to exercise proprietorship over its own more peculiar domain. In one
instance, related by Mr. J. D. Salmon, of Thetford, in the ' N a t u r a l i s t/
old series, volume ii, page 52, they have been known to breed in
confinement, namely, ul Norwich, in the year 1838. The female laid
five eggs, which were all hatched; and though the male died, the
female did not relax her cares, but successfully reared three young.
The late Bishop Stanley relates the following account of one which
was reared from the nest in the spring of 1835:—'It soon became
tame, and was kept in a cage till May, 1837, singing always in the
winter from Christmas till April, and shewing no symptoms of impatience
at the usual period of migration; it was silent the rest of
the year. Last May it was permitted to go out of its cage, which
was hung up, open, at the door of the offices. At first it returned
regularly in the evening to its cage, and was taken in, and released
again the next morning. As the season advanced, it sometimes stayed
out all night in the shrubberies and pleasure-grounds, but if called
by any of the servants, whose voice it knew, would return and feed
out of their hand. Tor a day or two, towards the close of summer,
it seemed rather uneasy, but this soon wore off. As the evenings
got cool, in the autumn, it returned to its cage before nightfall, and
was taken as usual into the house; as the season still further advanced,
it was to be permanently housed, and was expected to sing again at
Christmas.'
He also mentions a remarkable instance of their removing their
eggs, under peculiar circumstances, as communicated to the French
Academy of Sciences by M. Merveaux.—A pair of these birds had
built their nest in his garden in the lowTcr part of a hedge, containing
four eggs, when some water in the neighbourhood rose with such
impetuosity as to inundate the garden. He watched them with some
anxiety, and one day when the water had reached to within six paces
of the nest, he only perceived two eggs. He at first thought that the
nest had been abandoned; but coming to it very soon after, he only
saw one, and this time he waited to see the result, and was much
astonished to see the last egg disappear with the birds, who, flying
cautiously, but rapidly, carried it to a new nest, at the highest part
of the hedge, where he saw all the four eggs deposited in safety,
and where they were afterwards hatched.
I t s flight is swift, light, smooth, and even, though not extended far.
On the ground it stands very erect. When alighting on a branch the
wings arc slightly shaken or quivered.
It takes its prey just in the same way that the Thrush does, flying
to the ground, hopping quickly along in search of any, then suddenly
seizing it, and after a sidelong glance returning to its post, often the
very spot from which it had descended. It also searches for insects
along the branches and under leaves. It is fond of the eggs of
ants, and of the larvae of wasps, hornets, and bees. The young are
said to be fed wdth caterpillars.
I t is a fancy of Virllot, and the idea, though fanciful, is a pretty
one, that the Nightingale loves a neighbourhood where there is an
echo, as if aware of and admiring its own music. Certainly the echo
of such sounds, for most beautiful they are, are well worth listening
to, and the softened strain may be mistaken by the enamoured bird
for the answering note of his partner, and so may have a heightened
enchantment to his ear.
The name of Nightingale is derived, as Pennant remarks, from the
word night, and the Saxon word galan—to sing; and 'oft in the stilly
night,' when you are far away from every worldly association, and
there is nothing but the voice of the Nightingale to break the 'charmed
air' and the repose in which all nature is hushed, your soul may well
be raised to happy and holy CONTEMPLATION, and you will be able to
enter into the spirit of the Old Hundredth 1'sabn, and 'Praise GOD
from whom all blessings flow.'
When the young are hatched the song ceases in great measure,
though it is in fact continued in some degree to within a few days of
their departure. They do not sing on their very first arrival; it is not
till the females have come that the serenade begins; then * Buona notte,
Buona notte, amato bene' is the nightly strain for about a fortnight,
until the arrival of a family busies it too much with sublunary cares.
If the female be accidentally destroyed, the male then resumes his
song until he finds another partner, which, curious to say, as in the
case of other species, he generally meets with, but where or how is
'passing strange.' A warning note is excited by the approach of danger,
or a snapping of the bill uttered against it, and a short ' t a c k , ' heard
also at other times. The Nightingale begins its morning song from
half-past three to four o'clock. Sometimes, indeed, especially if the
moon be shining, it sings throughout the night, and its song, attended
however by its peculiar objurgatory note, instead of being checked,
is only excited the more by any casual disturbance. The sound of
music or other noise will arouse their attention, and at times their
rivalry. An anecdote is on record of one which entered into competition
with the instrument of a performer, and fell at his feet exhausted with
the struggle to outvie him. Fliny, too, says ' They emulate one another,
and the contention is plainly an animated one. The conquered often
ends its life, its spirit failing sooner than its song.' It has been known
to imitate the human voice.