KTDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



117 



lis natural to them. By the way, I observe you 

 propose to assist in carrying out Mr. Wollaston's 

 plan of domesticating canaries in the open air. 

 1 shall indeed rejoice at this. It must be a pretty 

 sight to see them ranging about at perfect liberty 

 over that gentleman's domain, — the sun lending 

 full effect to the variety of their colors. [When 

 you come to London, Honeysuckle, we will under- 

 take to procure for you and yours a ready entree 

 to Mr. Wollaston's grounds. We will, moreover, 

 accompany you.] Wild birds are never ''happy" 

 in cages. Anybody may perceive this. Their 

 song — foolishly so called — is not joyous, mellow, 

 liquid. It is a mere collection of snatches. The 

 poor creatures no doubt amuse themselves as best 

 they may, to wile away the time, — but no gushes 

 have we of pure melody, no ecstacy of feeling, — 

 so peculiar to them in a state of freedom. To con- 

 fine blackbirds, thrushes, linnets, chaffinches, 

 robins, &c, in wire prisons, — is it not an act of 

 savage barbarity? [Most emphatically do we 

 say, — " yes," Honeysuckle. There is no doubt 

 whatever upon the matter. Could these poor inno- 

 cent little creatures speak their feelings, they 

 would indeed tell a sorrowful tale !] What is it 

 that imparts such a relish to the song of our birds 

 as we stroll abroad ? Is it not the landscape — 

 the grove — the golden break of day — the contest 

 upon the hawthorn — the fluttering from branch 

 to branch — the soaring in the air — and the bird's 

 answer to the call of its young? Here we have a 

 pleasing association of exciting causes for delight. 

 Nothing, perhaps, when our mind is well attuned, 

 can be more pleasing than to gaze upon the rising 

 lark. Hark ! how he warbles upon the wing, — 

 raising his note higher and higher as he soars aloft, 

 until he seems positively lost in the realms of ether 

 oyer our head. Still the anthem reaches the ear, 

 even though the chorister remains invisible. Then, 

 mark how he suddenly descends with a swell, as 

 he quits the clouds, — sinking by degrees as he 

 approaches his nest, — the sacred spot where all his 

 affections are centred, and for love of which he has 

 shown all this joy ! Say, — my dear sir, is not this 

 enjoyable ? Surely no person who can appreciate 

 the feeling, would ever imprison a poor innocent 

 bird between bars of iron and wood. How sweetly 

 Chaucer sings, about the value a bird attaches to 

 his liberty 1 Every word is true, and would break 

 the heart of anybody but a citizen. The inha- 

 bitants of cities are an iron-hearted race indeed ! 

 I believe all you say about that. But let Chaucer 

 be heard : — 



Take any bird, and put it in a cage ; 

 Then do thy best and utmost to engage 

 The bird to love it. Give it meat and drink, 

 And every dainty housewife can bethink. 

 Aye, — keep the cage as cleanly as you may, 

 And let it be with gilt never so gay ; 

 Yet had this bird, by twenty thou sand -fold, 

 Rather be in a forest wild and cold, 

 Feeding on worms and such-like wretchedness. 

 Yea ; ever will he tax his whole address 

 To get out of the cage when best he may : 

 Sis liberty the bird dcsireth, aye. 



Let me hope that we may, between us, work a 

 change in people's hearts; and thus prevent many 

 a poor songster falling a victim to the cage. If 

 there were no bird-buyers, there would be no bird- 

 catchers. These last (you call them villains) are 

 indeed the very off-scouring of all things. They 

 visit our neighborhood as well as yours, and trap 



our finest nightingales directly they arrive. The 

 blackcaps, too, — dear, confiding little creatures ! — 

 fall easy victims to the trap and worm. I hate the 

 whole race of bird-catchers, and would gladly 

 exterminate them, if I could. I do all I can to 

 attract our spring visitors to our sacred grounds, — 

 but with all my care I am too often defeated. One 

 by one our little pets disappear. — their vocal 

 melody gradually growing less, until itisevenlually 

 silenced altogether. I was going to say something 

 more about the flowers — 



Bath'd in soft airs, and fed with dew. 



They are beginning to smile sweetly upon us ; and 

 I could be eloquent in their praise. Much do I 

 love these — 



Floral apostles, that in dewy splendor 



Weep without woe, and blush without a crime. 



But I really am ashamed of the space I have 

 already occupied. Oh, my dear Mr. Editor, if we 

 could but get all the world to think as we think, 

 and to feel as we feel, — what a happy race of 

 beings we should be ! — Honeysuckle, Henley. 



[Such a state of things, Honeysuckle, cannot 

 exist on earth. Man is made up of such odd con- 

 stituents, that there can be no universal harmony 

 amongst us. Rough and smooth ; up-hill and 

 down-hill ; smiles and tears ; sorrow and joy, — all 

 are commingled. Happy they who possess a mind 

 pure as thine !] 



Smell, Taste, and Touch. — It is curious to note, 

 says Dr. Lardner, the senses of smelling, tasting, 

 and even of feeling and touch. How liable they 

 are to innumerable causes of deception ; if the 

 organ at the time it I'eceives an impression be in 

 any unusual condition, or even out of its usual 

 position, the indication of the impression will be 

 fallacious. If two fingers of the same hand, being 

 crossed, be placed upon a table, and a marble or 

 pea is rolled between them, the impression will 

 be, if the eyes are closed, that two marbles or two 

 peas are touched. If the nose be pinched, and 

 cinnamon be tasted, it will taste like a common 

 stick of deal. This is not a solitary instance. 

 Many substances lose their flavor when the 

 nostrils are stopped. Nurses, therefore, upon 

 right and scientific principles stop the noses of 

 children when they give them doses of disagree- 

 able medicine. If things having different or 

 opposite flavors be tasted alternately, in such 

 rapid succession as not to allow the nerves of 

 tasting to recover their state of repose, the power 

 of distinguishing flavors will be lost for the 

 moment, and the substances, however different, 

 will be undistinguishable from one another. 

 Thus, if the eyes be blindfolded, and buttermilk 

 and claret be alternately tasted, the person tasting 

 them, after a few repetitions of the process, will 

 be unable to distinguish one from the other. 

 Tastes, like colors, in order to produce agreeable 

 effects, should succeed each other in a certain 

 order. Eating, considered as one of the tine arts 

 in the most refined state of society, is regulated 

 by principles ; and nothing can shock the habits 

 and rules of epicureanism more than the viola- 

 tion of certain rules in the succession and 

 combination of dishes. It is maintained that 

 perfection in the art of cookery and the obser- 

 vance of its principles at the table is the surest 



