this view. To be able to speak critically of the love-song, one should pay especial regard to the love-life of birds. It would be to throw water into the sea to add to what ornithological writers have advanced concerning the exceeding vital worth and cosmical significance of love. Nevertheless, I venture the opinion that the origin of the song-habit is to be found in other sources as well as in this important factor, among which is the joy of life, manifested in an irresistible determination to announce itself in melody; and that the song is more perfectly brought out in proportion as this feeling is more highly developed in the organization. Birds in freedom begin to sing long before pairing, and continue it, subject to interruptions, long afterward, though all passion has been extinguished; and domesticated birds sing through the whole year without regard to breeding-time, though no female or companion ever be in sight. Such birds, born in captivity, never feel the loss of freedom, and, if they are well taken care of, are always hearty and in good spirits. The bird sings, to a large extent, for his own pleasure; for he frequently lets himself out lustily when he knows he is all alone. In the spring-time of love, when all life is invigorated, and the effort to win a mate by ardent wooing is crowned with the joy of triumph, the song reaches its highest perfection. But the male bird also sings to entertain his mate during the arduous nest-building and hatching, to cheer the young, and, if he be a domesticated bird, to give pleasure to his lord and the providence that takes care of him, and in doing so to please himself. Lastly, the bird sings—by habit, as we call it—because the tendency is innate in the organs of song to exercise themselves.
My male hedge-sparrow, whose truly devoted care of its solitary young one I have described, began, after a ten days' pause, to sing more frequently and intensively, although neither a female nor a male of his species was in the neighborhood, apparently to cheer his ward. His evening farewells, uttered in a clear voice, were peculiarly expressive and touching. When, after eight days more, the chick began of itself to pick food from the dish and to snap at flies, the old bird discontinued its daytime feeding and singing, and came only at night. When the young bird was ready to fly, it came no more.
Female birds, as a rule, do not sing. The mechanism of their vocal apparatus is the same as that of the males, though with a weaker muscularity; and they are not wanting in ability to give melodious and vigorous expression to the exuberance of their life, but they seem to have lost the habit, or to be without the disposition to do so. Some authors, with Daines Barrington and Darwin, regard their non-inclination to sing as a mark of prudence; for it would be dangerous for them to make themselves conspicuous during the breeding-season, and direct the attention of enemies to their nests with their precious contents. But some other authors suggest, and I am inclined to agree with them, that they are restrained by a feminine reserve. The knowl-
