LIFE OF WILSON. CXCvii 



particular occasions; but when put forth, overpowering all op- 

 position. Elevated upon a high dead limb of some gigantic 

 tree, that commands a wide view of the neighbouring shore 

 and ocean, he seems calmly to contemplate the motions of the 

 various feathered tribes that pursue their busy avocations below: 

 the snow-white gulls slowly winnowing the air; the busy Trin- 

 gae coursing along the sands; trains of ducks streaming over the 

 surface; silent and watchful Cranes, intent and wading; clamo- 

 rous Crows, and all the winged multitudes that subsist by the 

 bounty of this vast liquid magazine of nature. High over all 

 these hovers one, whose action instantly arrests all his atten- 

 tion. By his wide curvature of wing, and sudden suspension 

 in air, he knows him to be the Fish-hawk settling over some 

 devoted victim of the deep. His eye kindles at the sight, and 

 balancing himself, with half-opened wings, on the branch, he 

 watches the result. Down, rapid as an arrow from heaven, de- 

 scends the distant object of his attention, the roar of its wings 

 reaching the ear as it disappears in the deep, making the surges 

 foam around. At this moment the looks of the Eagle are all 

 ardour; and levelling his neck for flight, he sees the Fish-hawk 

 emerge, struggling with his prey, and mounting into the air 

 with screams of exultation. These are the signal for our hero, 

 who, lanching into the air, instantly gives chace, soon gains 

 on the Fish-hawk, each exerts his utmost to mount above the 

 other, displaying in these rencontres the most elegant and sub- 

 lime aerial evolutions. The unincumbered Eagle rapidly ad- 

 vances, and is just on the point of reaching his opponent, when 

 with a sudden scream, probably of despair and honest execra- 

 tion, the latter drops his fish; the Eagle poising himself for a 

 moment, as if to take a more certain aim, descends like a whirl- 

 wind, snatches it in his grasp ere it reaches the water, and bears 

 his ill-gotten booty silently away to the woods. " 



Perhaps there is no similar work extant, which can so justly 

 lay claim to the merit of originality as Wilson's Ornithology. 

 In books on natural history, in general, we rarely meet with 

 much that is new; and it is not unusual to behold laboured per- 



