44 THE entomologist's record. 



London Entomological Society, he suggested that this method should 

 be tried with Sesia scolicBformis, the larvcC of which are now taken in 

 fair quantities at Rannoch. As regards this species, my late friend, 

 Mr. Nicholas Cooke, twenty years ago, told me that he was convinced 

 the species was at Rannoch, as he had frequently discovered traces of 

 the larvae. I am, however, drifting into my old routine, which is not 

 my intention this evening, but rather to speak of entomology as I 

 remember it in the past — say fifty or more years ago. In doing this, I 

 propose entering into some personal reminiscences, and will commence 

 by saying that I have often thought, whilst watching your interested faces 

 in this room, attracted here by your love of entomology, what a history 

 each could give of his entomological life experience. As regards 

 myself, I cannot remember when I first became interested in insect life, 

 as from my very earliest childhood I remember the delight I took in 

 watching butterflies fly about and in breeding caterpillars. My earliest 

 recollections are associated with rearing silk-worms, and I used to 

 watch them for hours together, devouring mulberry leaves and spinning 

 cocoons. To possess a Puss Moth Caterpillar, and watch its majestic 

 movements whilst feeding, was an indescribable delight. I could not 

 have been more than seven or eight years old when I remember, day 

 after day, going down a country lane in which was always to be found 

 one or more Tiger Moths {Arctia caia) ; the delight of seeing these, and 

 bringing them home alive, keeping the poor things under a tumbler, and 

 attempting to feed them with lump sugar, etc. This in-born, if I may 

 so call it, love of lepidoptera, was greatly developed by my being sent 

 away to a boarding-school at Epping, at a very early age. Epping was 

 the home of Edward and Henry Doubleday. Henry Doubleday, 

 especially, encouraged the schoolboys in their natural history pursuits, 

 and so did our schoolmasters, Thomas Usmer and Richard Abbott. 

 Epping is situated in the middle of the Forest and a very short distance 

 from the school found us in its midst. The usual diversion of a 

 holiday or half-holiday was, about thirty lads, accompanied by their 

 masters or teachers, to go into the Forest, where we were allowed to 

 wander as we pleased, assembling together at a certain hour, at which 

 time a bugle was sounded. Now you can conceive what favourable 

 opportunities these were for collecting. Many boys made collections, 

 but two of us were special rivals. These were happy times. Butterflies 

 swarmed. I have a recollection of seeing the air quite white in a wood 

 from the profusion of Leiuophasia sinapis, and the undergrowth in the 

 summer was covered with Argy?inis euphrosyne and A. selene. I am 

 now speaking of upwards of fifty years ago. We had no entomological 

 pins, and only primitive setting boards. The usual way to kill a moth 

 or butterfly was to pinch the body under the thorax, which, as you may 

 imagine in a large moth, did not improve its condition. We sometimes 

 for this purpose used bruised laurel leaves, but this mostly only for 

 Coleoptera, etc. We had no difficulty in ascertaining the names of our 

 captures, as Mr. Doubleday would always kindly name them for us. 

 This is, however, a most undesirable method, and there is nothing like 

 studying the specimens oneself, and finding their names from written 

 descriptions. I would here take the opportunity of testifying to the 

 wonderful system of arrangement worked out in Stainton's work on 

 British lepidoptera. I only wish we had been compelled to identify 



