family he hath no anxious cares, Like men, who know the world is full of pitfalls and of snares; With fears, that truly prophecy, his heart is never stirred, He is unconscious of all these—oh, happy, happy bird! THE BLACKCAP. 1ST We had almost forgotten to mention another Song Bird, figured by Bolton, whose home and haunts are by the brooks and streamlets ; that is the Grey and Yellow Wagtail, ( Motacilla JSoarula ,) a much rarer bird with us, than is another of the genus, called the Pied Wagtail, the M. Yarrelli of Macgillivray, M. Alba of Linn^us, generally known as the AYater AYagtail or Dish-washer. In Macgilliveay’s arrangement of British Birds, the Bobin, as w^e have observed, forms a genus by itself*, under the head JErithacus ; in the family to which it belongs, Saxicolinoe , is included the Alpine and Hedge Chanters, (. Accentor or Motacilla Alpinus,) and ( A . or M. Moclularis); the former a very rare bird with us, sometimes called the Collared Starling ; and the latter a very familiar one, known under the several names of the Hedge Sparrow, Hedge AYarbler, Hedge Dunnock, and Shufflewing, the last name being expressive of a characteristic habit of the bird, which at all seasons has a peculiar shake of the wings, increasing during the breeding period, to a perfect flutter. Like the Bed- breast, the Chanter may occasionally be heard, even in the winter season; its song is short and clear, and pleasantly modulated, but neither rich nor powerful. Then there is the Common House Sparrow ( Passer Momesticd) celebrated by the Latin poet Catulltjs, about which much might be said ; and those lively, but very shy birds, the Chats, of which Bolton gives the figures of two, viz., the AVhin, or Purze Chat ( Motacilla Hubetra), and the Pallow, or Stone Chat ( M . JEnanthe) sometimes called the Whitetail, Pallowsmitch, or AVheatear, the latter name being derived, as Blyth 188 FAVORITE SONG BIRDS. supposes, from its peculiar cry —wheat jar ! In the same family are also included the Redstarts, Redtails, or Firetails, of which Bolton describes but one species, although there are three known as British Birds, that is the White-fronted Redstart of Macgilltvray, the Mo- tacilla Vhcenicurus of Linnaius, a migratory bird, very partial to old walls, in the chinks of which it frequently builds a nest of fibrous roots and moss, plentifully lined with hair, wherein it deposits six or seven eggs of a light greenish-blue, much like those of the Hedge Spar¬ row, so well knowm to truant boys. Gilbert White says of this bird, that—“ sitting very placidly on the top of a tall tree in a village, the cock sings from morn¬ ing to night—he affects neighbourhoods, and avoids solitudes, and loves to build in orchards, and about housesso that we see, he also is one of the familiar friends of man:— The lively Redstart strains his little throat, Perch’d on an orchard tree throughout the day ; When downy seeds upon the breezes float, And withered leaves begin to strew the way ; And although bright the sunny beams that play Upon the landscape, yet all things denote The glory of the year hath pass’d away: And there he warbles out his farewell note ; Soon will his desultory song be heard In climes more bright and balmier than ours; The cold, ungenial north suits not this bird, And so he journeys to a land, where bowers Are ever green; to visit us again W T hen the sweet smile of April lights the plain. 189 S E have thus brought our pleasant task to a com¬ pletion—pleasant, and as we hope not unprofit¬ able, either to ourselves or our readers, whom, it may be, we shall at a future time invite to take another ramble with us amid the beauties and winders of crea¬ tion ; to them, for their company and encouragement; to the Naturalists whom we have quoted; and especially to the Poets on whom we have drawn so largely for illustrative matter, we would here express our warm acknowledgments. Should any among them be piuing under a sense of neglect in this iron age of utilitarian¬ ism, we would remind them of the words of Conrad