THE NIGHT. 
173 
sun, and at evening faithfully congregate to watch it setting on our 
Scottish shores. Towards evening, 
the heath-cock, that he may sce 
it longer, stands on tiptoe and 
balances himself on the branch of 
the tallest willow.” 
Light, love, and song, have for 
them but one meaning. If you 
would have the captive nightingale 
sing when it is not the season of 
his loves, cover up his cage, then 
suddenly let in the light upon hin, 
and he recovers his voice. The 
unfortunate chaftinch, blinded by 
barbarous hands, sings with a 
despairing and sickly animation, 
creating for himself the light of 
harmony with his voice, becoming a 
sun unto himself in his internal fire. 
I would willingly believe that 
this is the chief inspiration of the 
bird’s song in our gloomy climates, 
where the sun appears only in vivid 
flashes. In comparison with those 
brilliant zones where he never quits 
the horizon, our countries, veiled 
in mist and cloud, but glowing at 
intervals, have exactly the effect of 
the cage, first covered, and then 
exposed, of the imprisoned night- 
ingale. They provoke the strain, 
and, like light, awaken bursts of 
harmony. 
Even the bird’s flight is influenced by 
it. 
Flight depends on the 
