( 372 ) 

 THE WOOD THRUSH. 



, TURDUS MUSTELINUS, GmEL. 

 PLATE LXXIII. Male AND Female. 



Kind reader, you now see before you my greatest favourite of the 

 feathered tribes of our woods. To it I owe much. How often has it re- 

 yived my drooping spirits, when I have listened to its wild notes in the 

 forest, after passing a restless night in my slender shed, so feebly secured 

 against the violence of the storm, as to shew me the futility of my best 

 efforts to rekindle my little fire, whose uncertain and vacillating light had 

 gradually died away under the destructive weight of the dense torrents of 

 rain that seemed to involve the heavens and the earth in one mass of fear- 

 ful murkiness, save when the red streaks of the flashing thunderbolt burst 

 on the dazzled eye, and, glancing along the huge trunk of the stateliest 

 and noblest tree in my immediate neighbourhood, were instantly followed 

 by an uproar of crackling, crashing, and deafening sounds, rolling their 

 volumes in tumultuous eddies far and near, as if to silence the very 

 breathings of the unformed thought ! How often, after such a night, 

 when far from my dear home, and deprived of the presence of those 

 nearest to my heart, wearied, hungry, drenched, and so lonely and deso- 

 late as almost to question myself why I was thus situated, when I have 

 seen the fruits of my labours on the eve of being destroyed, as the water, 

 collected into a stream, rushed through my little camp, and forced me to 

 stand erect, shivering in a cold fit like that of a severe ague, when I have 

 been obliged to wait Avith the patience of a martyr for the return of day, 

 trying in vain to destroy the tormenting moschettoes, silently counting 

 over the years of my youth, doubting perhaps if ever again I should re- 

 turn to my home, and embrace my family ! — how often, as the first 

 glimpses of morning gleamed doubtfully amongst the dusky masses of 

 the forest-trees, has there come upon my ear, thrilling along the sensitive 

 cords which connect that organ with the heart, the delightful music of 

 this harbinger of day ! — and how fervently, on such occasions, have I 

 blessed the Being who formed the Wood Thrush, and placed it in those 

 solitary forests, as if to console me amidst my privations, to cheer my de- 

 pressed mind, and to make me feel, as I did, that never ought man to de- 



