2 ORNITHOLOGICAL RAMBLES. 



swampy flats of Port Meadow, or exploring the 

 sedgy banks of the Isis, near Sandford Lasher, 

 ahnost forgetting our hastily-moored skifls in a 

 prolonged search after the nest of the water-hen, 

 or the airy fabric of tlie reed- warbler. Once more 

 are we seated beneath the old rook-trees in Christ 

 Church meadow, and congratulating the dark 

 proprietors of the village overhead that their for- 

 tunate settlement is within the protective influ- 

 ence of academic laws. I have a lively recollec- 

 tion, too, of our delightful correspondence, when, 

 in return for my rough notes from the west of 

 Ireland, I received such an interesting account of 

 3^our neighbourhood. But, to turn from retro- 

 spect to reality, I rejoice to think that our inter- 

 course has only been interrupted, not annihilated, 

 by the lapse of years. 



You are quite correct in supposing that my pre- 

 dilection for my old pursuits is as strong as ever. 

 It is true that I no longer listen to the roar of the 

 Atlantic, as when I used to indite ornithological 

 epistles to you from the wilds of Erris, but the 

 influence of early habits has survived every vicis- 

 situde of time and place. 



The eagle and the grouse, indeed, are gone ; 

 and to the dark, misty mountains, and rock-bound 

 coast of Mayo, have succeeded the bright Downs, 

 the wooded valleys, and the smiling shores of 



