THE BARN OWL. lo 



pen of Sir William Jardine. Still, however, me- 

 thinks that it ought to be taken in a somewhat 

 diluted state; we know full well that most extra- 

 ordinary examples of splendid talent do, from time 

 to time, make their appearance on the world's 

 wide stage. Thus, Franklin brought down fire from 

 the skies: "Eripuit fulmen coelo, sceptrumque 

 tyrannis." Paganini has led all London captive, 

 by a single piece of twisted catgut: " Tu potes 

 reges comitesque stultos ducere." Leibnitz tells 

 us of a dog in Germany that could pronounce 

 distinctly thirty words. Goldsmith informs us that 

 he once heard a raven whistle the tune of the 

 " Shamrock," with great distinctness, truth, and 

 humour. With these splendid examples before our 

 eyes, may we not be inclined to suppose that the 

 barn owl which Sir William shot, in the absolute 

 act of hooting, .nay nave been a gifted bird, of 

 superior parts and knowledge (una de multis, as 

 Horace said of Miss Danaus), endowed, perhaps, 

 from its early days with the faculty of hooting, 

 or else skilled in the art by having been taught 

 it by its neighbour, the tawny owl? I beg to 

 remark, that though I unhesitatingly grant the 

 faculty of hooting to this one particular individual 

 owl, still I flatly refuse to believe that hooting is 

 common to barn owls in general. Ovid, in his 

 sixth book Fastorum, pointedly says that it 

 screeched in his day : 



" Est illis strigibus nomen ; scd nominis hujus 

 Causa, quod horrenda stridere nocte solent" 



