lowly denizen of waste places, scarcely rearing its rosy vaulted head above the level of the moss in which it grows, occurred here, together with its usual companion, the bird's-foot lotus. The small upright St. John's wort, an exquisite flower, the tiny eyebright, and the milkwort of the rich blue variety, were also among the plants we gathered here.

But now we were approaching the scene which had been the chief object of our curiosity. Near the northern extremity of the island stands a huge oblong block, like a square column, called the Constable: we pass this, and the wondrous spectacle suddenly bursts upon us. Much as our expectations may have been excited, they were in nowise disappointed; though my companions were not like myself naturalists proper, we were unanimous in declaring that the sight was more than worth the voyage, sea-sickness and all; it was a scene, the witnessing of which must always stand out prominently in memory, as one of the remarkable things of which an ordinary life can reckon but few.

We turn the corner of a pile of rocks, and we stand in the midst of myriads of birds. We are on an inclined plane, extending, perhaps, halfa-mile down to the sea-cliffs, composed of numberless hillocks of red earth, on which lie, heaped irregularly, and partially imbedded in the soil, great boulders of the granite rock. On these, on the hillocks, and in the hollows between, sit the birds, indifferent to our presence, until within two or three yards of them, when they turn the large liquid eye towards us, as if demanding the meaning of the unwonted intrusion. If we avoid sudden motion, we may approach still closer; but generally at about this degree of proximity the little group congregated on the particular stone or hillock leap up, spread their short feeble wings, and fly with a rapid laborious beating of the air, out to seaward. The flight is painfully feeble at first, but presently gathers strength and becomes more forcible, though always fluttering.

The great congregation of birds begins just hereabouts; the cover of fern to the southward, which we have been skirting, is not suitable to their habits; but it extends as far as the eye can reach, and is not then bounded, but spreads on around the north extremity of the island, far down on the western side.

The air, too, is filled with them like a cloud. Thousands and ten thousands are flying round in a vast circle or orbit, the breadth of which reaches from about where we stand to half-a-mile seaward. They reminded me strongly, with their little wings stretched at right angles to their bodies, painted in black against the sky, of the representations we see in astronomical works of the fixed stars arranged in the Ptolemaic system in a crowded circle around the sun and planets. If you attend only to those near you, they seem to rush on in one direction in an unceasing stream; and you wonder what can be the purpose, and what the terminus of the universal migration; but when your eye has followed them a little, you perceive the circular movement, that the same birds pass before you again and again, as they come round in their turn, like the movers in a theatrical procession, that cross the stage and pass round behind the scenes to swell the array again.

But the earth and the air are not the only spheres occupied by these birds; look down on the sea; its shining face is strewn, as far as you can discern anything, with minute black specks, associated in flocks or groups; some comprising few, others countless individuals. These, too, are the birds, busily employed in fishing for the supply of their mates and young, or resting calmly on the swelling undulation.

The fearlessness manifested by those that are sitting around us, permits us to observe them at leisure. They are principally of two kinds; the smaller has a round large head, with a beak monstrously deep and high, but thin and knife-like; and as if to make this organ more conspicuous, it is painted with red, blue, and yellow. The legs and large webbed feet are orange-coloured; and these, too, are sufficiently remarkable in flight, for the bird stretches them out behind, somewhat expanded at the same time, in such a manner that they appear to support the short tail, the broad feet sticking out behind. The whole of the upper plumage is black; the face, sides of the head, and under parts, pure white, except that a black collar passes round the throat. These are known by the fishermen as sea parrots, or coulternebs; but are more generally designated in books as puffins.

The other species is larger, being nearly as big in the body as a duck, but shorter in the neck. The beak is formed on the same model, but is more lengthened; and it, as well as the feet, is black. The general proportions are more those of ordinary birds; and though the distribution of the hues of the plumage, black and white, is nearly the same as in the former species, the black covering the whole head and neck, combines, with the other differences I have mentioned, to render the discrimination of one from the other easy, even at a great distance. This is the razor-billed auk. These two species furnish the principal part of the individual birds that are congregated just here. But when we get round yonder point we shall open the haunts of several other kinds, almost as innumerable as these. It must not, however, be supposed that they keep their localities so strictly as not to intermingle in any degree. From the point where we stand, we may with a little care be able to discern individuals of all the kinds, more or less numerous. The different species of gulls, in particular, amounting to four or five, are conspicuous for their long pointed wings and elegant sailing flight. They are wary and alert; we do not see them sitting still as we approach, as the puffins and razor-bills do, but before we can get within gun-range they are on the wing. Then, as conscious of their powers, they are bold; sweeping by over our heads, with a querulous scream; now and then swooping down and making as if they would dash at our faces, but taking care to swerve as they come close, and gliding away with the most graceful ease and freedom.

