SKETCH OF SAMUEL LOCKWOOD. 699 



divided into sanitaria for different kinds of maladies. On a later 

 visit the doctor was found going over a large number of mounted 

 slides for the microscope which he had prepared, containing fungi 

 and microbes taken recently from sick fishes. Dr. Lockwood's 

 general and specific knowledge in so many fields, with his well- 

 known love for the young and his lifelong experience as an edu- 

 cator, may readily account for the indescribable charm of his 

 writings ; but perhaps especially are these features discovered 

 in his two little volumes of Animal Memoirs, of which a third 

 volume, to embrace the reptiles and fishes, was to follow in due 

 course. 



Dr. Lockwood lived to be about seventy-five years of age, but 

 time had dealt so kindly with him that his mind seemed to be 

 expanding and ripening as the years went by. His tenacity of 

 purpose in the pursuit of knowledge continued to brighten an in- 

 tellect that was never dull, while his conversation glowed with 

 the enthusiasm of youth and charmed with a delicacy of thought 

 that was intellectually refining and pure. He was ever a student, 

 but never a recluse. Seated by his beloved microscope, he seemed 

 to play upon science as a master of the violin feels for its magical 

 chords, and he caught by his sympathetic comment upon insect 

 and animal life the attention of his hearers and held it firmly and 

 harmoniously in touch with his own. His fondness for clearness 

 of speech brought him the admiration of those who know science 

 only by name, and his geniality and hospitality won for him the 

 love of all who came within the circle of his home. In his home 

 life he was ever gentle, considerate, and kind, and his love for his 

 work was as absorbing as the simplicity of his life was sweet. 



One cause of the persistence of caged birds in singing is found by Mr. 

 Charles A. Witcliell in the result of their changed condition of life that 

 they have nothing to do but to sing. " The wild bird has always plenty to 

 notice and consider the approach of various creatures: men, beasts, hawks 

 and other birds; the sounds which these produce, and which signify vari- 

 ous degrees of safety or of peril ; the indications of food in air or tree, or on 

 the ground ; and lastly the state of the atmosphere and the various weather 

 signs which all birds observe such incidents as these occupy the wakeful 

 hours of the wild bird. But the caged bird often secluded from all com- 

 munication with his kind (one, perchance, of a gregarious species), without 

 the necessity of seeking food, with a horizon limited perhaps by a smoky 

 garden, perhaps by a dingy window can take no exercise but in hopping 

 from perch to perch, across and across his cage, and can hear no call-notes 

 but his own, which he repeats again and again, and, if he has been reared 

 in a cage, his own song, which he seems to utter as much for the sake of 

 such occupation as it affords as to express by means of it any desire for a 

 mate or any pleasure in his surroundings.'' 



