the nest near my window, gaping for their parent, who comes frequently
to them with food, and clings to the edge while they gobble it up; and I
understand, that after they begin to fly they are fed by their parents
on the wing. I have watched for this, but could not perceive it, they
are so quick in every movement. As soon as the first family are able to
provide for themselves they quit their home, and while they are
sporting about, and clustering and hovering round every building in the
neighbourhood, the mother repairs the nest for a second brood.
_27th._--The spring is now rapidly changing to summer, and the opening
buds and unfolding leaves have been succeeded by a profusion of young
branches, and flowers. It is, indeed, very different from the rich
luxuriant spring of your Brazilian climate, but on the other hand, we
have not here the perpetual rain, and the oppressive closeness of that
season. The freshness of the air, the fragrance of the flowers, and the
sweet song of the birds are all delightful; and every day I see some new
and pretty insects. Though these insects are not quite in such numbers
as, Humboldt says, appeared by turns, each at their different hours, on
the Amazon river, still one may say--
Ten thousand insects in the air abound,
Flitting on glancing wings that yield a summer sound.
Just as we were looking at an uncommon butterfly to-day, Mr. Maude paid
us a visit, and seeing how we were occupied, he told us that when
travelling in Switzerland last June, he witnessed a very curious
circumstance, in the Canton de Vaud; an emigration of butterflies. He
happened to perceive something flying past the windows, and on looking
out he discovered an immense flight of butterflies crossing the garden.
He immediately went out, and found that they belonged to the species
called, in French, La belle Dame; they were all going in the same
direction, exactly from South to North, turning neither to the right nor
left; people moving about the garden did not frighten them; nor were
they even tempted by the numerous flowers there to alight. Their flight
was low and steady, but extremely swift; and it continued in a column of
several feet broad for more than two hours. As Mr. M. afterwards learned
that these butterflies had been remarkably abundant near Turin, in April
and May, he supposes that they had emigrated from Italy; but, he says,
naturalists have been greatly puzzled to account for their having done
so in a body, because they do not belong to those species that live in
societies.
He mentioned another singular circumstance: when he was on Mount Etna,
he saw, to his great astonishment, an immense number of insects hovering
over the dry lava of one of the old craters; there was no appearance of
vegetation, or of any thing that could supply them with food; but there
they were in a thick mass, flitting about in the sulphurous vapour,
which still rose from the crevices. The insect was a species of bug, or
_cimex_.
Frederick took me this evening to a sunny sand-bank, to shew me a great
novelty, which he had discovered there; the nest of the _mason wasp_.
It is not common in England, and has never been found in this part of
the country before. The nest is a round cavity, from two to three inches
deep; which the insect bores through a hard sandy soil; and instead of
throwing away the sand, as it is dug out, the little mason, by means of
a glutinous fluid, forms it into oblong pellets, and arranges them round
the entrance of the hole, so as to form a sort of cylindrical tunnel;
which sometimes, Frederick says, is about two inches long. These little
pellets are so nicely attached to each other, with regular spaces at the
corners, that they have quite the appearance of filligree work. It is
said that the use of the tunnel is to prevent the incursions of
ichneumons, and other artful insects, who are always on the watch to
intrude their own young, and who are perhaps deterred by the artificial
look of this entrance. One egg only is placed in the nest; and along
with it are stored, as food for the future young, several fat grubs. But
these are always full grown, because, as they are just about to pass
into the pupa state, they require no food for themselves.
Frederick opened the nest; and we examined it without fear, because the
mason wasp having deposited its egg, and supplied it with food, does not
remain to guard it. We found twelve grubs closely packed; each of them
being coiled above the other in a succession of rings, and the earth so
pressed on them as to prevent their movements from injuring the egg. The
remainder of the hole was filled up with some of the pellets that I have
already mentioned.
