THE periodical press has done itself infinite credit by its justice and benevolence towards Mr Waterton and his Wanderings. From that amusing quarto we set ourselves, a few months ago, to fabricate a still more amusing Leading Article, when, lo and behold, the Editor of the London had the good taste and feeling to forestall and regrate us in the market. His well-written article gave us pause, for we love to be original, and above all things, hate sailing close in the wake of any sloop, brig, or ship. The London was followed by the British Critic-he by the Quarterly-and the Edinburgh just then hove in sight, firing away like a pleasant Fury, with every inch of canvass set, and prettily adorned with flags, as at a regatta. There was no help for it; so in bounced our article into the balaam-box, playing bang against a seriously-disposed paper on the building of new churches, till it groaned again, dislodging from its entrenched position a formidable communication about the Catholics, forcibly ejecting Clara Fisher, and settling down upon a bunch of sonnets, that must have been pressed into utter lifelessness at the very bottom of the bathos. Letting fall the lid, we put our ear to the key-hole, and all was quiet-only the faint rustle of some agitated leaf -the last sigh of some disappointed contribution sinking back into hopeless repose.

Leaving Waterton's Wanderings, therefore, to circulate over the British empire, we beg leave to introduce to our readers an equally interesting person, Alexander Wilson, the celebrated American ornithologist. Wilsonnow gone to his long home-was a native, we believe, certainly an inhabitant, of that good Scotch west-country town, Paisley-first a weaver, and then a pedlar, and then a voluntarily expatriated emigrant to America. Then driven, as it were, by a passion for ornithology, or rather a love of the living birds, with all their plumage and songs, he plunged into the woods, and studied the instincts of all those beautiful creatures in the great solitude of nature.

"Amusement," says he, in his preface to his splendid folios, " blended with instruction, the correction of numerous errors, which have been introduced into this part of the natural history of our country, (our country?) if a wish to draw the attention of my fellow-citizens, occasionally, from the discordant jarrings of politics to a contemplation of the grandeur, harmony, and wonderful variety of nature, exhibited in the beautiful portion of the animal creation, are my principal and almost only motives in the present undertaking."

He afterwards observes, that

"The ornithology of the United States exhibits a rich display of the most splendid colours, from the green silky, gold-bebird, scarce three inches in extent, to the spangled down of the minute humming black coppery wings of the gloomy condor, of sixteen feet, who sometimes visita our northern region-a numerous and powerful band of subjects, that for sweetness, variety, and melody, are compassed by no country on earth,--an everchanging scene of migration from torrid to temperate, and from northern to southern regions, in quest of suitable seasons, food and climate, and such an amazing diversity in habit, economy, form, disposition, and faculties, so uniformly hereditary in each species, and so completely adequate to their peculiar wants and convenience, as to overwhelm us with astonishment at

the power, wisdom, and beneficence of the Creator."

In proportion as the enthusiastic and erratic ornithologist became acquainted with these particulars, his visits and residence in the country, he says, became more and more agreeable. Formerly, on such occasions, he found himself in solitude, or, with respect to the feathered tribes, as it were in a strange country, where the manners, language, and faces of all were either totally overlooked or utterly unknown; but now he found himself among wellknown and interesting neighbours and acquaintances, and in the voice of every songster recognized with satisfaction the voice of an old companion and friend.

In order to attain a more perfect knowledge of birds, naturalists, Mr Wilson observes, have divided them into classes, orders, genera, species,

and varieties; but, in doing this, scarcely two have agreed on the same mode of arrangement, and this has indeed proved a source of great perplexity to the student. Some have increased the number of orders to an unnecessary extent, multiplied the genera, and out of mere varieties produced what they supposed to be entire new species. Others, sensible of the impropriety of this, and wishing to simplify the science, as much as possible, have reduced the orders and genera to a few, and have thus thrown birds, whose habits, and other characteristical features, are widely different, into one and the same tribe, and thereby confounded our perception of that beautiful production of affinity and resemblance, which nature herself seems to have been studious of preserving, throughout the whole. The principal cause of the great diversity of classifications, appear to be owing to the neglect, or want of opportunity in these writers, of observing the manners of the living birds, in their unconfined state, and in their native countries. As well might philosophers attempt to class mankind into their respective religious denominations, by a mere examination of their physiognomy, as naturalists to form a correct arrangement of animals, without a knowledge of these necessary particulars.

Mr Wilson begins with that elegant bird the Corvus Cristatus, or BLUE JAY. He is peculiar to America, and is distinguished as a kind of beau among the feathered tenants of the woods by the brilliancy of his dress, while, like most other coxcombs, he makes himself still more conspicuous by his loquacity, and the oddness of his tones and gestures. We shall not attempt to paint in words of our own this shining character-but the following accounts of him cannot but be amusing to all readers.

