There are also several birds, which, when food begins to fail, hide themselves in the earth, or in caves, in a torpid state, during the winter. We are assured, at least, that before the approach of this season, the Strand-Swallows conceal themselves in the earth; the Wall-Swallows repair to the holes of trees and old buildings; and the House, or Common Swallows seek for ponds, where they fasten themselves in pairs, cling to roots or weeds, continue without motion, and apparently without life, till the return of spring, when they are re-animated, and return from that state of torpidity.
The infinitely wise Creator has given different instincts to birds; none of which is superfluous, or useless, but each is indispensably necessary to the preservation and well-being of the animal. The motion of birds not only requires strength and well-formed pliant limbs, but also instinct to direct their movements. They have each two feet; but their bodies do not rest perpendicularly on them, for they project both before and behind; and yet a chick will stand upright and run about almost as soon as it leaves the shell. Young Ducks, just hatched by a Hen, know their own element, and swim about in the water without example or instruction. Other birds know how to rise up from their nests into the air, balance themselves, pursue their course, make equal strokes with their wings in true time, stretch out their feet to equipoise their bodies, use their tails like an oar or rudder, to direct their flight, and make long journeys from their native country to unknown regions.
The migration of birds is truly astonishing! Very few spend the winter with us: the Yellow-Hammer, the Chaffinch, the Crow, the Raven, the Sparrow, the Wren, the Partridge, the Robin, and the Fieldfare, are the principal. Most of the others either retire to some invisible resort, or leave us entirely. Some kinds of birds, without taking any high flight, or setting off in troops, draw gradually towards the south, to seek those seeds and fruits which are most congenial to their taste; but they speedily return. Others, which are termed “birds of passage,” collect at certain seasons in large flocks, and fly off to other climates; they even cross the seas, and make excursions of a surprising length. The best known birds of this description are, the Quail, the Swallow, the Wild-Duck, the Plover, the Snipe, and the Crane, with some others, which subsist on worms. In spring, the Cranes pass from Africa into Europe, in order to enjoy a more temperate climate. They migrate in flocks like clouds; and sometimes, their strength being nearly exhausted, alight on ships, and are taken without any difficulty. Swallows act in a different way: while some continue in Europe, and seclude themselves from our view as already observed, others cross the seas. Wild-Ducks and Cranes also repair at the approach of winter to milder climates. They all assemble on a certain day, and take their flight together. They commonly arrange themselves in two lines, united in one point like an inverted ʌ, with a bird at the head, and others following in the lines: whose beaks always rest on the tails of those preceding. The leader holds only a temporary commission: and having relinquished his charge, rests himself, and is replaced by another. But all birds of passage do not take their departure in flocks: for there are some which travel alone; and others with their females and young. It has been computed that they may easily go 200 miles in six hours each day, supposing they can take rest at intervals, or during the night. According to this calculation, they may pass from our climates to the Equinoctial line in seven or eight days! This conjecture has been verified; for Swallows have been seen on the coast of Senegal on the 9th of October, which was eight or nine days after their leaving Europe.
These migrations are wonderful in every point of view! Doubtless the difference of heat and cold, and want of food, apprize them of the necessity of changing their abode. But what reason can be assigned for their departure at the appointed time, when the season is sufficiently mild, and food still in abundance, to invite their continuance among us? How do they know that other climates will afford them necessary food and warmth? By what operative power are they impelled to make this exit at the same period, as if preconcerted by mutual agreement? How can they, notwithstanding the darkness of the nights, the perplexity of the road, and the remoteness of the countries to which they are destined, still hold on in a direct course? Nature does not teach them all this art, industry, and penetration, which so much surprise us: if we separate nature from its great Author, it is then a word destitute of meaning.
“Nature is but a name for an effect,
Whose cause is God.”
It is He alone who gives wisdom to the fowls of the air.
God’s superintendence over birds is particularly noticed by our Saviour. “Behold the fowls of the air; for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them.” God extends his providential care to all his creatures, not only to those which are domesticated and receive their supplies from men, but also to the fowls of the air. By a natural instinct they know how to select that kind of food which is suitable for aliment, and where to procure it; but they are without any particular solicitude and forecast: nor have they need of these, because God takes care to provide for them. St. Luke mentions the Ravens, which are carniverous creatures. “Consider,” says he, “the ravens: for they neither sow nor reap; which neither have storehouse nor barn: and God feedeth them.” God asks Job, “Who provideth for the raven his food?” There are but three things which concern such creatures; how their craving appetites may be satiated, where they may repose, and by what means they may be protected from the incursions of their enemies: and for all these God has amply provided. He takes care of their food: “he giveth food to the young ravens which cry,” and are the most helpless of all creatures. Naturalists observe, that the Raven exposes her young ones as soon as they are hatched, leaves them to provide for themselves, and struggle with hunger as soon as they emerge into life; so they certainly would perish, if Providence did not interfere in their behalf. But God makes them his charge, and supplies their voracious cravings in due time, whether by the insect, the reptile, or the dew from heaven. He protects their rest, and renders their habitations places of refuge and safety. “The trees of the Lord are full of sap: the cedars of Lebanon which he hath planted; where the birds make their nests: as for the Stork, the fir-trees are her house.”
The meanest classes of sensitive beings are endued with the faculty of instinct: a sagacity which is neither derived from observation, nor awaits the finishing hand of experience; which without a tutor teaches them all necessary skill, and enables them, without a pattern, to perform every needful operation. And what is more remarkable, it never misleads them, either into erroneous principles, or pernicious practices: nor ever fails to aid them in the most nice and difficult of their undertakings.—The inhabitants of the hive subsist as a regular community.
——“As bees