From Neckam we learn how great was the love for animals in the Middle Ages; how ready people, apparently of all classes, were to observe and note the peculiarities of animated nature, and especially how fond they were of tamed and domestic animals. We see that the mediæval castles and great mansions were like so many menageries of rare beasts of all kinds. It is in the stories told by Neckam, also, that we become more than ever acquainted with the attachment of our mediæval forefathers to the chase, and to all the animals connected with it. Beginning with the King of Birds, the Eagle, however, he offers no new facts; though he makes it the subject of numerous moralisings. With the lesser birds of prey he becomes communicative of his anecdotes. He recounts how a Hawk one day, by craft and accident and not by mere strength, killed an Eagle. "This occurred in Great Britain, the King of which country, with his courtiers, were witnesses of the occurrence. The courtiers applauded the ferocity of the smaller and weaker bird, which, too, had only killed its adversary in self-defence; but the King interfered, reproved his followers for expressing sentiments which justified the employment of force by vassals against their Sovereigns, and ordered the Hawk to be hanged immediately as guilty of treason." Another anecdote places the reputation of the Hawk in a less obnoxious light. It was one of the characteristics of that bird, as Neckam tells us, in the cold of winter, to seize in its claws a Partridge, wild Chick, or some other bird, and hold it under its belly all night, in order to profit by its warmth; and when the warmth of day returned, the Hawk, however hungry it might be, spared the bird, in consideration of the service thus derived from it, and displayed the noble nature of the bird of prey, the fit representative of the Feudal Baron, by setting it at liberty. Neckam tells another story of a Falcon which revenged itself on an Eagle; and another of a Weasel which caught a Sparrowhawk and dragged it under the water. We may pass over his account of the Phoenix, which is taken from the ancients; but that which he tells us of the Parrot shows how great a favourite it was as a cage-bird even in our islands during the Middle Ages. He speaks especially of its mischievous cunning and of its skill in imitating the human voice, adding that, for exciting people's mirth, it was preferable even to the jongleurs. It must, however, be acknowledged that Neckam's wonderful anecdotes become at times rather legendary.