_28th, Sunday._--This morning my uncle proceeded to explain the
Levitical dispensation. He began by reminding us of the gross
corruptions, which had again crept into the Patriarchal dispensation,
notwithstanding the awful warning of the flood.
“But,” said he, “even in those corruptions the main principle of that
dispensation was preserved; that principle which marked the fallen state
of man, and to which every hope of future pardon was necessarily
attached. Instead of rejecting that doctrine of the atonement and the
hope of the promised Deliverer, the apostates of that age made those
points the very basis of their heresy. Their creed was built upon the
necessity of expiatory sacrifices; and, though they impiously divided
and multiplied their hero-gods at pleasure, still each remotely
signified the predicted seed of the woman supposed to be corporeally
manifested in this, or in that illustrious human character. The
Almighty, however, had declared that there should not ‘any more be a
flood to destroy the earth.’ In his merciful councils other means were
adopted for counteracting the evil, and for reclaiming mankind from a
depraved polytheism, in which the true belief would be altogether lost;
and with it the only means of ultimate reconciliation. The Patriarchal
dispensation was no longer suited to this altered state of the world,
nor sufficient for this gracious purpose; it was, therefore, to be
superseded by a new and intermediate dispensation, which should strongly
inculcate the doctrine of the Divine Unity, and perpetuate and confirm
with unceasing light, from time to time, the true original doctrine of
redemption. Such was the object of the _Levitical_ dispensation.
“The dispersion of the people at Babel had spread the corruptions of
which they had been guilty, over the face of the earth; and it pleased
God to separate from them one family who were to be the depositaries of
that peculiar principle which was to give efficacy to all religious
duties. For this purpose Abraham was selected from amongst the idolaters
of Babylonia, to be the father of a nation to which the new dispensation
was to be committed. They were to preserve the true principles of
religion for the rest of the world; and from them that Messiah was to
proceed whom they never ceased to desire, though they so strangely
misconceived his real character, and debased the sublime object of his
mission.
“The Patriarchal religion had been originally conferred on all mankind;
its principle was universality: but that being now changed, and a
single people being chosen out of the corrupt mass, in order to preserve
the truth, we may say that the chief distinction between the two
dispensations was, that the first was _universal_, the second
_particular_.
“The law as delivered by Moses, and called the Levitical dispensation,
because its ordinances were confided to the tribe of Levi, was not sent
to do away the original religion, nor was it intended to supply new
motives, or new sanctions. The law did not reveal the doctrines of the
Divine Unity; or of redemption through a promised Deliverer; or of a
state of future reward and punishment--for they had been already
established; but to those great doctrines the law ‘was added, because of
transgressions[8].’ It was _added_, in part to preserve the knowledge of
the Divine Unity in the midst of surrounding superstitions; in part to
preserve the doctrine of redemption amidst the idolatrous Gentiles; and
also, by imposing on the Israelites numerous observances and
restrictions, to preserve them separately from the world, a peculiar
people; as Balaam said, ‘Lo, the people shall dwell alone, and shall not
be reckoned among the nations.’
“But as the time drew near when the sun of righteousness was to rise,
the characteristic of particularity began to be withdrawn from the
Levitical church. The light of the gospel was preceded by a faint
knowledge of the truth which began to spread into other parts of the
world. The Babylonish captivity left some traces of it in the East; the
emigration of numerous Jews into Egypt carried it there likewise; and
the translation of the Hebrew Scriptures into Greek opened the eyes of
many pagans, so that several proselytes to the worship of Jehovah were
received into the Levitical church.
“Such were the preparatory steps to the abolition of paganism, and to
the introduction of the last, and most important, of the three
dispensations; that which was to do away with all other codes and
rituals--which was to put an end to all emblematic sacrifices--and which
was to collect into one fold, under one shepherd, all the nations of the
earth.”
_29th._--This evening I was talking away at a great rate to
Caroline--probably a great deal of nonsense--and having frequently used
the expressions, I conceive, I imagine, my uncle at last asked me if I
could explain the distinction between those two words.