BLUE JAY.

"The Blue Jay is an almost universal inhabitant of the woods, frequenting the thickest settlements, as well as the deepest recesses of the forest, where his squalling voice often alarms the deer, to the disappointment and mortification of the hunter; one of whom informed me, that he made it a point, in summer, to kill every Jay he could meet with.

"In the charming season of spring, when every thicket pours forth harmony, the

part performed by the Jay always catches the ear. He appears to be, among his fellow-musicians, what the trumpeter is in a band, some of his notes having no distant resemblance to the tones of that instrument. These he has the faculty of changing through a great variety of modulations according to the particular humour he happens to be in. When disposed for ridicule, there is scarce a bird whose peculiarities of song he cannot tune his notes to. When engaged in the blandishments of love, they resemble the soft chatterings of a duck, and while he nestles among the thick branches of the cedar, are scarce heard at a few paces distance; but no sooner does he discover and vehement out-cry, flying off, and your approach, than he sets up a sudden screaming with all his might, as if he called the whole feathered tribes of the neighbourhood to witness some outrageous usage he had received. When he hops undisturbed among the high branches of the oak and hickory, they become soft and musical; and his calls of the female, a stranger would readily take for the repeated creakings of an ungreased wheelbarrow. All these he accompanies with various nods, jerks, and other gesticulations; for which the whole tribe of Jays are so remarkable, that, with some other peculiarities, they might have very well justified the great Swedish Naturalist in forming them into a separate genus by them

"When in my hunting excursions I have passed near this scene of tumult, I have imagined to myself that I heard the insulting party venting their respective charges with all the virulency of a Billingsgate mob; the owl, meanwhile, returning every compliment with a broad goggling stare. The war becomes louder and louder, and the owl, at length forced to betake himself to flight, is followed by the whole train of his persecutors until driven beyond the boundaries of their jurisdiction.

"But the blue Jay himself is not guiltless of depredations with the owl, and be. comes in turn, the very tyrant he detest. ed, when he sneaks through the woods as he frequently does, and among the thickets and hedge-rows, plundering every nest he can find of its eggs, tearing up the

callow young by piecemeal, and spreading alarm and sorrow around him. The cries of the distressed parents soon bring together a number of interested spectators, (for birds in such circumstances seem truly to sympathize with each other,) and he is sometimes attacked with such spirit as to be under the necessity of a speedy retreat.

"He is not only bold and vociferous, but possesses a considerable talent for mimicry, and seems to enjoy great satisfaction in mocking and teasing other birds, particularly the little hawk, (F Sparrerius,) imitating his cry whenever he sees him, and squealing out as if he was caught; this soon brings a number of his own tribe around him, who all join in the frolic, darting about the hawk, and feigning the cries of a bird sorely wounded, and already under the clutches of its devourer; while others lie concealed in bushes, ready to second their associates in the attack. But this ludicrous farce often terminates tragically. The hawk singling out one of the most insolent and provoking, sweeps upon him in an unguarded moment, and offers him up a sacrifice to his hunger and resentment. In an instant the tune is changed; all their buffoonery vanishes, and loud and incessant screams proclaim their disaster."

Wherever the Blue Jay has had the advantage of education, it is remarked, that he profits by it, not only showing himself an apt scholar, but his suavity of manners is equalled only by his art and contrivance. His itch for thieving, however, keeps pace with his other acquirements. Dr Meare, on the authority of Colonel Portell of South Carolina, informed Mr Wilson that a Blue Jay, which was brought up in the family of the latter gentle man, had all the tricks and loquacity of a parrot, pilfering everything he could conveniently carry off, and hid them in holes and crevices; answered to his name with great sociality when called on; could articulate a number of words pretty distinctly; and when he heard any uncommon noise or loud talking, seemed impatient to contribute his share to the general festivity, by a display of all the oratorical powers he was possessed of. He is also one of the most useful agents in the economy of nature for disseminating forest-trees, and other ruciferous and hard-seeded vegetables, on which they feed. Their chief employment, during the autumnal season, is foraging to supply their wintry stores. In VOL. XIX.

performing this necessary duty, they drop abundance of the seed in their flight over fields, hedges, and by fences, where they alight to deposit them in the post-holes. It is remarkable, what numbers of young trees rise up in fields and pastures after a wet winter and spring. These birds alone are capable, in a few years, to replant all the cleared lands. They seldom associate in very great numbers, Dr Latham's account of flocks of 20,000 being altogether fabulous. Such a flock, says Mr Wilson, would be as extraordinary an appearance in America as the same number of magpies or cuckoos would be in Britain.

