THE CURCULIO. 55 



subjects of general admiration. The diseases of the vine and fruit, and some of the 

 insect enemies, will be spoken of hereafter. 



While here, we visited the Doctor's Plum trees planted round an artificial pond. 

 They stand at an angle of about 45, and so close to the edge of the bank that the 

 greater part of the branches are over the water, so that when the fruit comes to 

 maturity on these trees a boat will be necessary to gather the greater part of it. 

 In a very careful examination of those trees having fruit on at this time, we found it 

 badly punctured by the Curculio. On the plums high up on the trees, and especially 

 on those branches leaning furthest over the water, it was impossible to see whether the 

 crescent mark was there or not ; but wherever near enough to be examined, we could 

 see no difference between those plums hanging over the water and those over the 

 land. They were just as badly marked with the punctures of the Curculio as were 

 the plums on some trees at. the neighboring station of Croton ; just as badly stung as 

 in Newark and other places I have visited this year on purpose to see the extent of 

 the ravages of the Curculio. Gentlemen who have often seen these trees other years, 

 have told me that they have always had a similar experience. 



Dr. Underbill, like others, has had crops of plums, and these crops have probably 

 been ascribed to the circumstance that they grew over water; and he believes that 

 the merit of the plan is attributable to the sagacity or instinct of the insect : That she 

 must not deposit her eggs in fruit so situated that it will fall into water. To carry out this 

 theory, it would be necessary for the Curculio to know that the plums in which she 

 deposits her eggs will fall from that tree ; that if they fall into the water, the grubs 

 they contain -will perish ; that if they fall on land they will be safe. The question 

 here arises Has the Curculio such instincts, or such sagacity ? 



In this world of wonders in which' we live, there is nothing so wonderful as the 

 instincts of insects. The impulses that control their actions are strangely perfect. 

 They are no more likely to go wrong than a machine. We do not know what 

 instinct is. We cannot define it. No matter how we put words together, they will 

 give no adequate idea of what this blind impulse is. We cannot weigh, measure, 

 see, or feel what is called gravity. But it is that something that keeps the universe in 

 order ; that something, in the ordering of the Almighty, that prevents one world from 

 jostling another, and creation from falling into confusion. 



Who can understand how the Cicada septendecim, after passing nearly seventeen 



