IN THE WHITE MOUNTAINS. 85 
other words, they “have the defects of their 
qualities.”* Probably Paul’s confession, “ When 
I am weak, then am [ strong,” is after all only 
the personal statement of a general law, as true 
of a poplar as of a Christian. For we all be- 
lieve (do we not?) that the world is a uni- 
verse, governed throughout by one Mind, so 
that whatever holds in one part is good every- 
where. 
But it was June, and the birds, who were 
singing from daylight till dark, would have the 
most of my attention. It was pleasant to find 
here two comparatively rare warblers, of whom 
I had before had only casual glimpses, — the 
mourning warbler and the bay-breasted. The 
former was singing his loud but commonplace 
ditty within a few rods of the piazza on one 
side of the house, while his congener, the Mary- 
land yellow-throat, was to be heard on the other 
side, along with the black-cap (Dendreca strv- 
ata), the black-and-yellow, and the Canadian 
flycatcher. The mourning warbler’s song, as 
I heard it, was like this: Whit whit whit, wit 
wit. The first three notes were deliberate and 
loud, on one key, and without accent. ‘The 
last two were pitched a little lower, and were 
shorter, with the accent on the first of the pair ; 
they were thinner in tone than the opening 
triplet, as is meant to be indicated by the dif- 
