THE CHArFINCH. 291 



it is conscious, without dread, of atmospheric 

 changes ; and knows often of their approach long 

 before they are made perceptible to our less sensi- 

 tive organization. Its very song is rendered so full 

 and loud by means of the volume of air which it can 

 introduce into its throat, and the force with which 

 it can expel it, that after long and loud warb- 

 lings it usually presents no appearance of exhaus- 

 tion. Who that, while listening to the song of the 

 lark, as it wings its way to the sky, or watches the 

 white dove as it glides among the dark greenwood, 

 is not ready to say with the Psalmist, " Oh, that 

 I had the wings of the dove, for then would I flee 

 away, and be at rest ! " Yet that same capacity 

 for flight would unfit us for thought and reflec- 

 tion ; and by rendering us impetuous and volatile 

 as the bird, would deprive us of the faculty of 

 attention, by which alone our minds can gather 

 greatness. There are hours when the solitude 

 and silence of the forest might well harmonize 

 with our feelings ; yet, had we wings to wander 

 thither, the ties of earth, with all its loves and 

 friendships, would soon bring us back to our 

 hearths and homes. 



But to return to the merry bright-eyed chafiinchj 



