laws. Thus the arrival and departure o f the Swallow, the Cuckoo, the Landrail, &c. are as strictly regulated
as the recurrence o f the seasons:
“ Yea, the Stork in the heavens knoweth her appointed times; and the Turtle and the Crane and the Swallow observe the time
of their coming."
Besides being tenanted by about one hundred and fifty stationary species, Great Britain has migrants and
occasional visitants from the four points of the compass. Thus in spring nearly fifty species visit us from the
so u th ; whilst in the autumn our milder and more equable climate attracts a still larger number from the
north, who instinctively know they will here find that food and shelter which the rigorous winters of more
northern regions deny to them. In addition to this true and characteristic migration, our islands are
occasionally resorted to by certain species which, from some unknown cause, make a movement from east to
w e s t; whilst the pseudo-migration from west to east is exemplified in the rarely occurring American forms
which from time to time have been recorded, and which, blown off from their native shore, find in the masses
o f seaweed, uprooted trees, and portions o f wreck constantly approaching our coasts through the agency of
the Gulf-stream, that means o f rest and recruitment which finally enables a few o f them to reach a welcome
though far distant haven. A remarkable degree o f capriciousness, which to me has always appeared
mysterious, occurs in the choice o f localities affected by certain of our migrants : thus the Pied Flycatcher
will not rest until it has reached the middle and northern counties o f England, while the Nightingale almost
restricts its visit to the southern, eastern, and central ones, never favouring Cornwall with its presence, and
but rarely going into Devonshire o r Wales, or further north than Yorkshire o r Durham. Again, some species,
exemplified in many of the Plovers aud Sandpipers, make our islands but a halting-place, pausing for rest
only on their way to unknown and probably far distant regions.
The mysterious law or laws which govern migration must always be regarded by the naturalist with the
utmost interest. Within our own islands hardly a month passes by without the movement o f some species
occurring to remind us o f the existence o f such a principle. In the early spring, before the Wheatear, th at
earliest o f our visitors from the sunny south, has arrived, the Fieldfare and Redwing which during the winter
have peopled our hedgerows and fields, the Geese, Ducks, and numerous wading-birds which have been
frequenting our broads and rivers, have, in obedience to nature’s prompting, commenced a movement northward,
en route for localities better suited, by their quietude and by the nature of the food found there, for
the propagation and rearing o f their progeny. Then, as the rays o f the life-inspiring sun strike upon our earth
with daily increasing strength, we begin to welcome in quick succession those little feathered arrivals which
make the spring and early summer seasons o f so much enjoyment and anticipation to all true lovers of
nature. March, besides the Wheatear, brings us the Chiffchaff and the Sand-Martin; April’s earliest days
herald in the Swallow, Wryneck, and Martin ; by the middle o f that month the Nightingale has made its
appearance, together with a host of other sylvan species; soon after, the Cuckoo and Landrail a rriv e; and
on the joyous First of May the latest o f all comers, the Swift, the Nightjar, and Flycatcher may be looked
for. A pause o f a few weeks follows; and, reproduction having been accomplished, then commences, as it
were, the ebb o f the great tide of migration. The Swift, which, as we have seen, was one o f the latest to
arrive, is the first to d ep art; then the Landrail makes good its retreat to the more southern country of
Africa; other kinds follow in succession, all hastening to make their escape before such changes o f climate
and natural conditions have set in as would prove fatal to their existence, either on account o f the lowering
of the temperature or the cessation o f suitable food. By the end of September the great mass have departed,
and only a scanty remnant are to be met with. With this same ebb, the autumnal months bring to our sight
again strings of grallatorial and natatorial birds, urged by similar causes from the northern regions back
towards the south in search o f that food and aquatic life which the icy hand of winter had already begun to
grudge them and their progeny in their summer location. To follow the sun appears to be the course of
true migration; but the promptings o f instinct which lead the Swallow and many other species to quit our
shores, after a brief sojourn, for Africa, or those which lead the Fieldfare and the Redwing to quit the
Norwegian ‘ ijelds ’ for our cultivated lands, must surely be connected in some way with, if they have not
for their sole object, the provision o f food and climate suitable to the species. The Rev. H. B. Tristram
remarks that “ those species which have the most extended northerly have also the most southerly range,
and that those which resort to the highest latitudes for nidification also pass further than others to the southward
in winter. Thus the migratory Fieldfare and Redwing, visiting regions north of the limits o f the Thrush
aud Blackbird, on their southern migrations likewise leave their more sedentary relatives behind. The
Brambling, which passes the Chaffinch in Norway, leaves it also in Europe, and crosses the Mediterranean
every winter to the Barbary states.”—Ibis, 1865, p. 77.
The regularity, however, which occurs in the arrival o f our summer visitants is not quite so strictly adhered
to in their departures. Having accomplished the purpose for which they came, these depart again at varying
periods, but mostly as soon as the renewal o f their primaries will admit o f their flying across the channel,
leaving their young to follow instinctively (when their muscular development has been sufficiently matured)
the same route by which their parents have preceded them. This apparent desertion o f the young birds at
a period when one would imagine the presence o f their parents as leaders would be absolutely essential,
seems to prevail amongst many o f our migratory species. That the old birds shoidd be able instinctively to
wing their way back to whence they came is not half so marvellous as that the newly fledged nestling, urged
by some mysterious power, should undertake a flight extending over hundreds o f miles and many variations
o f climate in search o f a temporary home it has never seen. This irresistible impulse, which prompts the
necessity of a migration somewhither, is hut too sadly seen in the restless actions and almost frantic efforts
c