or "W tjrsbtjrgh, a minstrel of the 17th century, who, speaking of the apathy of the world towards poetry, said— “ I care not for their'gifts! My tongue shall not be silent, since the art itself will reward me. I will continue to sing my song like the Nightingale, who sings for her own sake; hidden in the woods her notes assuage her cares, nor does she heed whether any stranger listen to her strains.” As a fitting addenda to these remarks, we may, per¬ haps, he allowed to quote some lines which we find among our papers, on— 190 FAVORITE SOKG BIRDS. The Golden-crested Warbler. [This is an elegant little bird, bearing some slight resemblance to the Golden-crested Wren of Britain; it is, however, considerably larger, the tail is more forked, and the prevailing tint of the plumage is green, instead of being brown, as is the case "with that tiniest of songsters. This Warbler is a native of Denmark, and appears to be ill adapted to the cold northern regions which it inhabits; but as “ God tempers the wind to the shorn lamb,” and as nothing, into which he has put the breath of life, is without its peculiar enjoy¬ ments, so we doubt not that this seemingly fragile and delicate creature is gifted with powers which enable it to withstand the tempests of the north, and that it passes its days as pleasantly as those which dwell beneath sunnier skies, and in a warmer atmosphere. We are but too apt to be led by appearances, without sufficiently reflecting on their deceptive nature, and the thought immediately struck us, on viewing a drawing of this beautiful bird, and reading that it was a Warbler , and a native of so bleak and ungenial a country as Denmark, that it resembled the Poet, placed in a situation where few can appreciate his value, or care to listen to the melody of his lyre.] Where the stormy Baltic dashes On the rocks of Elsinore, And the coast of Zealand lashes With a loud, continuous roar, There,—amid the pines and spruces, Which impregnate all around With their terebinthine juices, Flowing forth from many a wound, Dwells the Warbler, golden-crested, Green and glossy are his plumes, Many a fierce wind hath he breasted, Many an hour of tempest-glooms. ’Tis a dark and stormy region, For a bird so fair and small; Blasts are there—an angry legion, And as on they sweep, down fall Stately pines of growth gigantic, Flinging their black arms about; Billows leap as they were frantic, Caverns echo to their shout; THE GOLDEN-CRESTED WAKBLER. 191 Rock to rock is wildly calling, Rocli to rock again replies ; There is crash and boom appalling, And the sea-fowl’s piercing cries. Who can hear that sweet bird singing, Who can listen to its lay. When such sounds as these are ringing— Ever ringing—night and day ! Can the fisher on the billow ? Can the fowler on the rock? Can the sailor, he whose pillow ; Is amid the tempest shock ? He who sees the walrus welter, And the porpoises at play, Seeking neither rest nor shelter— Lovers of the storm are they ! Tell me, then, can no one hear him— That sweet bird of dulcet song : May no mortal wight come near him, All the dreary winter long ? Yes ! for now and then a maiden, Stealing from the town or farm ; Or a youth, with breast love-laden, Owns the music hath a charm ; So do tearful sires and mothers, Widows sad, and men forlorn, Sisters lone and grieving brothers— All , w T ho sorrow’s yoke have borne 1 All, in whom the chords of feeling Have been woken by the touch Of some angel-power, revealing Grief, or pleasure, overmuch; All, who are by aspirations, Glorious and lofty, swayed ; All-, whose thoughts are like oblations On a heavenly altar laid; These, and such as these, will hearken To the sweetly-warbled song, Though the clouds around may darken, And the winds be loud and strong. Like that bird so sings the poet In the dreary waste of life ; Sweet he sings, but who shall know it ? All around is storm and strife! 