and choke the wholesome plant. A dovecot ought to be well lighted; and it should be white-washed once every year. The tillage which it produces may be removed early in November, and again at the end of February. The young of the dovecot pigeon, like all others of the columbine order, are reared in a nest lined by their own dung; which, if left in the hole after the birds are gone, is apt to harbour vermin. Wherefore, cleanliness dictates its early removal. No dovecot can possibly thrive if rats have found an entrance into it. These cruel and audacious plunderers will destroy every young pigeon within their reach. Oust them you must, and preclude their return, be the cost ever so great: otherwise, disappointment will most assuredly be your lot.

"The barn-owl and the starling are harmless unoffending visitors to the dovecot: they repair to it merely for shelter, or for a breeding-place; so that I always like to see them enter mine. It is a lofty and a spacious building; and last season it furnished seventy-three dozens of young pigeons. The walls were made with flues, by the judicious use of which we had a very early supply for the table; but, through some neglect on the part of the attendant, a fire took place, which threatened destruction to the surrounding buildings. In consequence of this, the flues were no longer heated, and they have continued in disuse since that time. Though owls, and hawks, and crows, and magpies, are allowed an unmolested range in the vicinity of this dovecot, still it is acknowledged to be one of the most productive in the county.

"There is a peculiarity in the habits of the dovecot pigeon, which ought not to pass unnoticed. Though this bird will often perch on trees in the daytime, it has never been known to roost on them during the night. Neither will it pass the night in

the open air, except in cases of the greatest emergency. I have an aged elm here. of gigantic size, to which both the dovecot pigeon and the wild ringpigeon will frequently resort. It is amusing to watch the peculiar habits of these two different species of birds. They seem to come to the tree solely for their own convenience, and not with any intention to enjoy each other's company; and they appear to be as devoid of mutual signs of courtesy, as are our own countrymen when seated in a foreign diligence. I am positive that there will never be a union betwixt the dovecot pigeon and the ring-dove. A long series of observations, which I have been enabled to make, tends to convince me more and more of the impossibility.

"The dovecot pigeons, like the rest of the genus, are remarkable for retiring to their roost at an early hour, and for leaving it late in the morning: thus fulfilling only half of Poor Richard's maxim of,

'Early to bed, and early to rise,

Makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.'

"These pigeons never lay more than two eggs at one sitting. Indeed, I should be most surprised were it satisfactorily proved that any pigeon ever sits on three eggs.

"Nothing can surpass the attachment of these birds to the cot of their choice. Provided you do not absolutely molest them by the repeated discharge of fire-arms, they can scarcely be driven from it. You may unroof their habitation; and, though you leave it in that dismantled state for weeks together, still the pigeons will not forsake it. At their early hour of roosting, they will approach within three or four yards of the workmen, and then take shelter in the Loles of the roofless walls, where they remain for the night."

CHAP. I.

GENERAL OBSERVATIONS.

the other classes are either mute or screaming; it is this diminutive tribe only that have voices equal to the beauty of their figures; equally adapted to rejoice man, and delight each other.

As they are the favourites of man, so they are chiefly seen near him. All the great birds dread its vicinity, and keep to the thickest darkness of the forest, or the brow of the most craggy preci

The birds which compose this class chiefly live in the neighbourhood of man, and are his greatest favourites. The falcon may be more esteemed, and the turkey more useful; but these he considers as servants, not as friends; as animals reclaimed merely to supply him with some of the conveniencies of life: but these little painted songsters have his affections, as well from their beauty as their melody; it is this delightful class that fill his groves with harmony, and lift his heart to sympathize with their raptures. All

of the wood; they keep near its edges, in the neighbourhood of cultivated fields, in the hedgerows of farm-grounds, and even in the yard, mixing with the poultry.

It must be owned, indeed, that their living near man is not a society of affection on their part, as they approach inhabited grounds merely because their chief provision is to be found there. In the depth of the desert, or the gloom of the forest, there is no grain to be picked up; none of those tender buds that are so grateful to their appetites; insects themselves, that make so great

a part of their food, are not found there in abundance, their natures being unsuited to the moisture of the place. As we enter, therefore, deeper into uncultivated woods, the silence becomes more profound; everything carries the look of awful stillness; there are none of those warblings, none of those murmurs, that awaken attention, as near the habitations of men; there is nothing of that confused buzz, formed by the united though distant voices of quadrupeds and birds; but all is profoundly dead and solemn. Now and then, indeed, the traveller may be roused from this lethargy of life, by the voice of a heron, or the scream of an eagle; but his sweet little friends and warblers have totally forsaken him.

