Great weight has been placed upon the use of land-bridges and the hereditary habit of crossing seas where these land-bridges once existed but have been submerged during the great geological changes in the earth's surface. Many have insisted that wherever migrants cross the sea they do so along submerged coast-lines or over submerged land-bridges, arguing that the gradual evolution which has made the advantageous adoption of a habit of migration possible was unable to eliminate the hereditary tendency to follow the exact route by which their ancestors passed from place to place. That there have been considerable alterations in coast-lines and in the general distribution of land and water since the time when birds began to be migratory is indeed probable, but unless crossing the sea means a distinct advantage it implies the retention of a habit which would not only be useless but might be a positive danger to the species.

In the Gulf of Mexico and the Caribbean Sea there is evidence of perhaps the most recent land-bridge in the chain of islands from Florida to Venezuela, collectively known as the West Indies. Although vast numbers of North American birds winter in South America only a few of the species which annually pass from one continent to the other make use of this comparatively easy passage. One might naturally conclude that the final severance of England from the Continent was in the neighbourhood of the Straits of Dover, yet this short passage is only used by a comparatively small number of our migrants.

Mr Dixon indeed argued that there is no greater barrier to migration than even a narrow arm of the sea [(26)]. He refers to many Continental species which are common breeders in France but are unknown as nesting species in the British Islands, and others which are found in England but not in Ireland. But this is surely but an incident of distribution; the narrow strait or even river may for a time mark the limit of expansion of a species, just as at the present time the westward and northward unseen barrier prevents the range of the nightingale from spreading to districts apparently well suited for its home, and until recently the turtle dove and great crested grebe were checked in their northward advance.

In the evolution of some routes land-bridges certainty appear to have played their part, but once those bridges have ceased to influence direction the shortening of the time occupied by the lengthening of the single oversea flight is only a question of generations when an advantage to a species is to be gained.

This subject will be further dealt with in connection with the actual passages performed by certain birds.

The study of migration, based on observations at our lighthouses and lightships, shows that even in the comparatively small area of the British Islands there are certain routes followed with regularity. The birds which pass along our western coasts of England and Wales do not as a rule follow the shores round Cardigan Bay or along the eastward tidal scoop of the Irish Sea towards the coasts of Lancashire; the main body passes from Pembroke to the Lleyn Peninsula, and thence to Anglesey and the Isle of Man, on its way to the southern Scottish shores.

A source of possible error in the method of deduction from these results must be taken into consideration. The observations at lightships and lighthouses are mostly made when untoward circumstances bring the birds within range of vision, and on dark and foggy nights cause them to strike the light in great numbers. What is their normal course when no great migration wave or "rush" is observed? Are the few passing stragglers noted all that go by this route in fair weather? The same uncertainty must be applied to the observation of passing birds in inland localities. The immense numbers which do pass is shown by the observation of large movements, when as occasionally happens some check to normal migration leads an army of birds to a dangerously low altitude, or when high winds hold up a portion of the host on our coasts; but even these multitudes must be small compared with the millions of birds which annually pass from zone to zone unseen. The few or many birds we meet with, either on the coast or inland, resting on passage, may represent a lost or wandering party of stragglers or weaklings from a vast army which has passed over; they may or may not be on the route or course normally followed by the majority. The cartography of bird migration is a study in itself.

Mr Abel Chapman, describing his experiences in the Mediterranean, says—"For forty hours we were passing across (or beneath) the lines of an army of migrants—say 500 miles in width; yet not a sign did we see, save only the wreckage—the feeble that fell out by the way." On April 10th a sudden bitter northerly gale sprang up, and two hours later the steamer was the goal of hundreds of birds, no longer able to face the adverse wind. These were blue-headed wagtails, swallows, martins, pipits, wheatears, nightjars, and lesser kestrels. He thinks that the strong ones may have passed on but all the others perished [(12)].