192 FAYOEITE SONG BIRDS. Jarring interests, and contending, Passions wage eternal war ; Angry conflicts, never ending, All his strains accordant mar: Who shall know it 1 who shall listen To the chanted notes of love ? Many an one whose eye shall glisten, Thinking of the realms above ? Though the multitude may never Come to listen to thy strain; Though to him who toileth ever, All thy singing be in vain; Though the merchant’s gains and losses Fill his heart and close his ears ! Though ambitious pride engrosses Noble statesmen, high-born peers ; Poet ! ne’ertheless continue To uplift thy voice in song, Use the power that is within you, To subdue it ivere a wrong / Use the gift, and thank the Giver ,— Blending notes of love and praise; Let thy song flow like a river, Fertilizing arid ways; Flowers shall spring where least expected, Cheering thougts in many a heart, Pining, lonely and neglected, Stricken by affliction’s dart; Hope, and Peace, and Gladness giving, Such shall be thy blessed lot, Cherished by the few while living, And when dead, still unforgot! INDEX OF QUOTATIONS. PAGE Allmann, G. J. 0.. x. Allport Douglas . .... .... 172 Analyst , The _ .... .... .... .. 44 Anecdotes of the Animal Kingdom .... .... 105 Anon .... 15, 22, 44, 45, 46, 73, 81, 86, 117, 165, 131 Aristophanes . . .... 4 Aristotle .... .... .... .... .... .. 45 Barnfield .... .... .... .... .... 6 Barrington .. . . 155 Barton Bernard .. .... .... _ .... 59 Bechstein .. 15, 62, 70, 76, 78, 85, 88, 122, 126, 133, 151, 162 Beggar of Bethnal Green , The .... .... .... 31 Berquin .. . 96 Blackivood’s Magazine .... .... .... .... 37 Bloomfield .. .... . 137 Blyth. 88, 121, 146, 188 Bolton . 108, 118, 137, 138, 168, 178, 184 Bowles, Lisle .... .... .... .... .... 13 Broderlp.... .... .... _ .... 151, 171 Browne, William .... _ .. 16,131,136, 172 Browning, Elizabeth.. .... _ .... .. 49 Buchanan *..« .... .... .... .... 41 Burns . 31, 38, 56, 83, 131, 132, 136, 157 Camoens . . 94 Carrington.49, 98 Chambers * Journal .... .... .... .... 40 Chateaubriand .... .... .... .... .. 74 Chaucer .... .... ( .. .... .... 148 Clare . . .137, 161, 183 Coleridge .... •••• .... .... . >.. 3 Cologne Gazette , The .... .... .... .. 13 Conrad of Wursburgh .... .... _ .... 189 Cotton, J*. .. .... .... .... .... .. 107 Cowper _ .... .... .... .. 79, 119 194 INDEX OE QUOTATIONS. PAGE Dally, F. F. Darley, G. Darwin .. .. Dickens Dietmar .. .. Drayton, Michael .... .... 17, 36, 61, 92, 131, Editor, The, 8, 21, 25, 33, 64, 65, 111, 113, 115, 128, 129, 162 176,187,188, • • • • • • • • • 190 Edmeston .. .... .... • ••• •••• •• 42 Edwin the Fair .. .... ... • •••• •••• 42 Ellis, Mrs. .. .... .... • ••• • • • • •• 106 Field Naturalist’s Magazine .. • • • • • • • • •• 118 Friendship's Offering .... ... • • • • • •••• 28 German, From the .. .... • • • • •••• • • 133 Grahame .. 23, 34, 57, 62, 82, 102, 125, 130, 162, 167, 185 Hall, Bishop .... .... ... • ••• •••• 52 Hall, S. C. • ••• •••• •• 174 Hesiod.. .... .... .. • • • • » •••• 4 Hogg, James .... .... • • « • • • • • •• 55 Homer .... .... • • • • • • * • • 4 Hood, Thomas .... .... • ••• •••• •• 5 El oi ace .... .... •• • • » • • •••• 142 Howitt, Mary .... .... • ••• •••• •• 38 Howitt, Richard.. .... . .... • • 43, 142 Howitt, William .... .... . 105, 159, 182 Hunt, Leigh .... .... • • •••• »••• 148 Ilurdis .... .... .... 19 • • • • • • * • 1 158 Irving, Washington .... • • • • »■ • • • • 61 J ag o .... .... .... • ••• • • • • •• 26 Jameson, Mrs. .. .... * • •••• u IX. Jaidine .... .... .... • ••• • ' • • •• 93 Jenner Dr. .. .... % • •••• •••• 99 J enning .... .... .... . 74, 151, 153 J esse .... .... .. .... .. 63, 165 Jonson, Ben .... .... • • • • • • • 150 INDEX OF QUOTATIONS. 195 Knapp Lamartine .. Linnaeus PAGE 1C, 24, 66, 70, 93, 121, 134, 154, 166, 177 1 , 2 120 MacgiUivray 31, 57, 70, 81, 86, 97, 108, 120, 138, 15S 166, 175, 178, . . ’ I84 Macka y, C. 14 Magazine of Natural History . 165 Main . Mant, Bishop Markwick . Martial. Mason .... .... Me Lellon, I. Milton . Minstrelsy of the Woods, The . 136, 145, 146, 180 Monta S ue . 15i’ 164 Montgomery, James. 48, 57, 59, 77, 85, 106, 148, 172 Mudie . 