CHAPTER VI. 



THE STRUGGLE FOR LIFE. 



Matthew Arnold, in a well-remembered line, de- 

 scribes a bird in Kensington Gardens " deep in its un- 

 known day's employ." But, peace to tbe poet, its 

 employ is all too certain. Its day is spent in strug- 

 gling to get a living ; and a very hard day it is. It 

 awoke at daybreak and set out to catch its morning 

 meal; but another bird was awake before it, and it 

 lost its chance. With fifty other breakfastless birds, 

 it had to bide its time, to scour the country ; to pros- 

 pect the trees, the grass, the ground ; to lie in ambush ; 

 to attack and be defeated ; to hope and be forestalled. 

 At every meal the same programme is gone through, 

 and every day. As the seasons change the pressure 

 becomes more keen. Its supplies are exhausted, and 

 it has to take wing for hundreds and thousands of 

 miles to find new hunting-ground. This is how birds 

 live, and this is how birds are made. They are the 

 children of Struggle. Beak and limb, claw and wing, 

 shape, strength, all down to the last detail, are the ex- 

 pressions of their mode of life. 



This is how the early savage lived, and this is how 

 he was made. The first practical problem in the 



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