110 SPRING. 



estimation, as they do not depend on human art, the 

 grand object of which, even when curative, is as often to 

 exalt the doctor as to heal the patient. 



.Upon such a field one has the best chance of hearing 

 the matin song of the year. While the morning is yet 

 cold, there are but a few complaining chirps, and the 

 birds chiefly appear in short flights, which have much the 

 appearance of leaps, under the hedges. As the morn- 

 ing gets warm, however, a few are found running 

 along the furrows, and one brown fellow, perched on 

 a clod, partially erecting a crest of feathers, and look- 

 ing around him with a mingled air of complacency and 

 confidence, utters a " churr-ee" in an under tone, as if 

 he were trying the lowest and the highest notes of an 

 instrument. The 'notes are restrained, but they have 

 enough of music in them to cause you to wish for a repe- 

 tition. That, however, does not in general come ; but 

 instead of it there is a single " churr" murmured from 

 a little distance, and so soft as hardly to be audible ; 

 and the bird that was stationed upon the clod has 

 vanished, nor can you for some time find out what has 

 become of him. His flight is at first upward, and bears 

 some resemblance to the smoke of a fire on a calm 

 day, gradually expanding into a spiral as it rises above 

 the surface. But no sooner has he gained the proper 

 elevation, than down showers his song, filling the whole 

 air with the most cheerful melody; and you feel more 

 gay, more glee and lifting up of the heart, than when 

 any other music meets your ear. The opening of the 

 day and of the year come fresh to your faacy, as you 

 instinctively repeat 



" Hark, the lark at heaven's gate sings." 



We have many songsters, and the spring is the 



