i8o BIRDS IN TOWN AND VILLAGE 



distinctly different in origin and character from the 

 poet's. He — Matthew Arnold — ^is a poet, and the 

 author of much good verse, which I appreciate and 

 hold dear. But he was not a naturaUst — all men 

 cannot be everything. And I, a naturalist, hold that 

 the wishes thronging the restless httle feathered 

 breast are not altogether so incommunicable as the 

 melodious mourner of " Poor Matthias " imagines. 

 The days — ay, and years — ^which I have spent in 

 the society of my feathered friends have not, I flatter 

 myself, been so wasted that I cannot small my soul, 

 just as the preacher smalled his voice, to bring it 

 within reach of them, and establish some sort of 

 passage. 



And so, thinking that a little more knowledge 

 of birds than most people possess, and consideration 

 for them — ^for I will not be so harsh as to speak of 

 justice — and time and attention given to their wants, 

 might remove this reproach, and silence these vague 

 suggestions of a too fastidious conscience, I have 

 taken the trouble to add something to the seed with 

 which these httle prisoners had been supplied. For 

 we give sweetmeats to the child that cries for the 

 moon — an alternative which often acts beneficially 

 — ^and there is nothing more to be done. Any one 

 of us, even a philosopher, would think it hard to be 

 restricted to dry bread only, yet such a punishment 

 would be small compared with that which we, in 



