1&2 



EECEEATIVE SCIENCE. 



times has the humane courage to let him go 

 for his beauty's sake. But the robin has 

 character as well as beauty ; his bold outline, 

 broad chest, and twinkling eyes give him the 

 attitude of a chieftain ; and his breast wears 

 the robe of royalty, by which we know him 

 best. 



The unmatched sweetness and wildness 

 of his song — the personal dash of his bearing, 

 his fearless familiarity, his solitariness as he 

 stands all alone on the top of a gate-post, 

 defying the blasts of Boreas and the snow- 

 shrouds and sleety arrows of Death, which 

 have conquered all but him — the brightness 

 of his scarlet breast, and the web of romance 

 that centuries have woven in his honour ; — 

 these are sufficient reasons why the robin 

 should enjoy the highest fame among the 

 birds of Britain. Therefore is he ouvfiiend 

 the robin, whom we never see and never 

 hear but we feel a thrill of homeliness 

 that springs from the very seat of our best 

 affections ; for, after all, he is a helpless 

 creature, and our human sympathies warm 

 up with most force and spontaniety for all 

 who tenderly manifest their dependence upon 

 us. If the excellence of love is to be mea- 

 sured by comparisons, the mother loves no 

 chUd so fervently as the one she has to 

 nurse, and soothe, and nestle to her bosom ; 

 and as if he knew that human love must ex- 

 press itself in kindness, he comes without 

 fear to the threshold, and even takes his place 

 at the table to share with us the best we 

 have, and so wins our whole heart by his 

 confidence. 



What an uninteresting bird is the robin 

 apart from these poetical features of his 

 history ! He takes a wife in direct opposition 

 to the precepts of Malthus, renounces the 

 idea of prudence and provision beforehand 

 for a family, but simply yields to impulse, 

 and " takes no thought for the morrow." 

 The nest is often built while snow lies thick 

 on the ground, most frequently at the bottom 

 of an old hedge, sometimes in a hole in an 



old wall, or in a boss of ivy, and most rarely 

 of all on the summit of a thick bush. With 

 an instinctive veneration for the past, the 

 robin avoids all new places, and gives the 

 preference to a hedge that has not been 

 clipped for years, in which the stems of the 

 quicks are matted a foot deep in dead leaves 

 and wisps of moist hay ; or on a wall that is 

 in ruins, and which the ivy will some day, 

 not far distant, bring to the ground. A 

 hollow in a root, an old pile of mossy faggots, 

 a neglected corner of a woodyard — these are 

 the places in which you may look out for 

 the robin, if you want to study his domestic 

 life. Turner, who wrote on the "Eobinet" 

 — he was so called by Drayton and others of 

 the old writers — three centuries ago, set afloat 

 a whole chapter of inaccuracies, which have 

 been copied by almost every writer since, 

 including even WHloughby, Buffon, and 

 Bewick. Turner says, he "nestleth as far as 

 possible from towns and cities, in the thickest 

 copses and orchards ;" whereas, in truth, the 

 robin loves the neighbourhood of man all 

 the year round, though his peculiar fami- 

 liarity is manifested only in autumn and 

 winter ; and in every one of the suburbs of 

 London, where there is any touch of rurality, 

 the robin regularly builds, and rears its 

 young. At Stoke Newington, there are as 

 many robins' nests every spring as there are 

 of blackbirds and thrushes ; and he is only 

 beaten in this respect by the sparrow, which 

 is a social bird, whereas the robin is a hermit, 

 and an association of hermits would be para- 

 doxical. Turner says, "she coverethher nest 

 with archwork, leaving only one way for 

 entrance, for which purpose she builds with 

 leaves a long porch before the doorway ; all 

 which, before going out to feed, she covereth 

 with leaves." This is another mistake, which 

 nearly all the writers on birds have copied ; 

 but there is just a grain of truth in it, be- 

 cause the nest is usually in the midst of a 

 collection of drifted rubbish and dead leaves, 

 and is therefore not easy to find; but a 



