THE NATURALIST AND THE BIRD. 
503 
plants awaken in his heart a special life; the animated 
beings speak to him in a common tongue,—masonic, I 
may say,—which he understands. He will conjure up in 
his mind a whole mountain from one single stone; a tree 
from a twig; from one note the whole life of a bird. The 
rustling of the Swallow’s wing, as it whirls past him, 
carries him far away over land and sea; the capricious 
flitting of the butterfly unfolds, before his mind’s eye, 
brightly-coloured, friendly pictures of life, which change 
like the patterns of the kaleidoscope. The leaf of a plant 
opens out to his imagination a domain rich in magic 
forms, with whose structure, web, and woof, he is better 
acquainted than any other child of man; petrified animals 
and plants transport him to an era thousands of years 
back, and guide him safely through the dark pages of the 
past. To him the earth is a hook; to him the heavens 
speak,—all the world is his ! 
I, however, must now confine myself to “ the naturalist 
and the bird.” He who is only half at home with 
Nature on this earth of ours, will be able approximately 
to appreciate the feelings with which the naturalist 
wanders and travels from place to place : wherever he 
may be, he finds friendly forms. For years he has silently 
watched the interior economy and household arrange¬ 
ments of animated nature, and yet he has not seen all; 
and on this account he is never in want of employment. 
Every bird is a personal friend: the old ones he knows 
almost as well as he knows himself, and the new ones 
must be studied. How much more is there yet to 
observe ! Rich as he may be in experiences, every fresh 
ramble brings him fresh mental treasure. The relations 
existing between him and the bird become each day more 
and more intimate: he knows the lives and habits of 
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