those blessed regions where we should require neither microscopes nor telescopes to enable us to discover the wondrous works of God. There all his works shall be so unveiled to our eyes, that we shall be able to distinguish the destination, structure, and relations of each object. There, immortal songs of praise shall resound to the honour of the Creator of the universe. There, all distinction of great and small shall be entirely done away; for every thing shall appear great in our sight, and fill our souls with admiration and joy!

EIGHTH WEEK-MONDAY.

HYBERNATION. -MIGRATION OF BIRDS.

THE migration of birds, before winter deprives them of their natural food, or diminishes the temperature of the atmosphere below what their constitution is able to bear, is not only one of the familiar, but one of the most remarkable operations of this interesting class of the animal creation. No person of observation can reside long in a rural district, without being struck with the change which takes place in its feathered inhabitants about the commencement of this less genial season. While hardier, races of birds, unknown to us in spring and summer, begin to appear, we lose sight of many of those tenants of our hedges and grove, which cheered us with their music, or pleased our eye by the variety and brilliancy of their plumage. They had long since almost ceased to afford us agreeable notice of their presence, by the distinctive variety of their music; but we had, only a few days or weeks before, seen them flitting gaily across our path, or perched quietly or peeringly on some neighbouring bough; yet now, neither to the eye or ear, do they any longer give indications of their existence. What has become of these interesting attendants on our summer walks? The solicitude to which reflections on their fate, during the vicissitudes of

our rude winter climate, give rise, is beautifully and feelingly expressed by the Scottish poet:

'Ilk happing bird, wee, helpless thing,
Which, in the merry months of spring,
Delighted me to hear thee sing,

What comes o' thee?

Where wilt thou cow'r thy chittering wing,

And close thy e'e?'

Were we, indeed, for the first time, and without the correction of experience, to witness the arrival of winter, when the bountiful hand of nature seems suddenly to be withdrawn, it would appear to us impossible that the myriads, not only of the races of insects we have been considering, but of quadrupeds, birds and reptiles, which swarm on the surface of the earth in the more genial months of summer and autumn, should be able, during the privations of this season, to preserve their comforts, or even their very existence. There is something appalling in the idea, that such multitudes of creatures should be called into being, only to fall victims to an inevitable and cruel fate; and it would seem to reflect on the wisdom or goodness of Providence, were such anticipations to be realized. But it is not so; and the beneficent contrivances by which such a calamity is averted, tend, in no slight degree, to intimate the presence and operation of an intelligent Creator.

With regard to those animals which are actually exposed to the storms of winter, let it be observed, that this season of scarcity and privation is immediately preceded by a period of peculiar plenty, when the edible seeds and plants are in greatest abundance; and that these, although they cease to vege tate, do not, in many instances, cease to exist as articles of food. The seeds and debris of plants lie scattered about the ground in great profusion; and, though unnoticed by us, are easily discovered by the microscopic eye of many of the inferior animals. The grass, too, which forms at once the soft carpet and the favourite food of so many living creatures, although faded, is still spread over our hills and valleys, and

affords to the larger classes of graminivorous animals, a more scanty indeed, but yet a considerable supply of succulent food. The roots of once luxuriant plants and flowers, the fruit of the bramble, the hawthorn, and the eglantine, the acorn, the beech-mast, and even the decaying leaves of the forest, all contribute their varied nourishment to different tribes of animated beings.

But to this subject we shall afterwards have occasion more particularly to advert; and, with reference to the winged creation, we have at present to remark, that He without whose permission 'not even a sparrow falleth to the ground,' and who 'feedeth the ravens which have neither storehouse nor barn,' deals in another manner with those tribes, to which subsistence could not now be afforded in the place of their summer residence; and, by means of a secret impulse not less wonderful than beneficent, bears them beyond the reach of coming want, and the chilling breath of a wintry sky. The Creator is fertile in resources; and as he has furnished this class of his living creatures with wings to travel through the air, where there are neither rivers nor seas to arrest their progress, and where they can readily overtop even the obtruding mountains, He has bestowed on them that mysteri ous instinct which leads them to migrate to southern climes, where the food on which they subsist is still abundant, and the arrival of winter has only mitigated the intensity of the heat, and rendered it to them little else than a continuance of the blessings of summer.

