34 MIDLAND ENTOMOLOGY. 
societies, and I think it will not be very difficult, after a little closer 
examination, to show that there are sufficient reasons for the preference. 
Some of these are undoubtedly beyond our power to obviate, but there 
are others that, to some extent, admit of being practically dealt with. 
The superficial but general idea “that insects are unworthy of 
notice because they are so common and insignificant, and that the study 
of flies and beetles is consequently too childish an occupation for any but 
schoolboys,” is not deserving of the troukle of refutation, although it 
must be admitted that it has often hada deterrent effect ; for few persons 
are so thoroughly case-hardened that they can persistently withstand the 
shafts of ridicule—the ridicule, moreover, of their friends. 
That Entomologists should be subjected to derision is neither 
wonderful nor singular; every specialist must expect to receive his share. 
It is as inseparable from those peculiar people who will deviate from the 
beaten track as shadow is from substance. I think it should be considered 
complimentary rather than derogatory, and that instead of shrinking from 
it we ought to welcome it as indicating, in proportion to its intensity, the 
importance of our special pursuit, and the strength of our moral courage. 
The real difficulties are of a more serious nature, two or three of 
which may be discussed. First there is the vastness of the subject. It is no 
joke to face our myriad insect tribes and their myriads of Latin 
and Latinish names. Bruin amongst the bees, and the proverbial 
hornet’s nest, are as nothing to it. Who, unless moved by an 
enthusiasm that blinds to contingencies, would dare to begin 
the attack? The immense number of our species of insects is 
in itself enough to stagger any ordinary tyro; but the classification 
and nomenclature by which they are fenced about form a perfect chevaux 
de frise before which the boldest quails. We cannot, of course, alter this 
state of things. Additions will continue to be made to the number of 
our known insects, and the anomalies of nomenclature and classification, 
the natural outgrowth (an excrescence if you will) of the science, will 
certainly not diminish as new workers appear. The best way of avoiding 
this difficulty is not to see it. The would-be Entomologist must not think 
of the number of insects to be known, and must resolutely shut his eyes 
upon the musty mass of synonymy. His course will then be easy, and 
his progress rapid. He will begin with a single insect, a separate genus, 
or a distinct order, and, as his interest is excited, and his knowledge 
extended, the obstacles he feared at the outset will fade away, becoming 
small by degrees and beautifully less. 
Having advanced thus far, the student would be none the worse for 
a little encouragement from the Society of which he happened to be a 
member. I offer it as a suggestion whether our Societies might not be 
of much use in developing original research by offering to publish mono- 
graphs of obscure genera, descriptions of new and little known species, or 
any other similar work, the result of independent observations. Special 
subjects, beginning with insects hurtful or beneficial to man, might be 
recommended for study, and original memoirs invited; these could be 
examined by a competent Committee, and the best selected for publication. 
Se 
