THE CHATS. 353 



Even in the voices of the birds, we find that perfect 

 system, that sufficiency without waste, which is so re- 

 markable in every part of nature, and which makes 

 nature the very best school in which to study political 

 economy. Birds that inhabit wide and lonely places, 

 such as the extended heaths and sandy tracks by the 

 sea shore, and, where they are to be heard, amid the 

 wailing of the winds and the roar of the w r aters, 

 have loud cries, the latter a shrill and piercing 

 whistle, the sound that is best heard amid the din 

 of waves, and therefore is adopted on board ship. 

 Those which inhabit thick woods or close bushes have 

 songs, vocal in proportion to the depth of their habita- 

 tions ; and those again that resort to open places that 

 are not very extensive, have short and less loud calls, 

 but all so varied from each other, that they cannot be 

 mistaken. In all, however, even in the most tuneless, 

 there is a voice of love, a something peculiar in the 

 sound, which brings the pair together for the grand 

 purpose of the year, and which cannot be mistaken for 

 the common warning of danger, or the invitation to 

 associate; and when the necessity for this peculiar 

 song, or note, or cry, is at an end, the sound itself 

 ceases until the warm season returns, and calls it forth 

 anew. 



The birds which, with us, take up their nesting 

 places in the stoney wastes, are the chats, so called 

 from their common note, which is not unlike the 

 sound produced by rubbing one pebble against ano- 

 ther, though in the season they have all more or less 

 of song. There are three species of chat (saxicola), 

 found in Britain : the wheatear, or fallow chat (saxi- 

 2 H 2 