THE BALTIMORE ORIOLE is a pretty and interesting bird of passage, arriving in Pennsylvania from the south about the beginning of May, and departing towards the latter end of August, or beginning of September. From the singularity of its colours, the construction of its nest, and its preferring the apple-trees, weeping-wil lows, walnut and tulip-trees, ad-, joining the farm-house, to build on, it is generally known, and is usually. honoured with a variety of names, such as Hang-nest, Hanging- bird, Golden-robin, Fire-bird, (from the bright orange seen through the green leaves resembling a flash of fire,) but more generally the Baltimore Bird, so named, according to Catesby, from its colours, which are black and orange, being those of the arms or livery of Lord Baltimore, formerly proprietary of Maryland.

Great difference is found in the style, neatness, and finishing of the nests of the Baltimores. Some appear far superior workmen to others; and probably age, Mr Wilson thinks, may improve them in this, as it does in their colours. He procured a great number of their nests all completed, and with eggs. One of these, the neatest, was in the form of a cylinder, of five inches in diameter, and seven inches in depth, round at the bottom. The opening at the top was narrowed, by a horizontal covering, to two inches and a half in diameter. The materials were flax, hemp, tow, hair, and wool, woven into a complete cloth; the whole tightly. sewed through and through with long horse hairs, several of which measured two feet in length. The bottom was composed of thick tufts of cowhair, sewed also with strong horse4 P

hair. This nest was hung on the extremity of the horizontal branch of an apple-tree, fronting the south-east; was visible one hundred yards off, though shaded by the sun; and was the work of a very beautiful and perfect bird. So solicitous is the Baltimore to procure proper materials for his nest, that in the season of building, the women in the country are under the necessity of narrowly watching their thread that may be out bleaching, and the farmer, to secure his young grafts, as the Baltimore finding the former, and the strings which tie the latter, so well adapted for his purpose, frequently carries off both. Skeins of

silk and hanks of thread have been often found, after the leaves are fallen, hanging round the Baltimore's nest; but so woven and entangled as to be entirely irreclaimable. Before the introduction of Europeans, no such material could have been obtained; but, with the sagacity of a good architect, he has improved the circumstance to his advantage, and the strongest and best materials are uniformly found in those parts by which the whole is supported.

"The song of the Baltimore is a clear mellow whistle, repeated at short intervals as he gleans among the branches. There is in it a certain wild plaintiveness and naïveté extremely interesting. It is not uttered with the rapidity of the ferruginous thrush (Turdus Rufus), and some other eminent songsters, but with the pleasing tranquillity of a careless plough-boy whistling merely for his own amusement. When alarmed by an approach to his nest, or any such circumstance, he makes a kind of rapid chirruping, very different from his usual note. This, however, is always succeeded by those mellow tones which seem so congenial to his nature.

C High on yon poplar, clad in glossiest green, The orange, black-capp'd Baltimore is seen; The broad extended boughs still please him best,

Beneath their bending skirts he hangs his nest;

There his sweet mate, secure from every harm,

Broods o'er her spotted store and wraps them warm;

Lists to the noontide hum of busy bees, Her partner's mellow song, the brook, the breeze;

There day by day, the lonely hours deceive, From dewy morn to slow descending eve, Two weeks elapsed, behold a hapless crew! Claim all her care and her affection too; On wings of Love th' assiduous nurses fly, Flowers, leaves, and boughs abundant food supply;

Glad chants their guardian as abroad he goes,

And waving breezes rock them to repose.

"The Baltimore inhabits North America, from Canada to Mexico, and is even found as far south as Brazil. Since the streets of our cities have been planted with that beautiful and stately tree, the Lombardy poplar, these birds are our constant visitors during the early part of summer; and amid the noise and tumult of coaches, drays, wheelbarrows, and the din of the multitude, they are heard chanting their native wood notes wild ;' sometimes, too, within a few yards of an oysterman, who stands bellowing with the lungs of a Stentor, under the shade of the same tree; so much will habit reconcile even birds to the roar of the city, and to sounds and noises, that, in other

circumstances, would put a whole grove

of them to flight."

THE WOOD THRUSH of America, called also the Wood Robin, and by others the Ground Robin, is in all things a delightful bird; and he is certainly described by Mr Wilson in the spirit of delight.

