Birds. 1541 



generally have him described in history, is, I believe, a matter of dis- 

 pute, some asserting that the generally received account of his deformi- 

 ties is not exaggerated, and others again contending that he was, on 

 the contrary, a person of comely appearance. However this may be, 

 we are certain that no auguries could be too dismal on the birth 

 of a man, whose crimes and enormities were of so black a dye as 

 Richard's, and who truly came in the words of Shakspeare, 



" To bite the world." 



i 



The gloom and melancholy of the owl's retreat, is referred'to in ' Ti- 

 tus Andronicus,' in the description of a " barren and detested vale." 



" Here never shines the sun ; here nothing breeds, 

 Unless the nightly owl or fatal raven." 



And, of his melancholy note, Lady Macbeth thus speaks, 



" It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bellman, 

 Which gives the stern'st good night." *- 



From these gloomy habits, the superstitious dread has become at- 

 tached to it which I hope soon to see dispelled, as it is a quiet harm- 

 less bird, living almost entirely on vermin, which would ultimately 

 multiply to an excess that we should find exceedingly troublesome 

 and destructive ; and as Mr. Pemberton Bartlett well observes, " the 

 good it does abundantly counter balances its slight poaching pro- 

 pensities." 



The bird which seems properly to follow the owl here, is the 

 Raven, inasmuch as it has acquired the same character as a prognosti- 

 cate of calamity and trouble. It is nevertheless treated by the 

 prqfanum vulgus with more deference and respect, and some early 

 ornithologists tell us, that this proceeds from the circumstance of its 

 being the bird that fed the Prophet Elijah in the wilderness. Be 

 this as it may, the raven, from the most ancient times, has been re- 

 garded with feelings of respect and fear. To the Romans there can 

 be no doubt it was an object of great veneration. 



The first mention we have of this bird is in the ' Tempest,' where 

 Caliban, cursing Prospero and Miranda, says, 



" As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd 

 With raven's feather from unwholesome fen, 

 Drop on you both." 



His retreats, like those of the owl, are of a most gloomy and seques- 

 tered kind. An old tower or dismantled building is a favourite one, 