There is still another reason for these little birds avoiding the depths of the forests; which is, that their most formidable enemies usually reside there. The greater birds, like robbers, choose the most dreary solitudes for their retreats; and if they do not find, they make a desert all around them. The small birds fly from their tyranny, and take protection in the vicinity of man, where they know their more unmerciful foes will not venture to pursue them. All birds, even those of passage, seem content with a certain district to provide food and centre in. The redbreast or the wren seldom leaves the field where it has been brought up, or where its young have been excluded; even though hunted it flies along the hedge, and seems fond of the place with an imprudent persever

ance.

The fact is, all these small birds mark out a territory to themselves, which they will permit none of their own species to remain in; they guard their dominions with the most watchful resentment; and we seldom find two male tenants in the same hedge together.

Thus, though fitted by Nature for the most wandering life, these little animals do not make such distant excursions, during the season of their stay, as the stag or the leveret. Food seems to be the only object that puts them in motion, and when that is provided for them in sufficient plenty, they never wander. But as that is seldom permanent through the year, almost every bird is then obliged to change its abode. Some are called birds of passage, because they are obliged to take long journeys for this purpose; but, strictly speaking, almost every other kind are birds of passage, though their migration may not be to places so remote. At some particular season of the year all small birds migrate either from one country to another, or from the more inland provinces to the shore.

There are several persons who get a livelihood by watching the seasons when our small birds begin to migrate from one country to another, and by taking them with nets in their passage. The birds are found to fly, as the bird-catchers term it, chiefly during the month of October, and part of September and November. There is also another flight in March, which is much less

considerable than that in autumn. Nor is it less remarkable, that several of these species of flight-birds make their appearance in regular succession. The pippet, for instance, begins his flight every year about Michaelmas, when they are caught in greatest number. To this the woodlark succeeds, and continues its flight till towards the middle of October; other birds follow, but are not so punctually periodical; the greenfinch does not begin till the frost obliges it to seek for a change. These birds, during those months, fly from daybreak till twelve noon; and there is afterwards a small flight from two till night. Such are the seasons of the migration of the birds, which have been usually considered as stationary, and on these occasions they are caught in great abundance, as they are on their journey. But the same arts used to allure them upon other occasions would be utterly fruitless, as they avoid the nets with the most prudent circumspection. The autumnal flight probably consists of the parents conducting their newfledged young to those places where there is sufficient provision, and a proper temperament of the air during the winter season; and their return in spring is obviously from an attachment to the place which was found so convenient before for the purposes of nestling and incubation.

Autumn is the principal season when the birdcatcher employs his art to catch these wanderers. His nets are a most ingenious piece of mechanism, being generally twelve yards and a half long, and two yards and a half wide, and so contrived as from a flat position to rise on each side, and clap over the birds that are decoyed to come between them. The birds in their passage are always observed to fly against the wind; hence there is a great contention among the bird-catchers which shall gain the wind; for example, if it is westerly, the bird-catcher who lays his net most to the east is sure of the most plentiful sport, if his call-birds are good. For this purpose he generally carries five or six linnets, two goldfinches, two greenfinches, one woodlark, one red-poll, and perhaps a bullfinch, a yellow-hammer, a tit-lark, and an aberdavine: these are placed at small distances from the nets in little cages. He has besides what he calls his flur-birds, which are placed upon a moveable perch, which the bird-catcher can raise at pleasure by means of a string; and these he always lifts gently up and down as the wild bird approaches. But this is not enough to allure the wild bird down; it must be called by one of the call-birds in the cages; and these, by being made to moult prematurely in a warm cage, call louder and better than those that are wild and at freedom. There even appears a malicious joy in these call-birds to bring the wild ones into the same state of captivity, while at the same time their call is louder, and their plumage brighter, than in a state of nature. Nor is their sight or hearing less exquisite, far exceeding that of the

bird-catcher; for the instant the wild birds are perceived, notice is given by one to the rest of the call-birds, who all unite in the same tumultuous ecstacy of pleasure. The call-birds do not sing upon these occasions as a bird does in a chamber, but incite the wild ones by short jerks, which, when the birds are good, may be heard at a great distance. The allurement of this call is so great that the wild bird hearing it is stopped in its most rapid flight; and, if not already acquainted with the nets, lights boldly within twenty yards perhaps of the bird-catcher, and on a spot which it would otherwise have quite disregarded. This is the opportunity wished for, and the bird-catcher pulling a string, the nets on each side rise in an instant, and clap directly down on the poor little unsuspecting visitant. Nay, it frequently happens, that if half a flock only are caught, the remaining half will immediately afterwards light between the nets, and share the fate of their companions. Should only one bird escape, this unhappy survivor will also venture into danger till it is caught; such a fascinating power have the call-birds.

