LIFE OF WILSON. cxxix 



this joy.' This description of the descent of the bird, and the pleasures of it.s 

 little nest, is conceived in a strain of the most exquisite delicacy and feeling."* 



I am not disposed to dispute the beauty of the imagery of the above, or 

 the delicacy of its expression ; but I should wish the reader to compare it with 

 Wilson's description of the Mocking-bird, unquestionably the most accomplished 

 songster of the feathered race. 



" The plumage of the Mocking-bird, though none of the homeliest, has 

 nothing gaudy or brilliant in it; and, had he nothing else to recommend him, 

 would scarcely entitle him to notice; but his figure is well proportioned, and 

 even handsome. The ease, elegance and rapidity of his movements, the anima- 

 tion of his eye,"}" and the intelligence he displays in listening, and laying up 

 lessons from almost every species of the feathered creation within his hearing, 

 are really surprising, and mark the peculiarity of his genius. To these qualities 

 we may add that of a voice full, strong, and musical, and capable of almost 

 every modulation, from the clear mellow tones of the Wood Thrush, to the 

 savage scream of the Bald Eagle. In measure and accent he faithfully follows 

 his originals. In force and sweetness of expression he greatly improves upon 

 them. In his native groves, mounted upon the top of a tall bush or half-grown 

 tree, in the dawn of dewy morning, while the woods are already vocal with a 

 multitude of warblers, his admirable song rises pre-eminent over every compe- 

 titor. The ear can listen to his music alone, to which that of all the others 

 seems a mere accompaniment. Neither is this strain altogether imitative.' His 

 own native notes, which are easily distinguishable by such as are well acquainted 

 with those of our various song birds, are bold and full, and varied seemingly 

 beyond all limits. They consist of short expressions of two, three, or at the 

 most five or six syllables ; generally interspersed with imitations, and all of 

 them uttered with great emphasis and rapidity; and continued, with undimi- 

 nished ardor, for half an hour, or an hour at a time. His expanded wings and 

 tail, glistening with white, and the buoyant gayety of his action, arresting the 

 eye, as his song most irresistibly does the ear. He sweeps round with enthu- 

 siastic ecstasy — he mounts and descends as his song swells or dies away ; and, 

 as my friend Mr. Bartram has beautifully expressed it, ' He bounds aloft with 

 the celerity of an arrow, as if to recover his very soul, which expired in the 

 last elevated strain.' While thus exerting himself, a bystander, destitute of 

 sight, would suppose that the whole feathered tribes had assembled together, on 

 a trial of skill, each striving to produce his utmost effect, so perfect are his 

 imitations. He many times deceives the sportsman, and sends him in search 

 )f birds that perhaps are not within miles of him ; but whose notes he exactly 

 imitates. Even birds themselves are frequently imposed on by this admirable 

 mimic, and are decoyed by the fancied calls of their mates; or dive, with 

 precipitation, into the depths of thickets, at the scream of what they suppose 

 to be the Sparrow Hawk. 



" The Mocking-bird loses little of the power and energy of his song by con- 



* Drake's Literary Hours, No. 39, edition of 1820. 



f The reader is referred to our author's figure of this bird, which is one of the mott 

 spirited drawings that the records of natural history can produce. 

 Vol. I.— I 



