song of their sweetest bird in its whole compass? The supposed degradation of his song," he adds, "by the introduction of extraneous sounds and unexpected imitations, is, in fact, one of the chief excellencies of this bird; as these changes give a perpetual novelty to his strain, keep attention constantly awake, and impress every hearer with a deeper interest in what is to follow. In short, if we believe in the truth of that mathematical axiom, that the whole is greater than a part, all that is excellent or delightful, amusing or striking, in the music of birds, must belong to that admirable songster, whose vocal powers are equal to the whole compass of their whole strains *."

So very different a view of the powers of this bird has been stated by a recent author, that we cannot omit taking notice of it, premising, however, that it does not appear whether it has been formed from actual observation or merely from comparing the accounts given in books. "This bird," says the author, "not only sings with taste, and without monotony, but also with action and animation. It is, perhaps, one of the first of singing birds; but to place it above the nightingale, with Fernandez, Nieremburg, and others, can only be done by those who have never heard, or who have entirely forgotten the song of that delightful bird. The voice of the mocking-thrush is more loud and powerful, but by no means so agreeable within a certain distance. Its song has little of the softness, delicacy, and plaintive tenderness that so peculiarly characterize the nightingale during the season of love. As there is no bird among the Americans at all to be compared to the mockingbird, it is not astonishing that they should have exalted it into such an extraordinary character, and raised it above all other birds. They have, however, exaggerated its talents, in stating that it can imitate Amer. Ornith, ii. 21,

completely, and in all their parts, the song of other birds, the cries of different quadrupeds, the crying of infants, the laughter of a young girl, and in being able to repeat entire airs on the same key in which it has heard them. It does not possess the imitative talent to this degree, even in captivity. The mewing of the cat, however, it takes off so completely as to deceive any ear*."

There can be little doubt, we think, that if the bird has been over-rated, and its powers exaggerated, by some who have described it, it is as much underrated in the passage just quoted. The most decisive testimony we have met with upon the point appears to be that of Audubon, who is well acquainted with the notes both of the nightingale and the mockingbird. "Some," he says, "have described the notes of the nightingale as occasionally fully equal to those of our bird. I have frequently heard both species in confinement, and in the wild state, and, without prejudice, have no hesitation in pronouncing the notes of the European philomel equal to those of a soubrette of taste, which, could she study under a Mozart, might perhaps, in time, become very interesting in her way; but to compare her essays to the finished talent of the mocking-bird, is, in my opinion, quite absurd. Good singing birds," he adds, "of this species, often bring a high price; they are long-lived, and very agreeable companions; their imitative powers are amazing, and they mimic with ease all their brethren of the forests, or of the waters, as well as many quadrupeds. I have heard it asserted, that they possess the power of imitating the human voice, but have never met with an instance of the display of the alleged faculty +.”

It is rather a curious circumstance, characterizing, it would appear, the mocking-bird, as well as our Griffith's Cuvier, Anim. Kingd. vi. 540.j +Ornith. Biogr. p. 112.

European birds, that the species distinguished for singing seldom learn to imitate human speech; while those which do not sing, such as the jay, the magpie, and the parrot, are well known as successful imitators. Although, however, this appears to be true, as a general rule, some singular exceptions are upon record in the case of individual birds. Mr. Syme, for instance, tells us of the red-breast, that he knows a lady who possesses one that very distinctly pronounces "How do ye do?" and several other words, taught it by repeating them often while giving it some favourite food*; and Pliny mentions, that "Agrippina the empress, wife to Claudius Cæsar, had a blackbird or a throstle, at what time I compiled this book, which could counterfeit man's speech, a thing never seen nor known before." Pliny states farther, that the two young Cæsars, Drusus and Germanicus, had "sundry nightingales taught to parle Greek and Latin: moreover, they would study upon their lessons, and meditate all day long; and from day to day come out with new words still, yea, and were able to continue a long speech and discourse t."

The most extraordinary instance on record, however, of the possession of this faculty, is given on the testimony of a friend, who witnessed the circumstances, by the celebrated naturalist Gesner, though the story appears so very marvellous that we cannot but suspect it to be exceedingly exaggerated :"Whilst I was at Ratisbon," says Gesner's friend, “I put up at an inn, the sign of the Golden Crown, where my host had three nightingales. What I am going to relate is wonderful, almost incredible, and yet is true. The nightingales were placed separately, so that each was shut up by itself in a dark cage. It happened at that time, being the spring of the year, when those birds are wont to sing indefatigably, that *Brit. Song Birds, p. 126.

Holland's Plinie, i. 693.

of them I found the same materials, consisting of a great variety of substances; stalks of corn, dry grass, moss, hemp, bits of cord, threads of silk and linen, the tip of an ermine's tail, small shreds of gauze, of muslin, and other light stuffs, the feathers of domestic birds, those of the partridge and of the parrot, charcoal,-in short, whatever they can find in the sweepings of towns. But how can birds which never alight on the ground gather these materials? A celebrated observer supposes that they raise them by glancing along the surface of the ground, as they drink by skimming close on the water. Frisch imagines that they catch the substances in the air as they are carried up by the wind. But it is evident that little could be collected in the latter way; and, if the former were true, it would not fail to have been observed in towns. I am inclined to think the account more probable which several plain people have told me, that they have often seen the swifts coming out of swallows' or sparrows' nests, and carrying materials in their claws. This observation is corroborated by several circumstances: first, the swifts' nests consist of nearly the same substances with those of sparrows; secondly, we know that the swifts enter sometimes into the nests of small birds, which we may suppose they do for the sake of pillaging the materials. With regard to the moss which they employ, it is in very small quantity, and they may gather it with their little claws, which are very strong, from trees, on which they can clamber, in the hollows of which they even sometimes breed. Of seven nests found under the head of a church-porch, fifteen feet from the ground, there were only three which had a regular cup-shape, and of which the materials were more or less interwoven, and with greater order than usual in sparrows' nests; they had also more moss and fewer

feathers, and were in general less bulky. The best formed of all weighed two ounces and one dram and a half; the seven together, thirteen ounces and a half; and the largest, five or six times more than the smallest*."

We are not indeed prepared to deny that the swift may occasionally filch a straw or a feather from the nest of the house-sparrow, as rooks may occasionally be seen to steal sticks from the nests of their brethren; but we think it improbable that either this, or their finding feathers floating about on the wind, can be the only modes of procuring materials for building. All birds which employ soft substances, however, will as readily collect them when floating on the air as from the ground; and we have frequently seen the house-sparrow, the goldfinch, and the chaffinch, though never the swift, collect in this way small feathers, tufts of cotton, wool, and the down of willows t.

But to return to the house-sparrow, whose habits of nestling seem to be as various as its food, we may mention that another of its chosen stations is a rookery, where no one who had previously observed it burrowing in a sand-pit, among bankswallows, or creeping, like a garret-mouse, under the tiles or thatch of a house, could have expected to find it associating with rooks, upon the loftiest elms, around a manor-house. Yet in such situations sparrows are very often seen, rearing their offspring contiguous to their more powerful neighbours, the rooks, who seem to take no offence at the sparrows. One thing we believe is certain-that a sparrow never ventures (at least during the breeding season) to nestle in the interior of any rook's nest which has not been abandoned, and is contented with build*Montbeillard, Oiseaux, viii. 218. † J. R.