THE NIGHTINGALE. 343 



The poets are as much at variance with the senti- 

 ment of this summer-evening song as they are with the 

 sex of the bird that produces it. The full songs of all 

 birds are given by the males, though the female in 

 many, and in the nightingale, among others, has a few 

 notes. But the note of the female is always soft and 

 murmuring, and heard at a very limited distance com- 

 pared with that of her mate. As for a sentimental song 

 of woe, there is no such in nature. The cries of pain 

 and uneasiness in the animals are all short and harsh, 

 and occasioned by something that is immediate, with- 

 out being in any way affected by the former day or 

 even the former hour. The songs are always what we 

 would call songs of joy, even when, as in the case of 

 the turtle and wood pigeon, they are in the most plain- 

 tive key. Generally speaking, too, the birds that sing, 

 pair only for the season ; and though some of those 

 that form more permanent attachments, murmur or coo 

 in the season of love, they do not sing, as in the cases 

 of the eagle, the raven, and magpie. Generally, too, 

 the birds that migrate, and those that nestle in thick 

 covers, are the most melodious singers, while those 

 that frequent open wilds have the loudest calls or 

 whistles. We are not acquainted with the way in 

 which these melodies of the male birds act upon the 

 females ; but it is evident that they are intended to 

 bring together those that are concealed from each 

 other by the depth of groves or the expanse of the wil- 

 derness. Nothing could be better adapted for the pur- 

 pose ; and the notes are so varied that there is no 

 chance of mistake. And yet there is nothing of what 

 we call choice or freedom of election in this curious 



