THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 245 



people of England will know him as a great naturalist, and 

 my friend. I intend to name, one after another, every one 

 of my new birds, either for some naturalist deserving this 

 honor, or through a wish to return my thanks for kindness 

 rendered me. Many persons have called, quite a large 



party at one time, led by Lady B . I am sorry to say 



I find it generally more difficult to please this class of per- 

 sons than others, and I feel in consequence more reserved 

 in their presence, I can scarcely say why. I walked out 

 this evening to see Kirkstall Abbey, or better say the 

 ruins of that ancient edifice. It is about three miles out 

 of Leeds and is worthy the attention of every traveller. It 

 is situated on the banks of the little river Ayre, the same 

 I bathed in, and is extremely romantic in its appearance, 

 covered with ivy, and having sizable trees about and 

 amongst its walls. The entrance is defended by a board 

 on which is painted : " Whoever enters these ruins, or 

 damages them in the least, will be prosecuted with all the 

 rigor of the law." I did not transgress, and soon became 

 very cautious of my steps, for immediately after, a second 

 board assured every one that spring-guns and steel-traps are 

 about the gardens. However, no entreaty having been ex- 

 pressed to prevent me from sketching the whole, I did so 

 on the back of one of my cards for thee. From that spot 

 I heard a Cuckoo cry, for I do not, like the English, call it 

 singing. I attempted to approach the bird, but in vain; I 

 believe I might be more successful in holding a large 

 Alligator by the tail. Many people speak in raptures of the 

 sweet voice of the Cuckoo, and the same people tell me in 

 cold blood that we have no birds that can sing in America. 

 I wish they had a chance to judge of the powers of the 

 Mock-bird, the Red Thrush, the Cat-bird, the Oriole, the 

 Indigo Bunting, and even the Whip-poor-will. What 

 would they say of a half-million of Robins about to take 

 their departure for the North, making our woods fairly 

 tremble with melodious harmony? But these pleasures are 