Indeed, it is not easy to account. for the nature of this call, whether it be a challenge to combat, an invitation to food, or a prelude to courtship. As the call-birds are all males, and as the wild birds that attend to their voice are most frequently males also, it does not seem that love can have any influence in their assiduity. Perhaps the wild females, in these flights, attend to and obey the call below, and their male companions of the flight come down to bear them company. If this be the case, and that the females have unfaithfully led their mates into the nets, they are the first that are punished for their infidelity: the males are only made captives for singing; while the females are indiscriminately killed, and sold to be served up to the tables of

the delicate.

Whatever be the motives that thus arrest a flock of birds in their flight, whether they be of gallantry or of war, it is certain that the small birds are equally remarkable for both. It is, perhaps, the genial desire that inspires the courage of most animals; and that being greatest in the males, gives them a greater degree of valour than the females. Small birds being extremely amorous, are remarkably brave. However contemptible these little warriors are to large creatures, they are often but too formidable to each other; and sometimes fight till one of them yields up his life with the victory. But their contentions are sometimes of a gentler nature. Two male birds shall strive in song till, after a long struggle, the loudest shall entirely silence the other. During these contentions, the female sits an attentive silent auditor, and often rewards the loudest songster with her company during the

season.

Singing among birds is almost universally the prerogative of the male. With them it is the

reverse of what occurs in the human kind. Among the feathered tribe, the heaviest cares of life fall to the lot of the female. Hers is the fatigue of incubation, and to her devolves the principal fatigue of nursing the helpless brood. To alleviate these fatigues, and to support her under them, Nature has given the song to the male. This serves, as a note of blandishment, at

1 "The question, why do birds sing? has never yet been, I think, satisfactorily answered. It was supposed that the male sang to soothe the female during the question would immediately arise, why are some incubation. There was plausibility in this; but then birds denied song? Do the females of some birds require soothing more than others? Besides, birds sit during the night as well as the day, yet no bird but the nightingale sings during the night. The skylose sight of him, but we also lose all trace of his lark frequently mounts so high that we not only song: can the female then hear him and be soothed by his notes? Barrington supposed the female to be silent, lest her song should discover her nest.' A it was supposed that the male sang to soothe the singular conclusion, certainly, at the same time that female during the period of incubation. If the song were poured forth for this soothing purpose, it must of course have been in the near neighbourhood of the nest, and consequently would be as likely to discover the nest as if the female herself sang; besides, do not the females of some birds sing oc casionally, as well as the males? Now comes another theory. The males of song birds do not, in general, search for the females, but, on the contrary, their business in the spring is to perch upon some conspicuous spot, breathing out their full and natural notes, which, by instinct, the female knows, and repairs to the spot to choose her mate.' The female amongst birds has evidently the advantage over the human species, for she is the chooser, and not the object of choice. The same author tells us, that birds cannot discriminate the colours by which their species is known?' and this is evidently put forth to account for the male perching upon some conspicuous spot.' But what say others? The bush or small tree.' (Field Nat. Mag., . 201.) nightingale sings concealed in the thickest part of a Both statements are fact. The nightingale does sing in the concealment of a thick bush, and the song thrush sings, morning and evening, mounted on the does this to lure the female to him, for I have never highest spray he can find. I cannot suppose that he observed it to have that effect; besides, he does it for a very considerable portion of spring and summer; Neither can I suppose certainly after he is mated. that his song is poured forth for the purpose of soothif that were the case, the soothing would be required ing the female during the period of incubation; for, as much by night as by day, and as much in the middle of the day as in the morning and the evening: besides this, he frequently sings at Christmas, when he is neither mated nor seeking a mate. Let us come, however, to a still later opinion. The songs of birds have given rise to several curious inquiries of no small interest. After investigating the subject with considerable attention for several years, we have come to the conclusion that the notes of birds, which we denominate singing, may all be referred to hilarity and joy, or to rivalry and defiance.' (Rennie's Habits of Birds, 260.) In making this theory hold good, I think we shall find as many difficulties as in any other. Why is the nightingale more joyous than other birds during the night? Is the redbreast habitually more joyous than other birds? for he sings nearly the whole year round. If it be joy that stim

