Page:The Zoologist, 1st series, vol 1 (1843).djvu/269

Rh years ago I communicated to Professor Macgillivray, and which he has thought worthy of record in his admirable work on British birds. Perhaps I may be permitted to do so in nearly the words I then used.

"The nightingales arrived in Calder wood, in Mid Lothian, in the early part of the summer of 1826—a remarkably warm season. I cannot remember so far back, but creditable eye and ear witnesses, among whom I may mention my father, the Rev. Dr. Duncan, gave me the information. Before and about midnight, while the full moon shone bright and clear, the superior warble of the male was first heard, which soon attracted a number of admiring individuals, who hastened to the spot, supposing it at first to be an escaped canary. The owner of the wood was extremely anxious to preserve them, thinking that perhaps they might propagate; but with all his care and attention, some malicious and selfish individuals attempted to take them with bird-lime, but failing in their efforts, they afterwards shot the male, upon which the female left the wood."

The Meadow Pipit generally commences its song in the middle of April. On the 24th of March, 1841, however, my delight and astonishment were equally great on hearing it begin. I thought I heard its ascending note; and on looking round, true to the signal, there was the little flutterer, hovering in the air above the moor, about to commence its musical descent. This bird is only known here by the provincial name of moss-cheeper.

The Swallow.—The enthusiastic panegyric by Mr Hepburn on the author of the 'Natural History of Selborne' (Zool. 146), gave me the highest pleasure. Indeed the very mention of the name—'Gilbert White,' must fill the heart of every naturalist with delightful emotions. For my own part, I regard his little work with feelings akin to religious veneration. Well do I recollect the day when my father put it into my hands. The heavens were bright and the earth was beautiful; and as I wandered through the woods, perusing its pages—anon listening to the songs of the birds, or pulling a fragrant flower—I felt as if I had changed my state of being, and entered another world.—From that time the study of Nature has been with me a favourite pursuit. Taught by experience, I am always inclined, when a person professes a desire to become a naturalist, to bid him read the 'Natural History of Selborne.' If it interests and fascinates him, well; if not, he may bid an eternal adieu to the study of the beauties of Na-