THE SELECTOR; AND LITERARY NOTICES OF NEW WORKS.

THE ARCHITECTURE OF BIRDS.

This is another volume of the delightful Zoological series of the Library of Entertaining Knowledge. We have already a volume and a half of Quadrupeds from the Menageries, a volume of the Transformations of Insects, and another of their Architectural Labours. The present, in well-chosen continuity of a novel plan of illustrating the Animal economy, is devoted to “an examination of Birds in the exercise of their mechanical arts of constructing Nests.” “This work,” observes the ingenious Editor, “is the business of their lives—the duty which calls forth that wonderful ingenuity, which no experience can teach, and which no human skill can rival.” The few introductory pages include a rapid sketch of the methods of classifying Birds adopted by some of the most distinguished naturalists, in which their characteristics are stripped of the jargon of technicality and hard words: thus, “Diurnal” birds are explained as “preying in the day-time;” “Piscivorous, feeding upon fish;” “Passeres, or Sparrows;” “Columbæ, or Pigeons,” &c. An outline of Mr. Vigors’s Quinary System, is also given, and the reader referred to proper sources for illustrations. The Editor then, leaving the beaten path of his predecessors, rambles through “fields and forests, unfettered by system, but alive to whatever he meets with likely to interest for its curiosity or its novelty.” The birds are classed according to their peculiar labours: thus, there are Mining Birds, Ground Builders, Mason and Carpenter Birds, Platform Builders, Basket-making Birds, Weaver Birds, Tailor Birds, Felt-making Birds, Cementers, Dome-builders, and Parasite Birds. Each division is so abundantly attractive to the observer of Nature in field or folio, that we scarcely know how to decide on an extract; and the reader will readily admit this dilemma, if he but recollects the early enthusiasm, wonder, and delight, with which he must have regarded a Bird’s Nest, unless he has been pent up all his life in the brick and mortar and chimney groves of a metropolis. Even then, the ingenuity of rooks may have occurred to him as not a whit less wonderful than the proud glories of art with which he has been environed. It is, however, time to determine, and we, accordingly, choose the following:—

The Osprey.

Herons and Heronries.

At the close of the volume are a few well-digested observations, which will leave the reader in a delightful train of reflection, impress him with the value of the preceding pages, and enable him to close the volume with gratitude to its author:—

“Although, in the preceding pages, we have considered birds as miners, as ground-builders, as masons, as carpenters, as platform-builders, as basket-makers, as weavers, as tailors, as felt-makers, as cementers, and as dome-builders, we have not dwelt at much length upon any fancied analogies between their arts and those of the human race. The great distinction between man and the inferior animals is, that the one learns almost every art progressively, by his own experience operating with the accumulated knowledge of past generations, whilst the others work by a fixed rule, improving very little, if any, during the course of their own lives, and rarely deviating to-day from the plans pursued by the same species a thousand years ago. It is true that the swallow, which doubtless once built its nest in hollow trees, has now accommodated itself to the progress of human society by choosing chimneys for nestling; and it is also to be noticed, that in the selection of materials a great many birds, as we have already shown, accommodate themselves to their individual opportunities of procuring substances differing in some degree from those used in other situations by the same species. These adaptations only show that the instinct which guides them to the construction of the nests best fitted to their habits is not a blind one; that it is very nearly allied to the reasoning faculty, if it is not identified with it. But that the rule by which birds conduct their architectural labours is exceedingly limited must be evident, from the consideration that no species whatever is in a state of progression from a rude to a polished style of construction. There is nearly as much difference between the comparative beauty of the nests of a wood-pigeon and a bottle-tit, as between the hut of a North American savage and a Grecian temple. But although the savage, in the course of ages, may attain as much civilization as would lead him to the construction of a new Parthenon, the wood-pigeon will continue only to make a platform of sticks to the end of time. It is evident, from a contemplation of all nature, that the faculties of quadrupeds, birds, insects, and all the inferior animals, are stationary: those of man only are progressive. It is this distinction which enables him, agreeably to the will of his Creator, to ‘have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth.’—But within their limited range the inferior animals perform their proper labours with an unwearied industry, and an unerring precision, which call forth our wonder and admiration. Of these remarkable qualities we have given abundant examples in the preceding pages; and they are not without moral instruction. Elevated as our minds are in the comparative scale of nature, we may still take example from the diligence, the perseverance, and the cheerfulness, which preside over the Architecture of Birds.”

There are nearly eighty cuts in the present volume—many from specimens, all from excellent authorities, and of any but common-place character.

TOMB OF PAUL AND VIRGINIA.

Junior lieutenants and midshipmen, and others of the age of romance, always make it a point to visit these tombs as soon as possible after their arrival. If they can only get on shore for a few hours, they hire or borrow horses, and proceed with all haste to the interesting scene. On reaching the spot to which they are directed, they enter a pretty garden, laid out with great care, and are conducted along a walk bordered with bushes, bearing a profusion of roses, and having a stream of the clearest water flowing on each side. At the end of this walk the visiter sees a red, glaring monument, which he is told is the tomb of Virginia; at the termination of a similar avenue, on the opposite side of the garden, appears another monument, exactly resembling the first, which is designated the tomb of Paul: a grove of bamboos surrounds each. The traveller feels disappointed on beholding these red masses, instead of elegant monuments of Parian marble, which would seem alone worthy of such a purpose and such a situation. But that is not the only disappointment destined to be experienced by him: after having allowed his imagination to depict the shades of Paul and Virginia hovering about the spot where their remains repose—after having pleased himself with the idea that he had seen those celebrated tombs, and given a sigh to the memory of those faithful lovers, separated in life, but in death united—after all this waste of sympathy, he learns at last that he has been under a delusion the whole time—that no Virginia was there interred, and that it is a matter of doubt whether there ever existed such a person as Paul! What a pleasing illusion is then dispelled! How many romantic dreams, inspired by the perusal of St. Pierre’s tale, are doomed to vanish when the truth is ascertained! The fact is, that these tombs have been built to gratify the eager desire which the English have always evinced to behold such interesting mementos. Formerly only one was erected; but the proprietor of the place, finding that all the English visiters, on being conducted to this, as the tomb of Virginia, always asked to see that of Paul also, determined on building a similar one, to which he gave that appellation. Many have been the visiters who have been gratified, consequently, by the conviction that they had looked on the actual burial-place of that unfortunate pair. These “tombs” are scribbled over with the names of the various persona who have visited them, together with verses and pathetic ejaculations, and sentimental remarks. St. Pierre’s story of the lovers is very prettily written, and his description of the scenic beauties of the island are correct, although not even his pen can do full justice to them; but there is little truth in the tale. It is said, that there was indeed a young lady sent from the Mauritius to France, for education, during the time that Monsieur de la Bourdonnais was governor of the colony—that her name was Virginia, and that she was shipwrecked in the St. Geran. I heard something of a young man being attached to her, and dying of grief for her loss; but that part of the story is very doubtful. The “Bay of the Tomb,” the “Point of Endeavour,” the “Isle of Amber,” and the “Cape of Misfortune,” still bear the same names, and are pointed out as the memorable spots mentioned by St. Pierre.—Recollections of the Mauritius.