s careless and uncertain touches reveal its
rare compass and power.

He is the only songster of my acquaintance, excepting the Canary, that
displays different degrees of proficiency in the exercise of his musical
gifts. Not long since, while walking one Sunday in the edge of an
orchard adjoining a wood, I heard one that so obviously and unmistakably
surpassed all his rivals, that my companion, though slow to notice such
things, remarked it wonderingly; and with one accord we threw ourselves
upon the grass and drank in the bounteous melody. It was not different
in quality so much as in quantity. Such a flood of it! Such magnificent
copiousness! Such long, trilling, deferring, accelerating preludes! Such
sudden, ecstatic overtures would have intoxicated the dullest ear. He
was really without a compeer, a master artist. Twice afterward I was
conscious of having heard the same bird.

The Wood-Thrush is the handsomest species of this family. In grace and
elegance of manner he has no equal. Such a gentle, high-bred air, and
such inimitable ease and composure in his flight and movement! He is a
poet in very word and deed. His carriage is music to the eye. His
performance of the commonest act, as catching a beetle or picking a worm
from the mud, pleases like a stroke of wit or eloquence. Was he a prince
in the olden time, and do the regal grace and mien still adhere to him
in his transformation? What a finely proportioned form! How plain, yet
rich his color,--the bright russet of his back, the clear white of his
breast, with the distinct heart-shaped spots! It may be objected to
Robin that he is noisy and demonstrative; he hurries away or rises to a
branch with an angry note, and flirts his wings in ill-bred suspicion.
The Mavis, or Red Thrush, sneaks and skulks like a culprit, hiding in
the densest Alders; the Cat-Bird is a coquette and a flirt, as well as a
sort of female Paul Pry; and the Chewink shows his inhospitality by
espying your movements like a Japanese. The Wood-Thrush has none of
these under-bred traits. He regards me unsuspiciously, or avoids me with
a noble reserve,--or, if I am quiet and incurious, graciously hops
toward me, as if to pay his respects, or to make my acquaintance. Pass
near his nest, under the very branch, within a few feet of his mate and
brood, and he opens not his beak; he concedes you the right to pass
there, if it lies in your course; but pause an instant, raise your hand
toward the defencel