next morning I found a hummingbird killed by the cold, and hanging by its claws just below a loose clapboard on the wall of a small wooden building where it had sought shelter.] The great proportional numbers of birds, their migratory habits, and the ease with which, by their power of flight they may escape most dangers that beset them, would seem to secure them from extirpation, and even from very great numerical reduction. But experience shows that when not protected by law, by popular favor or superstition, or by other special circumstances, they yield very readily to the hostile influences of civilization, and, though the first operations of the settler are favorable to the increase of many species, the great extension of rural and of mechanical industry is, in a variety of ways, destructive even to tribes not directly warred upon by man. [Footnote: Lyell, Antiquity of Man, p. 400, observes: "Of birds it is estimated that the number of those which die every year equals the aggregate number by which the species to which they respectively belong is, on the average, permanently represented." A remarkable instance of the influence of new circumstances upon birds was observed upon the establishment of a light-house on Cape Cod some years since. The morning after the lamps were lighted for the first time, more than a hundred dead birds of several different species, chiefly water-fowl, were found at the foot of the tower. They had been killed in the course of the night by flying against the thick glass or grating of the lantern. From an article by A. Esquiros, in the Revue des Deux Mondes for Sept. 1, 1864, entitled, La vie Anglaise, p. 110, it appears that such occurrences as that stated in the note have been not unfrequent on the British coast. Are the birds thus attracted by new lights, flocks in migration?