180 ZONES OF FIRE. 
less beautiful, follow in its train; and ever and ever more the glorious 
host, in floating azure, follows the current of the stream. 
Such, then, are the tongues of Love; for the boundless rainbow of 
all these colours is simply its varied expression. And for what pur- 
pose, if love itself ought to appear without an intermediary ? 
Already, in our colder lands, the timid glow-worm, motionless under 
the hedgerow, suffers its little lamp to shine and guide through the 
night the lover to his love. 
In Italy it moves to and fro, and its flame has acquired wings. I 
was much struck by it, at the hot springs of Acqui, in Piedmont, 
where sulphur everywhere prevails; the wild dance of the tiny lights 
seemed stimulated by the fires lurking in the entrails of the earth. In 
Brazil the very leaves overflow with phosphorus. How should aught 
be wanting for the illumination of the bridal-joy of the insect? That 
marvel, under the tropics, glitters everywhere and enchants everything. 
Two hundred species are known, which Nature has gifted with the 
poetic faculty of breathing forth flame, and charming their great festival 
with the poesy of light. 
A graceful German lady, Mademoiselle Mérian, having been trans- 
planted to these zones of fire, has related in naive language the alarm 
which she experienced on seeing their insect wonders. The daughter 
and grand-daughter of excellent and laborious engravers, herself an 
artist and of well-informed mind, she has produced, in Latin, Dutch, and 
French, an admirable and picturesque work on the Insects of Surinam. 
The learned lady, in an exemplary life of misfortunes and virtues, had 
but one weakness (who has not one ?)—the love of Nature. She quitted 
Germany for Holland, attracted by its unique and brilliant collections 
of the treasures of the two worlds. Then, as these did not suffice her, 
she visited Guiana, where she painted for several years. She combined 
in the same picture,—an excellent method,—the insect, the plant on 
which it lives, and the reptile which lives on the insect. Thoroughly 
conscientious, she sought out and posed her formidable models, of which, 
nevertheless, she was much afraid. Once, when the Indian savages had 
brought her a basket of insects, she was sleeping after her work. But 
in her chaste slumber she was disturbed by a strange dream. She 