I considered for a little while, and then said, that though I had been
using them very negligently, yet I thought I could point out the
principal difference.--_Conception_ is the calling up an absent but
distinct idea of something we have already perceived or felt--a complete
picture in the mind of some former sensation. But by _imagination_ we
take a bit of one of these pictures and a bit of another--we select
different circumstances from a variety of things that we have seen--and
by combining them together according to some particular view, we form a
new creation, and obtain the idea of something that we have not seen.
“Very well, my little Bertha,” said my uncle smiling, “I like to see you
exert your mind: but I would alter one part of your definition--I would
not confine the imagination to objects of sight only; for though the
mind dwells with greater facility on those that have been supplied by
that sense, yet it is equally certain that our other perceptive
faculties contribute their share also. The least imaginative person must
recollect the many pleasing images which have been excited by the
fragrance of distant fields, and the melody of unseen birds; and if you
will accustom yourself to examine the process of your own imagination,
you will find that an ample proportion of the subjects which pass
through it are derived from all your senses.”
“But, uncle, do you think that I have such a metaphysical head as to be
able to discover what is going on in my imagination? A thought comes,
and though it is easy to perceive the immediate circumstance that
suggested it, I am sure my giddy mind could not trace it further back
than the first step.”
“Whatever be the character of your mind,” he replied, “and whether you
choose to observe them or not, those complex operations are habitually
going on there; imagination rapidly selects from the materials presented
to it by memory, and by its own creative power forms new trains of
thoughts to pursue. The fine arts furnish innumerable instances of this
process.--But imagination is not a simple effort of the mind:--tell me
then, Bertha, if you can, what other intellectual faculties are engaged
with it, besides conception, which you have rightly said, only exhibits
the simple objects of our former perceptions, and from which we are to
make a fresh selection?”
“I believe, uncle, there is first that power which enables us to
separate from our conceptions those circumstances which are not wanted
for our purpose--the name is----”
“_Abstraction._ It is one of the most important of our faculties, and is
not less necessary to our general conduct in life, than for the most
refined intellectual pursuits. It helps us to remove the glare which
often dazzles and deceives our moral perceptions; it reduces our
complicated ideas to their constituent parts; and it presents us with
the means of considering certain qualities of an object apart from the
rest; and, therefore, of classing them with others: in short, it is
equally subservient to the power of reasoning and to that of
imagination. But go on, my dear--what next?”
There was something so encouraging in my uncle’s manner of questioning
me, that instead of frightening, it helped me to think. “Perhaps it is
that which guides us in putting together the materials which we have
been selecting;--or rather of arranging and suiting them to each
other;--taste, I think.”
“Right, Bertha; _taste_ adapts and redisposes them in the best manner;
and the more or less successfully as the _judgment_ is more or less
consulted. Without taste and judgment, the imagination would jumble them
all together at random, and would produce nothing but confusion and
deformity. Paintings and poems may contain many beauties, and yet may
totally fail in giving satisfaction; simply from the parts being
ill-assorted--or, in other words, from a deficiency of judgment in their
combination.”
“But is there not another quality which is essential in a poet?--I mean,
uncle, the power of catching the resemblance of ideas;--that which
produces those beautiful allusions that form the ornament of poetry.”
“You mean _fancy_--the power of quickly perceiving those delicate links,
which connect the most remote objects; and which, however slight, are
sufficient for poetical analogies. The more sober analogies, which suit
the province of science, may be elicited by laborious reflection, or
plodding perseverance; but fancy flashes them across the mind of the
true poet, and, by a sort of inspiration, furnishes him with an
exuberance of materials. But here again, Bertha, he must have recourse
to taste and judgment, if he would make an agreeable impression on the
minds of others. The ornaments of poetry, you say, are the allusions;
but in order to please, the points of similitude must, on the one hand,
be so obvious as to excite the immediate sympathy of the reader; and
yet, on the other, they must be so disconnected as to display ingenuity
by their comparison or contrast, and to surprise with their novelty.