A continental writer has attempted to define the impulse which induces birds to migrate; but he has been forced to do so, after minute attention, more by negatives than by any positive and very intelligible assertion of a principle. 'It is not want of nourishment,' says M. Brehm, for most of them commence their migration while there is still abundance in the country they are leaving. Atmospherical currents are not the cause, nor do the changes of season explain it, as the greatest number set off while the weather is yet fine; and others, as the larks and starlings, arrive while the season is

bad. Atmospherical influences can only hasten the migra tion in autumn, but must rather retard or derange it in spring. It is the presentiment of what is to happen, which determines birds to begin their journey. It is an instinct which urges them, and which initiates them into the meteoric changes that are preparing. They have a particular faculty of foreseeing the rigours of the coming season; an exquisite sensibility to the perception of atmospherical changes which are not yet arrived, but are approaching.'

The same intelligent and judicious writer states some facts relative to the manner of these migrations, which he conceives to be established; and, as they are curious in themselves, and condensed into few words, we shall make no apology for quoting them. Every bird has its native country, where it freely reproduces, and remains part of the year, travelling in the remainder. Most birds spend half the year at their home, and pass the other half in travelling. Some, particularly birds of prey, travel by day, but by far the greater part travel by night; and some perform their migrations indifferently, either by day or night. They seem to pass the whole of their migration without sleep; for they employ the day in seeking their food, stopping in the places where they are most likely to find it. They commonly keep very high in the air, and always at nearly the same distance from the earth, so that they rise very high over mountains, and fly lower along valleys. They require a wind that blows against them, as a contrary wind assists in raising them.'*

In some subsequent papers, we shall follow out this interesting subject, by entering into a few details; but we cannot conclude this preliminary sketch, without a single remark re

* Quoted from Library of Entertaining Knowledge, on Faculties of Birds, p. 286. There appears in these remarks rather too much disposition to generalize. The author of the article from which the quotation is extracted, observes, that the last statement must be subject to some very large exceptions. The same may be probably said of some of the rest; and particularly of the first which seems to aver that every bird travels through part of the year

specting the astonishing faculty on which the migratory habits of birds are founded.

It would be vain to look for a solution of the phenomena of migration in the reasoning powers of the birds themselves. They have obviously neither a faculty of reflection, nor a geographical nor meteorological knowledge, which could enable them either to plan or to execute so astonishing an enterprise; and we are compelled to rank this means of selfpreservation among the numerous habits and practices of the lower animals, which Brehm calls 'a presentiment,' 'an instinct,' an exquisite sensibility,' and which the immortal Newton justly and piously ascribed to nothing else than the wisdom and skill of a powerful and ever-living agent.'

6

EIGHTH WEEK-TUESDAY.

HYBERNATION.-MIGRATION OF BIRDS CONTINUED.

CURIOSITY has long directed its inquiries to ascertain the countries to which our various birds of passage migrate during the winter months; but it is mortifying to think how little definite information has been obtained on so interesting a question. That several of our native birds are capable of taking long and rapid flights, is generally known. The swallow and the hawk, for example, can continue on the wing, without rest, for many hours, and are believed to be capable of travelling at the amazing rate of 150 miles in the hour. Supposing, however, the average rate of the flight of birds to be only one-third of this velocity, it is obvious that they may, without difficulty, perform journeys to any extent necessary for carrying them to the warmest climates. From the British shore to the coast of France, the distance is comparatively so trifling, that, even taking the broadest part of the channel, it could, at the moderate average we have mentioned, be performed in little more than two hours; and thence again, stretching through the intervening countries of