10 
THE COW-PEN -BIRD. 
Molothrus pecoris, Gmel. 
PLATE CCXIJ. — Male, Female, and Young. 
The works of Nature are evidently perfect in all their parts. From the 
manifestations of consummate skill everywhere displayed, we must infer that 
the intellect which planned the grand scheme, is infinite in power ; and even 
when we observe parts or objects which to us seem unnecessary, superflu- 
ous, or useless, it would be more consistent with the ideas which we ought 
to have of our own feeble apprehension, to consider them as still perfect, 
to have been formed for a purpose, and to execute their intended function, 
than to view them as abortive and futile attempts. 
The seed is dropped on the ground. It imbibes moisture, swells, and 
its latent principle of life receiving an impulse, slowly unfolds. Its radicle 
shoots down into the earth, its plumule rises towards the sky. The first 
leaflets appear, and as we watch its progress, we see it assuming size and 
strength. Years pass on, and it still enlarges. It produces flowers and 
fruits, and gives shelter to multitudes of animated beings. At length it 
stands the glory of the forest, spreading abroad its huge arms, covering 
with its dense foliage the wild animals that retreat to it for protection from 
the sun and the rain. Centuries after its birth, the stately tree rears its 
green head to the sky. At length symptoms of decay begin to manifest 
themselves. The branches wither, the core dies and putrefies. Grey and 
shaggy lichens cover its trunk and limbs. The Woodpecker resorts to it 
for the purpose of procuring the insects which find shelter beneath its 
decayed bark. Blackness spreads over the heavens, the muttering of the 
thunder is heard. Suddenly there comes on the ear the rushing noise of 
the whirlwind, which scatters the twigs and the foliage around, and meeting 
in its path the patriarch of the forest, lays him prostrate on the ground. 
For years the massy trunk lies extended on the earth ; but it is seen gradu- 
ally giving way. The summer’s sun and the winter’s frost crumble it into 
dust, which goes to augment the soil. And thus has it finished its course. 
Look again at the egg, dropped on its curious bed, the construction of 
which has cost the parent bird many labours and anxieties. It also is a seed, 
but it gives rise to a very different object. Fostered by the warmth imparted 
by the anxious parent, the germ which it contains swells into life, and at 
