A gentleman curious in birds, wrote me word that his servant had shot one last January, in that severe

name of Mus minutus, asserting at the same time (but erroneously) that the Mus messorius of Pennant, the Hampshire harvest-mouse, is only a small variety of his Mus sylvaticus. Pallas found his animal in birch woods, in several parts of Russia; but he had not observed it in Germany. It has since occurred in the latter country; and Dr. Gloger has well described its nest in a paper published in the Transactions of the German Academy. It was beautifully and elaborately constructed of the panicles and leaves of three stems of the common reed interwoven together, and forming a roundish ball suspended on the living plants at a height of about five inches from the ground. On the side opposite to the stems, rather below the middle, was a small aperture, which appeared to be closed during the absence of the parent, and was scarcely observable even after one of the young had made its escape through it. The inside, when examined with the little finger, was found to be soft and warm, smooth, and neatly rounded, but very confined. This nest contained but five young; but one less elaborately formed, previously examined by Dr. Gloger, was found to afford shelter to no less than nine. The panicles and leaves of the grass were very artificially woven together, the latter being first slit by the action of the little animal's teeth into more or less minute bands or strings. No other substance was used in the construction of the nest, which was altogether without cement, or any means of cohesion save the interweaving of its component parts: it consequently suffered considerable disturbance even from the most careful handling, losing in neatness of form as much as it gained in its increasing size.

The fullest account that has yet appeared of the habits of the harvest mouse in captivity has been furnished by the Rev. W. Bingley: his observations are so full of interest as to authorise their introduction here.

"About the middle of September, 1804," he says, "I had a female harvest mouse given to me. It was put into a dormouse cage immediately when caught, and a few days afterwards produced eight young ones. I entertained some hopes that the little animal would have nursed these and brought them up; but having been disturbed in her removal about four miles from the country, she began to destroy them, and I took them from her. The young ones at the time I received them, (not more than two or three days old), must have been at least equal in weight to the mother.

"After they were removed she became reconciled to her situation; and when there was no noise, would venture to come out of her hidingplace at the extremity of the cage, and climb about among the wires of the open part before me. In doing this, I remarked that her tail was prehensile, and that, to render her hold the more secure, she generally coiled the extremity of it round one of the wires: the toes of all the feet were particularly long and flexible, and she could grasp the wires very firmly with any of them. She frequently rested on her hind feet, somewhat in the manner of the jerboa, for the purpose of looking about her; and, in this attitude, could extend her body at such an angle as at first

weather, which he believed would puzzle me. I called to see it this summer, not knowing what to expect:

greatly surprised me. She was a beautiful little animal, and her various attitudes, in cleaning her face, head, and body with her paws, were peculiarly graceful and elegant. For a few days after I received this mouse, I neglected to give it any water; but when I afterwards put some into the cage, she lapped it with great eagerness. After lapping, she always raised herself on her hind feet, and cleaned her head with her paws. She continued even to the time of her death exceedingly shy and timid; and whenever I put into her cage any favourite food, such as grains of wheat or maize, she would eat them before me. On the least noise or motion, however, she immediately ran off, with the grains in her mouth, to her hiding place.

"One evening, as I was sitting at my writing desk and the animal was playing about in the open part of its cage, a large blue fly happened to buzz against the wires: the little creature, although at twice or thrice the distance of her own length from it, sprang along the wires with the greatest agility, and would certainly have seized it had the space between the wires been sufficiently wide to have admitted her teeth or paws to reach it. I was surprised at this occurrence, as I had been led to believe that the harvest mouse was merely a granivorous animal. I caught the fly, and made it buzz in my fingers against the wires. The mouse, though usually shy and timid, immediately came out of her hiding-place, and, running to the spot, seized and devoured it. From this time I fed her with insects whenever I could get them; and she always preferred them to every other kind of food that I offered her.

"When this mouse was first put into her cage, a piece of fine flannel was folded up into the dark part of it as a bed, and I put some grass and bran into the large open part. In the course of a few days all the grass was removed; and, on examining the cage, I found it very neatly arranged between the folds of the flannel and rendered more soft by being mixed with the nap of the flannel, which the animal had torn off in considerable quantity for the purpose. The chief part of this operation must have taken place in the night, for although the mouse was generally awake and active during the day time, yet I never once observed it employed in removing the grass.

"On opening its nest about the latter end of October, I remarked that there were among the grass and wool at the bottom about forty grains of maize. These appeared to have been arranged with some care and regularity, and every grain had the corcule, or growing part, eaten out, the lobes only being left. This seemed so much like an operation induced by the instinctive propensity that some quadrupeds are endowed with for storing up food for support during the winter months, that I soon afterwards put into the cage about a hundred additional grains of maize. These were all in a short time carried away; and on a second examination I found them stored up in the manner of the former. But though the animal was well supplied with other food, and particularly with bread, which it seemed very fond of; and although it continued

but, the moment I took it in hand, I pronounced it the male Garrulus Bohemicus, or German silk-tail, from the five peculiar crimson tags or points which it carries at the ends of five of the short remiges. It cannot, I suppose, with any propriety, be called an English bird: and yet I see, by Ray's Philosophical Letters, that great flocks of them, feeding on haws, appeared in this kingdom in the winter of 16856.

The mention of haws puts me in mind that there is a total failure of that wild fruit, so conducive to the support of many of the winged nation. For the same severe weather, late in the spring, which cut off all the produce of the more tender and curious trees, destroyed also that of the more hardy and common.

Some birds, haunting with the missel-thrushes, and feeding on the berries of the yew-tree, which answered to the description of the Merula torquata', or ring-ouzel, were lately seen in this neighbourhood. I employed some people to procure me a specimen, but without success. See Letter XX.

