XXVI. 



SOLITARY THE THRUSH. 



" Solitary the thrush, 

 The hermit, withdrawn to himself, 

 Sing-s by himself a song-." 



Thus says the poet, with no less truth than 

 beauty. No description could better express 

 the spirit of the bird, the retiring habit and the 

 love of quiet for which not alone the hermit, but 

 the three famous singers of the thrush family 

 are remarkable. We should indeed be shocked 

 were it otherwise, for there is an indefinable 

 quality in the tones of this trio, the hermit, 

 wood, and tawny, that stirs the soul to its 

 depths, and one can hardly conceive of them as 

 mingling their notes with other singers, or be- 

 coming in any way familiar. In this peculiar 

 power no bird-voice in our part of the world can 

 compare with theirs. The brown thrush ranks 

 high as a musician, the mocking-bird leads the 

 world, in the opinion of its lovers, and the win- 

 ter wren thrills one to the heart. Yet no bird 

 song so moves the spirit, no other — it seems to 

 me — so intoxicates its hearer with rapture, as 



