see. our knowledge, by their watchful observations, with a zeal and intelligence worthy of all praise. The advice which Mr. Audubon gives to any who resolve to tread the path where he has gone before them, illustrates his own character and ways of proceeding. It is to leave nothing to memory; in some things it may be safely trusted, but not in these observations. They must be carefully written down with ink, and not with the treacherous pencil. If the adventurer should traverse hundreds of miles, searching all the woods, barrens, shores, and marshes, he must not permit himself to be vexed with his ill success; for sometimes, after days and even weeks of unrewarded labor, one may enter a grove, or come upon a pond, or find his way through the tall grass of the prairie, and there have at once before him what he most desires to He imagines one of these wayfarers on the side of the Rocky Mountains, alone with Nature, surrounded by turrets of stone, shooting up all about him to the skies. His trusty gun has brought down a pheasant; the demands of science are first to be answered. He takes an exact measurement of all its parts, and notes down a short description, which is read twice over, in order to correct errors and supply what is wanting. The skin is then taken off with care; but, instead of listening to what hunger has to say, he follows Mr. Macgillivray's directions, and examines the internal organs with even more care than the outward markings. This done, he feels at liberty to think of his own wants, which begin to be somewhat clamorous; and, after broiling the bird on a fire kindled with his fowling-piece, he washes it down with Nature's own champaign from the neighbouring brook, which satisfies his thirst, and leaves no aching head. Then he lies down, like Jacob in the wilderness, with a stone for his pillow, but dreams neither of earth, nor of heaven, nor of the ladder that connects the two. In the morning, he packs his bird-skin, rolls up his drawing, and goes on his way rejoicing; sometimes with success, sometimes without it, but always satisfied that the pursuit itself, like virtue, is its own sufficient reward. In this volume, Mr. Audubon gives an account of a short excursion to the Highlands of Scotland, in company with his friend Macgillivray, which is interesting, though not connected with the case in hand; interesting because it is char acteristic, showing how he, after his education in the American wilderness, was affected by scenery which resembles it in wildness, though not in power. This is what interests us in every well-written tour; the more we know of the writer, the more does it engage us; because we are able, from a comparison of ourselves with him, to know how we should be affected in the places which he visited, and with the scenes before us which he saw. Mr. Audubon took passage at Edinburgh in a small steam-boat bound for Stirling. The skies were clear and serene, the waters were alive with shoals of fish, the gulls keeping watch above them; the cormorants stood pondering on the rocks, and the guillemots and auks dived or flew away as the boat approached them. The steam-boat was deliberate enough for a passage-boat, but it went too fast. for him, and he solemnly resolved, that, if ever he visited the Highlands again, it should be on foot, "since no man, with nerve and will, and an admirer of the beauties of nature, can ever truly enjoy the beauties of travelling unless he proceed in that manner.” After passing the night at Callender, his nature speaks again. If travellers are sluggards, I pity them in my heart; for, depend upon it, nature is never more beautiful, than when she bathes herself in the morn in her own dewy waters." The meadows, though it was autumn, were yet green, the hills purpled with heather, and, as the sun's rays dispelled the mist that lingered on the summits of the mountains, he thought he had never beheld scenery that interested him more. But his own pursuits recur to him, and he says, "Had we dog, and gun, and privilege to shoot, we might strike perhaps a grouse, perhaps a black-cock." But the roar of a cataract comes upon his ear; the stream, descending into the ravine, is on its way to the river below. He descends the rocky pass, steps over a crazy bridge, reaches the projecting angle of a rock, and gazes upon the scene. He had seen hundreds of streams equally turbulent; but none so curiously confined in its rocky banks, nor so abrupt in its various falls. He thought of the retreat it must have afforded to the Celts in their wars with their Saxon neighbours, but was powerfully reminded of similar natural fortresses belonging to our own sons of the forest, where they are not yet dislodged by the avarice of those, who, -lucus a non lucendo, so fantastically denominate themselves civilized men. When he came to the Trosachs, so renowned in Scottish minstrelsy, he was regaled, at the inn, with the sight of many who had come from various parts of the three kingdoms, either to enjoy the scenery, or to be able to say that they had been there. This intelligent party were smoking their cigars, and prating about the merits of their wines, evidently regarding their dinner as the most important concern of life. It never occurred to him, that this was a trait of national character; he was too much a man of sense, to run from slender premises into rash and sweeping conclusions. But, the male and female wiseacres from abroad who bless our country with their presence, if they find a few such examples in the neighbourhood of romantic scenery, are ready to die in the faith, that Americans are no lovers of nature, and that it was a strange oversight to place Niagara in a land so tasteless as ours. He remarks, that the crags of the Trosachs did not affect him so powerfully, covered with verdure, as if they had been bare; not because they were not grand in themselves, but because he had been accustomed to vast forests and majestic trees at home. But