And

To the Nightingale and Robin-Red-brest.
"When I departed am, ring thou my knell,
Thou pittifull and pretty Philomel:

And when I'm laid out for a Corse; then be
Thou Sexton (Red-brest), for to cover me."

Pope, however, suggests that the immunity accorded to the Redbreast in his time was on the decrease

"The Robin-Redbreast till of late had rest,

And Children sacred held a Martin's Nest."

The popular tradition finds expression in Shakespeare's Cymbeline

"The Ruddock would

With charitable bill (O bill sore shaming

Those rich-left Heirs that let their Fathers lie
Without a Monument!) bring thee all this;

Yea, and furr'd Moss besides, when Flowers are none
To winter-ground thy Corse."

And in Webster's White Divel (1612) a song has it

"Call for the Robin-Redbreast and the Wren,

Since o'er shady Groves they hover,
And with Leaves and Flow'rs do cover
The friendless Bodies of unburied Men."

The familiarity of this bird is mentioned in Thomson's poem of Winter

"One alone,

The Redbreast sacred to the household Gods,

Wisely regardful of th' embroyling Sky

In joyless Fields and thorny Thickets leaves

His shiv'ring Mates, and pays to trusted Man
His annual Visit."

Park, it may be added, records that in some rural districts the popular belief was that it was unlucky to keep, as well as to kill, a redbreast; the latter idea being embedded in the proverb

"The Robin and the Wren

Are God Almighty's cock and hen."

SWALLOWS, MARTINS, WRENS, LADY-BUGS, SPARROWS, AND TITMOUSE. To kill a cricket, lady-bug, swallow, martin, robin-redbreast, or wren, says Grose, is held to be extremely unlucky; perhaps from the idea of the breach of hospitality involved in the destruction of birds and insects that take refuge in houses. The distich above quoted emphasises the popular feeling concerning the wren; and the superstition is that those who killed any of the specified birds or insects,

• Park's variation of this proverb is—

"Tom Tit and Jenny Wren

Are God Almighty's cock and hen."

or destroyed their nests, will infallibly, within the course of the year, break one of their bones or meet with some other dreadful misfortune. On the other hand, nest-building by martins or swallows in the eaves or in the chimneys of a house is deemed lucky.

The association of misfortune with the destruction of swallows may be regarded as a relic of paganism; for we read in Ælian that these birds were sacred to the Penates, or household gods of the ancients. Their preservation, therefore, became a matter of religious concern. They were honoured as the harbingers of spring; the Rhodians indeed being said to have had a solemn anniversary song by way of welcoming their advent. We need but advert to Anacreon's Ode to the Swallow.

"Swallows flying low, and touching the water often with their wings, presage rain," is one of Nature's Secrets as revealed by Willsford; while the chirping and immoderate liveliness of sparrows early in the morning he represents as foretelling rain or wind; and the titmouse, cold, "if crying pincher." And among Gaule's Vain Observations we nnd "the swallows falling down the chimney."

In Lloyd's Stratagems of Jerusalem (1602) emphasis is laid upon the circumstance of the swallow being a classic bird of omen: By swallows lighting upon Pirrhus' tents, and lighting upon the mast of Mar. Antonius' ship sayling after Cleopatra to Egipt, the soothsayers did prognosticate that Pirrhus should be slaine at Argos in Greece, and Mar. Antonius in Egipt." Swallows, we further read, followed King Cyrus going with his army from Persia to Scythia, as ravens followed Alexander the Great on his return from India and on his way to Babylon; but, even as the Magi told the Persians that Cyrus should die in Scythia, so the Chaldean astrologers told the Macedonians that their king should die in Babylon, "without any further warrant but by the above swallows and ravens."

Vallancey, writing of the augur's favourite bird, the wren, represents that the Druids regarded it as "the King of all birds;" and that the superstitious respect thus shown to it gave offence to our first Christian missionaries, in obedience to whose injunctions "he is still hunted and killed by the peasants on Christmas Day, and in the following (St Stephen's) day he is carried about hung by the leg in the centre of two hoops crossing each other at right angles; and a procession is made in every village, of men, women, and children, singing an Irish catch importing him to be the King of all birds." Vallancey then goes on to recite, in illustration of the popular exaltation of the wren, the name bestowed upon him in various European languages; in Greek, Tρóxiλos, Baσiλeus; in Latin, Regulus; in French, Roytelet, Berichot; in Welsh, Bren (king); in Teutonic, Koning-Vogel (king-bird); and, in Dutch, Konije, or little king.

