What do you think?
Rate this book
The Bird by Jules Michelet :
How the Author was led to the Study of Nature.
To my faithful friend, the Public, who has listened to me for so long a period without disfavour, I owe a confession of the peculiar circumstances which, while not leading me altogether astray from history, have induced me to devote myself to the natural sciences.
The book which I now publish may be described as the offspring of the domestic circle and the home fireside. It is from our hours of rest, our afternoon conversations, our winter readings, our summer gossips, that this book, if it be a book, has been gradually evolved.
Two studious persons, naturally reunited after a day's toil, put together their gleanings, and refreshed their hearts by this closing evening feast.
Am I saying that we have had no other assistance? To make such a statement would be unjust, ungrateful. The domesticated swallows which lodged under our roof mingled in our conversation. The homely robin, fluttering around me, interjected his tender notes, and sometimes the nightingale suspended it by her solemn music.
The burden of the time, life, labour, the violent fluctuations of our era, the dispersion of a world of intelligence in which we lived, and to which nothing has succeeded, weighed heavily upon me. The arduous toils of history found occasional relaxation in friendly instruction. These pauses, however, are only periods of silence. Where shall we seek repose or moral invigoration, if not of nature?
The mighty eighteenth century, which included a thousand years of struggle, rested at its setting on the amiable and consoling, though scientifically feeble book of Bernardin de St. Pierre.[1] It ended with that pathetic speech of Ramond's: "So many irreparable losses lamented in the bosom of nature!"
We, whatever we had lost, asked of solitude something more than tears, something more than the dittany[2] which softens wounded hearts. We sought in it a panacea for continual progress, a draught from inexhaustible fountains, a new strength, and—wings.
This work, whatever its character, possesses at least the distinction of having entered upon life under the usual conditions of existence. It results from the intimate communion of two souls; and is in all things itself uniform and harmonious because the offspring of two different principles.
Of the two souls to which it owes its existence, one was the more powerfully attracted to natural studies by the fact that, in a certain sense, it had been born among them, and had ever preserved their fragrance and sweet savour. The other was so much the more strongly impelled towards them because it had always been separated by circumstances, and detained in the rugged ways of human history.
HOW THE AUTHOR WAS LED TO THE STUDY OF NATURE,
PART FIRST.
THE EGG,
THE POLE—AQUATIC BIRDS,
THE WING,
THE FIRST FLUTTERINGS OF THE WING,
TRIUMPH OF THE WING—THE FRIGATE BIRD,
THE SHORES—DECAY OF CERTAIN SPECIES,
THE HERONRIES OF AMERICA—WILSON, THE ORNITHOLOGIST,
THE COMBAT—THE TROPICAL REGIONS,
PURIFICATION,
DEATH—BIRDS OF PREY (THE RAPTORES),
PART SECOND.
THE LIGHT—THE NIGHT,
STORM AND WINTER—MIGRATIONS,
MIGRATIONS, Continued—THE SWALLOW,
HARMONIES OF THE TEMPERATE ZONE,
THE BIRD AS THE LABOURER OF MAN,
LABOUR—THE WOODPECKER,
THE SONG,
THE NEST—ARCHITECTURE OF BIRDS,
THE COMMUNITIES OF BIRDS—ESSAYS AT A REPUBLIC,
EDUCATION,
THE NIGHTINGALE—ART AND THE INFINITE,
THE NIGHTINGALE, Continued,
CONCLUSION,
ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES,
To my faithful friend, the Public, who has listened to me for so long a period without disfavour, I owe a confession of the peculiar circumstances which, while not leading me altogether astray from history, have induced me to devote myself to the natural sciences.
The book which I now publish may be described as the offspring of the domestic circle and the home fireside. It is from our hours of rest, our afternoon conversations, our winter readings, our summer gossips, that this book, if it be a book, has been gradually evolved.
Two studious persons, naturally reunited after a day's toil, put together their gleanings, and refreshed their hearts by this closing evening feast.
Am I saying that we have had no other assistance? To make such a statement would be unjust, ungrateful. The domesticated swallows which lodged under our roof mingled in our conversation. The homely robin, fluttering around me, interjected his tender notes, and sometimes the nightingale suspended it by her solemn music.
The burden of the time, life, labour, the violent fluctuations of our era, the dispersion of a world of intelligence in which we lived, and to which nothing has succeeded, weighed heavily upon me. The arduous toils of history found occasional relaxation in friendly instruction. These pauses, however, are only periods of silence. Where shall we seek repose or moral invigoration, if not of nature?
The mighty eighteenth century, which included a thousand years of struggle, rested at its setting on the amiable and consoling, though scientifically feeble book of Bernardin de St. Pierre.[1] It ended with that pathetic speech of Ramond's: "So many irreparable losses lamented in the bosom of nature!"
We, whatever we had lost, asked of solitude something more than tears, something more than the dittany[2] which softens wounded hearts. We sought in it a panacea for continual progress, a draught from inexhaustible fountains, a new strength, and—wings.
This work, whatever its character, possesses at least the distinction of having entered upon life under the usual conditions of existence. It results from the intimate communion of two souls; and is in all things itself uniform and harmonious because the offspring of two different principles.
