great ornithologists, Wilson and Audubon, are lavish in their praises
of the former, but have little or nothing to say of the song of the
latter. Audubon says it is sometimes agreeable, but evidently has
never heard it. Nuttall, I am glad to find, is more discriminating,
and does the bird fuller justice.

It is quite a rare bird, of very shy and secluded habits, being found
in the Middle and Eastern States, during the period of song, only in
the deepest and most remote forests, usually in damp and swampy
localities. On this account the people in the Adirondack region call
it the "Swamp Angel." Its being so much of a recluse accounts for the
comparative ignorance that prevails in regard to it.

The cast of its song is very much like that of the wood thrush, and a
good observer might easily confound the two. But hear them together
and the difference is quite marked: the song of the hermit is in a
higher key, and is more wild and ethereal. His instrument is a silver
horn which he winds in the most solitary places. The song of the wood
thrush is more golden and leisurely. Its tone comes near to that of
some rare stringed instrument. One feels that perhaps the wood thrush
has more compass and power, if he would only let himself out, but on
the whole he comes a little short of the pure, serene, hymn-like
strain of the hermit.

Yet those who have heard only the wood thrush may well place him first
on the list. He is truly a royal minstrel, and, considering his
liberal distribution throughout our Atlantic seaboard, perhaps
contributes more than any other bird to our sylvan melody. One may
object that he spends a little too much time in tuning his instrument,
yet his careless and uncertain touches reveal its rare compass and