"When blood is nipt, and ways be foul, Then nightly sings the staring Owl, Tu-whoo! Tu-whit! tu-whoo! _a merry note_, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot!" Titania sings of "The clamorous Owl, that nightly hoots and wonders At our quaint spirits." Bishop Hall has this "Occasional Meditation" upon the sight of an Owl in the twilight:--"What a strange melancholic life doth this creature lead; to hide her head all the day long in an ivy-bush, and at night, when all other birds are at rest, to fly abroad and vent her harsh notes. I know not why the ancients have _sacred_ this bird to wisdom, except it be for her safe closeness and singular perspicuity; that when other domestrial and airy creatures are blind, she only hath insured light to discern the least objects for her own advantage." We may here note that Linnæus, with many other naturalists and antiquaries, have supposed the Horned Owl to have been the bird of Minerva; but Blumenbach has shown, from the ancient works of Grecian art, that it was not this, but rather some smooth-headed species, probably the _Passerina_, or Little Owl. The divine has, in the above passage, overstated the melancholy of the Owl; as has also the poet, who sings:-- "From yonder ivy-mantled tower The moping Owl does to the moon complain Of such as, wandering near her secret bower, Molest her ancient solitary reign." Shakspeare more accurately terms her "the mousing Owl," for her nights are spent in barns, or in hunting and devouring sparrows in the churchyard elms. "Moping, indeed!" says a pleasing observer. "So far from this, she is a sprightly, active ranger of the night, who had as lief sit on a grave as a rose-bush; who is as valiant a hunter as Nimroud, chasing all sorts of game, from the dormouse to the hare and the young lamb, and devouring them, while her mate hoots to her from some picturesque ruin, and invites her, when supper is over, to return to him and her babes."