more than justice, to have his merits fully acknowledged. In the second letter, Mr. Waterton insinuates that Mr. Audubon did not write his Biography of Birds; but he will not pretend to deny that the facts on which the value of the work solely rests were ascertained and furnished by Mr. Audubon. One fact of great importance is most uncandidly overlooked. Mr. Audubon is the son of French parents: he was educated in France until the age of seventeen; at that time he could not speak the English language. It cannot, therefore, be the least disparagement to Mr. Audubon, if, when he had a valuable work to publish in English, he should wish to receive the assistance and correction of a native. Mrs. Audubon, his wife, is a lady of distinguished merit, and possesses great intellectual cultivation and mental power. She is descended from a highly respectable English family, and is well qualified to correct her husband's manuscripts, except, perhaps, in those parts relating to technical classification. With respect to the "gentleman" who, Mr. Waterton informs us, was to have written Mr. Audubon's history of birds, "but the agreement fell to the ground on account of Mr. Audubon insisting that his own name should be given to the work," I cannot but suspect there must be some mistake in Mr. Waterton's account; because I should hope there are not many gentlemen who would expect Mr. Audubon to be so unmindful of what was due to his own reputation as to suffer a hired writer to arrogate to himself the honour of his, Mr. Audubon's, labours or discoveries; and I hope, also, that few gentlemen would desire to appropriate to themselves the approbation which Mr. Audubon's arduous labours were fully entitled to receive. Without making any comparison between the merits of Mr. Waterton and Mr. Audubon as writers or travellers, I cannot but remark that in some things they present a remarkable contrast. Mr. Waterton travelled from his own rich plantations in Demerara, surrounded with his slaves and attendants. Mr. Audubon was a solitary wanderer in the forests of America, often dependent on his gun for support. While Mr. Audubon is exposed to dangers and privations, and looks forward to the patronage of the public for his sole support and reward, Mr. Waterton is tranquilly seated in a magnificent English mansion, surrounded by paternal acres, and endeavouring to deprive the solitary wanderer of that patronage, the expectation of which is the only hope that can cheer his labours. "Look upon this picture and on this." To some of your readers it may be gratifying to learn that Mr. Audubon is now on the coast of Labrador, observing the nidification and habits of the winged inhabitants of those northern regions. He has, I believe, made some important discoveries. In a letter I received last week from New York, I am informed that he intends to return to England in October. It is with much reluctance that I have undertaken to write upon a subject foreign to my own pursuits. Indeed, the fate of some of your correspondents ought to be a general warning to all. It is much safer to put the foot into a hornet's nest, than provoke a swarm of naturalists. I could not, however, see what appeared to me great injustice done to a highly meritorious character, without endeavouring to repel it. I am, Sir, yours, &c.-R. B. Hampstead, June io. 1833. 10. The Wandering Albatross (Diomedèa éxulans L., p. 148.) "Had this albatross been a sea-gull, the above [lines by Coleridge, p. 147, 148.] might have been fact as well as fancy;" and not less so, it may be remarked, if it be presumed that Coleridge actually speaks of the albatross itself. This bird is one of the Láridæ, or gull tribe; and, as our correspondent Mr. Main has in person remarked to us, "every voyager round the Cape of Good Hope may have observed it to follow' and 'fly round' the passing vessel from day to day." He added, "This large bird seems to subsist on any animal matter which floats on the water. In their following of ships, they are easily caught by a strong hook baited with a bit of pork or beef. Their body appears emaciated, being small in proportion to the size of their plumage; as the wings, when extended, measure 9 or 10 ft. from tip to tip. They appear to be very stupid birds, perhaps from being broken-hearted from the paucity of food they meet with 800 miles from the nearest land." Dr. Arnott, as quoted by Mr. Rennie, remarks, “How powerful must be the wing muscles of birds which sustain themselves in the sky for many hours! The great albatross, with wings extended 14 ft. or more, is seen, in the stormy solitudes of the Southern Ocean, accompanying ships for whole days, without ever resting on the waves." Mr. Main, whom apprehension of exceeding the truth always leads to speak within bounds, gives above the spread of the wings at 9 or 10 ft.;" Dr. Arnott, as appears by Mr. Rennie's quotation, at "14 ft. or more;" while the specimen in the Zoological Society's Museum, in Bruton Street, and we have seen this specimen, is set down in the Society's Catalogue, where a picture of it is given, at the following dimensions:-" Length from tip of bill to extremity of tail, 3 ft. 4 in.; expansion of wings, 9 ft." The mean of these three statements of the spread of the wings of the albatross, is 10 ft. 10 in.; and although true, without doubt, is the proverb "Mcdio tutissimus ibis" (the middle course is the safest), we care less about the precise dimensions than to show that the expansion is on all hands admitted to be great. This great expansion of wings, and that wonderful provision in the physiology of birds, by which they are enabled to charge and fill every bone in their body with rarefied air, to promote and secure, as by a series of balloons, their buoyancy; and, together with the comparative smallness, and therefore lightness, of the body of the albatross, in part prepare us to give credence to a supposition entertained by some, that this bird sleeps while on the wing, and the great distance from any land at which it is frequently seen towards the close of day farther favours the supposition. This power of sleeping