A sunbeam is more easily caught by the pencil than a bird, with its vivid and eccentric movements. When, therefore, the progress of imitative art is considered as inevitably determined by the facilities of execution growing out of the nature of its objects, it becomes a matter less of surprise than of curious observation, that so many centuries of progressive refinement should have been marked respectively by the approach of some other of its departments to perfection, while this, of ornithological illustration, is only just now to be regarded as afford. ing such indications.

Architecture, which has for its type "God's Temple of the earth and sky," was earliest perfected, for here the imitative faculty was first compelled into service by men's necessities. Sculpture, with its still forms, next followed, and man's prevailing egoism re-created himself in marble. Then followed, by irresistible association, those objects most intimately near him, on which his feet were pressed, and which afforded him, in a great degree, shelter and food-and Botany first grew, in the wreaths about the marble brows of heroes, and on the frescoes of their shafted temples, into a science. It is to be observed, that the same nicety of eye and consummate skill which made the Grecian chisel immortal, through the limbs and expression of their deities and athletæ, is apparent in the curves, lobes, edging, and even veins, of the tendrils, flowers, and vine-leaves thrown into their ornation; while all figures of beasts, and especially of birds, whether appearing in hieroglyphics or over the porticos of their temples, bore always miserably crude and monstrous outlines. Their pet emblem, the Phoenix -a bird especially delighting in ashes would hardly be distinguished, if put in the same place, from the extraordinary and celebrated Anser-Eagle on the Boston Merchants' Exchange; and those portions of the Centaur legitimately equine would scarcely serve to mount a Wellington statue.

This distinction is traceable through all the phases of antique art, whether we

look for it in the exquisite moulding of Etruscan vases, or in the figures of the fresco work, which may be seen on the walls of their tombs and buried palaces. Penelope, or the "chaste Lucrece," may have labored on tapestry, "with wondrous needle,"

"Nature's own shape of branch and berry, That even her art sisters the natural roses, Her inkle silk twin with the rubied cherry,"

but we doubt if a hypogriff or the ram of Colchis would have been very accurately figured.

This discrepancy in art would appear the more remarkable, were it not that

it is coupled with an analogous deficiency in the natural science of the times. The old philosophy took MAN for its centre and reasoned out to the circumference of God. Man's

-"shadow on the world's vast mirror

shown,"

of course exhibited all the conditions of Polytheism, Pantheism, or whatever name is chosen to designate the old mythology. This fantastic spiritualization omitted the inferior grades in its deductions, and has left to modern science the task of elucidating their relations to universal truth. It is not specially to be wondered at that either sculpture or painting should have most readily selected for their subjects such familiar groups as offered, by their attitudes of repose, the greatest facilities of imitation. But the impulse which has always driven genius above mere forms to the expression of the spiritual, elevated these common things into creations; and in Italian art, while scenes of passion, in which children of the dust rose and grew mighty till "the god expanded on their brows," were added to "enduring memories"-the elements, also, which add beauty and grandeur to natural scenery, from the most striking to the simplest of inanimate objects, were melted upon the canvass in miraculous colors. But the same omissions and characteristics which we have noted as peculiar to the features of classic art, as well as to its philosophy, are apparent here.

We

Ornithological Biography; or, An States of America: By John James

find the most accurate exhibitions of the human figure, with the finest combinations of natural scenery, but the lower grades of mere animal existence were almost totally neglected. When the forms of animals are introduced at all, they are exclusively those of our domestic familiars, and these matchless pencils seem at once to forget their cunning in portraying them. The careless regard of anatomical finish apparent, betrays the little attention to comparative science which marked the period. As for birds, they were scarcely thought of as legitimate subjects in the composition of that glorious era of art, only constituting, as it were, an accidental feature. Even the brush of Titian slurred over a dove, content with mere outline, without aiming at expression. Though, at a later period, the Flemish school deviated into grotesquery, and delighted in cats, monkeys, and monsters, with an occasional accurate drawing of some domestic creature, like Paul Potter's Bull, yet nothing real has been accomplished in the portraying of objects of natural history until our own time, when Lanseer in animals, and Audubon in birds, have suddenly carried up their respective departments to the rank of highest art. These considerations are the more curious when we remark, as has been suggested before, how perfectly this artistic progression has kept pace with the development of our actual knowledge of Natural History.

