that independent of any observation the
submergence of birds in a living state was not a
possible thing. Still, if any properly and duly
authenticated case, which, when rigorously
examined, proves to be out of the reach of fallacy,
should occur, then by the laws of just evidence
must theory fall like ice before the sun.

Let us, therefore, briefly examine the
circumstantial account given by a credible witness,
and corroborated by a second. Is it possible
that it can be without foundation? Imperfect
observation, arising from a want of special
information upon the subject observed, has
perpetuated many an error, and retarded many a
truth. Let us only recal the circumstantial
account of an eye-witness, given us by the good
old Gerarde, in his Herbal, with regard to the
origin of Barnacle geese: "But what our eyes
have seene, and what our hands have touched,
we shall declare." And after this solemn
preamble, he goes on to tell how, in an island in
Lancashire, are found cast up the trunks and
bodies of old rotten trees, whereon is found a
certain spume or froth, that in time breedeth
unto certain shells, wherein is a lump which in
time cometh to the shape and form of a bird,
which, after it cometh to full maturity, falls
into the sea, where it gathereth feathers and
groweth to a fowl bigger than a mallard, and
lesser than a goose! which the people of Lanca-
shire call by no other name than tree-goose.
And he ends his account by asseverating:
"For the truth hereof, if any doubt, may it
please them to repaire unto me, and I shall
satisfie them by the testimonie of good
witnesses." Great names might be brought
forward in support of this portent even, for Saxo
Grammaticus, Scaliger, Torquemada, Olaus
Magnus, and others, no less than Gerarde, were
profound believers in this tree origin of Barnacle
geese, and in order that there may be no
mistake, the Herbal contains a woodcut of the
tree with the geese falling from it, and some of
them already swimming about in safety beneath.

Returning now to the swallows, and bearing
in mind that the fair disputant disclaims any
special knowledge of natural history, let us
hear her further. She next goes on to say
triumphantly, "I can give you the exact day
indeed; it was the 6th of September." Now,
here she has proved too much in her anxiety to
support the credit of her statement. In the
Swedish Calendar of Alexander Berger, kept at
Upsal, in latitude sixty degrees, it is not
pretended that the swallow goes under water until
September 17th. Why should English swallows
take to their water-bed eleven days sooner than
their brethren six and a half degrees further
north? Indeed, it is well known to ornithologists
that the swallow does not leave us until
the beginning of October. Jenyns, from twelve
years' observations, deduces a mean of October
14th—the earliest date being September 28th.

It is not difficult to offer an explanation of
this and other stories of the kind which are
prevalent among certain classes in this country,
and which are widely spread and deeply rooted
among the common people of Sweden. The
University of Upsala has long offered large
rewards for the discovery of submerged birds,
but, notwithstanding the prevalent belief, they
have never been claimed. That swallows dip
in the water in their rapid flight is certain, and
it is said, upon the authority of Mr. Couch, that
they are capable of resting for a few seconds
with outstretched wings upon the still surface
of the water, and then flying off again. Let us
suppose now that it is late on an autumnal
afternoon; the shades of evening are gathering
round, and the active birds are skimming the
surface of a quiet pool or river, crossing and
re-crossing, interweaving and intertwining in the
mazes of their rapid flight. Under the most
favourable circumstances, it is difficult to trace
the course of any particular bird. But if dusk
imperceptibly steals over such a scene, how
easy would it be for an observer to imagine
that the birds, when they dipped or rested
themselves upon the water, really submerged
themselves. It would be next to impossible to
recognise these birds among the rest upon
resuming their flight, while, as they retired by
degrees to their roosting-places for the night,
the gradual diminution of their numbers would
most readily confirm the impression that those
birds which were in reality only momentarily
lost to view, had sunk beneath the protective
bosom of the still, deceitful pool.

A modification of the submergence fancy,
but which was an improvement upon it, inasmuch
as it did not at once drown the birds, has
for that reason received wider credence, as
being more in analogy with recognised phenomena.
This was the idea: that migrating birds,
during their absence from us in winter, went
into hiding after the fashion of hibernating
quadrupeds. This fancy is at least as old as the
days of Aristotle, who tells us that "many
birds, and not a few, as some imagine, hide
themselves in holes," and he enumerates the
swallow, kite, thrush, starling, owl, crane,
turtle, blackbird, and lark, as undoubtedly thus
disposing of themselves. Pliny also infers that
kites lie concealed in holes for some months.
Nor has the doctrine of hibernation been without
support from more modern naturalists.
Schœffer, Hevelius, Derham, Ellis, Daines
Barrington, Pennant, Gilbert White, and the
Swedish naturalists, Kleni and Kalm, may be
mentioned as all more or less in favour of their
hiding rather than migrating. White, an
excellent specimen of a philosophic observer,
mentions that the sight, early in April, of some
sand-martins playing in and out, and hanging
before some nest-holes in a sand-hill, gave him
great reason to suppose that they do not leave
their wild haunts at all, but are secreted amidst
the clefts and caverns of those abrupt cliffs
where they usually spend their summers; for,
since the previous weather of that year (1793)
had been very severe, he thought it not very
probable that they should have migrated so
early from a tropical region, through all the
cutting winds and pinching frosts. But, he adds,