shelter of a mountain-ash, motionless and silent, "thinking of nothing," and deadened in my feelings. At length, hunched at my shoulders, and moving only my mouth, I ventured upon a meek exercise of my voice; hoping that my watchful mother, or my mate, would catch the sound of even so faint a cry, and thus arrive to witness my restoration, and to rejoin the broken links which should hold me to my species. But I listened, received no answer, became dumb once more, and sat dejected and inactive. Again, however, I called, and, this time, a little louder than before, and yet again received no answer. At this, I grew disappointed, fretful, and impatient; but my irritation was of service to me. It roused me to bolder efforts, and to a determination to be heard. I cried again. I said, "Mother, I am here; I am free; those who molested me have let me go!" No answer. "Mother, mother!" I screamed out; "mother and mate, mate and mother, I am here! I am bere!". "Where, where?" returned, at last, the honeyed voice of my mother!" Here, here!" I replied; and "Where, where?" was again her question. "In this mountain-ash!" was my reply; but while I yet answered, I had already spread my wings, and was flying in the direction of her voice; and she, too, had been impelled by her ears, even while she cried out 'Where, where;" so, that we met mid-way in the air, and alighted together against the almost upright branches of an eringo-bush, where, at the same instant came my mate, flying and crying, the more strongly both, the nearer she approached us; and now too, our neighbour Red-breasts, discovering the event, came also, with quick songs of pleasure. Oh! you should have heard the mingled and strangely-shifting music of the quire; how expressive, how intelligent, how fond, how

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plainly descriptive of the story! There was no need of words, for sounds said every thing! Sounds asked questions; sounds returned replies; sounds poured out pity; sounds were full of thanks; sounds expressed all emotions;-sorrow, commiseration, joy, and love! Articulation was unwanted; variety of tone and accent, this did all. The bushes rang with our clamour! We Red-breasts, as we have little relish for the society of any other species of bird than our own, so likewise we are not, in general, very sociable among ourselves; but a great occasion, like that which I am now describing, might well lead, as it did lead, to some brief departure from our solitary habits!

The sun, however, was, by this time, descending low; and our suppers were not only to be eaten, but even to be found. We hunted, therefore, and fed, separately or altogether, as food offered itself to our bills. I, for my part, fed, but soon grew sleepy; and I slept.

With the first dawn of the morning, I was again awake and hungry; but I was one of nature's commoners by birth, and might make prize of any thing that suited me. Worms and insects were stirring, like myself; so, that I gave chase as the game rose, and was soon breakfasted. Nothing remained but to pick up the dainties that might afterward fall in my way, and to visit my friends, and the pretty garden, at Burford Cottage; from both of which, through adverse fortune, I had now been absent for two whole days. This morning, at the cottage breakfast-hour, I promised myself a renewal of the pleasures which I derived from them, and from which I trusted never more to be rent asunder!

Sometimes springing, therefore, and sometimes

gliding, from bush to bush, and from tree to tree, I found myself, almost as soon as I pleased, in front of the friendly windows; but where every thing was yet in stillness within doors, and where I amused myself, for some time, quietly and alone, without.

The morning was bright and warm, and the earth continued heated by the effect of the summer rays, though the sun, for an ample month past, had been sped southward down the ecliptic. The dahlias or georgias*, the asters and the holyoaks + continued in luxuriant and gorgeous bloom; there were the soft pink flowers of the tobacco-plant, and the heliotropes, with their large and small "patines of bright gold," still illuminating and blushing in the borders; and the air was still sweet with jasmin and clematis; the stocks kept their lasting spikes of blossom, and the well-pruned China-roses seemed resolved even that the winter should look as smiling and as beauteous as the spring. With these temptations, too, the windows of the cottage were still as open to the floor, and to the velvet carpet of the grass-plot, as in the most beaming and most flowery of the mornings of July. Thus I saw and heard every thing in the parlour, as soon as its guests appeared, but was myself silent under the foliage; and if I sunk upon the mould, or rose again among the branches, I moved so gently that nothing was struck nor shaken, and that no bending or recovering spray, nor no falling nor rustling leaf, told that I was moving, or had moved.

I confess that I preserved this quietude and silence

* It is known that these flowers are variously called dahlias, from Dahl, a German horticulturalist; and georgias, from Georgia, in North America, their native country.

+ Vulgo, hollyhocks.

a good deal in the secret hope, that at least in the course of the family-breakfast that was to begin, my ears would be soothed, and my heart warmed, by overhearing some expression of regret, or at the lowest, some manifestation of surprise, that, for two whole mornings, and two whole evenings, I had neither been heard nor seen; a vanity (if it was one) which I defend from the same argument that, though upon a different occasion, I have already held, as to the value which, happily, and for the benefit of all creatures, all creatures place upon the love, attachment, and good opinion of all other creatures!

Nor was I long before I received the tribute that I wished for: "The Robin is not come this morning, mamma," said Richard, "any more than yesterday; and I am sadly afraid that it was I who frightened him away!"

"I hope not, my dear," answered Mrs. Paulett, "for we are all of us pleased when he comes to us; as, indeed, every body is; for the Red-breast is a general favourite. But it was early in the season for us to hear him, as we did on Tuesday last; so, that we are hardly to expect him now, or at least to expect him every day, and must wait till the weather grows colder. You know that the Robin is a very shy bird at all other times; and, upon the whole, I am in hopes that he does not keep away because you frightened him."

"Mamma!" said Emily, "is every body as fond of Robin as we are?"

"I really fancy so, my Emily," returned Mrs. Paulett; "and though this particular bird has some peculiar claims upon ourselves, which we will consider another time, yet, in general, the love of nature, and of all

natural things, is one of those happy ties and meeting-places that bring all the world together; gentle and simple, young and old; the great, the grave, the humble, and the gay. It is recorded, for example, of Sir Thomas More, once Lord High Chancellor of England, the zealous advocate of Grecian learning, at a time when that great light of the human intellect was the scorn and detestation of the then barbarians of the English universities; and finally, Sir Thomas More, the martyr to undaunted principle, civil and religious, under the outrageous tyranny, and through the personal wickedness, of his original admirer, Henry the Eighth; Sir Thomas More added to his love of all the works of art, an unbounded love and curiosity as to all the works of nature. Besides his fondness for all our native species in the animal creation, to which he added the culture of astronomy, and of the natural sciences in general; if any new or curious foreign beast or bird was brought to London, he was sure to go to see it, and often to purchase it, adding it to his collection at Chelsea; where, besides books and music, and sculpture and painting, he had numerous specimens in natural history, living and dead, in which he and his family took delight, and which he exhibited to his friends-Henry himself, at one period, not excepted. I have not read, indeed, that Sir Thomas More was particularly remarked for his love of Robinred-breasts; but I have no doubt, that, at least, he did not neglect such pretty birds as those, amid his regard for the whole natural kingdom!"

“But, mamma,” interrupted Richard, " you said, the other day, that you would let us read, in a book which you would show us, the fondness of a very grave and zealous preacher, who died but lately,