ticular, worthless as we esteem them, and of little value as they were then considered, are especially pointed out in another place as not beneath the protecting care of Him who hath formed them.

The sparrow has been, by some naturalists, supposed to be a short liver while others say his existence is prolonged to the period of eighteen or twenty years. This, however, is a point by no means clearly ascertained; but if they live thus long, as well as multiply with rapidity, it is no wonder we are surrounded by such countless multitudes.

TO THE SPARROW.

They say thou'rt a bold and a thievish bird,
And thy mischievous ways I have known full well;
But none are so wholly bad, I have heard,
But there's some good thing we may find to tell.
And so, saucy sparrow, I'll try and see,

If any good thing may be told of thee.

Yes, I see thee there, with thy short, thick beak,
And the saucy glance of thy roguish eye;
"Tis as tho' my favour thou wouldst bespeak,
Or ask, in thy pertness, the reason why
I never have search'd thy hist'ry, to see
How many good things may be told of thee.

I will do thee justice, thou saucy one:

I have turn'd to my book-thy name is here;
I see there are some good things thou hast done;
Thou hast held thy wife and thy children dear.
As the sire of thy feather'd family

There is some good thing to be told of thee.

With unwearied tenderness, day by day,

Thou hast nursed them well, and their wants supplied; And even when borne as captives away,

The prison-grate scared thee not from their side.

Thou fed'st them still as if they were free;

Sing bravo! that this can be told of thee.

Dost linger here still, with thy saucy face?
I've no more praise for thee, roguish elf;
For even thy tenderly cherished race,

I fear, will be train'd up thieves like thyself.
'Tis well, bold sparrow, there ever should be,
Even one good deed recorded of thee.

ORDER PASSERES.

The Java Sparrow.

THE habits of this bird seem little known, except as they are exhibited in a state of captivity. He is often brought to our coasts from the spicy islands of the east, and pent in a cage, passes his life as an exile and a prisoner. He is a tract

JAVA SPARROW.

able, teachable little creature, and advantage is too often taken of his docility, to train him to the performance of many absurd tricks, the execution of which must, at first, have been difficult and painful, though use may have rendered them comparatively easy.

The individual Java Sparrow with which we chance to be the best acquainted, happens, much to our satisfaction, to be free from any of these accomplishments. He is a gentlemanly bird, unskilled in any art which would fit him for stage exhibition at a country fair. For some years he has found a tranquil home in the quiet retreat wherein he now dwells: stationed, during the winter, in a sunny window, or, in severe weather, in the warmest corner of the apartment, he passes the cold season pleasantly away, often cheering his mistress by a short, sweet song, almost as soft and low as the faintest notes of an Æolian harp. When summer comes, the cage of the little eastern captive is still seen in the window, then embowered with flowering shrubs. He seems aware of the presence of his mistress, answering her call by a gentle chirp. She has often said, that she believed her little favourite was quite insensible to the charms of music. On one occasion, however, he evinced a lively interest in it. A wandering musician one day paused