2.30 HISTORY OF 



This class of small birds, like all the greater, has its wan- 

 derers, that leave us tor a season, and then return, to propagate, 

 to sing, or to embellish the landscape here. Some of this smaller 

 kind, indeed, are called birds of passage, that do not properly 



and form exceptions to the general procedure of our British birds ; and we 

 have one little bird, the woodlark {alauda arborea), that, in the early parts 

 of the autumnal months, delights us with its harmony, and its carols may 

 be heard in the air commonly during the calm sunny mornings of this sea- 

 son. They have a softness and quietness, perfectly in unison with the 

 sober, almost melancholy, stillness of the hour. The skylark also sings 

 now, and its song is -very sweet, full of harmony, cheerful as the blue sky 

 and gladdening beam in which it circles and sports, and known and admired 

 by all ; but the voice of the woodlark is local — not so generally heard— from 

 its softness, must almost be listened for, to be distinguished, and has not 

 Buy pretensions to the hiliirity of the former. This little bird sings like- 

 wise in the spring; but at that season, the contending songsters of the 

 grove, and the variety of soiuid proceeding from every thing that has ut- 

 terance, confuse and almost render inaudible the placid voice of the wood- 

 lark. It delights to fix its residence near little groves and copses, or quiet 

 pastures, and is a very unobtrusive bird, not uniting in companies, but as- 

 sociating in its own little family-parties only, feeding in the woodlands on 

 seeds and insects. Upon the approach of man, it crouches close to the 

 ground, then suddenly darts away, as if for a distant flight, but settles 

 again almost immediately. This lark will ofton continue its song, circle in 

 the air, a scarcely visible speck, by the hour together ; and the vast distance 

 from which its voice reaches us in a calm day is almost incredible. In the scale 

 of comparison, it stands immediately below the nightingale in melody and 

 plaintiveness ; but compass of voice is given to the linnet, a bird of very in- 

 ferior powers. The strength of the larynx and of the muscles of the throat 

 in birds is infinitely greater than in the human race. The loudestshout of the 

 pea.santis but a feeble cry, compared with that of the golden-eyed duck, the 

 wild goose, or even this lark. The sweet song of this poor little bird, with a 

 fate like that of the nightingale, renders it an object of capture and confine, 

 ment, which few of them comparatively survive. 1 have kno«Ti our 

 country bird-catchers take them by a very simple but efl'ectual method. 

 Watching them to the groimd, the wings of a hawk, or of the brown owl 

 stretched out, are drawn against the current of air by a string, as a paper 

 kite, and made to flutter and vibrate like a kestrel over the place where 

 the woodlark has lodged ; which so intimidates the bird, that it remains 

 crouching and motionless as a stone on the ground ; a hand net is brought 

 over it, and it is caught. 



From various little scraps of intelligence scattered through the sacred and 

 ancient wTitings, it appears certain, as it was reasonable to conclude, that 

 the notes now used by birds, and the voices of animals are the same as ut- 

 tered by tlieir earliest progenitors. The language of man, without any re. 

 fiTence to the confusion accomplished at Babel, has been broken into innu. 

 nierable dialects, created or compounded as his wants occurred, or his ideas 

 prompted ; or obtained by intercourse with others, lus mental enlargement 

 ov noveltv necessitated new words to express new sentiments. Could we 