---- Hope and fear, alternate, sway’d his breast,
Like light and shade upon a waving field
Coursing each other, when the flying clouds
Now hide, and now reveal, the sun.
“I think the conditions I laid down are both completely satisfied in
these beautiful lines from one of Home’s tragedies. But if poetical
allusions were merely employed for ornament, they would cloy the taste
and encumber the sense--they must therefore help to illustrate and give
force to those ideas that would otherwise be obscure, or which would be
too rapidly passed over by the reader. For this reason they are
generally taken from material objects with which our senses are most
conversant, and are applied by the fancy to those parts of intellectual
or moral subjects which require illustration, and on which the mind is
invited to pause.”
Caroline concluded the conversation by repeating Warton’s lines on
Fancy.
Waving in thy snowy hand
An all-commanding magic wand,
Of power to bid fresh gardens grow
’Mid cheerless Lapland’s barren snow;
Whose rapid wings thy flight convey
Through air, and over earth and sea,
While the various landscape lies
Conspicuous to thy piercing eyes.
_30th._--It is curious, that it has never been ascertained what becomes
of swallows when they disappear in autumn. Some naturalists have
supposed that they retire to hollow trees, old buildings, or caves,
where they remain in a torpid state during the winter; while others
affirm that they lie at the bottom of lakes and ponds. This last, my
uncle says, is a most extravagant idea, for nothing can be more certain
than that they would decay there in a short time; besides it is well
known that they moult or change their feathers early in the year, and no
one can imagine that this can be accomplished while they are torpid and
under water.
Facts, however, have not been wanting, to support both these opinions;
numbers certainly have been found in old dry walls, and cliffs, and
several were taken out of the shaft of an abandoned lead mine in
Flintshire, clinging to the timbers, and apparently asleep. They were
startled by a little sand being thrown on them, but they did not attempt
to fly or change their place; this happened about Christmas.
For the watery system, Kalm, the traveller, is a decided advocate: my
uncle shewed me a part of his travels in America, in which there is a
good deal on this subject; but I must say it does not clear up my
doubts. From Spain, Italy, and France, Kalm admits that they remove to
warmer climates; but in England and Germany, he says they retire into
clefts and holes of rocks, and in cold countries immerse themselves in
the sea, or in lakes. He gives several instances of their having been
found in this state in Prussia; but even by his own account it does not
appear that they could have been to any depth in the water--for all
those which he mentions were caught with a net among the reeds and
rushes growing on the borders.
“Besides,” said my uncle, “as they are lighter than water, they could
not sink even if they tried to do so; and as the lungs of birds differ
very little in their structure from those of quadrupeds, it is quite
incredible that they could live for several months or for several
minutes under water. Even diving birds come up exhausted, and would be
drowned like any other animal, if retained under water beyond a certain
time. Swallows and martins indeed sprinkle and splash themselves as they
glide along the surface, but they never dip completely into the water
for a single moment. At the season when they disappear there is no want
of their insect food in the air; nor have any of those cold blasts come,
which at a later period would benumb them; what, then, could induce
them, particularly the young birds who have just begun to enjoy the use
of their wings, to take a dreary plunge into a pond? Cold and scarcity
may drive some animals to hibernate, like your little dormouse, Bertha,
but I am satisfied that the whole tribe of swallows fly off, like other
birds of passage, to distant countries.”
“To what countries?” I asked him.
