237 

 THE SONG OF BIRDS. 



BY 0. S. ROUND, ESQ. 



Everything has a peculiar characteristic, or that by which it is parti- 

 cularly distinguished; thus the song of birds is their distinguishing attribute, 

 and in the universal possession of which (I speak of song birds) they differ 

 from all other creatures, the human race not excepted. This gift has in 

 all ages formed the theme of the poet, the charm of the country, and the 

 admiration of all; it is simultaneous with a genial change of season, and 

 ushers in the first warmth of April's sunbeams in the most agreeable 

 manner. I think no one, let him be ever so insensible to the beauties 

 of Nature, but must have felt the full effect of the charm of this delightful 

 harmony; for, let the season be what it will, sunshine alone calls it forth 

 in full chorus, and what can enliven a brilliant day, and add zest to the 

 enjoyment of it, more than this sweet accompaniment? It is true that 

 the woods, robed in their new dress of light green foliage, are a beautiful 

 spectacle; but were they silent, they would charm only without inspiration, 

 whilst the native music that resounds amid their branches animates the 

 scene in an uncommon manner, and seems to enhance even the brilliancy 

 of the hues which are blended in the sea of leaves. It is a remarkable 

 circumstance that, almost without exception, the plainest-looking birds are 

 the best songsters, as if Nature designed to make up for their want in 

 one particular by their excellence in another, in the same manner that we 

 constantly find the most ordinary persons the most agreeable, and splendid 

 talent incased in a receptacle of deformity, the only difference in the analogy 

 being that both are often mingled in the human subject. Hence it seems 

 ordained that one is formed to please the eye, and the other the ear, so 

 that the pleasure received by two senses may not be called forth by the 

 same subject, as though they might interfere and clash with each other. 

 Look at the magnificent Peacock, the Eastern Pheasant of the Himalayas, 

 our own Pheasant, or the native of China, with their gorgeous and daz- 

 zling contrast of resplendent plumage; all these are harshly loquacious, and, 

 if not, comparatively mute. The Kingfisher is seldom heard to utter any 

 sound, and when he does, it cannot be called even a note, and is only 

 agreeable as connected in memory with the cool, flowing river, and the 

 refreshing shade of the willows in a summer's day. 



Look at the beautiful Swan as he sails majestically upon the bosom of 

 the waters, what can be a more noble sight? and yet this stupendous bird, 

 for there are, I believe, very few which exceed him in size, when with 

 flashing eyes and out-spread plumage he resents an insult, becomes suddenly 

 almost ridiculous when you hear nothing but a "hiss" proceed from him. 



VOL. VII. 2 I 



