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THE ROOKS AND ROOKERIES OF LONDON.
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from my window in the Temple that looks upon a grove where they have made a colony in the midst of the city. At the commencement of spring the Rookery, which during the continuance of winter seemed to have been deserted or only guarded by about five or six, like old soldiers in a garrison, now begins to be once more frequented; and in a short time all the bustle and hurry of business is fairly commenced; where these numbers resided during the winter is not easy to guess, perhaps in the trees and hedgerows to be nearer their food. In spring, however, they cultivate their native trees; and in the places where they were themselves hatched they prepare to propagate a future progeny."
The birds whose habits are thus so graphically described must have been in the height of happiness, and in the bustle of their business, when poor Goldsmith was on his deathbed, and their voices may have been his funeral requiem when he was placed in his grave in the Temple burial-ground, on the evening of Saturday, April 9th, 1774, almost overshadowed by those elm trees —
"Where the Bat circled, and the Rooks reposed,
Their wars suspended and their councils closed."
Twenty-five years ago the Rookery in College Gardens, Doctor's Commons, still existed. Hone, writing of it in April, 1826, in his 'Every Day Book' (vol. i., p. 494), has the following anecdote concerning it: —
"Amongst the deliramenta of the learned, which have amused mankind, the following instance merits a particular rank. Some years ago there were several large elm trees in the College Garden behind the Ecclesiastical Court, Doctor's Commons, in which a number of Rooks had taken up their abode, forming in appearance a sort of convocation of aerial ecclesiastics. A young gentleman who lodged in an attic, and was their close neighbour, frequently entertained himself with thinning this covey of black game by means of a crossbow. On the opposite side lived a curious old civilian, who, observing from his study that the Rooks often dropped senseless from their perch, or as it may be said, without using a figure, 'hopp'd the twig,' making no sign, nor any sign being made to his vision to account for the phenomenon, set his wits to work to consider the cause. It was probably during a profitless time of peace, and the doctor, having plentv of leisure, weighed the matter over and over, till he was at length fully satisfied that he had made a great ornithological discovery, that its promulgation would give wings to his fame, and that he was fated, by means of these Rooks, to say, 'volito vivus per ora verum.' His goosequill and foolscap were quickly in requisition, and he actually wrote a treatise stating circum-