Let us examine for a moment the ground beneath our feet. We need caution in moving about, for the tussocks and mounds feel precariously hollow and spongy; now and then the foot breaks through, and the whole leg is buried in a dusty cavity that gives forth an insufferable odour of guano; then as we jump on a hillock, it totters and breaks off from its base to roll down the hill, laying bare an interior riddled with holes like a honeycomb. These hillocks themselves are nothing but enormous tufts of the common thrift or sea-lavender, so often used for edgings in cottage gardens: the plant in a succession of years assumes a dense hemispherical form, while the decay of the old leaves forms a reddish spongy earth, which constantly accumulates, and constitutes the soil on which the living plant grows.

Under the projecting shelter of one of these tussocks we found a nest of one of the gulls, the lesser black-backed species as was supposed. It was a platform made of the redleaf-bases of the thrift, dry and brittle, on which lay one young chick and one egg. The latter was larger than a hen's egg, of a dark greenish hue with black spots; it was on the point of hatching, for I distinctly heard the feeble piping of the impatient chick

within, whose beak had already begun to chip the shell. The hatched young one, a tiny creature, covered with pale-brown down, lay quite still with shut eyes, which it opened for a moment when touched, to close them again in stoical indifference.

Presently we came upon another nest, containing one young rather more advanced; its clothing of down prettily spotted with dark-brown. Then another with two eggs of a dirty white, mottled and splashed with brown, which was conjectured to belong to the glaucous gull, a powerful and handsome bird seen hovering about, of snowy-white plumage, except the back and wings, which are of a delicately-pale bluish-grey.

The whole atmosphere was redolent with the strong pungent odour of guano, which, as everybody knows, is the excrement of fish-eating birds, collected from the rocks on which they breed, where it has accumulated for ages. The same substance was splashed upon the stones and earth wherever we looked; we saw it falling through the air; our clothes were spotted as if with whitewash; and we scarcely dared to gaze upwards on the circling flocks, lest our eyes should suffer the misfortune of Tobit.

It is to the puffins that the burrows with which the soft vegetable earth is honeycombed are chiefly attributable. The whole island is indeed stocked with rabbits, and their warrens (or buries, as the local phrase is) are very numerous. The puffin does not hesitate to appropriate these whenever he can; but as there are many more birds than beasts, the former are generally compelled to excavate for themselves: this is effected by means of the powerful cutting beak, to the depth of two or three feet. At the bottom of the hole the egg is laid, never more than one. We saw several egg-shells, from which the young had been hatched; they were nearly as large as hen's eggs, of a dirty whited-brown tint, which is said to be derived from the soil, as they are purely white when first laid. We had no means of digging them out, and we did not choose to explore the burrows by thrusting in our arms; for the puffin, if at home, would have given our intrusive fingers such a welcome with his strong and sharp beak, as we might not soon have forgotten.

Mr. Heaven informed us of a curious habit in the economy of these birds. Immense numbers come to the breeding-place in April to reconnoitre the ground: they remain three or four days, then disappear so completely that not a single bird is to be seen. In about a fortnight they return for good, and set about the work of family-rearing. Then mortal combats may be witnessed; the rabbit and the puffin fight for possession; the old buck stands up in front of his hole, and strikes manfully, while the knife-beak of the dishonest bird gives him a terribly unfair advantage. Sometimes two male puffins contend; each strives to catch his adversary by the neck; and when he can accomplish it, shakes and holds him with the tenacity of a bull-dog.

Auks and guillemots likewise bear a part in the exploratory April visit; but not in such numbers as the puffins.

One of our party knocked over a puffin with a clod of earth, just to examine it. We did not wish to destroy them, and therefore abstained generally from throwing. It was stunned, and lay in our hands while we admired the thickness and closeness of its plumage, beautifully clean and satiny, especially the white parts. Presently it began to open its large dreamy grey eyes, so singularly set in scarlet eyelids: we did not wish to prove the keenness of its beak, and therefore laid it on a rock in the sun, when no doubt it soon recovered.

It must not be supposed that this was any feat of skill in the marksman. It would have been perfectly easy to have procured hundreds in the same way. Our friend assured us that he had himself knocked down six with one stone; and that he had seen twenty-seven bagged from a single shot with an ordinary fowling-piece, not reckoning many more which were knocked over, partially wounded, but which managed to fly out to sea.

We walked on a few rods further. The character of the declivity continued pretty much the same; but we had opened a point of the distant cliff which was cut into a series of rocky ledges, like a wide flight of steps leading to some magnificent building. On these were seated a dozen or twenty gannets, beautifully snow-white birds, with black tips to their wings, larger than geese. We could easily have scrambled to their rock, but our friend was reluctant to have them disturbed. This fine bird used to be numerous here; and Gannet Cove and Gannet Rock received their appellations from the hosts of these birds that used to make that neighbourhood their resort; but having been much annoyed by idle gunners from the main, they had deserted the island, it was feared finally. Lately, however, a few pairs have returned, to the gratification of the proprietor, who is desirous of their increase. In truth, they are noble and beautiful birds; their long pointed pinions enable them to wheel and glide about in the air, to soar aloft, or swoop, or float on motionless wing at pleasure with the utmost grace; while the contrast of the black wing-tips with the general whiteness of the plumage cannot fail to elicit admiration. As they sail near, we perceive that the neck and poll are tinged with buff; but this exception to the general purity of the vesture is not at all conspicuous, nor universal. Their cry is, "crak, crak, crak," uttered on the wing. The snowy purity of the mature plumage is said to be reached through several alternations of opposite hues. The young, when newly hatched, are black and quite naked: their first coat of down is white; this is succeeded by a plumage of black slightly spotted with white; and this by the spotless white investiture in which we saw them.