This practice of hunting the wren in Ireland on St Stephen's Day had not fallen into desuetude in the opening years of the present century; and from Sonnini's Travels in Upper and Lower Egypt, of which an English translation appeared in 1800, we gather that it was

* Berchot in Cotgrave's Dictionary of Old French is rendered, "The little wrenne, our Ladies henne."

in vogue with our Gallic brethren in the neighbourhood of Marseilles. Sonnini relates that, while he was at Le Ciotat, he was informed of the particulars of a singular ceremony which took place annually towards the end of December; when

"A numerous body of men, armed with swords and pistols, set off in search of a very small bird which the ancients call Troglodytes * (Motacella Troglodytes, Lin; Anglice, the common wren). When they have found it-a thing not difficult, because they always take care to have one ready-it is suspended on the middle of a pole, which two men carry on their shoulders as if it were a heavy burthen. This whimsical procession parades round the town; the bird is weighed in a great pair of scales, and the company then sits down to table and makes merry. The name they give to the Troglodytes is not less curious than the kind of festival to which it gives occasion. They cali it at Le Ciotat, the pole-cat, or père de la bécasse (father of the wood-cock), on account of the resemblance of its plumage to that of the wood-cock, supposed by them to be engendered by the pole-cat, which is a great destroyer of birds, but which certainly produces none."

Pliny observes that the hostility of the eagle to the wren is based upon the sovereignty ascribed to the latter, quoniam Rex appellatur avium. The legend, popular among the peasantry both of Ireland and Germany, runs that when the birds determined on having a king, it was decided that the election should fall upon him who flew highest in the air. A competition of the feathered tribe accordingly took place, when the success of the eagle seemed to be assured. The wren, however, resolved to make up by stratagem for his deficiencies in size and strength, somehow contrived to hop unperceived upon the eagle's back at the instant of the competitors starting. The great and ambitious bird did not feel the wren's weight, but soared aloft until he had exhausted his rivals and was out of sight to most of the assembly. At length he began to descend, when the wren sprang from off his back and, with a vast effort of soul, reached a still further elevation than had yet been attained. This latter fact was noticed by some of the sharp-sighted fraternity below who, though they were puzzled to explain it, could not deny the fact that he had achieved the highest flight; whereupon the wren was proclaimed, with all due solemnity, the "king of all birds."

Pliny adds that the wren in Egypt discharges a singular office to the crocodile. By way of providing for its own wants, it invites the latter, while reposing with the languor of satiety on the shore, to yawn, when the bird addresses itself to the work of cleansing its mouth, proceeding next to the teeth, and descending even to the jaws, which the grateful titillation of the operation causes it to extend to the widest limits.

HARE, WOLF, OR SOW CROSSING ONE'S PATH.

Ample testimony to the prevalence of this superstition is to be deived from literature. Thus, Hall writes of the Superstitious Man in

* So called, it is supposed, from the cavernous structure of its nest.

his Characters of Vertues and Vices (1608): "If but a hare crosse him in the way, he returnes;" Melton, in his Astrologaster (1620), affirms that "it is very ill lucke to have a hare cross one in the highway;" and Burton, in the Anatomy of Melancholy (1621), observes: "There is a feare which is commonly caused by prodigies and dismale accidents, which much troubles many of us, as, if a hare crosse the way at our going forth, &c." Mention of this omen occurs inter alia in Machin's play of the Dumb Knight (1608), in a passage previously quoted; as it likewise does in Ellison's Trip to Benwell

"Nor did we meet, with nimble feet,

One little fearful Lepus ;
That certain sign, as some divine,

Of fortune bad to keep us."

Among Gaule's Vain Observations we have "A hare crossing the way," together with "The swine grunting;" and in Ramsey's Elminthologia: "If an hare do but cross their way, they suspect they shall be rob'd or come to some mischance forthwith;" the same reflection occurring in Mason's Anatomie of Sorcerie.