Of the two souls to which it owes its existence, one was the more powerfully attracted to natural studies by the fact that, in a certain sense, it had been born among them, and had ever preserved their fragrance and sweet savour. The other was so much the more strongly impelled towards them because it had always been separated by circumstances, and detained in the rugged ways of human history.
HOW THE AUTHOR WAS LED TO THE STUDY OF NATURE,
PART FIRST.
THE EGG,
THE POLE—AQUATIC BIRDS,
THE WING,
THE FIRST FLUTTERINGS OF THE WING,
TRIUMPH OF THE WING—THE FRIGATE BIRD,
THE SHORES—DECAY OF CERTAIN SPECIES,
THE HERONRIES OF AMERICA—WILSON, THE ORNITHOLOGIST,
THE COMBAT—THE TROPICAL REGIONS,
PURIFICATION,
DEATH—BIRDS OF PREY (THE RAPTORES),
PART SECOND.
THE LIGHT—THE NIGHT,
STORM AND WINTER—MIGRATIONS,
MIGRATIONS, Continued—THE SWALLOW,
HARMONIES OF THE TEMPERATE ZONE,
THE BIRD AS THE LABOURER OF MAN,
LABOUR—THE WOODPECKER,
THE SONG,
THE NEST—ARCHITECTURE OF BIRDS,
THE COMMUNITIES OF BIRDS—ESSAYS AT A REPUBLIC,
EDUCATION,
THE NIGHTINGALE—ART AND THE INFINITE,
THE NIGHTINGALE, Continued,
CONCLUSION,
ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES,
328 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 1856
3 people are currently reading
46 people want to read
About the author
Jules Michelet
1,136 books101 followersHis father was a master printer, not very prosperous, and Jules assisted him in the actual work of the press. A place was offered him in the imperial printing office, but his father was able to send him to the famous Collège or Lycée Charlemagne, where he distinguished himself. He passed the university examination in 1821, and was soon appointed to a professorship of history in the Collège Rollin.
Soon after this, in 1824, he married. This was one of the most favourable periods ever for scholars and men of letters in France, and Michelet had powerful patrons in Abel-François Villemain and Victor Cousin, among others. Although he was an ardent politician (having from his childhood embraced republicanism and a peculiar variety of romantic free-thought), he was above all a man of letters and an inquirer into the history of the past. His earliest works were school textbooks. Between 1825 and 1827 he produced diverse sketches, chronological tables, etc, of modern history. His précis of the subject, published in 1827, is a sound and careful book, far better than anything that had appeared before it, and written in a sober yet interesting style. In the same year he was appointed maître de conferences at the École normale supérieure. Four years later, in 1831, the Introduction à l'histoire universelle showed a very different style, exhibiting the idiosyncrasy and literary power of the writer to greater advantage, but also displaying, in the words of the Encyclopedia Britannica, Eleventh Edition, "the peculiar visionary qualities which made Michelet the most stimulating, but the most untrustworthy (not in facts, which he never consciously falsifies, but in suggestion) of all historians."
Soon after this, in 1824, he married. This was one of the most favourable periods ever for scholars and men of letters in France, and Michelet had powerful patrons in Abel-François Villemain and Victor Cousin, among others. Although he was an ardent politician (having from his childhood embraced republicanism and a peculiar variety of romantic free-thought), he was above all a man of letters and an inquirer into the history of the past. His earliest works were school textbooks. Between 1825 and 1827 he produced diverse sketches, chronological tables, etc, of modern history. His précis of the subject, published in 1827, is a sound and careful book, far better than anything that had appeared before it, and written in a sober yet interesting style. In the same year he was appointed maître de conferences at the École normale supérieure. Four years later, in 1831, the Introduction à l'histoire universelle showed a very different style, exhibiting the idiosyncrasy and literary power of the writer to greater advantage, but also displaying, in the words of the Encyclopedia Britannica, Eleventh Edition, "the peculiar visionary qualities which made Michelet the most stimulating, but the most untrustworthy (not in facts, which he never consciously falsifies, but in suggestion) of all historians."
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 of 1 review
January 26, 2011
"Man, bird, all nature, utter the same desire", Michelet says, and that's more or less this book encapsulated in one sentence. As I understand it, The Bird is a sort of side project -- a distraction -- to the other, heavier work the author was doing concurrently into the history of France. Buried in old documents, the names of conquerors, and a past mostly remembered by its wars and inequalities, Michelet must have begun to wonder why it is that humans can't live as peacefully and harmoniously as birds and other animals do. Of course, there's a good deal of impossible idealism, sweeping generalization and contradiction involved here, especially as regards Michelet's peculiar opinions on the superiority of even Europe's nature over that of the rest of the world. Ultimately I agree with his conclusions (humans should be the stewards rather than the tyrants of the environment) but I find the routes he takes to those conclusions in many cases suspicious and even offensive. The book isn't badly written so much as it's a product of its time, I guess -- the kind of book you'd find in a charming faded leather cover at an antiques shop and think I'd never want to read this, but wouldn't it look distinguished on my coffee table? (Note: You can read the whole book for free at Google Books.)
Displaying 1 of 1 review