RECORD: Wilson, E. 1863. The little bird. The Times (7 October): 11-12. CUL-DAR72.1. Edited by John van Wyhe (Darwin Online, http://darwin-online.org.uk/)

REVISION HISTORY: Transcribed by Christine Chua and edited by John van Wyhe 3.2020. RN2

NOTE: See record in the Darwin Online manuscript catalogue, enter its Identifier here. Reproduced with permission of the Syndics of Cambridge University Library and William Huxley Darwin. A snippet of a letter written by a reader, Edward Wilson, to the editor of The Times.


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[in Darwin's hand:] The Times Oct 7th, 1863

The Times Oct 7th, 1863 [in Darwin's hand]

THE LITTLE BIRD.

TO THE EDITOR OF THE TIMES.

Sir,─ There is something that strikes one as very fine in the ægis of The Times being thrown over the little bird. Too often in the whirl of great national matters such subjects as these are passed over unheeded and as unworthy of notice, while the moth breeds, the beetle bores, the aphis multiplies, and at last the gardener or agriculturist looks on agast at ravages that he can neither explain nor do anything to check.

There are still two or three points in the discussion which are worth attention, and have not been allude to.

It is plain enough to us all that birds like fruit, and that their consumption of this delicacy often assumes very annoying forms. They may do something to repay us, but if their inroads are very exacting we feel aggrieved at most distinctly perceptible losses not compensated for by larger gains equally perceptible. Here, however, the mere gardener must listen to the naturalist. A gain may be of most value, although quite invisible to our eye. The little detective may be busy among a million thieves and we be little the wiser, till, in an evil day, we lose his services, and the thieves forthwith have it all their own way.

But one point which I wish to urge is this. Florent Prevost implores us to spare the little bird, principally in the interest of the larger crops, cereals, and forest trees. Fruit is a very agreeable thing, but it partakes rather of the character of a luxury than that of an absolute necessary of life. Bread is an absolute necessary, and so probably is timber. Thus, if the bird were to take all our fruit and at the same time save us all our root crops, cereals, and timber the balance would be largely in his favour.

But it is not necessary that he should be allowed to take all, or even an unfair share of our cherries, pears, and peaches. Netting is cheap, and, properly prepared, lasts a long time. The espalier system, or the dwarf double of pruning, keeps the tree in a manageable shape and form. If you will allow your trees to struggle into semi-wildness the little bird may be excused if he thinks that it is something prepared for him, and if he proceeds to treat the fruit accordingly.

Let me now, however, suggest a consideration of which my own personal experience has taught me the importance I desire that the little bird should have justice – nothing more. His cause is injured by over-enthusiasm in his advocates. It will, then, have been perceived throughout this controversy that there has been a remarkable discrepancy in the statements of the relative destructiveness of birds in different localities. One gentleman has lost all his fruit; another has a garden swarming with birds, all yet their ravages have been insignificant. I wish, then, to show the comparative education of birds in destructive habits; and here my opportunities of observation enable me to say something very much to the purpose.

In Australia, where we are just as eager for birds as your sparrow-killers are to destroy them, it is very interesting to notice the effects of the introduction of new delicacies in the shape of garden and orchard produce among the native birds, and to watch the promptitude or the reverse with which they set about availing themselves of any agreeable things now for the first time presented to their notice. Usually they have shown themselves slow in finding out our peaches, figs, and grapes; but now in many districts, they are beginning to be very troublesome, and I lately read a paper from Dr. Lindeman (a most successful vine-grower on the Hunter's River), in which he points to new and very serious inroads of this kind; and, in alluding to the flying fox in particular (a most disgusting bat there abounding), he stated that if some mode of checking its attacks were not discovered he should begin to despair of vine-growing on the Hunter. In fact, we here see that the wild animals are getting educated in bad habits and are beginning to be troublesome.

Upon one occasion I formed a garden in the bush. There was no other enclosure of the kind for miles in any direction. The gardens of the neighbouring settlers were beset by a very troublesome rascal, the satin or bower bird, and they warned me that if I once allowed him to make a lodgment I should never get rid of him again. For a long time I was free; but one day I found that he had paid me a visit, and had signalized his arrival as usual by pulling up, in his restless, fussy way, every single thing in the whole gar1len that he could tug out of the ground, even to the little sticks set to mark the site of seeds. I got my gun and shot two or three. The flock went off, and I never saw another bird of the kind. This was education of another sort.

Again, in another locality I had a vineyard full of as beautiful grapes as I ever saw. Adjoining it was the establishment of the village slaughterman, haunted as usual by the all-pervading carrion crow of the colony (a very peculiar bird, of which I wish that space allowed me to give you a few particulars). As my grapes ripened my men told me that the crows had found them out, and that if something were not done not a grape would be left. This seemed quite true, and it really was distressing to see the havoc they were making both in eating them and in waste. I gave my men a gun, the materials for a scarecrow or two of ferocious aspect, and told them as they shot any of the thieves to hang them on high sticks above the vines. Not ten crows were shot when they found out their mistake, came to the conclusion to limit themselves to the offal of the slaughterman, and I am finally of belief that not a crow

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has ever settled in that vineyard since. I used to watch them sailing down side along my fences, and almost imagined that I heard them discussing the mysterious dangers they had found to lurk among my smiling vines. It seems, then, to me that the degrees of education of birds in destructive habits are almost infinite, and that it is quite possible that in some neighbourhoods they may have been gradually so habituated to prey upon garden produce as greatly to influence the balance of their good and evil deeds. It seems quite possible that it may even be expedient, where this state of things is very apparent, to destroy the birds pretty closely that have become too learned in gooseberries and cherries, and allow the neighbourhood to be stocked up again from less sophisticated districts. Indiscriminate slaughter is an ignorant barbarism; but do not let us, in the interest of our little favourites, run into the opposite extreme, and advocate in all conceivable circumstances indiscriminate protection.

The case of the little bird is strong enough, if stated fairly. Do not let us weaken it by allowing the decision of the judge to be tinctured by the enthusiasm of the partisan.

I am, Sir, your obedient servant,

Reform Club, Oct. 5. EDWARD WILSON.


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