CHAP. I. INSTINCT OF OUR CAT INSECTS. 2$ 



could have traversed before, and without any other 

 guide but instinct. Having partaken of her usual 

 breakfast from the hands of her young mistress, she 

 was seen no more that day ; next morning, however, 

 she was again at her post; and these daily journeys were 

 continued fcr more than a week. On mentioning this 

 to our friend, he stated that he always missed the cat 

 at his breakfast hour ; but that, soon after, she regu- 

 larly returned to her kitten, which remained quietly in 

 the house during the morning visits her mother paid to 

 her real home. Our cat, like all good mousers, is such 

 a thief, that, not wishing to kill it, we have frequently 

 tied it in a sack, and turned it loose at a considerable 

 distance from home ; but, somehow or other, she in- 

 variably finds her way, " through brake and through 

 briar," to Tittenhanger Green, where she now is. 



(33.) The instincts of insects are. so singular, and 

 yet so various, that a volume might be filled with this 

 subject alone. A few instances, however, in this place, 

 will be sufficient for our present purpose. The extreme 

 perfection of instinct, unquestionably, lies in this class 

 of animals. Kirby and Spence have well remarked, 

 " What bird or fish, for example, catches its prey 

 by means of nets as artfully woven, and as admirably 

 adapted to their purpose, as any 

 that ever fisherman or fowler 

 fabricated ? Yet such nets are 

 constructed by the race of 

 spiders. What beast of prey 

 thinks of digging a pitfall in 

 the track of the animals which 

 serve it for food, and at the bot- 

 tom of which it conceals itself, 

 patiently waiting until some 

 unhappy victim is precipitated 

 down the sides of its cavern ? 

 Yet this is done by the larva or 

 grub of the lion ants (Ascala- 

 phus Macleayanus Guild., fig. 6.), and of the Cicindela, 



