PREFACE. 



awakened to feelings of tenderness and joy on hear- 

 ing the gladsome warblings of these feathered 

 songsters of the air. Ever more numerous and 

 rich in song where the soil is most productive, they 

 would appear to hold out an inducement to man 

 to cultivate the ground by the increased delight 

 he would obtain from their exhilarating presence. 



The swarthy rustic who plods across the fields 

 at early dawn, bearing his keg and frugal meal, 

 and whistling as he goes, must feel his heart warm- 

 ed to joy and thanksgiving when he hears the 

 sweetly warbled orisons of the Skylark, which he 

 sees mounting up, up into the celestial blue above, 

 as if he would approach the very throne of Him 

 who made him, and sing his praises there. His 

 heavy toil finished for the day, 



" The ploughman homeward plods his weary way," 

 and by the coppice side hears the delicious vespers 

 of the Woodlark. 



In the dreary season of the year, when clouds and 

 mists thicken the atmosphere, or snow spreads a 

 mantle over the ground, the Redbreast haunts the 

 cottage garden, and, perched on some leafless 

 shrub or solitary stump, carols forth his cheerful 

 ditty, and reminds the inmates that although his 

 ordinary food is for a time lost to him, yet they 

 can give him plenty. Amid the levelled timber, 

 through which the woodman's axe resounds, he 

 sings his sweetest song, and cheers the sturdy 

 labourer in his toil. 



Should the sun's brightening rays dispel the 

 chilling mist, and warm the surface atmosphere, the 



