as we find in Lowell, for instance, has hardly yet reached expression. Birds have already been discussed under sound, but it remains here to state that the habits of birds, their manner of flight, their nests, the trees they choose, their ways of protecting their young, were all topics on which much was known. Of minor poets, those who knew birds well, are Jago, Potter, and Bruce. Gray adds some perfect touches. Best of all for accurate description and real understanding are Thomson, Cowper, and Burns. The prominent place of the cuckoo has already been spoken of. The redbreast and the thrush with “speckly breast” rank not far behind in interest. The redbreast found early honor in Armstrong’s “Winter,” and then in Thomson’s, and is one of the pleasing elements in Cowper’s “Winter Walk.” On the whole, birds of the lakes and streams seem to be better known than birds of the tree and copse. One phase of the literary treatment of birds is a recognition of their rights as free, living beings. This feeling, not toward birds alone but toward all animals, is one of the marks of the new spirit. There is even in Lady Winchilsea’s “Revery” a slight hint of the conception that animals would not suffer if man had not proved himself a tyrant, and Gay carries out the same thought in one of his “Fables.” Thomson’s protests against killing animals for food are the first strong statements of the new feeling. Shenstone, in “Rural Elegance” and “The Dying Kid,” shows some sympathetic regard for animals. Jago and Potter and Langhorne protested vigorously against cruelty to birds. Beattie had the strongest possible dislike toward so-called English sports. The feeling of close fellowship and almost human love toward animals, so marked in Wordsworth and Coleridge, did not find expression in the transition poetry until Burns and Cowper gave it full statement.