THE BARN-OWL. cas-u-al...purposeless, accidental varieties de-signed' ......marked out, intended in'-tim-ate......close, very near a-quat-ic......of or belonging to the water ve-lo'-ci-ty......rapidity, swift rise in air or water un-a-wares' .not expected de'-pred-a-tors plunderers ....robbers, .narrow minded belief, arising from ignorance, fear, or bigotry bodes. ....threatens, promises The plumage of the feathered race, although one of those parts of nature ever present to the eye of the most casual observer, is seldom regarded with the attention which, from its intrinsic interest, it deserves. From the slender hair-like feathers of the cassowary, or the wavy plumes of the ostrich, to the rigid quills of the sickle-winged humming-birds, there are infinite grades and varia tions; and these differences are not-as many are too apt unmeaningly to call them-mere freaks of nature, void of intent and purpose, but, on the contrary, beautiful provisions, designed by the great Creator for a certain definite end in intimate connection with the habits and manners f the species. Hence the bird whose structure prevents its mounting aloft, and confines it to the desert, where it 66 scorns the steed and its rider," the bird whose habits are entirely aquatic, and the tenant of the air, whose wing cleaves the blue sky with the velocity of an arrow, are all characterised by a distinct and opposite style of plumage, which could not be altered without producing a corresponding change in the nature of its possessor. If we look at a bird expressly formed for rapid flight, we see that its feathers. are close and rigid, often with a burnished or metal-like surface, its wings long and pointed, the quill-feathers having acute abrupt edges, and strong elastic shafts, and its tail broad or forked, and equally elastic. Such is the plumage of the humming-bird. A bird formed for inhabiting the water has its plumage close and downy, the outer feathers being varnished with an oily fluid, which makes them waterproof, while the under form a thick wadding of down to keep the body warm: such is the plumage of the swan or eider-duck. But we have chosen the common barn-owl as a topic in illustration of our remarks, because, although a bird with which most are familiar, few are aware of the connection of its plumage with its modes of life, and we wish to show how much there is of nature to study while walking down our own fields or standing at our own doors. The owl is a hunter by night, and its prey are among the best endowed of animals in the sense of hearing or perceiving the approach of an enemy, against which, from the timidity of their nature, they seem ever on the watch. Various species of field-mice, which frequent banks or meadows, and the common mouse of our barns and houses, are the food of this bird. No one can have witnessed the flight of the owl, as it skims round the farm-yard, along the lane, or down the hedge-row, without noticing that it is peculiarly buoyant and noiseless, very different from the whistling rush of the fleet-winged pigeon, or the whirring of the pheasant. The reason is evident: it is thus enabled to steal, as it were, upon its victims, and seize them unawares; and so great is the destruction it makes among these little depredators of the corn-rick and barn, as to recommend itself to the protection of the farmer, who, from very ignorant superstition, is often its greatest enemy. That its presence bodes him no ill, he may be well assured; nor may he rest less secure that, whatever destroys his broods of young poultry, it is not the "mousing owl;" so far from it, that it is a fact that the owl has been known to breed in a tenanted pigeon-loft, without even alarming a single pigeon, while it kept the place free from rats, mice, and weasels. THE BARN-OWL.-PART II. In the first place, Our next step is to see how the plumage of the owl is fashioned, so as to enable it to winnow the air with silent wing, and fulfil its design in creation. then, its general plumage is full, loose, and delicately soft, offering no resistance, and no sharp or rigid edges to the air, but yielding to every breath; such also is the character of the quill-feathers, which, from their deficiency in strength and elasticity, are incapable of being struck against the air with that impetuous violence which produces a rushing sound in the flight of so many species. Yet the flight of the owl is not slow; for, to compensate for this deficiency, the wings are of great extent, and by their gentle fanning the bird is not only capable of making considerable progress, but of wheeling round, or dropping down like a plummet on his victims. In the second place, as if to make assurance doubly sure against the least possibility of sound being occasioned by the edge of the wing in passing through the air, the first quillfeather is singularly modified. Its outer edge, instead of being plain as in most other birds, is fringed with a finely pectinated or comb-like line of short lashes, the terminations of the plumelets which compose the vane; hence the air, so to speak, is not cut abruptly with an unyielding keen-edged instrument, but with one which is peculiarly modified for the noiseless flight of this nocturnal prowler on the wing. Although our attention, according to the present light in which we view the subject, is mainly directed to the plumage of this bird, yet we cannot pass over the adaptation of its structure in other respects to its modes of life. Its hooked beak is a characteristic which it possesses in common with the rest of the "raptorial order" to which it belongs, and which at once denotes it to be a "bird of prey." The eyes, which are large, are expressly adapted for the subdued light of evening or night, and the pupils are capable of great dilatation. This dilatation of the pupil at night is also very remarkable in the cat, a quadruped of analogous habits, whose eyes are seen to glare with a prismatic sort of light-an appearance produced by means of an internal membrane, the tapedum lucidum, and not visible under their ordinary state in daylight. The eyes of the barn-owl are, however, less capable of bearing the light than those of the cat. The iris is consequently more irritable, and its powers of expansion and contraction greater. There is, therefore, an additional defence provided in this case against the painful annoyance of light, which consists of a thin semi-transparent membrane, called membrana nictitans. This the bird can draw over the eye like a curtain, or fold up at pleasure. During the day the owl rests in its retreat with its eyes half closed; if the light be strong, the membranous curtain is drawn. At night, when it sallies forth, its eyes are open, full, and round; and the membrane is withdrawn, and folded up by a peculiar mechanism at the inner edge within the socket. The ear of the owl is also extremely susceptible. The external orifice is very large, and concealed between two extensive membranous valves, from the edges of which proIceed the feathers which form the outer rim of the disc which encircles the face. The leaves of this double valve it can throw apart, so as to concentrate, as well as give entrance to, every slight vibration of the atmosphere; or, in other words, take in the faintest noise, such as the cry of a mouse, or its rustle among the straw. In the claws of this bird we also trace the same fitness. Its legs are covered with protecting downy feathers, and the toes (the outer one of which may be turned backwards at will) are armed with strong hooked talons, sharply pointed. With these weapons its grasp is very forcible and tenacious, so as, no doubt, often to deprive its victim immediately of life. Its usual mode, however, of putting an end to the struggles of its captive is by crushing in the skull with its bill—a very merciful mode of proceeding in comparison with the conduct of the cat under similar circumstances. upon The barn-owl is one of the most elegant of our British birds. It takes up its abode in hollow trees, steeples, and barns, where its hooting voice is often heard, instilling foolish fears into the heart of the schoolboy as he passes by moonlight near some village churchyard, or striking like a death-knell the peasant's ear, as at the curfew hour he "homeward plods his weary way." The ivy-clad ruins of the old abbey, the coeval yew trees, moonlight, and the owl, form an association sanctioned by nature and poetry; and one which, instead of producing superstitious fears, ought rather to lead the mind to solemn contemplations and reflections upon Him whose word shall outlive the proudest monuments of man, the return of night and day, or "the great globe itself." In the ancient days of Greece and Rome this bird was emblematical of wisdom, and consecrated to Minerva; and truly nothing carries an air of such sombre gravity as the common owl. THE INFAMY OF SLAVERY. LORD BROUGHAM. Tell me not of rights! Talk not of the property of the planter in his slaves! I deny his right-I acknowledge not the property. The principles, the feelings of our common nature, rise in rebellion against it. Be the appeal made to the understanding or the heart, the sentence is the same that |