in the eaves, and especially on hearing him chatter, they shrewdly suspect him to be a sparrow, though it does not by any means follow that their suspicions are always verified, as our friend not unfrequently turns out altogether another animal-further the deponent sayeth not; and though, when sitting with her white breast so lovely, out of the "auld clay-bigging," in the window-corner, he cannot mistake Mistress Swallow, yet when flitting in fly-search over the lake, and ever and anon dipping her wing-tips in the lucid coolness, 'tis an equal chance that he misnames her Miss Martin.

We could give a hundred-a thousand-ten thousand instances of the most astonishing ignorance shewn even by naturalists of considerable reputation-book and cabinet naturalists-with regard to facts falling under the most obvious, and, as one might think, the most universal observation of men, whether naturalists or not, who have seen the prudence and propriety of walking with their eyes open. But Professor Rennie quotes, and remarks on one in itself quite sufficient for our purpose, from the "highly lauded article" Ornithology, in Rees's Cyclopædia.-"Birds of the same species," says the author, "collect all the same materials, arrange them in the same manner, and make choice of similar situations for fixing the places of their temporary abodes. Wherever they dispose them, they always take care to be accommodated with a shelter; and if a natural one does not offer itself, they very ingeniously make a covering of a double row of leaves, down the slope of which the rain trickles, without entering into the little opening of the nest that lies concealed below." What precious nonsense! What a pack of confusion! Does the Cyclopædist, or rather the Cyclops, for he could have "had but one eye, and that was no piercer," here speak of all birds, or but of some particular species?

In either case alike is he a dolt. If of all birds, then he forgets, when speaking of the care they always take to be accommodated with shelter, the numerous families which lay their eggs on the bare ground, leaving them exposed the greater part

of the day on the sands of the desert, the sea-beach, or isolated rocks. Accommodate them with shelter, and in a couple of days the shore will be stinking-nor will a single sea-fowl -all addled in the yellow-ever chip the shell. Of what" little opening of the nest" does the perverse and purblind old Monops prate? The wren's? or the eagle's? But the wren (Miss Kitty) most frequently builds her domicile out of the flutter of leaves; on old mossy stumps, on house-walls, or the living rock; and when in hedges, she would laugh at the idea of this dotard providing the little opening of her nest that lies concealed below, with a double row of leaves; for hang the globe in the sunshine or the storm, and St Catherine will sit within, unscared and unscathed, counting her beads-perhaps a score-counting them with her fine-feeling breast that broods in bliss over the priceless pearls.

As for the Eagle, the little opening of his nest doth verily not lie concealed below a covering of a double row of leaves; but, eighteen feet in circumference, (we have measured one,) it lies unconcealed, except by its height from your ogles, mayhap a mile or a league, on a cliff-platform, occasionally no doubt hidden in clouds; and men, who speak what is now called the English tongue, call it an Eyrie.

If the old gentleman be not yet quite dead-and if he be, then we appeal to the most scientific of his surviving descendants-he is hereby humbly requested to have the goodness to inform us of the name of this ingenious bird; and to tell us, in a postscript, if ever, in all his born days, he saw a bird's nest of any kind whatever, on cliff or castle, ground or grove, in bush, tree, hedge, or old man's beard.

But what constant caution is perpetually necessary during the naturalist's perusal even of the very best books! From the very best we can only obtain knowledge at second hand, and this, like a story circulated among village gossips, is more apt to gain in falsehood than in truth, as it passes from one to another; but in field study, we go at once to the fountain-head, and obtain our facts pure and unalloyed by the theories and opinions of previous observers.

Hence it is that the utility of books becomes obvious. You witness with your own eyes some puzzling, perplexing, strange, and unaccountable -fact; twenty different statements of it have been given by twenty different ornithologists; you consult them all, and getting a hint from one, and a hint from another, here a glimmer of light to be followed, and there a gloom of darkness to be avoided-why, who knows but that in the end you do yourself solve the mystery, and absolutely become not only happy but illustrious? We cannot deny ourselves and friends the pleasure of perusing, in proof of this, the following passage, which exhibits a characteristic specimen of Professor Rennie's happy style of treating whatever subject comes within the range either of his reading or his observation.

