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But the most general favour will always be shewn to the field naturalist. We love the simplicity of Gilbert White, as he tells his unvarnished tale of the doings of the birds, animals, and insects, inhabiting the woods of Selborne. His old tortoise becomes quite an old friend, and we peruse its history with regardful interest. There is a tender association about the neat village, with its 'Plestor,' and church, and wooded hill, that partakes of the cherished feeling towards the home of our childhood, and naturalists have pilgrimaged thither, and have bowed over the tomb of the good old vicar with affectionate respect. It has been truly said that 'White has conferred more general celebrity on Selborne, than perhaps any other man ever conferred on any other village.'

In the same group of naturalists, though of a much higher order of mind than White, was Alexander Wilson. In his character were united the zeal of an enthusiast, the ideality of a poet, and the quick perception of an observer of nature. By birth a Scotchman, and in early life exposed to hardships, in the midst of which his strength of character was marked; he emigrated to America, and his name is now associated with his adopted country, and ever will be as long as his inimitable sketches of American Ornithology are regarded as their merits deserve. Though he was in a great measure self-educated, his writings bear the marks of the highest talent,-his descriptions are so graphic as almost to equal scenic illustrations,—and over all there is thrown a beauty and eloquence of diction which of itself must always command admiration. With the labours of minds like his, natural history would soon advance far in public estimation. He makes the history of the bald eagle or the mocking bird almost equal to romance, and we are surprised, when we rise from its perusal, to find that an account of the habits of such creatures could so enthral our attention. Dr. Johnson once predicted that Goldsmith would make natural history as interesting as a Persian tale,-this, which his miserable compilation after Buffon did not do, Alexander Wilson has accomplished. Were we to select from amongst the highpriests of nature's temple, he should be our model, and we would seek to imitate him in his enthusiasm, his descriptive accuracy, and in the warm glow of poetic feeling that beamed in his eyes, and gave a new beauty to every thing.

Mr. Waterton (whose autobiography has suggested this train of thought) belongs to the same group of field naturalists, but he wants the mild simplicity of White and the ideality of Wilson, having however a much greater sense of the humorous than either. He displays considerable power of observation, and his descriptions are often highly amusing. His controver

sies have been very numerous, and he tilts with Mr. Swainson and other naturalists, in a most vigorous manner, using his ability for caustic retort to its full extent.

The first work that brought Mr. Waterton into notice was his Wanderings in South America, and subsequently his contributions to Loudon's Magazine of Natural History, obtained considerable popularity. They were collected and published in 1838, being prefixed with a sketch of his own life. A second series of these Essays forms the volume before us, which also contains a further portion of Mr. Waterton's autobiography.

In the preface to the present work, our author quotes a proverb of the Spaniards: Happy the man,' say they, who has written no more than one book,' and he expresses his fears lest he may injure his reputation by deviating again 'from the Spanish line of certitude, into the mazes of chance and danger,' exposed to the attacks of criticism. Our respect for Mr. Waterton leads us to regret that he did not pay more deference to the words of caution above quoted. He has certainly written one book too many. The present is by no means equal to the first series of Essays, and is unworthy the reputation of the author of the Wanderings. The first part of his autobiography was piquant and interesting, the present is of quite an opposite character. If a man has not actually done something worthy of narration, it is a dangerous thing to attempt to make himself the hero of a story, since he must necessarily-as in this instance -fill his book with trivial details unworthy of publication. We are sorry to write thus of Mr. Waterton. His former volumes afforded us amusement and instruction-towards himself personally we have much esteem-and we regret to criticise his present work with severity, as it is published with the kind motive of rendering assistance to the widow of the late Mr. Loudon, the eminent horticulturist. We regret, for the sake of his reputation, that Mr. Waterton did not adopt some other mode of gratifying his very laudable benevolence.