“It is probable,” he replied, “that there is some general temperature
that suits them best, or that is most productive of those insects on
which they prey; and as the seasons change, that temperature can only be
obtained by approaching the equator, or perhaps by passing into a
corresponding latitude of the southern hemisphere. A circumstance
mentioned by our friend Colonel Travers, made a strong impression on
me:--when he was going up the Mediterranean, I think in the latter end
of April, a great number of swallows settled on the yards and rigging of
the ship; they began to alight there about sun-set, and before nine
o’clock some thousands had collected; but in such an exhausted state
that they immediately went to sleep, and allowed themselves to be
handled without making any attempt to escape. At daylight next morning
they rose, as if by a single impulse, and flew away to the northward;
and several prodigious flights of the same bird were observed, at a
great height in the air, pursuing the same course towards Europe.
“Poor creatures,” said Frederick, “they must have come all the way from
the north coast of Africa. Can you tell me, father, in what part of the
Mediterranean this happened, that I may measure on the map the distance
they had flown?”
“I do not recollect,” said my uncle; “but if I am right in my ideas of
their swiftness, the widest part of that sea would be the affair of a
few hours. It has been estimated that a swallow usually flies a mile in
a minute; and sixteen or seventeen hours daylight will give about a
thousand miles for a single day’s journey at that velocity. Now when you
recollect that here we see those birds continue on the wing the whole
day without the least appearance of being tired, we can only account for
the extraordinary fatigue of those which perched on the Colonel’s ship,
by supposing their flight to have continued for several days; and thus
three or four days’ exertion might have brought them from a country
bordering on the southern tropic.”
I reminded my uncle of the account we had lately read in Dr. Brewster’s
Journal of Science, about the rapid flight of the wild pigeons that
cross America in search of food.
“Yes,” said he, “and there is a curious fact recorded in that paper,
which satisfactorily demonstrates, that the sustained velocity with
which some birds remove from one district to another, in search of food,
is not confined to the instinctive energy which belongs to the time of
annual migration, but that it is their habitual and daily practice. The
circumstance to which I allude is this: pigeons have been killed in New
York, whose craws were still filled with fresh rice, which must have
been collected in Carolina; and, therefore, as the pigeon digests its
food very quickly, they could have been but a few hours performing a
journey of three hundred miles. But we need not go so far off for
examples of the ease and rapidity with which pigeons go to great
distances in quest of some favourite food; for it is well known that in
the vetch season in Norfolk, the Dutch pigeons come over in the morning,
and return to Holland in the evening.”
Mary shewed us a passage in the voyage of La Pérouse, which proves that
swallows do go a long way to the southward. “A swallow of the common
species, undoubtedly lately come from Europe, followed us for some time
without alighting on the vessel, but soon directed its flight towards
the African coast, where it was sure of finding the insects on which it
feeds. We were in 28° N. lat., and 22° W. long.” Adanson also asserts
that he witnessed the arrival on the coast of Senegal, on the 6th of
October, in the evening, of real European swallows; and he ascertained
that they are never seen there but in autumn and winter.
My aunt has often observed them collected in large companies on trees,
and on the roofs of houses, previous to their flight in September; and
the direction they take at that season is to the southward.
My uncle then told us, that his old and highly respected friend Dr.
Jenner, who, you know, lived just on the other side of the Severn, used
to remark, that if swallows really did creep into holes and crevices to
hibernate, they would surely appear in a languid state when they came
out again--in the same way that all those quadrupeds who pass the winter
in a state of torpor, are very much emaciated when they revive. The
hedgehog, for instance, at the approach of winter, retires to its nest
covered with fat, which is entirely absorbed when it awakens on the
return of spring; whereas when the swallows appear in April, they are
plump and strong upon the wing.
Mary added, that swallows have two broods during the summer, and that
she had somewhere read, that it was only the strong early brood that
took flight to warmer regions; but that the young birds hatched late in
the year, being incapable of distant migration, seek shelter in holes
and hollow trees, and wherever they can lurk in safety in the winter.
Mary afterwards shewed me a passage about swallows in Latrobe’s Journal,
a book which I have more than once mentioned to you. He writes from the
settlement of Groenkloof, to the north of Cape Town.