INTELLIGENCE OF BIRDS. Iol 



profound mystery a word has been invented which satisfies easy 

 minds: thus, we call the sentiment which leads birds to perform 

 many admirable actions which are related of them, instinct. The 

 tenderness of the mother for her young — a tenderness so full of 

 delicacy and foresight — is, we say, only the result of instinct. It is 

 agreed on all hands, however, that this instinct singularly resembles 

 the intelligence called reason, and, in the opinion of many, is nothing 

 else. 



Reproduction in birds occurs at intervals regulated by Nature, 

 and they are distinguished above all other creatures for the fidelity of 

 their affections. It is frequently observed when a male becomes so 

 attached to a female, that they henceforth live together till separated 

 by death ; and many affecting scenes are described of the grief of the 

 survivor for the loss of his or her mate. When the breeding season 

 approaches, the habits of the female are modified. She abandons 

 her former freedom, and, having laid her eggs, she passes her whole 

 time in incubation, defying hunger and other dangers, apparently 

 well knowing that the equal and prolonged heat communicated from 

 her body is necessary to hatch her eggs. During the period of 

 incubation the male, in most instances, watches the female, and 

 supplies her with food ; afterwards the little ones are waited on by 

 both parents with the tenderest care until the young are sufficiently 

 old to provide for themselves. 



The solicitude of birds for their young is first manifested in the 

 choice of the locality for the nest, and in the care with which this 

 cradle of their progeny is constructed. But all this disappears when 

 the young no longer require the maternal protection. 



In spring, when the birds have paired, they commence at once 

 to collect the materials necessary for their nest. Each carries its 

 blade of grass or stem of moss ; large birds contenting themselves 

 with coarser materials — chips of wood, or branches of trees interlaced 

 with twigs, lined with hair and other soft substances, are fashioned 

 by them into the necessary shape. But the smaller species really 

 display great art in framing their miniature dwelling, which they line 

 inside with wool, blades of grass, or down — their effort is to make a 

 soft, warm, and solid bed on which to deposit the coming eggs, the 

 male and female labouring in the common work. They have also 

 recourse to all sorts of cunning devices in order to conceal their 

 nest from prying eyes, choosing for this purpose the heart of a leafy 

 bush, the forked limb, the concealed crack or hollow in the trunk of 

 a tree, the chimneys of a house, crevices in a wall or under a roof. 

 Curiously enough, the nests of the same species are fashioned in 