in the air has been alluded to by Thomas Moore, in his beautiful Eastern poem of Lalla Rookh, where, describing a rocky mountain beetling awfully o'er the Sea of Oman, he says, "While on its peak, that braved the sky, A ruin'd temple tower'd, so high This elegant quotation was kindly pointed out to us by S. T. P., whose lucid remarks have so often enriched our pages. The albatross is doubtless spoken of in the following facts told us by a sailor friend, now dead and gone: "A very large bird sometimes alights upon the yards of vessels passing the coast of the Cape of Good Hope; and no sooner is it upon the yards than it is asleep, and, while sleeping, is very easily captured. When upon the deck, it cannot soar into the air, on account of the length of its wings. It makes a loud and disagreeable noise when molested. It is called the booby' by the crew." The term "booby" is, we have since been told, commonly applied by sailors to any long-winged bird of a whitish colour; although, in the above case of the albatross, the term would seem to express its incautious or booby-like habit of going to sleep within reach of molestation; a habit which those who scout the idea of the bird's sleeping in the air will impute to the desperateness of its necessity. With the considerations on the wing-muscles of birds, which the above remarks may induce, it may not be irrelevant to couple those which E. S. offers (Vol. IV. p. 436.) on the powers of flight of "Sphinx A'tropos," and other insects "met with at sea," at from 20 to a 100 miles from land. J. D. G. W's Notices on Butterflies, &c. (p. 198-202.) — Sir, The title prefixed to G. W.'s communication (p. 198.), namely, "Notes on butterflies, and other natural objects," &c., somewhat disappointed me, as but little is there said about butterflies, and that little of no great interest or importance. By "the veined white butterfly" (p. 199.) is, no doubt, meant the green-veined white (Póntia nàpi). As there is another and quite different insect, Pieris cratæ `gi, which has been distinguished by the English appellation of "blackveined white," the simple term "veined white" may apply to one as well as to the other, and so may mislead the inexperienced. The Cuckoo's singing at Night. (Vol. IV. p. 147. 466., Vol. VI. p. 199.) G. W. is not quite correct in saying (p. 199.) that the cuckoo sings by day only. It was after sunset when I heard the bird for the first time this season; and during the first week in May I heard him singing after dusk, between eight and nine in the evening. This is no unusual circumstance. I recollect once hearing him before daylight in the morning. [See a notice on this subject incidentally given by Mr. Clarke, p. 291, note *.] [Zyga na filipendula.] Under the date May 25. (p. 201.), your correspondent says, "Although I picked up several cocoons and caterpillars of the six-spot burnet moth (Zyga`na filipéndulæ), I did not meet with an imago." It was not likely he should, as the season for the winged insect was not arrived. [Familiarities effected with Butterflies, &c., by Mr. Lukis. (p. 222.)] I have seen enough of the familiar habits of Vanéssa Atalánta to corroborate, in some degree, Mr. Lukis's interesting communication on that subject, in p. 222., though certainly I never witnessed such decided instances of the insect's "friendly intercourse with man," as are there stated. Gonépteryx rhámni will often permit itself to be taken up with the thumb and fingers, while it sits with closed wings on the blossom of a thistle, &c., and is busily employed in extracting the juices of the flower. The purple emperor (Apatùra I`ris) is, from his habits, almost beyond the ordinary reach of the entomologist. "He invariably fixes his throne" (observes Mr. Haworth, Lepidoptera Britannica, p. 19.) "upon the summit of a lofty oak, from the utmost sprigs of which, on sunny days, he performs his aerial excursions," &c. but this accurate observer goes on to remark, “when the purple emperor is within reach, no fly is more easily taken, for he is so very bold and fearless that he will not move from his settling place until you quite push him off; you may even tip the ends of his wings, and be suffered to strike again." I once took a specimen of Apatùra I`ris in the Isle of Wight, as it sat on the top of some low oak copsewood, with no better entomological apparatus than my hat. [Notes in relation to Mr. Conway's Communication on Butterflies, p. 224-228.] Mr. Conway (p. 224.) doubts whether Gonépteryx rhámni be double-brooded or not. Certain it is we have the insect twice in the year, viz., in the early spring, and again towards the end of July and August; but whether the vernal specimens are such as have survived the winter in the winged state, or have burst from the chrysalis in the spring, is a point on which entomologists seem to be not quite agreed. The same gentleman asks, also, whether all the early ones are females? I answer, decidedly not. The earliest example I ever saw was a male, and many of that sex I have observed this (and usually do, every) spring. Mr. Conway's remarks on the deeper tinge of that portion of the under side of the primary wings which is usually covered with the lower wings, when the insect is at rest, are ingenious and plausible enough: but the theory, I apprehend, will not hold good; because, in perfectly fresh specimens, the portion of the wings alluded to is found also to be of a brighter yellow than the remainder of the same surface, and in the female specimens the corresponding portion is likewise of a purer white. In p. 224. Còlias Edùsa is called the "clouded sulphur." The English name of C. Edùsa is "clouded yellow, or orange." "Clouded sulphur" is the proper English name of C. Europòme, a very rare insect, which has been admitted into the British catalogue on rather doubtful authority. (See Vol. V. p. 333. note †.) Póntia "ràpi," p. 224., is, doubtless, a mere misprint for P. "nàpi." Melitæ a Dictýnna, pearl-bordered likeness, is enumerated in Mr. Conway's list; and he says he has "always found it in a bog at a considerable elevation on the mountain side.” (p.225.) |