The same train of mingled necessity and convenience which led the earlier sculptors and painters to select for their subjects of art, first, the human form, and then those inanimate objects most intimately associated with it-which offered, in their still life, greater facilities for study and imitation than could possibly be perceived in the fugitive and active forms of the animal kingdomhas no doubt been essentially, and to as great a degree, definitive of the course of philosophic research through the same field. It is not less remarkable than historically correct, that though the Grecian chisel and Italian pencil have furnished models which are the envy and emulation of our time-though our ethics and poetry glory in a classic basis on which we have superstructed few improvements yet we are at liberty to glorify ourselves in the fact that almost

in our hands alone, and certainly through the discovery of this magnificent western world, has this department of Natural History been elevated into the proper dignity of a science. Aristotle and Pliny are the only classic names at all identified with its subjects, and the vague, romancing, and absurd deductions which characterize their treatment, afford us rather matter of amusement than serious consideration. But it is not amidst classic associations only that we are necessitated to observe these crudities. They are abundantly apparent through all the heavy stages of European progress down to our own time; nor was it till genius had caught an eloquent impulse from the majestic beauty of a new continent-not unaffected, also, by our free institutions and free societythat the hardy realization of bold conceptions startled the European mind from the complacency of self-satisfied repose into an unexpected recognition of what was really embraced in the study of Ornithology.

To trace the feeble struggles of Ornithology through the fog of technicalities thrown around it by the Linnæan school, and the yet denser mystification of ridiculous legends by later "Cabinet Naturalists," to the period when, with the impulse of genius in the American wilderness, it emerged into the clear light, affords a contrast not a little flattering to our national feeling. It need not be urged, as an offset, that Wilson was a Paisley weaver, and that therefore Scotland is entitled to share his honors with us. Had he remained the drudging slave of oppressive institutions, the daring conception of his great work could never have expanded into execution. The man was in him undoubtedly before he came here; he had felt the restless movement of power to accomplish much; but until the wild grandeur of our fresh and boundless scenery burst upon him with its inspiration to great deeds, these yearnings had been undefined. The direction once given, there was everything in the lenient freedom of our social state, in the profuse abundance and hospitality by which he saw himself surrounded, to encourage him with the hope of realizing the suggestions of his taste.-But he had to send to England for his patronage. And was it not quite as much as could be expected

of our national infancy, that we should furnish her with worthier objects than she herself had been able to produce, for the outlay of her superfluous and idle wealth? We had hardly recovered from pecuniary distresses left by the war of the Revolution, and the greater portion of the continent was yet a wilderness, but here and there impressed by the hands of civilized men. Little money and less time were the toiling tradesmen by the Atlantic shore, and the hardy woodsman on the outskirts of the forest, able to spare for anything in the shape of Art. The same remark may be made of the somewhat similar case of Audubon, though without the drawback of any dispute as to our full and entire claim to the glorious "American Woodsman," as he proudly styled himself, while he "ruffled among his peers," the lettered giants of the "City of the Craigs"-the admired centre of observation. He is ours beyond any cavil-and it must be acknowledged that the fact of our having produced the two unrivalled masters of a science which has always languished in the old world, is somewhat significant of the relevancy, to say the least of it, of the suggestion that there is something in our atmosphere sufficiently congenial to the vitality of genius. We have only to set forth what had actually been accomplished by European ornithologists down to the time of Wilson, to fully justify any selfgratulation of which we may be accused. After Aristotle and Pliny, it seems that Peter Belon, in 1555, had published at Paris the first book on ornithology. This earliest effort, as might be expected, was characterized by great imperfections; the attempt at illustration was preposterous, and his biographies were mainly distinguished for the inventive facility, or broad credulity, of their author. That this should be so is not singular to the birth of this or any other science; but the misfortune is, that this inventive credulity has been duplicated and enlarged upon in most of the succeeding versions. The so-called Naturalists have been mere compilers, who have not attempted, by personal observation of the creatures treated of, out in the solitude of their own haunts, to correct the mistakes of predecessors, and faithfully add, to whatever of truth they might find, accurate knowledge of their own, but have been content to collate such statements as they could pick up, taking it for granted that whatever had

