Shakspeare has various other passages of much the same tenor, and so have many other poets of the English and other languages; but, as we can say truly with Cowper (in Task): “The jay, the pie, and e’en the boding owl, That hails the rising moon, have charms for _us_,” we have no intention at all of making out a strong case of bad reputation against him, even from the poets. We ought to say, though, that he has borne this reputation much more recently than the time of Pliny, and in some countries of the old world has scarcely yet attained a character of entire respectability. There might be a difficulty, however, in deciding which is the more remarkable, the things said of him, or the gravity of the sayer. A writer, cited in Brand’s Popular Antiquities, says to the point: “In the year 1542, at Herbipolis or Wirtzburg, in Franconia, this unlucky bird by his screeching songs affrighted the citizens a long time together, and immediately followed a great plague, war, and other calamities. About twenty years ago, I did observe that in the house where I lodged, an Owl groaning in the window presaged the death of two eminent persons who died there shortly after.” Another, bringing the matter to a more general bearing, says: “If an owl, which is reckoned a most abominable and unlucky bird, send forth its hoarse and dismal voice, it is an omen of the approach of something: that some dire calamity and some great misfortune is near at hand.” And amongst many similar stories, it is related by an old author, that when a Duke of Cleves was suffering with the disease of which he afterwards died, an Owl was seen and heard frequently upon the palace of Cleves in the day-time, and could scarcely be driven away. Very wonderful, but not calculated for the present meridian, and happily rather out of date generally. It would scarcely suit the citizens of our frontier States to regard in any such aspect the nightly serenades of the Great Horned Owl, though performed in a style entirely appropriate. Other nations, and some more ancient than the Romans, also regarded the Owl with various degrees of superstition. In Egypt, at one period, an image of an Owl transmitted by the supreme authority to a subject, was an intimation in established form, that the latter would particularly oblige his sovereign by immediately committing suicide. With which civil invitation, compliance, at earliest convenience, appears to have been necessary, not entirely as a matter of mere politeness, but to save himself from aspersions as a man of honor and a gentleman. An instance is related by Diodorus Siculus, in which a person placed in such a dilemma and manifesting some repugnance and uncourtly backwardness, was put to death by one of his parents to save their house from disgrace.