"You pay a visit, for example, to the nest of a dabchick or grebe, (Podiceps,) which you had discovered some days before among reeds at the edge of a pond, and are surprised to find that the eggs have disappeared; but much more so on taking up some of the rude materials of the nest, to see the eggs snugly concealed beneath. The question immediately arises, Did the mother bird thus cover the eggs herself, and if so, for what purpose was it done? If you be not too impatient, (a state of mind exceedingly adverse to accuracy and originality,) you will endeavour to ascertain whether the covering of the eggs was peculiar to this individual, or common to the species, by repeated observation, as frequently as opportunity offers; or, if patience fail you for this, such books as you have access to may be consulted. Look into Linnæus, and all you find is, that this bird builds a floating nest of grass and reeds.' Latham says, the nest is made of water-plants among the reeds, and close to the surface of the water, floating independent.' Willughby, Ray, and Brisson, say not a word about the nest. Fleming says, the nest is in marshes of aquatic plants, and made so as to float.' They breed,' says Goldsmith, among reeds and flags, in a floating nest, kept steady by the weeds and margin.' They construct their nest,' says Griffith, evidently copying Temminck, with rushes, &c., interlaced, which they attach to the stems of reeds, resting it on their broken tops, or suffering it to float.' 'Nest large,' according to Jennings, made of aquatic plants not attached to any thing, but floats among

the reeds and flags penetrated by water.' Belon, who is followed by Gesner, Aldrovand, Jonston, and M. Drapiez, says, 'it nestles near the ground upon some turfy clump in a marsh, difficult of access.' 'On our large pools,' says Buf. fon, they build with reeds and rushes interwoven, and the nest is half dipped in the water, though not entirely afloat,

6

as Linnæus asserts, but shut and attached to the reeds.' Wood subsequently adds, in a note, they construct a floatThey build their ing nest of reeds.' nests,' says Hill, floating and loose among the flags'; and being altogether unconnected with the reeds among which it floats, it sometimes happens that it is blown from among them into the open

lake. In this situation the owner, like a skilful pilot, it is said, steers the nest into a safe harbour, by passing her feet through it.'

"In all these various notices of the nest in question, by the well-known naturalists thus consulted, there occurs no mention of any covering of the eggs, though the enquiry has brought under notice some other curious particulars, which, no doubt, a young and ardent observer will be anxious to verify on the nest itself, from which his book-research originated. Some of the authors, it has been seen, assert that the nest floats on water, nay, that it is purposely built to float by the mother bird; while others make no mention of its floating, and some expressly deny it. In a supposed case like this, it may, perhaps, be deemed premature for me to decide; but the nests which have fallen under my observation, agree with those originally described by Belon, in being built on raised clumps in marshes, or at least so supported by water plants as not to be intended to float. That in consequence of floods these nests may, by accident, have been found floating, it would be wrong to deny, though there can be little doubt that Linnæus, who was much too credulous of wonders, magnified a chance occurrence into a general rule. The story of the mother bird navigating her nest when it has been carried away by a flood, is altogether incredible; for the nest is not only constructed of a bedding of reeds, rushes, and other water plants, more than a foot in thickness, but the feet of the bird are so broad and clumsy, that they could not be thrust through it without entirely destroying its texture.

"Pennant, however, seems to believe this nonsense, for he adds to the account In these circumstances the halcyon's nest, its floating house, Auctivaga domus,

as Statius expresses it, may in some measure be vindicated.' The same author also is more particular about the floating of the nest, which he says is built near banks in the water, but without any fastening, so that it rises and falls as that does. To make its nest, it collects an amazing quantity of grass, water-plants,' &c.; and he adds, it should seem wonderful how they are hatched, as the water rises through the nest and keeps them wet; but the natural warmth of the bird bringing on a fermentation in the vegetables, which are full a foot thick, makes a hot-bed fit for the purpose.' If our young student, upon reading this very questionable doctrine, turn to this Dictionary, page 127, he will learn that Colone) Montagu uniformly found the nests cold, and that, taking into account the chemical principles of fermentation, it was impossible they could be warm.

"But Pennant also mentions a circumstance of much more interest in reference to the original enquiry, when he says that this bird lays five or six white eggs, and always covers them when it quits the nest,'— the very point to ascertain which the research was begun. With this authority, supported as it is by Montagu, most students might rest satisfied, but the ardent naturalist never arrives at any conclusion like this, without bringing all the facts within his knowledge to bear upon it, in order to elucidate connecting causes and consequences; for the fact being ascertained of the mother bird covering her eggs, it becomes interesting to enquire why she does this.

"It is admitted by all the naturalists already quoted, that the nest in question is built on moist ground, if not actually touching the water, and that part at least of the materials consist of moist waterplants. Now, it is indispensable to hatching, that the eggs be kept at a high temperature, and not be suffered for a moment to cool. The natural heat of the bird itself is sufficient for this purpose, without the heat of fermentation, erroneously supposed by Pennant; but if she quits them for a moment to go in pursuit of food, or to withdraw the attention of an intruding water-spaniel, or a prying naturalist, their near vicinity to moist plants or to water, would certainly prove fatal to the embryo chicks. In order then to prevent her brood from being destroyed by cold, the careful bird covers the eggs with a quantity of dry hay, to keep

them warm till her return.