Query-Might not canary birds be naturalized to this climate, provided their eggs were put, in the spring, into the nest of some of their congeners, as goldfinches, greenfinches, &c.? Before winter perhaps they might be hardened and able to shift for themselves.

About ten years ago I used to spend some weeks yearly at Sunbury, which is one of those pleasant vil

perfectly active through the whole winter, on examining its nest a third time, about the end of November, I observed that the food in its repository was all consumed except about half a dozen grains."-E. T. B.

6 This statement is contained in a Letter to Ray from one of his frequent correspondents, Mr. Johnson of Brignal, in Yorkshire; who suspects" that the wars in those parts have frightened them thence, and brought them hither this winter, (which with us was above measure plentiful in haws,) for certainly they are not natives." The one described by Ray, was obtained in March, 1685-6. As more than one of these birds, killed in Yorkshire, are said by Lister to have been seen by him in 1680, it should seem that at that time, as of late years, the Bohemian chatterer was an occasional, although uncertain, winter visitant.-E. T. B.

7 [Turdus torquatus, LINN.]

lages lying on the Thames, near Hampton Court. In the autumn, I could not help being much amused with those myriads of the swallow kind which assemble in those parts. But what struck me most was, that, from the time they began to congregate, forsaking the chimneys and houses, they roosted every night in the osier-beds of the aits of that river. Now this resorting towards that element, at that season of the year, seems to give some countenance to the northern opinion (strange as it is) of their retiring under water. A Swedish naturalist is so much persuaded of that fact that he talks, in his Calendar of Flora, as familiarly of the swallow's going under water in the beginning of September, as he would of his poultry going to roost a little before sunset®.

An observing gentleman in London writes me word, that he saw a house-martin, on the twenty-third of last October, flying in and out of its nest in the Borough.

In the Calendar of Flora, Swedish and English, made in the year 1755, and published in 1761 by Stillingfleet, among the occurrences of the sowing month (which is defined as extending from the first blow of the meadow saffron to the departure of the swallow) the concluding entry by Linnæus is "Swallow goes under water:" an entry made with as little hesitation as would occur in the enunciation of the most ordinary and undoubted fact. On this statement, however, Stillingfleet notes thus: "Adanson, in the account of his voyage to Senegal, p. 121, says that in October, 1749, European swallows lodged in the vessel in which he went from Goree to Senegal: and that they are never seen there but at this time of the year, along with quails, wagtails, kites, and some other birds of passage, and do not build nests there. This testimony seems to take away all doubts about this long contested point."-E. T. B.

'On the 7th of October, 1835, a number of house martins congregated on the roofs of the houses opposite to Cumberland Gate, Hyde Park. They had been gathering for several days previous; were numerous in the streets; and flew so low, that the boys were trying to catch them in their hats. On the 8th and 9th there were none to be seen. On the 15th a pair were seen, hawking for flies, in Cumberland Crescent. The congregating of the emigrants having been observed, and the departure of the multitude being consequently regarded as certain, it became an object of interest to watch this pair; and they were found to have a nest of young at a house in Cumberland Place, fixed in the upper corner of a blank window. On a subsequent visit, I found them feeding their young at the opening of the nest, passing to and fro, in the most rapid manner.

And I myself, on the twenty-ninth of last October (as I was travelling through Oxford), saw four or five swallows hovering round and settling on the roof of the county hospital.

Now is it likely 10 that these poor little birds (which

It was wet, cold, and foggy, with only occasional gleams of sunshine: but in spite of the weather these birds continued to fulfil their parental functions with the most persevering assiduity and industry. Taking advantage of every propitious hour to prepare their young for their distant journey, and as if instinctively aware of the necessity of expediting their departure, they subsequently appeared to have brought them out earlier than usual, and seemed to be teaching them to fly. They were observed to pass under the young bird when it appeared to be sinking, and were seen to raise its head, assisting it thus in its progression through the air. I saw them on the 23rd of October; and on the 24th they had departed. On the 28th martins were observed at Maida Hill, Paddington: these had possibly been beaten back by the violent storm from the south which occurred on the night of the 25th.-G. D.

10 It is, however, quite certain that young swifts, the moment they leave the nest, have often occasion to make the great migration. See Mr. White's Observation, Letter LII. to Daines Barrington. The various species of Hirundines remain in their nests till they are more completely feathered than other birds, and when they come forth they are matured for flight. I suspect that the troublesome insect, called Hippobosca Hirundinis, is a resource in the scheme of providence, to force them to venture upon the wing from the perilous height at which their nest is placed, by making the abode insupportable.

Few subjects are more interesting or more difficult to unravel, than the instinct of birds. Instinct is explained by Dr. Johnson, to be desire or aversion acting in the mind without the intervention of reason; the power of determining the will of brutes. He should have added in some particular cases, for it is not true generally. The will of brutes on many, and indeed on most occasions, is influenced by memory of the past, and apprehension of the future, as much as that of a human being; and that which is called reason in mankind is, perhaps, rather an improved state of understanding, resulting from mutual communication of ideas through the gift of speech, than a distinct and separate quality. Instinct is, in fact, the immediate agency of the Almighty power on the mind of creatures not endued with speech, which supplies the place of reason, and determines their most important actions: and perhaps in nothing is the universal superintendence of the Almighty more wonderfully displayed, than in its immediate agency upon the minds of the most insignificant

creatures.

The difficulty attending this subject is, to distinguish imitation of the parents, from instinctive propensities. It is well known to those who teach young birds to pipe, or rear them to learn the notes of some better songster, that, unless they are removed from hearing the parents, at the