Having thus given an unsystemized and rather imperfect account of a few species of tropical birds, I pass on to treat of the most marvellous and most beautiful tribe of plumed creatures that float in the invisible atmosphere. There have been more than a hundred species already discovered, and every naturalist, who visits the equatorial regions of this Western World, adds a new name to the splendid schedule of HUMMING-BIRDS.[2] From their delicate structure, these tiny birds cannot endure the rigors of our climate, where there are very few of those gorgeous plants, upon which they banquet in tropical latitudes. There, when the warm sun calls into life myriads of flowers, vast numbers of humming-birds visit the fields and gardens every morning, and mingle their golden-green tints in gleaming contrast with the white and rose-colored blossoms, that cluster on the vines above the traveller’s head, or spring luxuriantly at his feet. They seem, as they dart rapidly around, humming their faintly heard tunes, to be the very Pucks and Ariels of the light, and each night take up the burden of the fairy song, sung at the feast of Titania, Over hill, over dale, Through bush, through brier, Over park, over pale, Through flood, through fire, I do wander every where, Swifter than the moon’s sphere. For, at one moment, you behold “the fine apparition” before the cup of a flower, and at the next he is gone “To drink the air before him and return Or ere your pulse twice beat.” The bright little beings must own the very best secret of the fairies; for none, so well as they, “Know a bank whereon the wild thyme blows, Where oxslips and the nodding violet grows, Quite over canopied with luscious woodbine, With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine.”