been printed must be gospel. Now, this easy simplicity and ready faith has, indeed, merit of its own, and, is highly commendable in place, but it is questionable whether the field of science is the legitimate one for its exhibition. Gesner, next, assigns the third volume of his History of Animals to birds. This is almost stereotyped from the former, with a few " additions" but not "improvements." Francis Willoughby then writes a comparatively respectable work in Latin, which was afterwards translated and improved by Mr. Ray. The ground gained by these two men was in the adoption of more rational principles of classification, which, in the former instances, had been loosely determined by the character of the food, size, shape, &c. But all difficulties on such points were fully done away with by the appearance, in 1776, of the great nomenclator, Linnæus, who reduced nearly the whole circle of natural sciences to a rigidly accurate and luminous classification, from which there are few " modern instances” of essential variation. Though the work of Linnæus was in itself vast, and indispensably demanded for the disentanglement of the involutions consequent upon a large and incessantly accumulating series of genera, yet the method adopted by him, and only wise under his use of it, has been, in the hands of his disciples, most fatal to the very progress it was intended to facilitate. The study of Natural History was now, in a great measure, confined to the mere outline of harsh and pompous technicalities. The naturalist became a stilt-walking bibliograph of swelling epithets, and all that lends the charm of vivacity to such delightful subjects was overlaid and verily smothered by a ponderous and unwieldy terminology. Of course, in this crustaceous envelope, Ornithology was not particularly inviting. The shell was too hard and rough to be readily attempted by that nice fastidious taste, which most readily appreciates and happily illustrates its pleasant themes, and it fell almost exclusively into the hands of dry old paper-moths, whose dull fatiguing compilations only tended to stultify more profoundly the inanities of their predecessors. To be sure, it is rather a sweeping use of terms to designate the labors of Buffon in this way without reserve; for, however deficient in accuracy they may be, his style is certainly agreeable and popular. His ro

mances have the same irresistible attraction of freshness and earnest simplicity about them which belongs to the Tales of Sinbad the Sailor, and we equally relish the piquant gravity of the veracious narrator, whether he tells us of the mighty roc, with its mountain-sized egg, or of the marvellous nightingales, concerning whom Buffon thus endorses :-.

"Gesner tells the following story, which he says was communicated to him by a friend :

"Whilst I was at Ratisbone,' says his correspondent, I put up at an inn, the sign of the Golden Crown, where my host had three nightingales. It happened at that time, being the spring of the year, when those birds are accustomed to sing, that I was so afflicted with the stone, that

I could sleep but very little all night. It was usual then about midnight, to hear the two nightingales jangling and talking with each other, and plainly imitating men's discourses. Besides repeating the daily discourse of the guests, they chaunted out two stories. One of their stories was concerning the tapster and his wife, who refused to follow him to the wars as he desired her; for the husband endeavored to persuade his wife, as far as I understood by the birds, that he would leave his service in that inn, and go to the wars in hopes of plunder. But she refused to follow him, resolving to stay either at Ratisbone, or go to Nuremberg. There was a long and earnest contention between them; and all this dialogue the birds repeated. They even repeated the unseemly words which were cast out between them, and which ought rather to have been suppressed and kept a secret. The other story was concerning the war which the Emperor was then threatening against the Protestants, which the birds probably heard from some of the generals that had conferences in the house. These things did they repeat in the night after twelve o'clock, when there was a deep silence. But in the day time, for the most part, they were silent, and seemed to do nothing but meditate and revolve with themselves upon what the guests conferred together, as they sat at table, or in their walks.""

"Such is the sagacity ascribed to the nightingale!" is the serious comment upon this racy recital of a "correspondent" by Monsieur De Buffon, the unparalleled natural philosopher of the seventeenth century. But there are other traits of this original humorist equally flavorous, and in which, happily, there is no officious "correspondent" interposed to share the honors with him.

He tells with a grave facetiousness, as one among other marvellous capabilities of the Raven, that it" could be taught to sing like a man ;" and a specially notable individual" had been heard to sing the Black Joke with great distinctness, truth and HUMOR!!" An interesting bird was that,

"The grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and humorous bird of yore !"

A yet more funny story he tells about the GIGANTIC CRANE of Africa-on opening which, "a land tortoise ten inches long, and a large black cat were found entire in its stomach." It would have added to the interest of this fact, if there had also been a small live alligator. We regret the deficiency, as we have long wished to find anything that can equal the gulletal capacity of the true Mississippi

Boatman.

