REVIEWS. 85 



much study as the chorus of a Greek play to make out what it means. 

 Take, for instance, Keble's "Christian Year/' which has gone through some 

 thirty or forty editions, for no imaginable reason that I can possibly think 

 of but that the general idea was happy and the title well chosen; for 

 though some of the poems are, I willingly admit, very beautiful, "Sun of 

 my Soul," for instance, yet as to many or most of them, I defy any 

 human being to read them straight through and tell you the meaning as 

 he goes along. 



I have sincere pleasure in heartily recommending this work to all families 

 who read "The Naturalist." It is the very book for a present, of an inex- 

 pensive kind, to a friend. 



The Natural History Review. ATo. VII. July, 1855. London: Highley. 

 Edinburgh: Johnstone and Hunter. Dublin: Hodges and Smith. 



I have received several numbers of this useful work together, and among 

 them the one named above, which, as may be seen, I have already noticed 

 in vol. vi. of "The Naturalist." It is my intention to review one of the 

 quarterly parts each month, and thus a more continued and larger notoriety 

 may be gained for the work. I have, I say, already passed under review 

 the part before us, but as it has again been inadvertently forwarded with 

 the others to me for the purpose, in aniraum venit to begin de novo, for 

 the following reason. The said Part contains a review of my "History 

 of Biutish Butterflies," and though I before thought that I would not 

 remark upon one or two strictures which the editor had added to quite 

 as much commendation as, in my opinion, the book deserves, yet as they 

 really seem to me to be incorrect, and my having a "Review," as herein, 

 of my own, gives me an opportunity, not often possessed by authors, of 

 replying to what they do not agree with in any criticisms on their works, 

 I enter the lists on the "Diamond-cut-diamond" principle. 



And first let me premise that though having, as hereinbefore said, a 

 strong antipathy to and profound contempt for the "Editorial 'We,'" (the 

 most potent newspaper "Leading article," that frightens those who are childish 

 enough to be "frightened out of their propriety" by such, being the simple 

 effusion of the goose-quill of a paid John Wilcocks or Thomas Jones,) I 

 desire my readers will not let this be understood as animadverting on the 

 editor of the "Natural History Review," who is an able writer well up 

 to the mark. 



First, then, to be brief, I "take exception" to what the writer says 

 as follows, in his strictures on my having admitted Vanessa Hampstediensis 

 into my "British Butterflies," namely, that it "has no claim to be 

 esteemed British, having been introduced into the lists by a mere accidental 



