ON THE HABITS OF THE BRAKE NIGHTINGALE. 395 



nor does it occur in any part of North Wales. The limit of its 

 western range is Somersetshire, beyond which it has never been 

 met with. The reason of this is by no means well explained, 

 and indeed it would seem to be perfectly arbitrary, as some of 

 the counties which are not favoured by its melody are remarkable 

 for balminess of climate and softness of air; its favourite food 

 and the thick tangled underwood and rank luxurious vegetation, 

 to which it is so partial, are also at least as plentiful in these 

 parts as in the counties to which it chiefly resorts ; nor can it be 

 the coldness of the climate in the northern counties that prevents 

 its visiting these, as it is found in much more northern latitudes 

 in other countries. It seems, however, generally to prefer inland 

 districts to those which are on the coast. Leaving this point as 

 one of those mysteries of Nature which it is beyond the power 

 of man to unravel, let us now proceed to consider those parts of 

 our songster's economy which are better understood. 



A small wood near Foston Hall, abounding with underwood 

 and vegetation of a rich and luxurious growth, has, for several 

 years past, been a favourite spot with a pair of Nightingales, 

 which there find a safe asylum in a thick clump of firs, situate 

 on a rising ground ; the surrounding parts are somewhat damp 

 and marshy, which is also favourable for this bird of night. The 

 spot is, in short, perfectly adapted for a pair — and probably not 

 more — of Nightingales, and, indeed, I know of no place so well 

 suited for this bird many miles round ; except, perhaps, a small 

 clump of firs near Doveridge Hall, the seat of Lord Waterpark, 

 which was visited by a pair of these birds a few years ago : they 

 were, however, soon caught and caged by a neighbouring bird- 

 catcher, and died from the want of that food to which they had 

 so long been accustomed — the fate of by far the greater number 

 of Nightingales that are caught in the course of the year. 

 Almost every one must have heard and admired the song of the 

 Nightingale; I will, however, attempt to describe it for the 

 benefit of those who have not yet enjoyed that treat. The 

 strains are loud, rich, mellow, silvery, and clear, and so far 

 from being a miserabile carmen, as sung by Virgil in the lines 

 above quoted, I know few songs which are its equal in 

 sprightliness and vivacity, with the exception, however, of one 

 part, consisting of three or four lengthened notes, beginning very 

 piano, and gradually rising to crescendo and forte, which are 

 certainly of a peculiarly melancholy character. The song of 

 this bird does not equal that of the Yellow-bill Thrush (Turdus 

 merula), nor the Garden Thrush (Turdus musicus) in mellowness 

 and loudness, but it certainly excels all others as a whole — at least 

 all other British birds, for Audubon says it is quite absurd to 

 think of comparing the song of the Nightingale to that of Orpheus 

 poly glottus {^wsiins.) (Ornithological Biography, Vol. I. p. 113.) 

 In my opinion there is only one drawback upon the song of the 

 Nightingale, and that is, the unconnectedness of the strains. 



July, 1835. — VOL. ii. no. xii. 3 f 