Our readers are probably aware that he is a catholic, but they will scarcely be prepared to find him so thoroughly imbued with Roman superstition. We were in hopes that a man possessing so much information on other subjects would hold his religious belief in a more enlightened manner. Roman catholicism, in its gorgeous ceremonies and pretended miracles, seems especially adapted to impress the uncultured mind of a debased population, but we scarcely expected to find Mr. Waterton, when at Naples, kissing five times in the course of five hours a bottle containing the solid blood of St. Januarius, and reporting with holy fervour the due performance of the miracle which caused its liquefaction. And when this 'stupendous miracle' was ended,

the multitude, we are told, 'blessed and praised Almighty God for this signal mark of his favour;' and our author was so forcibly struck with the occurrence, that 'everything else, in the whole course of his life, in the shape of adventures, now appeared to him to be trivial and of no amount!' Even the celebrated feat of riding the crocodile's back sinks into insignificance when compared with the miraculous bottle. Scarcely less impressive would seem to have been the sight which Mr. Waterton obtained of

'The titulus which was fixed over the head of our dying Saviour; a most learned rabbi has proved its authenticity, if any new proof were wanting, for the historical records at the time of its being brought to Rome are so clear and positive, that no one who has any faith at all in history, can doubt that this identical piece of wood is the same that was used on the cross when our blessed Lord suffered for the sins of the world. The wood itself is sycamore, and the words appear as though they had been cut hastily into it by some sharp-pointed instrument.'Autobiography, p. lxvi.

The greater part of the period comprised in the present portion of his autobiography, was spent in Italy, and it would have been interesting, as showing a Roman catholic's impressions respecting the institutions of that country, did not the display of superstitious credulity excite painful feelings. Mr. Waterton has shown little judgment in assuming the office of apologist for 'the faith of our ancestors,' as it is exhibited in the 'eternal city.' We admire the honest boldness with which, though utterly unarmed, he has entered the polemical lists, but it would display more wisdom to leave the defence of his theology to such men as Wiseman, and to be content with ornithological controversy, which seems to be, in an especial manner, his own province. There is, however, an evident sincerity about Mr. Waterton's statements that secures our respect, despite the narrowness of his views. The gravity with which he defends the annual ceremony of the benediction of beasts of burden is truly edifying. He describes this 'scene of primeval piety' with evident satisfaction, as it plainly accorded with both his naturalhistorical, and religious sympathies.

But his visit to Italy was not without interest of a scientific character. His ornithological studies were not neglected, and the bird-market of Rome presented abundant opportunity for obtaining specimens.

The bird-market of Rome is held in the environs of the rotunda, formerly the pantheon. Nothing astonished me more than the quantities of birds which were daily exposed for sale during the season; I could often count above four hundred thrushes and blackbirds, and often a hundred robin-redbreasts in one quarter of it; with twice as many VOL. XVII.

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larks, and other small birds in vast profusion. In the course of one day, seventeen thousand quails have passed the Roman custom-house; these pretty vernal and autumnal travellers are taken in nets of prodigious extent on the shores of the Mediterranean. In the spring of the year, and at the close of summer, cart-loads of ringdoves arrive at the stalls near the rotunda.'-Autobiography, p. lxvii.

Mr. Waterton had, however, more delightful opportunities of studying the birds of Italy. In the environs of Rome, the ornamental grounds of the villa Pamphili Doria are thrown open to the public by the generous liberality of their princely owner, and here Mr. Waterton enjoyed the exquisite pleasure arising from the combination of all that is beautiful in nature, with all that is elegant in art. But we shall give our author's own description, as a favourable specimen of his style:

The marble fountains of Pamphili Doria, its lofty trees, its waterfalls, its terraces, its shrubs and flowers and wooded winding-paths, delight the soul of man, and clearly prove what magic scenes can be produced when studied art goes hand in hand with nature. The walk, canopied by evergreens of ancient growth, and at the end of which a distant view of St. Peter's colossal temple bursts upon the sight, has so much truth and judgment in its plan, that I question whether its parallel can be found in the annals of horticultural design. When St. Peter's dome is illuminated, while standing under the wooded archway of this walk, you may fancy yourself on the confines of Elysium.

