200 BIRD LIFE GLIMPSES 



happiness lies, whilst the inability, from various 

 causes, to do so, constitutes misery. But with the 

 building bird there is no real labour, nothing that 

 really makes toil, only a fine exhilarating exercise 

 which must be a pleasure in itself, and to which is 

 added that pleasure which ease and excellence in 

 anything we do and wish to do, confers. The best 

 human equivalent for the joy which a bird must 

 feel in building its nest, is, I think, that of a great 

 artist or sculptor, whose soul is entirely absorbed in 

 his work. Those who pity the toils of such men 

 in producing their masterpieces may, with equal 

 propriety, pity the bird ; but here, too, the latter 

 has the advantage, for not even the sway of genius 

 can be so overmastering as that of a genuine in- 

 stinct, the strength of which v/e must estimate by 

 those few primary ones — we call them passions — 

 which are left in ourselves. 



It is this mighty joy in the breast of the little tit, 

 which, by the help of natural selection, has pro- 

 duced, as I beUeve, his wonderful little nest, and if 

 we watch him building we may get a hint as to how 

 the charming little round door that gives admission 

 to it, has come about. He did not contrive it, but 

 by having, always, his one way in and out, and con- 

 tinuing to build, it grew to be there ; for even when 

 the nest is but a shallow cup, open all round, the 

 birds enter and leave it by one uniform way, so that 

 this way must be left, right up to the very last, by 

 which time it has become that neat little aperture, 

 which looks so nicely thought out. Something like 

 design may, perhaps, now have entered into the con- 

 struction, which would account for the hole getting, 