This story, by the waytortoise," "black cat," and all-is deliberately repeated by the felicitous joker, that Joe Miller of naturalists, who compiled the article on Ornithology in the British Encyclopedia. Another of Buffon's facetiæ, is the yet rarer whim, which seems to have possessed him, of converting the "Coot," properly denominated by himself "a well-known bird," into an experienced and skillful navigator. He says:

"It there makes a nest of such weeds as the stream supplies, and lays them among the reeds floating on the surface, and rising and falling with the water. The reeds among which it is built, keep it fast; so that it is seldom washed into the middle of the stream. But if this happens, which is sometimes the case, the bird sits in her nest, like a mariner in his boat, and steers, with her legs, her cargo into the nearest harbor; there, having attained her port, she continues to sit in great tranquillity, regardless of the impetuosity of the current; and, though the water penetrates her nest, she hatches her eggs in that wet condition."

Undoubtedly, we have here the original, from which was derived the idea, not simply of Noah's Ark, but of all other Arks, Broad Horns, Flat Bottoms, or Bottoms of any plane or curve whatsoever, in which men, since time began, have gone down to the sea." Who, supposing such a mortal to exist, that had never in all his days seen or heard of a ship or boat, could fail to realize the practicability of such easy modes of

progression, should he, by any accident, chance upon this wonderful "Coot," mounted upon her nest, with legs stuck through behind for rudders, steering her cargo into the nearest harbor." He would unquestionably go to work, and forthwith a new Argo would be seen "steering for unknown isles," in search of the " Chimera," "Golden Fleece;" or, it may be, what are as likely to be found, birds' eggs, that would hatch in that wet condition."

In view of these pleasant absurdities, the question almost irresistibly suggests itself, whether the great Buffon had ever, by any miraculous contingency, in the whole course of his life, seen breathing bodily in the flesh a dozen specimens of these feathered animals," as he is so fond of calling them, of which he discourses thus humorously.

One cannot avoid puzzling over the problem, whether, if with his stately gait and flowing robes, he had ever found himself wandering over the fields, he would not have been sadly bewildered to distinguish a live Field-Mouse from the live Tit-Mouse, running before him amongst the stubble. But the serious truth is, that though in the aggregate of M. Buffon's varied and extensive works, he has accomplished a vast deal for general science, in simplifying and popularising its dry details, yet, to the particular department of Ornithology, and, indeed, that also of Zoology may be included, he has done quite as much evil as good, to speak with reason; for, if he has clothed its delineations in a more attractive and universal style, and, therefore, increased the number of students; he has, on the other hand, by such reckless and unpardonable carelessness, as we have noticed above, in the collocation of his materials, not only done more than any body else toward perpetuating the errors of old writers, by stamping them with the broad seal of his own fame-but has himself originally and deliberately, added immensely to the stock. But this is not all the mischief.-By this loose and fanciful treatment-the sheer and

palpable ignorance, which he exhibited, of the vitality of his subjects—a frivolous and superficial spirit has been imparted to the conduct of the whole round of such investigations since. This whole vapid and finical tribe of "cabinet naturalists," is to be fathered upon Buffon. It was perfectly well-known that he scarcely ever saw a live wild bird or beast in his life, and boastingly accounted for his fame in the exclamation, Have I not sat at my desk for fifty years?" And his imitators, not possessed of anything of his undoubted genius, supposed that they, too, could scribble themselves into learned Doctorates, Fellowships, and Degrees, through subjects with which they possessed no fraction of practical acquaintance. How was it possible for a pedantic dandy, professedly unable to tell at sight a goosander from a gosshawk, or a chipsquirrel from a wren, to write or pencil any thing other than nonsense or some lusus naturæ, when he gravely sits down to furnish drawings, and describe the minutiae of habitudes and characteristics peculiar to each,

when to accomplish this, he had so far as could be perceived, no earthly materials but a certain free and easy aptitude at guess-work, and certain ponderous folios at his elbow filled with the guesses in colors, and guesses in type, of others second-sighted seers like himself. How, unless by special inspiration, was he to conjecture when these "authorities" were in the neighborhood of truth. If one of them should happen to make the “ Gigantic Crane” of Africa swallow a boa constrictor alive, instead of merely "a large black cat entire," what could he say "anent " so probable a statement. Disputing precedents is dangerous-and down goes the boa, all its huge and knotted volume swallowed up in the profound of his ignorance. Or if he should meet with a straggling account of a " White Crow". having been seen in America, what should prevent him from basing upon this fact the theory of a "white species common to this country! Certainly not the possession