228 BTIWS IX LONDON 



sounds of tits of several species, of wren, tree- 

 creeper, goldcrest, nuthatch, lesser spotted 

 woodpecker, robin, greenfinch and chaffinch, 

 and in winter the siskin and redpole. Listen- 

 ing to this fairy-like musical prattle, or attend- 

 ing to your own thoughts, there is but one 

 thinof, one sound, to break the illusion of 

 remoteness from the toiling crowded world of 

 London — the report at intervals of a big gun 

 from tlie Arsenal, three miles away. . Too far 

 for the iarrino' and shriekino- sounds of machinerv 

 and the noisy toil of some sixteen to eighteen 

 thousand men perpetually engaged in the manu- 

 facture of arms to reach the woods ; but the dull, 

 tlumderous roar of the big o-un travels over wide 

 leagues of countr}^ ; and the hermit, startled out 

 of his meditations, is apt to wish with the poet 

 that the old god of war himself was dead, and 

 rotting on his iron hills ; or else that he would 

 make his hostile preparations with less noise. 



At the end of day, windless after wind, or 

 with a clear sky after rain, when the guns 

 liave ceased to l)0()m, the woods are at tlieir 

 best. Then llie l)irds are most vocal, llicii" 

 voices purei*, more spiritual, than at oilier 

 limes. Tlieii the level sun, that flatters all 