19, 70; 72, 81, 84, 107, 116, 156, 157, 1S6 Northcote . 94 Ord, J. W . 100 Our Song Birds . 27 • • • • • •• ••■• .. 179 46. 68, 91, 108, 118, 125, 163, 177 •••• .... 135 • *• •••• • • • • .. 142 •••• •••• .... 81 • • •• -... .. 39 ■ • • • • • • • .. 1, 3, 61 Parsons, Sir Wm. Pennant .... Pliny. Poetry , Life of, The Pollok 77 16 47 60 7 Quarterly Revieio, The Ray . Bennie . Robin Hood , Ballad of Rowe, Nicholas .... “ Itusticus” . Schoolcraft, Mrs. Scott, Sir W . Selby . VI. ,168 137, 167 .. 148 11 .. 115 .. 110 33, 84 .. 120 196 INDEX OF QUOTATIONS. Shakspere .. .... .... Shelley .... .... Shuckard.... .... .... Sladden, Dilnot .. .... Smith, Charlotte .... .... Spenser .... .... Stanley, Dr. .... .... St. John, Percy .... Story without an End , The .... Swam son .... .... Sweet .... .... .... • • • • • • • • • • » • • ■ • • • • • • • • • • • • • • Taylor, Jeremy Tennyson.. .... Thompson, C. .. Thompson, E. P. Thomson .... Time's Telescope .... True Thomas , Rhyme of Varro .... .... Wade, J. A. Walton, Izaak .... Warton • .... Waterton.... .... Whifhn .... White, Gilbert .... Willoughby .... .... .... .... llson .... .... .. .. .... .... .. Wilson, Professor .... .... .... .... Wood, Neville, 67, 69, 70, 71, 87, 91, 92, 106, 158, 163, 179 •••• • • * • •••• •••• Wordsworth.. PAGE 37, 62 3, 52 123 92 144 133 75, 95 110 60 81 182 49, 51 40 .. 142 .. 173 70, 97 32, 170 ..... 148 33 .... 101 10 • .... ... .... 171 .116, 123, 164 >. .... .... .... 92 24, 44, 79, 93. 121, 135, 154, 162, 188 .. .... .... .... 168 .... .... .... .. 152 .. .... .... .... 56 Yarrell Young .. .... .... .... 181 8, 2, 12, 27, 58, 89, 107, 141, 168 . 118, 121 .. .... .... .. o7 Biciiard Taylor, Printer, Watts’ Place, Chatham. Fcap. 8 vo, Illustrated, price 6?. Gd., with a Memoir of the Author , HOME INFLUENCE; A TALE POR MOTHERS AND DAUGHTERS. By GRACE AGUILAR. “ Grace Aguilar wrote and spoke as one inspired; she condensed and spiritualized, and all her thoughts and feelings were steeped in the essence of celestial love and truth. To those who really knew Grace Aguilar, all eulogium falls short of her deserts, and she has left a blank in her particular walk of literature, which we never ex¬ pect to see filled up.”— Pilgrimages to English Shrines, by Mrs. Hall. “A clever and interesting tale, corresponding well to its name, illustrating the silent, constant influence of a wise and affectionate parent over characters the most diverse.”— Christian Lady's Magazine. “ This interesting volume unquestionably contains many valuable hints on domestic education, much powerful writing, and a moral of vast importance.”— Englishwoman’s Magazine. “It is very pleasant, after reading a book, to speak of it in terms of high commendation. 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These, connected with the skill here evinced in their development, ensure the success of her labours.”— Illustrated, News. “ As a writer of remarkable grace and delicacy, she devoted herself to the inculcation of the virtues, more especially those which are the peculiar charm of women.”— Critic. “ It is a bonk for all classes of readers; and we have no hesitation in saying, that it only requires to be generally known to become ex¬ ceedingly popular In our estimation, it has far more attractions than Miss Burney’s celebrated, but over-estimated, novel of ‘ Ce¬ cilia.’ ”—Herts County Press. “This very interesting and agreeable tale has remained longer without notice on our part than we could have desired; but we would now endeavour to make amends for the delay, by assuring our readers that it is a most ably-written publication, full of the nicest points of information and utility that c>uld have been by any possibility constructed; and, as a proof of its value, it may suffice to say, that it has been taken from our table again and again by several individuals, from the recommendation of those who had already perused it, and so prevented our giving an earlier attention to its manifold claims for favourable criticism. 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