Another reason why the gannets should not be disturbed, while sc few as they yet are, is the bold piratical character of the larger gulls. These are ever on the watch to destroy the eggs of the gannet, the moment both the parents are flown. We had a proof of the ferocity of these predaceous birds before our eyes. As we were looking down the slope, we saw a glaucous gull emerge from a puffin's hole into which he had just crept, bringing out the little black puffin-chick. We watched the marauder shake his victim and give it repeated blows with his beak, the poor little thing now and then crawling away feebly, just as a mouseling does when half-killed by a cat. We began to run towards the spot, the gull taking no notice till we got pretty near, when he turned up his eyes and gave us a look of impudent defiance, then deliberately seized his prey in his beak, and bore it off triumphantly far out to sea. The larger gulls will sometimes swoop down upon a group of puffins sitting on the sea, and snatch up an adult from the flock in their powerful beak. Mr. Heaven has seen this done.

Our attention was here pointed to a new bird. On the lower ledges of the wide stair-like rock occupied by the gannets, sat in little crowded rows, many birds about as large as pigeons, which in form and in the colours of their plumage they much resembled. They were the kittiwake, the smallest of the gulls that can properly be called indigenous to our shores. We afterwards made closer acquaintance with the species.

The shearwater is said to breed in the rocks hereabouts; but we did not notice it, nor do I know of which species it is. Nearly at the edge of the slope we observed a stout iron rod erected, standing some ten or fifteen feet high. On inquiry we found that this, with a corresponding one at some distance, is used for the support of a long but narrow net, which is stretched along like a wall at the edge of the precipice, to intercept the puffins. These birds, when they fly, shoot down in a straight line, just sufficiently above the ground to clear the rocks and hillocks; they thus strike the net, and are caught. They are also taken in numbers by dogs, which run upon them before they have time to fly; and in other modes, chiefly for the sake of their soft and abundant feathers.

From the spot where we now stood there extended a considerable space, almost covered with the wild hyacinth, as we could see by the fruit-bearing stalks. The contrast which this large belt presented when in flower, with the thrift which occupies as exclusively the range below it, was described to us as very curious and pretty; the whole forming two parallel zones, the one of blue, the other of pink. Large beds of coarse sorrel were prominent in the vegetation here; and the crevices and bases of the rocks were fringed with the singularly-cut leaves of the buck's-horn plantain, growing in unusual luxuriance. The pungent, peppery, scurvy grass we also found very fine.

We now approached the north-west point, the very extremity of the island; no slope of earth, but a wilderness of huge castellated masses of granite, piled one on another in magnificent confusion. By scrambling between and over these, we contrived to take a perch, like so many of the tenant-birds themselves, on the very verge of the stony point, whence we could look over on each side, and gaze on the boiling sea at the foot of perpendicular precipices. In truth this was a noble sight; the point was fringed with great insular rocks, bristling up amidst the sea, of various sizes, and irregular angular shapes, partially or wholly covered by the tide at high water, though now largely exposed. There was a heavy swell on from the westward, and as it rolled in with majestic rounded undulations, each mighty wave breasted up against the rocks, like a gallant army assaulting an impregnable fortress, and, spending its fury in a wall of mingled water and foam, shot up perpendicularly to an immense elevation, as if it would scale the heights it could not overthrow. The insulated masses, all brown with their leprous coating of barnacles, received the incoming surge in an overwhelming flood, which immediately, as the spent wave receded, poured off through the hollows in a hundred beautiful jets and cascades; while in the narrow straits and passages, the rushing water boiled and whirled about in curling sheets of the purest white foam, curdling the surface, or (where this broke away) of the most delicate pale pea-green, the tint of the bubbles seen through the water as they crowded to the air from the depths where they were formed, the evidence of the unseen combat fiercely raging between earth and sea far below. The breeze, which was blowing fresh, took off the crests of the breaking seas, and bore the spray up to the height where we stood; while the foam, as it formed and accumulated, was seized by the wind in broad masses, and carried against the sides of the projecting rocks, flying hither and thither like fleeces of wool, and adhering like so much mortar to the face of the precipice, until it covered great spaces, to the height of many fathoms above the highest range of the tide. Looking over the battlemented margin of the platform on which we stood, we could see the entrance of a fine cavern, sixty feet in height, about thirty in width,