"If an hare cross the high-way," writes Sir Thomas Browne, "there are few above threescore years that are not perplexed thereat, which, notwithstanding, is but an augurial terror, according to that received expression, Inauspicatum dat iter oblatus lepus.' And the ground of the conceit was probably no greater than this, that a fearful animal passing by us portended unto us something to be feared; as, upon the like consideration, the meeting of a fox presaged some future impos ture. These good or bad signs sometimes succeeding, according to fears or desires, have left impressions and timorous expectations in credulous minds for ever."

Home's Dæmonologie (1650) adds that the crossing of a hare or like animal is held to be a sign of very ill luck, " insomuch as some in company with a woman great with childe have, upon the crossing of such creatures, cut or torne some of the clothes off that woman with childe, to prevent (as they imagined) the ill luck that might befall her."

The ancient Britons using the hare for purposes of divination, it was never killed for the table; and from this circumstance probably arose the vulgar superstition associated therewith. In Borlase's An tiquities of Cornwall we read of a remarkable mode of divination said to have been practised by Boadicea. After haranguing her soldiers to spirit them up against the Romans, she opened her bosom and let go a hare, which she had there concealed, in order that the augurs might thence proceed to divine. The affrighted animal, we learn, made such turnings and windings in her course as, conformably with the then existing rules of interpretation, prognosticated a happy success. The joyful multitude shouted loudly, and Boadicea, availing herself of the opportunity, led them against the enemy and gained the victory.

In A Helpe to Discourse (1633) we have the inquiry "Wherefore hath it anciently been accounted good lucke if a WOLFE crosse our way, but ill lucke if a hare crosse it?" to which the answer given is : Our ancestors in times past, as they were merry conceited, so wert

they witty; and thence it grew that they held it good lucke if a wolf crost the way and was gone without any more danger or trouble; but ill lucke, if a hare crost and escaped them, that they had not taken her."

Lupton quotes the authority of Pliny in support of the statement that men anciently fastened upon the town-gates the heads of wolves, with the design of averting witchery, sorcery, or enchantment; "which many hunters observe or do at this day, but to what use they know not ;" and Werenfels instructs us that, "When the superstitious person goes abroad, he is not so much afraid of the teeth as the unexpected sight of a wolf, lest he should deprive him of his speech."

According to Grose, if, on setting out on a business journey, a sow cross the road, you will probably meet with a disappointment, if not a bodily accident, before your return home. To avert this mischance, you must endeavour to prevent her crossing your path; failing which, you must ride round on fresh ground. If the sow is attended by her litter of pigs, the occurrence is typical of good fortune, and denotes a successful journey. The coming into view of swine in the course of travelling seems to have been accepted as an auspicious omen.*

From Congreve's comedy of Love for Love it appears that to meet a weasel is a bad omen; and we read in the Memoirs of Duncan Campbel of "people who have been put into such terrible apprehensions of death by the squeaking of a weasel as have been very near bringing on them the fate they dreaded."

Willsford supplies a long list of Nature's Secrets. Thus

"Beasts eating greedily, and more than they use to do, prenotes foul weather; and all small Cattel, that seeme to rejoyce with playing and sporting themselves, foreshews Rain.

OXEN and all kind of NEAT, if you do at any time observe them to hold up their heads, and snuffle in the air, or lick their hooves, or their bodies against the hair, expect then rainy weather.

ASSES or MULES, rubbing often their Ears, or braying much more than usually they are accustomed, presages Rain.

HOGS crying and running unquietly up and down, with Hay or Litter in their Mouths, foreshews a Storm to be near at hand.

MOLES plying their works, in undermining the Earth, foreshews Rain: but if they do forsake their Trenches and creep above ground in Summer time, it is a sign of hot weather; but when on a suddain they doe forsake the Valleys and low grounds, it foreshews a Flood neer at hand; but their coming into Meddows presages fair weather, and for certain no Floods.

The little sable Beast (called a FLEA) if much thirsting after blood, it argues Rain.

The lamentable Croaking of FROGS more than ordinary, does denote rainy weather.

* In Copley's Wits, Fits and Fancies we read: "A plaine country Vicar persuaded his parishioners in all their troubles and adversities to call upon God, and thus he said :-There is, dearlie beloved, a certaine familiar beast mongst you called a Hogge: see you not how toward a storme or tempest it crieth evermore, Ourgh, Ourgh? So must you likewise, in all your eminent roubles and dangers, say to yourselves, Lourghd, Lourghd, help me."