120 THE ENTOMOLOGIST. 
mouth, and their passage through the long, leathery 
haustellum, or promuscis, into the cesophagus and stomach, 
there to constitute the support of these flower-loving flies. I 
have before me a most interesting autobiography of this 
excellent naturalist and kind man, and from this I have made 
the following brief extract: —“ I was born at Stratford, in the 
parish of West Ham, Essex, near London, on the 11th of 
August, 1807. My parents, Moses and Elizabeth Deane, 
being members of the Society of Friends, I was brought up 
in that persuasion, and continued a member thereof until my 
marriage in 1843. For nearly the first eleven years the only 
sound instruction I received was from my beloved parents. 
Although I was sent to what was considered a good day- 
school, in the immediate neighbourhood, I have a most 
distinct recollection of its utter inefficiency as a place for 
communicating even the merest rudiments of knowledge, and 
it was not until my father sent me to a school at Epping that 
I had the slightest idea of what it was to be systematically 
taught, and to know the value and pleasure of learning. 
Amongst my schoolfellows were Henry and Edward Double- 
day, who have since attained a world-wide notoriety as 
entomologists. I was occasionally favoured with an invitation 
to go home with them to tea, occasions which were highly 
prized, as affording opportunities for seeing their collections 
and illustrated books of Natural History. From collecting 
insects, collecting plants and drying them—without regard to 
names, but for their intrinsic beauty—seemed naturally to 
follow. Thus habits of observing the beauties of creative 
wisdom were early fixed in my heart, and I often look back 
with thankfulness to that now far distant day when my 
friends the Doubledays sowed that seed which-was to keep 
out many temptations to evil, and prove such a lasting 
source of pure enjoyment.” When sixteen years of age 
Mr. Deane attended a series of lectures on Natural and 
Experimental Philosophy, at the Mathematical Society’s 
Rooms in Crispin Street. These were so admirably delivered, 
and made so deep an impression on his ardent mind then 
thirsting for knowledge, that they constituted, as he himself 
tells us, a turning-point in his life; and although afterwards 
for many years assiduous at his business of chemist and 
druggist, he never lost his intense love for natural Science up 
to the hour of his death Edward Newman. 
