THE SEASONS. 5 



in him, and it is only when it meets with obstacles and over- 

 comes them, that we appreciate the full force of any strong 

 current. Besides, this sameungenial temperature, which often 

 comes suddenly after a week of pleasant balmy weather, 

 enables the Entomologist to cultivate a cheerful disposition ; 

 like Mark Tapley, he can then show whether he has the 

 capability of being "jolly" under aggravating circumstances ; 

 it is quite absurd to say you can cultivate cheerfulness when 

 everything goes smoothly — it is when things will perversely 

 go wrong, that one's philosophy gets put to the test. 



Moreover, the Entomologist must be sharp indeed, if he 

 has not put off some of the winter's work to the last, and 

 probably he finds, as the labours of the spring season begin 

 to press upon him, several matters of importance had been 

 overlooked in the winter, but which yet it will be desirable 

 to get completed before the summer sets in, in full earnest. 

 But, alas ! how few have the foresight and industry to get 

 all their work ready beforehand. 



Autumn, though it has less to be distinctively said of it 

 than the previous seasons, cannot be passed altogether un- 

 noticed. Long ago we remember we used to slacken our 

 Entomological energies towards the close of the season, and 

 used to pass unheeded in October moths, which we should 

 have eagerly chased in March ; as it was with us then, per- 

 haps it now is with many of our readers. At the close of 

 the day one gets lazy and indisposed to work, at the close of 

 summer a like feeling of drowsiness overtakes the incipient 

 Entomologist. Of course we can understand that what with 

 " Intelligencers," " Naturalists," " Substitutes" and " Zoolo- 

 gists," it is less easy to drop off quietly to slumber than it 

 was in our juvenile days, when such things were unknown. 

 Yet autumn is a prolific time for many things, and those 



