The Passerine Birds are citizens of the world; they can endure the climate of icy mountains and northern snows, and are met with in the glowing regions of the tropics. Hills and valleys, woods or fields, the reed-covered swamps or treeless plains, are equally tenanted by various races, as is the crowded city or the barren desert. In all these localities they will build their nests and educate their young. Turn where we will, we see them--indeed, they are as much a part of the landscape as the earth and sky. Notwithstanding the fondness they exhibit for wooded countries, we can by no means venture to call them _tree_-birds, as many species live exclusively upon the ground, and all frequent it more constantly than even the parrots. Open country near a wood is their favourite resort, and from thence they visit the surrounding gardens and brushwood. They are found but in small numbers either in deep forests, or on barren plains and mountains. Seeds, fruits, birds, and insects form their usual nourishment, and but few appear to be dainty in their selection. The Passeres are, almost without exception, of a social disposition, and solitary birds are seldom seen; they live in pairs during the breeding season, and keep together in parties throughout the remainder of the year, these parties occasionally increasing until they become large flocks. It is usual to find several different species living together in this manner, and associating for many months; the cleverest become the leaders of the rest, and are obeyed, perhaps we should say imitated, by their little followers. Such are the flocks that settle on our fields in autumn, after they have reared their young and moulted their feathers. In the winter they generally establish themselves in our farmyards and streets. Many species leave their homes annually, and go southwards at the commencement of the winter; others only wander or take occasional journeys, whilst some are stationary. Our part of the world yearly receives a large number of guests from colder latitudes, in exchange for the native birds that have left us to winter farther south. During very severe weather, we are often visited by species from the far north, that perhaps have not been amongst us for years, driven from their home by a deficiency of the food that they generally find in their own country. Some amongst them seem to pay so little regard to the change of season that they will breed at any time of the year, and will carry on the work of incubation exposed to the icy cold of a northern winter, or the exhausting heat of the tropics. For the most part, however, they recognise the arrival of spring, and, like the poets, are inspired with their tenderest feelings during the month of May. At that season the large flocks have dispersed, and each pair is intent upon the duties inseparable from incubation to a degree that is seldom equalled by other birds. Their beaks are then as frequently employed in doing battle with