"By keeping this interesting fact in his mind, our young naturalist may subsequently find that other birds employ

the same, or similar devices. The carrioncrow, (Corvus corone,) for example, who lines her nest with wool and rabbits' fur, always covers her eggs with a quantity of this before leaving her nest, no doubt, for the same reason that the dabchick employs hay. Again, several birds of very different habits, such as the wood-wren, (Sylvia sibilatrix,) and the hay-bird, (Sylvia trochilus,) construct a permanent arch of moss and dried grass over their nests. leaving a narrow entrance in the side. Having recently had occasion to investigate the structure of various nests with some minuteness, I have been led to adopt the opinion, that the arched coping, or dome, so remarkable in several small birds for ingenious and beautiful workmanship, is designed to preserve their animal heat from being dissipated during the process of incubation; an opinion which appears to be corroborated by the fact of our native birds that thus cover in their nests at the top, being all very small.

"Among these, besides the wood-wren and the hay-bird, are the common wren, the chiff-chaff, (Sylvia hipolais,) the goldcrested wren, the bottle-tit, (Purus caudatus, RAY,) and the dipper, (Cinclus aquaticus, BECHSTEIN.) There are other birds, no doubt, little larger than these, such as the blackcap and the babillard, (Curruca garrula, BRISSON,) which do not build domed nests; but it is worthy of remark, that the latter usually lay much fewer eggs; the babillard seldom more than four, and the blackcap four or five; while the gold-crested wren lays from seven to ten, the bottle-tit from nine to twelve, and the common wren from eight to (some say) fourteen, and even twenty. It will follow of course, that in order to hatch so large a number, these little birds require all their animal heat to be concentrated and preserved from being dissipated. The dipper, indeed, lays but five or six eggs, and weighs from six to eight times more than any of our other dome builders; but it is to be recollected, that, from its being a water bird, and building near water, it may have more occasion to

use

'all appliances' to concentrate its heat. In tropical countries, where the heat is great, such domed nests are very common, and are probably intended to protect the mother birds, while hatching, from the intense heat of a perpendicular sun; though most naturalists think they are designed to avert the intrusion of snakes,-forgetting that snakes would more naturally run their heads into a nest with a small side entrance, than if it were open above. A circumstance which fell under my observation, corroborative of

this remark, I have recorded under the article Hay Bird. Other birds, in warm countries, leave their eggs during the day exposed to the heat of the sun, and only sit upon them during the night, or in eloudy weather, when the temperature of the air is not sufficiently high,-a fact which has given origin to the error, that the ostrich (Struthio camelus,) lays her eggs in the sand and abandons them to chance."

What, then, in the opinion of this acute observer and enquirer, is the use of what in Natural History is called a system? A methodical classification is useful in as far only as it may serve as a framework or a cabinet, into the partitions of which many little facts may be stored and dove-tailed, that would otherwise be scattered through the memory at random, at the great hazard of being lost. The advantage of a system of this kind, then, consists in its preserving such collections of facts, as a cabinet preserves a collection of specimens; and, provided the several facts be not too far separated from their usual associations, it matters little what other qualities the systems possess. Simplicity, indeed, must always be valuable, and a simple system may be likened to a plain unornamented cabinet, where the specimens hold a prominent place, and the cabinet itself is almost overlooked; while a complex system may, in the same way, be likened to a cabinet bedizened with grotesque carving and fretwork, the compartments of which are "curiously cut," and fantastically arranged, consisting indeed chiefly of empty framework, without a useful fact, or an interesting specimen on which the mind can rest; and afterwards Mr Rennie says, with equal truth and boldness, of these same systemmongers, that the alphabet of their system is all they study, yet they scruple not to call themselves naturalists, and the alphabet of their system, Natural History, though they might, with equal propriety, call the twenty-four letters in a hornbook the History of England, and rank the village schoolmaster who teaches it with Hume or Lingard.

That

some minds may be so constituted as to take pleasure in such nicknack study, is proved by the analo

gous pursuits of collectors of old coins and medals, not for their utility, but solely on account of their rarity, or to perfect a series; yet it would be as preposterous to rank such mere collectors with a man like Niebuhr, who investigated medallion inscriptions, in order to elucidate the history of Rome, as it would be to rank a mere systematist with Aristotle, Ray, or John Hunter.