"This sweet and solitary songster inhabits the whole of North America, from Hudson's Bay to the peninsula of Florida. He arrives in Pennsylvania about the 20th of April, or soon after; and returns to the south about the beginning of October. The lateness or earliness of the season seems to make less difference in the times of arrival of our birds of pas-" sage than is generally imagined. Early in April, the woods are often in considerable forwardness, and scarce a summer bird to be seen. On the other hand, vegetation is sometimes no farther advanced on the 20th of April, at which time (e. g. this present year 1807,) numbers of wood thrushes are seen flitting through the moist woody hollows; and a variety of the Motacilla genus chattering from almost every bush, with scarce an expanded leaf to conceal them. But at whatever time the wood thrush may arrive, he soon announces his presence in the woods. With the dawn of the suc ceeding morning, mounting to the top of some tall tree that rises from a low thickshaded part of the woods, he pipes his few, but clear and musical notes in a kind of ecstacy; the prelude, or symphony to which strongly resembles the double-tongueing of a German flute, and sometimes the tinkling of a small bell; the whole song consists of five or six parts, the last note of each of which is in such a tone as to leave the conclusion evidently suspended; the finale is finely managed, and with such charming effect, as to soothe and tranquillize the mind, and to seem sweeter and mellower at each

successive repetition, Rural songsters, of the same species, challenge each other from different parts of the wood, seeming to vie for softer tones and more exquisite responses. During the burning heat of the day, they are comparatively mute; but in the evening the same melody is renewed, and continued long after sunset. Those who visit our woods, or ride out into the country at these hours, during the months of May or June, will be at no loss to recognize, from the above description, this pleasing musician. Even in dark, wet, and gloomy weather, when scarce a single chirp is heard from any other bird, the clear notes of the wood thrush thrill through the dropping woods, from morning to night; and it may be truly said, that the sadder the day the sweeter is his song.

"Those who have paid minute attention to the singing of birds know well, that the voice, energy, and expression, in the same tribe, differ as widely as the voices of different individuals of the human species, or as one singer does from another. The powers of song in some individuals of the wood thrush have often surprised and delighted me. Of these, I remember one, many years ago, whose notes I could instantly recognize on entering the woods, and with whom I had been, as it were, acquainted from his first arrival. The top of a large white oak that overhung part of the glen, was usually the favourite pinnacle from whence he poured the sweetest melody; to which I had frequently listened till night began to gather in the woods, and the fire-flies to sparkle among the branches. But, alas! in the favourite language of the poet

• One morn I miss'd him on the accustomed hill,

Along the vale, and in his favourite treeAnother came, nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the glen, nor in the wood was he!' A few days afterwards, passing along the edge of the rocks, I found fragments of the wings and broken feathers of a wood thrush killed by the hawk, which I contemplated with unfeigned regret, and not without a determination to retaliate on the first of these murderers I could meet with."

THE RED-BREASTED THRUSH, or ROBIN, is, like other orders of the American thrushes, a bird of passage. But he is especially unsettled, and continually roving about from one region to another during fall and winter. Scarce a winter passes but innumerable thousands of them are seen in the lower parts of the whole Atlantic States, from New Hampshire to Carolina, particularly in the neigh

bourhood of towns; and from the circumstance of their leaving, during that season, the country to the northwest of the Alleghany, from Maryland northward, it would appear that they not only migrate from north to south, but from west to east, to avoid the deep snows that generally prevail in those high regions for at least four months in the year. The red-breasted thrush is frequently domesticated, agrees well with confinement, and sings in that state with great cheerfulness. A lady in Tarrington, on the banks of the Hudson, informed Mr Wilson, that she reared and kept one of these birds for seventeen years, which sung as well and looked as sprightly at that age as ever; but it at last went the way of all caged birds —a cat devoured it. The morning is their favourite time for song. In passing through the streets of the larger towns, on Sunday, in the months of April and May, a little after daybreak, the general silence which usually prevails without at that hour, will enable you to distinguish any house where one of these songsters resides, as he makes it ring with his music.

"The Robin is one of our earliest songsters; even in March, while snow yet dapples the fields, and flocks of them are dispersed about, some few will mount a post, or stake of the fence, and make short and frequent attempts at their song. Early in April, they are only to be seen in pairs, and deliver their notes with great earnestness, from the top of some tree detached from the woods.

"This song has some resemblance to, and indeed is no bad imitation of the notes of the Thrush or Thrasher (Turdus Rufus), but if deficient in point of execution, he possesses more simplicity; and makes up in zeal what he wants in talents, so that the notes of the Robin, in Spring, are universally known, and universally beloved. They are, as it were, the prelude to the grand general concert, that is about to burst upon us from woods, fields, and thickets whitened with blossoms, and breathing fragrance. By the usual association of ideas, we therefore listen with more pleasure to this cheerful bird, than to many others, possessed of far superior powers, and much greater variety. Even his nest is held more sacred among school-boys than that of some others; and while they will exult in plundering a Jay's or a Catbird's, a general sentiment of respect prevails on the discovery of a Robin's. Whether he