The nest of little birds seems to be of a more delicate contrivance than that of the larger ulates to song, why do not the females sing as well as the males: have they no joy? And why are some birds altogether denied song: are they joyless? The thrush breaks forth into song frequently in the winter, and the woodlark makes the December mornings resound with his song. How is it that these birds are so joyous when all others are gloomy? The meadow pipit, again, when disturbed from her nest, will mount up into the air to a considerable height, and then descend slowly, warbling with all her powers, until she reaches the ground. Is it any source of joy to the bird to be thus disturbed from her nest? This may be said to be 'defiance. To this I have only to reply, it is the usual and general note, and certainly a source of considerable pleasure to the rambler over our mountains, where they abound. But we must, I am fearful, conclude where we began: Why do birds sing?"-Loudon's Magazine of Natural History, vol. vii. pp. 484-486.

2 In Montagu's Ornithological Dictionary,' under the article Song of Birds,' there is the following remark:-Regarding the note of alarm which birds utter on the approach of their natural enemies, whether a hawk, an owl, or a cat, we consider it to be a general language, perfectly understood by all small birds, though each species has a note peculiar to itself. A correspondent in Loudon's Magazine of Natural History,' says: "I was, last April, very much pleased at witnessing an illustration of the truth of this opinion. I found a nest of young throstles at the root of a hazel; and although they could scarcely fly, yet, as they were near a footpath, and the next day was Sunday, when many idle and mischievous lads would be rambling about, I thought they would be safer out of their nest than in it; and as I knew that, when so far fledged, if they were once disturbed they would not continue in the nest, I took one out, and made it cry out, and then put it back again, but in one minute not only it but its three companions had disappeared in the long dry grass which was round about. On hearing the cry of their young one, the parent bird set up such a shriek of alarm as brought all the birds in the wood to see what was the matter. I noticed the blackbird, the chaffinch, the titlark, the redbreast, the oxeye [greater titmouse], the blue and marsh titmouse, and the wren, all uttering their cries of alarm and apprehension: even the golden-crested wren, which usually seems to care for nothing, was as forward and as persevering as any of them in expressing its fear on this occasion; indeed, the only bird which seemed indifferent to all these manifestations of alarm was the creeper, which continued its anxious and incessant search for food as it flitted from one tree to another, examining them from root to branch, without ever seeming to understand or care for what seemed to have so much frightened all the others."-ED.

are generally warmer. It is easy to conceive that small things keep heat a shorter time than those that are large. The eggs, therefore, of small birds require a place of more constant warmth than those of great ones, as being liable to cool more quickly; and accordingly their nests are built warmer and deeper, lined on the inside with softer substances, and guarded above with a better covering. But it sometimes happens that the little architects are disturbed in their operations, and then they are obliged to make a nest, not such as they wish, but such as they can. The bird whose nest has been robbed several times, builds up her last in a very slovenly manner, conscious that, from the near approach of winter, she must not take time to give her habitation every possible advantage it is capable of receiving. When the nest is finished, nothing can exceed the cunning which the male and female employ to conceal it. If it is built in bushes, the pliant branches are so disposed as to hide it entirely from the view; if it be built among moss, nothing outwardly appears to show that there is a habitation within. It is always built near those places where food is found in greatest abundance; and they take care never to go in or out while there is any one in sight. The greater birds continue from their nest for some time, as their eggs take no damage in their absence; but the little birds are assiduous while they sit, and the nest is always occupied by the male when the female is obliged to seek for sus

tenance.

The first food of all birds of the sparrow kind is worms and insects. Even the sparrow and the goldfinch, that when adult feed only upon grain, have both been fed upon insects while in the nest. The young ones, for some time after their exclusion from the shell, require no food; but the parent soon finds, by their chirping and gaping, that they begin to feel the approaches of hunger, and flies to provide them a plentiful supply. In her absence they continue to lie close together, and cherish each other by their mutual warmth. During this interval also they preserve a perfect silence, uttering not the slightest note, till the parent returns. Her arrival is always announced by a chirrup, which they perfectly understand, and which they answer all together, each petitioning for its portion. The parent distributes a supply to each by turns, cautiously avoiding to gorge them, but to give them often, though little at a time. The wren will in this manner feed seventeen or eighteen young ones without passing over one of them.

