SPARROW KIND. 



533 



OF BIRDS OF THE SPARROW KIND. 



CHAPTER CVI. 



OF BIRDS OF THE SPARROW KIND. 



STILL descending from the larger to the 

 smaller, we come to birds of the sparrow kind ; 

 or that class of beautiful little animals that, 

 being less than the pigeon, go on diminishing 

 till we arrive at the humming-bird, the small- 

 est of the feathered creation. 



The birds which compose this class chiefly 

 live in the neighbourhood of man, and are his 

 greatest favourites. The falcon may be more 

 esteemed, and the turkey more useful ; but 

 these he considers as servants, not as friends ; 

 as animals reclaimed merely to supply him 

 with some of the conveniences of life : but 

 these little painted songsters have his affections, 

 as well from their beauty as tht-ir melody ; it 

 is this delimit i ful cla?s that fill his groves with 

 harmony, and lift his heart to sympathize with 

 their raptures. All the other classes are either 

 mute or screaming; it is this diminutive tribe 

 only that have voices equal to the beauty of 

 their figures ; equally adapted to rejoice man, 

 and delight each other. 



As they are the favourites of man, so they 

 are chiefly seen near him. All the great birds 

 dread his vicinity, and keep to the thickest dark- 

 ness of the forest, or the brow of the most 

 craggy precipice : but these seldom resort to 

 the thicker p.irts of the wood ; they keep near 

 its edges, in the neighbourhood of cultivated 

 fields, in the hedge-rows of farm grounds, and 

 even in the yard, mixing with the poultry. 



It must be owned, indeed, that their living 

 near man is not a socioty of affection on their 

 part, as they approach inhabited grounds 

 nier 'ly because their chief provision is to be 

 found there. In the depth of the desert, or the 

 gloom of the forest, there is no grain to be 

 picked up ; none of those tender buds that are 



so grateful to their appetites: insects themselves, 

 that make so great a part of their food, arc 

 not found there in abundance ; their natures 

 being unsuited to the moisture of the place. 

 As we enter, therefore, deeper into uncultivated 

 woods, the silence becomes more profound ; 

 every thing carries the look of awful stillness ; 

 there are none of those warblings, none of 

 those murmurs, that awaken attention, as near 

 the habitations of men ; there is nothing of that 

 confused buzz, formed by the united, though 

 distant, voices of quadrupeds and birds ; but 

 all is profoundly dead and solemn. Now and 

 then, indeed, the traveller may be roused from 

 this lethargy of life, by the voice of a heron, 

 or the scream of an eagle ; but his sweet little 

 friends and warblers have totally forsaken 

 him. 



There is still another reason for these little 

 birds avoiding the depths of the forests; which 

 is, that their most formidable enemies usually 

 reside there. The greater birds, like robbers, 

 choose the most dreary solitudrs for their re- 

 treats ; and if they do not find, they make a 

 desert all around them. The small birds fly 

 from their tyranny, and take protection in the 

 vicinity of man, where they know their more 

 unmerciful foes will not venture to pursue 

 them. 



All birds, even those of passage, seem con- 

 tent with a certain district to provide food and 

 centre in. The red-breast or the wren seldom 

 leaves the field where it has been brought up, 

 or where its young have been excluded ; even 

 though hunted it flies along the hedge, and 

 seems fond of the place with an imprudent 

 perseverance. The fact is, all these small 

 birds mark out a territory to themselves, which 

 4H* 



