88 Retrospective Criticism. 
an accuracy as certain as they are detailed in our calendars. 
The season of spring is always announced as approaching by 
the notes of the rookery, by the jangle or wooing accents of 
the dark frequenters of its trees; and that time having passed 
away, these contentions and cadences are no longer heard. 
The cuckoo then comes, and informs us that spring has 
arrived ; that he has journeyed to us, borne by gentle gales 
in sunny days; that fragrant flowers are in fhe: copse ; atid 
the mead, and all things telling of gratulation and of joy : the 
children mark this well-known Sour spring out, and cuckoo ! 
cuckoo ! as they gambo! down the es ; the very ploughboy 
bids him welcome in the early mori t is hardly spring 
without the cuckoo’s song ; and ote told his tale, he has 
voice for no more — is silent or aw ay. “Then comes the dark, 
swift-winged marten*, glancing through the air, that seems 
afraid to visit our uncertain clime; he comes, though late, 
and hurries through his business here, eager again to ‘depart; 
all day long in agitation and precipitate flight. The bland 
zephyrs of the spring have no charms with them; but bask- 
ing and careering in the sultry gleams of June and July, they 
associate in throngs, and, screaming, dash round the steeple 
or the ruined tower, to serenade ‘their nesting mates; and 
glare and heat are in their train. When the fervour of sum- 
mer ceases, this bird of the sun will depart. ‘The evening 
robin, from the summit of some leafless bough, or projecting 
point, tells us that autumn is come, and brings matured fruits, 
chilly airs, and sober hours ; and he, the lonely minstrel now 
that sings, is understoed by all. These four birds thus indi- 
cate a separate season, have no interference with the intelli- 
gence of the other, nor could they be transposed without the 
loss of all the mea uning they convey, which no contrivance of 
art could supply; and by long association they have become 
identified with the period, and in peculiar accordance with the 
time.” (p. 266.) 
This passage is both just and beautiful, and in unison with 
the rest of the pages. The author, indeed, in treating of the 
most ordinary occurrences of nature, paints the scene with 
that descriptive faithfulness, feeling, and vivacity, which never 
fail to rouse our recollections, and set the objects before us in 
a manner that is at once striking and delightful. We almost 
fancy that we hear the melody of the birds, and behold the 
beauty and splendour of the plants and insects. 
* The swift, Hirindo A'pus. The unobservant reader may perhaps be 
misled by this passage, to suppose that the swift does not arrive in our cli- 
mate till the month of June; whereas it is well known that the bird makes 
its appearance in May, and sometimes by the end of April. The author, 
however, very justly represents the season of June and July as being par- 
ticularly marked by its joyous scream. 
