his is not all. The ornithology of the future must be ready to give
an answer to the further question how these divergences of anatomy and
temperament originated. How came the chickadee by his endless fund of
happy spirits? Whence did the towhee derive his equanimity, and the
brown thrush his saturnine temper? The waxwing and the vireo have the
same vocal organs; why should the first do nothing but whisper, while
the second is so loud and voluble? Why is one bird belligerent and
another peaceable; one barbarous and another civilized; one grave and
another gay? Who can tell? We can make here and there a plausible
conjecture. We know that the behavior of the blue jay varies greatly in
different parts of the country, in consequence of the different
treatment which he receives. We judge that the chickadee, from the
peculiarity of his feeding habits, is more certain than most birds are
of finding a meal whenever he is hungry; and that, we are assured from
experience, goes a long way toward making a body contented. We think it
likely that the brown thrush is at some special disadvantage in this
respect, or has some peculiar enemies warring upon him; in which case it
is no more than we might expect that he should be a pessimist. And, with
all our ignorance, we are yet sure that everything has a cause, and we
would fain hold by the brave word of Emerson, "Undoubtedly we have no
questions to ask which are unanswerable."

FOOTNOTES:

[7] This does not harmonize exactly with a statement which Emerson makes
somewhere, to the effect that all the stoics were stoics indeed. But
Epictetus had never lived in Concord.

IN THE WHITE MOUNTAINS

Our music's in the hills.

EMERSON.

IN THE WHITE MOUNTAINS.

It was early in June when I set out for my third visit to the White
Mountains, and the ticket-seller and the baggage-master in turn assured
me that the Crawford House, which I named as my destination, was not yet
open. They spoke, too, in the tone which men use when they mention
something which, but for uncommon stupidity, you would have known
beforehand. The kindly sarcasm missed its mark, however. I was aware
that the hotel was not yet ready for the "general public." But I said to
myself that, for once at least, I was not to be included in that
unfashionably promiscuous company. The vulgar crowd must wait, of
course. For the present the mountain