ſoft melody of tuneful Philomel! delightful are her harmonious ſtrains to chear the gloom of night, and animate the ſolitary groves!—Nothing can be more agreeable to the traveller as he ſtrolls along the darkſome glade, or purſues his way through the lonely wood!—The philoſopher and the muſician liſten with equal ardor in the ſolitary grove, to hear "the ſober-ſuited ſongſtreſs trill her lay!"—How pleaſing when all the tribes of nature, all the families of the earth are buried in ſleep; when the linnet and the goldfinch, the blackbird and thruſh, the ſoaring lark, and all the reſt of the muſical choir have dropt their notes, and are retired to their repoſe; then how pleaſing to walk by the light of the ſilver moon, and to catch the ſoft, the ſweet modulations of the nightly ſerenader!—Often at even will I range the dewy mead, and ſteal along the ſilent ſhade, to hear the trilling tale of the mournful warbler.
This inimitable ſongſtreſs is a great lover of ſolitude and night. It frequents cool and ſhady places, and is uſually ſeen in hedge-rows or low buſhes, as it delights in no high trees, except the oak. For weeks together, if undiſturbed, it will ſit upon the ſame tree, unleſs when moved to ſatisfy the calls of hunger. Shakeſpear, therefore, very properly deſcribes the nightingale ſitting nightly in the ſame place. Singing at night is a peculiarity common to the nightingale only, no other birds found in Great Britain exerting themſelves at that ſeaſon. When it pours its charming notes at this time through the ſilent vale in the lonely meadow, it is generally found perching in the thickeſt covert of ſome large tree or buſh, which it ſeldom leaves till the morning dawns. The ſame celebrated bard I mentioned before has alſo touched upon this circumſtance—
—————As the wakeful bird
Sings darkling, and in ſhadieſt covert hid,
Tunes her nocturnal note.
This admirable choiriſter, the moſt celebrated of all the feathered tribe, is a regular emigrant. It makes its appearance in our country about the middle of April, and leaves us in Auguſt. Where the nightingale and other ſmall birds of paſſage retire when they forſake this iſland, cannot with any certainty be determined. Indiſputable it is that they repair to ſome warrmer climate; and to me it ſeems probable that Spain or the ſouth of France is their winter aſylum, as they are abſolutely incapable of very diſtant flights.
I have often obſerved that the coming of the nightingale is in ſome meaſure regulated by the weather, and the ſtate of the ſeaſon. When the ſpring has proved forward, it has been ſeen here in March, and the cock has been heard to ſing at the beginning of April, eſpecially toward the evening, when the air has been ſerene. This preſent year, the ſeaſon being remarkably mild, and much forwarder than uſual, the nightingale I obſerved was here before April commenced; and indeed almoſt all the other birds of paſſage that viſit this iſland in the ſpring, were arrived by the middle of that month. On the contrary, when the ſpring comes late, and is cold and ſevere, as it ſometimes happens, the nightingale, and all our ſummer birds that annually migrate from one country to another, are retarded in their paſſage, and are never ſeen here till the vernal ſeaſon is very far advanced.
The haunts of the nightingale are chiefly thick hedges, low coppices, and buſhes, eſpecially where there are little rivulets, brooks, or ſtreams of water near them: it alſo delights in ſolitary groves, ſequeſtered meadows, ſhady places, and the moſt retired ſituations. It uſually hides itſelf in the cloſeſt buſhes under covert, and conſequently is but ſeldom ſeen. It is naturally of a ſhy diſpoſition, and is greatly intimidated at the ſight of a man, or any rapacious bird.
In a few days after their arrival in this country they begin to pair, and at this time the cock is more frequent in his ſong, in order to attract the attention of the female, and allure her to ſubmit to his embraces. in their