we cannot follow him in his tour, and will only express the hope, that he will hereafter find some opportunity to give the world more of his fresh and bold descriptions of what he has seen in his various wanderings. We have much already in his episodes; but there must be hundreds of passages more, of equal, perhaps greater interest, to readers, if not to him. We find, in tales of common experience, that the most homely description of humble life takes stronger hold of the feelings, than the most ambitious imaginations; so there are many things which travellers pass over, because they are familjar; and yet, if they could but be persuaded of it, these are the very things, which the reader is most desirous to know. traits, too, like that of Bewick, might be added, without any violation of propriety; for, while coxcombs, male and female too, if such a thing may be, can hardly tread upon that ground without offending, there is no danger, that a modest, sensible, and well-bred man, shall wound the feelings of any, or make it necessary for the hospitable to close their doors. Por The first three birds described in the fifth volume, are dif ferent kinds of troopial, lately discovered in the West. The first, the red and white-winged troopial, Icterus tricolor, was found by Mr. Nuttall in Upper California, where it is very abundant round Santa Barbara, in the month of April. It bears a strong resemblance to our red-wing in its notes and general appearance, but the bill is more slender, the tail is even, not rounded, and the red on the wing is carmine, edged with white, instead of scarlet, edged with pale yellow, as in the other. They move about in large, whirling flocks, with great noise, feeding principally on the larvæ of blowflies, which are found in the offal of cattle, killed near the town for the sake of their hides. The yellow-headed troopial (Icterus xantho-cephalus), which was discovered by the naturalists of Major Long's expedition, is also described. It was found by Mr. Nuttall, around the Kansa (Texan) agency, in company with the cow-bird, not knowing, perhaps, that the proverb, Noscitur ex sociis, will apply to birds as well as men. It has no note, that can be called a song, but, as it thrusts its bill into the ground, in search of insects, makes a chuckling sound, tapering off into a squeak, inferior in melody even to the cow-bird's. Another troopial, called Bullock's (Icterus Bullockii), is found in the same localities with the last. It resembles our beautiful Baltimore in many respects, building its nest in the same manner, but not comparing with it in clearness and power of song. Dr. Townsend found it in the black hills and the forests of Columbia River. Mr. Audubon notices the points of resemblance between some of the grakles and troopials. The crow-blackbirds and red-wings, together with the cow-birds, move about in flocks, where they may have the benefit of man's agricultural labors. All are incessant talkers, with notes more chattering than musical; and, though their bills differ in shape, their food is the This running of different kinds into each other shows how necessary, and, at the same time, how difficult it is, to depend on common classification. same. The present volume extends our acquaintance among the finches, and one of them, resembling our beautiful fox-colored sparrow, is very properly named Fringilla Townsendi, in honor of him to whose enterprise we are indebted for the discovery. He found it numerous in the plains of the Colorado of the West, in the Rocky Mountains. It is a very active and shy bird, keeping constantly in the low bushes on the ground. Its voice is a sharp, quick chirp, and occasionally a low, weak warble. Dr. Townsend and Mr. Nuttall also discovered F. bicolor, a sort of cousin of our bob-o-link, on the plains of the Platte, where it feeds on the ground, in the same manner with our grass-finch, to which it is somewhat allied. While the flocks are feeding, the males are seen to rise suddenly to a great height in the air, and, hovering there with their wings in rapid motion, they sing a number of very sweet and animated notes, after which, they immediately resume their places on the ground. Mr. Nuttall thinks it the sweetest minstrel of the prairie, the whole employment of the tame and unsuspicious parties being to rival each other in song. Dr. Townsend discovered a relation of our common snowbird in the woods of the Columbia; but, unlike ours, always keeping in the depth of the forest, and never coming out in the fields or way-sides. Its song was not heard at that season, nor were the naturalists able to procure its nest, eggs, or young. They gave it the name of F. Oregona, from the region where it dwells. They also found a finch, F. arctica, resembling our common ground-robin, which was first described by Mr. Swainson, in the "Fauna Boreali-Americana." They found it entirely confined to the western side of the Rocky Mountains. It is more timid than our species, and, instead of the double note pee-wink, it mews like the catbird. In its partiality for the ground, its nest, and many of its habits, it strongly resembles ours. A single specimen of a green-tailed sparrow, F. chlorura, was found by Dr. Townsend; but it was young, and the plumage not fully developed ; of its habits, he learned nothing. Beside these new species, much has been added to our acquaintance with the habits of those already known. In his account of the Louisiana Hawk, Falco Harrisii, so called for his friend, Edward Harris, Esquire, Mr. Audubon introduces some curious and valuable remarks upon the flight of birds, which is generally so characteristic, that as far as he can see them, he can distinguish them by their motion. It is generally supposed, that their rapidity is in proportion to the length of their wings; but this, he says, is an error. swiftness depends not upon the size or shape of the wings, but on the force and muscular energy with which they move Their |