A loud outcry will doubtless be raised against Professor Rennie on account of these opinions, by the self-appointed cabinet-ministers of nature, who are assuredly neither her secretaries nor her interpreters. He need not care for the abuse of such persons-he writes for those who aim at philosophical and extended views of nature. With all his admiration of the enthusiasm, devotion, and even genius of Linnæus, he cannot consider that extraordinary man a philosophic naturalist. Linnæus thought that the superiority of a naturalist depended upon his knowing the greatest number of species, and that the study of Natural History consisted in the collection, arrangement, and exhibition of the various productions of the earth. Unquestionably, by storing the memory with specific names and technical distinctions, "a good gossiping naturalist" might be made; but good gossiping naturalists are of all old women the most wearifu' and superfluous, and the breed should be subjected to all possible discouragements. A study, again, narrowed down as Linnæus narrowed it, and without reference to causes, effects, or the wise contrivances of the Creator, would never lead to the Natural History which Lord Bacon declares to be the basis of all science, and "fundamental to the erecting and building of a true philosophy." Nor is Professor Rennie singular in his just severities on Linnæus and his followers-for he backs them with the opinions of Dr Aikin, Professor Lindley, Mr White of Selborne, Mr Vigors, Mr MacLeay, Dr Fleming, and Dr Heineken; and sums up all by asserting the truth to be, that the Linnæan system mainly contributed to extinguish the genuine study of nature, and rendered it unpopular for many years, since every writer surrendered himself uncon

ditionally to its shackles, and, of course, repelled every student imbued with a particle of philosophy or of taste, or alive to the glorious beauties of the Creation.

What, in good truth, can be more puerile than to limit, as Linnæus did, his descriptions of specific character to twelve words-or than his division of one of his works into twelve parts, because there are twelve months in the year-and into three hundred and sixty-five paragraphs, to correspond to the number of days in the year! Thus, all that Linnæus tells us of the Bank Swallow (Hirundo riparia-RAY,) is contained in the following twelve words:" H. riparia, cinerea, gula abdomineque albis-Habitat in Europa collibus arenosis abruptis, foramine serpentino." This is all we are taught to believe" that the industry of man has been able to discover concerning it!" Pennant and Latham are nearly as brief and just as meagre, and Cuvier himself does not improve on it, "by gravely adding this absurdity:" -"Elle pond dans des trous le long des eaux. Il parait constant qu'elle s'engourdit pendant l'hiver, et même qu'elle passe cette saison au fond de l'eau des marais!" Compare this useless stuff with all the interesting facts "that the industry of man" has really accumulated concerning the same bird, and you will acknowledge that Linnæus, wonderful being as he was, may, without offence to any rational mind, be safely pronounced an ignoramus. The late Dr Heineken, speaking of Gmelin, a disciple of the Linnæan school, characterises him as having "an instinctive propensity towards the erroneous;" and of that gifted person's "thirteenth edition of Linnæus, as it is called," quoth the Doctor, “I have had the good fortune never to be burdened with it--but in an evil hour, a kind friend bestowed on me the seven ponderous tomes of that kindred spirit, Turton." Temminck calls Gmelin's edition of Linnæus "the most undigested book in existence." Of Temminck's "Manuel d'Ornithologie," Rennie of course speaks highly, which, though essentially Linnæan, is much more circumstantial and accurate than is usual with the disciples of that school. It proves, however, that Temminck is much better acquainted

with collections of stuffed specimens than with living birds, except such aquatic ones as frequent the shores of Holland, and in that point of view, it contrasts strongly with the Dictionary of Montagu-especially now that that book has been so greatly enriched from many sources by its editor. On turning from Montagu to Temminck, we indeed are made to feel the truth of the observation, that a lexicon or explanatory catalogue is of unquestionable and indispensable use, for the purpose of identifying the species which may come under observation, or chance to be connected with interesting discussion and detail; but that nobody beyond the barriers of Linnæanism could ever dream of designating any of these, useful though they be, a natural history, any more than of calling a book like Blair's Chronology the History of the World.

Mr Rennie concludes his sixty page preface to Montagu with three lists containing almost all the names of the writers of any note on ornithology-rudimental, literary, and philosophic naturalists. Under the first he includes all works consisting of descriptive catalogues, chiefly of museum specimens, arranged systematically; including either whole classes, or particular groups of animals; the latter termed Monographs, and only useful to aid the student in identifying specimens by form, colour, and structure, commonly omitting historical and philosophical details, and rarely like the beautiful account of the British swallows, which White of Selborne called by the now abused title of Monograph

such works, particularly the Monograph, often dealing in critical disquisitions about names, divisions, and the particular place a species, genus, or group, ought to occupy in the system adopted, exhibiting, in many instances, passages of worthless trifling, undeserving of perusal. The second comprehends all works consisting of notices and details, sometimes, though less frequently, derived from the observation of living Nature than from closet reading, but often highly interesting and valuable, though very commonly sprinkled with inaccuracies. The third contains works