ioo FIELD AND HEDGEROW. 



came over the sharp ridge of a slate roof and met a 

 slight current of wind which blew against that side of 

 the shed and rose up it. The bird remained there sus- 

 pended with outstretched wings, resting on the up- 

 current as if the air had been solid, for some moments. 

 He rode there at anchor in the air. So buoyant is the 

 swallow that it is no more to him to fly than it is to the 

 fish to swim ; and, indeed, I think that a trout in a swift 

 mountain stream needs much greater strength to hold 

 himself in the rapid day and night without rest. The 

 friction of the water is constant against him, and he 

 never folds his fins and sleeps. The more I think the 

 more I am convinced that the buoyancy of the air is 

 very far greater than science admits, and under certain 

 conditions it is superior to water as a supporting 

 medium. Swift and mobile as is the swallow's wing, 

 how much swifter and how much more mobile must 

 be his eye ! This rapid and ever-changing course is not 

 followed for pleasure as if it were a mazy dance. The 

 whole time as he floats, and glides, and wheels, his eye 

 is intent on insects so small as to be invisible to us at a 

 very short distance. These he gathers in the air, he 

 sees what we cannot see, his eyes are to our eyes as his 

 wings are to our limbs. If still further we were to 

 consider the flow of the nerve force between the eye, 

 the mind, and the wing, we should be face to face with 

 problems which quite upset the ordinary ideas of matter 

 as a solid thing. How is it that dull matter becomes 

 thus inexpressibly sensitive ? Is not the swallow's eye 

 a miracle ? Then his heart, for he sings as he flies ; he 

 makes love and converses, and all as he rushes along — 

 his hopes, his fears, his little store of knowledge, and his 

 wonderful journey by-and-by to Africa. Remember, he 

 carries his life in his wings as we should say in our 