Such is the manner in which these birds bring forth and hatch their young; but it remains to usher them from the nest into life, and this they very assiduously perform. When they are fully fledged, and fitted for short flights, the old ones, if the weather be fair, lead them a few yards

In general, birds, when they come to pair in the spring, associate with those of their own age and place of abode. Their strength or courage is generally in proportion to their age: the oldest females first feel the accesses of desire, and the oldest males are the boldest to drive off all younger pretenders. Those next in courage and desire become pretenders, till they are almost all provided in turn. The youngest come last; as, in fact, they are the latest in their inclinations. But still there are several, both males and females, that remain unprovided for; either not happening to meet with each other, or at least not during the genial interval. Whether these mix with small birds of a different species, is a doubt which naturalists have not been able thoroughly to resolve. Addison, in some beautiful Latin lines, inserted in the Spectator, is entirely of opinion that birds observe a strict chastity of manners, and never admit the caresses of a different tribe.

Chaste are their instincts, faithful is their fire,
No foreign beauty tempts to false desire:
The snow-white vesture, and the glittering crown,
The simple plumage, or the glossy down,
Prompt not their love. The patriot bird pursues
His well acquainted tints, and kindred hues :
Hence thro' their tribes no mix'd polluted flame,
No monster-breed to mark the groves with shame:
But the chaste blackbird, to its partner true,
Thinks black alone is Beauty's fav'rite hue:
The nightingale, with mutual passion bless'd,
Sings to its mate, and nightly charms the nest :
While the dark owl, to court his partner flies,
And owns his offspring in their yellow eyes.

But whatever may be the poet's opinion, the probability is against this fidelity among the smaller tenants of the grove. The great birds are much more true to their species than these; and, of consequence, the varieties among them are more few. Of the ostrich, the cassowary, and the eagle, there are but few species; and no arts that man can use could probably induce them to mix with each other.

But it is otherwise with the small birds we are describing; it requires very little trouble to make a species between a goldfinch and a canary-bird, between a linnet and a lark. They breed frequently together; and produce a race, not like the mules among quadrupeds, incapable of breeding again; for this motley mixture are

Whether the great variety of our small birds may have arisen from this source cannot now be ascertained; but certain it is that they resemble each other very strongly, not only in their form and plumage, but also in their appetites and manner of living. The goldfinch, the linnet, and the yellow-hammer, though obviously of different species, yet lead a very similar life; being equally an active, lively, salacious tribe, that subsist by petty thefts upon the labours of mankind, and repay them with a song. Their nests bear a similitude; and they are all about the same time in hatching their young, which is usually fifteen days. Were I, therefore, to describe the manners of these with the same minuteness that I have done the greater birds, I should only present the reader with a repetition of the same accounts; animated neither by novelty nor information. Instead, therefore, of specifying each sort, I will throw them into groups; uniting those together that practise the same manners, or that are remarkable for similar qualifications.

Willoughby has divided all the smaller birds into those that have slender bills, and those that have short and thick bills. Those with slender bills, chiefly live upon insects; those with short strong bills, live mostly upon fruits and grain. Among slender-billed birds he enumerates the thrush, the blackbird, the fieldfare, the starling, the lark, the titmouse, the water-wagtail, the nightingale, the red start, the robin-redbreast, the beccafigo, the stone-chatter, the whin-chat, the goldfinch, the white-throat, the hedge-sparrow, the pettichaps, the golden-crowned wren, the wren, the humming-bird, and several other small birds of the sparrow-kind, unknown in this part of the world.

All these, as was said, live for the most part upon insects; and are consequently of particular benefit to man. By these are his grounds cleared of the pernicious swarms of vermin that devour the budding leaves and flowers; and that even attack the root itself, before ever the vegetable can come to maturity. These seek for and destroy the eggs of insects that would otherwise propagate in numbers beyond the arts of man to extirpate; they know better than man where to seek for them; and thus at once satisfy their own appetites, and render him the most essential services.

But this is not the only merit of this tribe: in it we have the sweetest songsters of the grove;