gale is a bird of passage, and now that the sea-voyage is so much shorter, possibly, if the experiment were repeated, it might succeed. Birds are great travellers, and they have undoubtedly spread themselves over the world as we now find them. Within our own short history, we know of well-accredited instances of changes in their course. In this very State we now have the singular Cliff-swallow, which a few years since was entirely unknown, and the first seen here were a solitary pair. The Catbirds also are said to have been unknown on the Genesee until several years after the country had been opened. Blue-birds and robins are far more numerous than they used to be, while on the other hand several birds are known to have deserted our neighborhood for regions more to their taste, such as the quail, the kill-deers, the crested woodpeckers, &c., &c.
The sky-lark is more hardy than the nightingale, and possibly might bear our climate better, though not a migratory bird. Of the two, we should perhaps prefer the lark. In the first place, he sings more or less the whole year round, and never deserts his native fields, while the nightingale is only in voice for a few weeks in May and June. And then the habits of the lark are peculiar to himself. There is no act of the eagle so noble in character as the uprising of the lark to greet the sun; it is the very sublime of action. We know nothing within the whole range of nature more eloquent. If we may believe Lafontaine, this bird likes to build his lowly nest in a grain-field—
| “ | Les alouettes font leur nid |
| Dans les blès, quand ils sont en herbe.” |
The lark of the fable sings wittily, rather than lyrically; but