Towards the close of April, the walks of Pamphili Doria resound with the sweet notes of the nightingale both day and night; and from February to mid-July, the thrush and blackbird pour forth incessant strains of melody. There stands in this enclosure a magnificent grove of stone pines, vast in their dimensions and towering in their height. Here the harmless jackdaw nestles, here the hooded crow is seen, here the starling breeds in numbers, and here the roller, decked in all the brilliant plumage of the tropics, comes to seek his daily fare.'-Essays, pp. 27-30.

Mr. Waterton's visit to Rome made him acquainted with a species of bird to which, in his opinion, the allusion is made in Psalm cii. 7-the sparrow alone upon the house-top'-and we shall give our readers the advantage of his discovery. They are of course aware that the Psalmist could not refer to our common sparrow, whose habits are by no means solitary. Mr. Waterton

says:

The bird to which the repentant king of Israel compared himself in the seven penitential psalms is a real thrush in size, in shape, in habits, and in song; with this difference from the rest of its tribe, that it is remarkable throughout all the East for sitting solitary on the habitations of man. It is indeed a solitary bird, for it never associates with any other, and only with its own mate in breeding time; and even then it is often quite alone upon the house-top, where it warbles in sweet

and plaintive strains, and continues its song as it moves in easy flight from roof to roof. The traveller who is fond of ornithology may often see this bird on the remains of the Temple of Peace, and occasionally in the villa Borghese, but much more frequently on the stupendous ruins of the baths of Caracalla, where it breeds in holes of the walls, and always on the Colosseum, where it likewise makes its nest; and, in fine, at one time or other of the day, on the tops of most of the churches, monasteries, and convents, within and without the walls of the eternal city. It lays five eggs of a very pale blue. They much resemble those of our starling. The bird itself is blue, with black wings and tail; the blue of the body becoming lighter when placed in different attitudes.'-Essays, pp. 5-7.

The geographical range of this species of thrush extends to Judæa and the other countries of the East, and we think, therefore, that Mr. Waterton's hypothesis is by no means improbable.

Mr. Waterton gives a remarkable instance of the power of vegetation. He states that at Walton Hall, some generations ago, there stood a water-mill, of which the only vestige left is a massive mill-stone seventeen feet in circumference. In the year 1813 a nut having fallen through the hole in the centre of the stone, vegetated and shot forth its stem, when he predicted to a friend that If the young plant escaped destruction, some time or other it would support the mill-stone and raise it from the ground.' And this extraordinary phenomenon actually took place:

Year after year it increased in size and beauty; and when its expansion had entirely filled the hole in the centre of the mill-stone, it gradually began to raise up the mill-stone itself from the seat of its long repose. This huge mass of stone is now eight inches above the ground, and is entirely supported by the stem of the nut tree, which has risen to the height of twenty-five feet, and bears excellent fruit. Strangers often inspect this original curiosity. When I meet a visitor whose mild physiognomy informs me that his soul is proof against the stormy winds of politics, which now-a-days set all the world in a ferment, I venture a small attempt at pleasantry, and say, that I never pass this tree and mill-stone without thinking of poor old Mr. Bull, with a weight of eight hundred millions of pounds round his galled neck; fruitful source of speculation to a Machiavel, but of sorrow to a Washington.'-Essays, pp. 23, 24.

Mr. Waterton, politically, belongs to the progressista party, and yet, curiously enough, all his sympathies are in the opposite direction. He is an instance, amongst many others, of the paradoxical position of Roman catholicism in this country. We see a church whose principles are absolutist, both in civil and religious matters, allying herself with radicalism, and advocating toleration-her prelates in Ireland denouncing religious establishments, whilst her pope and cardinals in Italy are the rulers of a state, with every department of which their religion is

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