7 r> INSECTS. 



is a very coy mistress ; watchful nights, anxious days, slender 

 meals, and endless labours must be the lot of all those who pursue 

 her through her labyrinths and meanders ; nor will she ever con- 

 fess to violence what she is ready freely to disclose to patient 

 and attentive solicitation. See the amateur entomologist, fur- 

 nished with his nets and boxes, and all the adjuncts invented by 

 art for the purpose of waging war against the insect race, beating 

 up the whole country, toiling over hill and dale with indefatigable 

 perseverance, and so eager in his pursuit that he hardly allows 

 himself time to stick his murderous pins through the unfortunate 

 victims caught in his nets and never wearying of his sport until 

 his collecting-box is converted into a little charnel-house, filled 

 with their closely-packed and writhing bodies. He returns home, 

 delighted with his success ; but in spite of all his labour, he has 

 not added a single item to our knowledge, or a single fact to the 

 unknown history of any one species of his numerous specimens. 

 This was not the way in which Reaumur or De Geer devoted them- 

 selves to the interrogation of Nature : their efforts were directed 

 not to the destruction, but to the preservation, of the objects of 

 their study. They wielded not the scissors of the Fates, where- 

 with to cut the frail thread of insect life ; their method was to use 

 it as a clue to guide them through the hidden labyrinths of the 

 domestic history and habits of their favourites ; they chose some 

 fitting spot in the vicinity of the abodes of their proteges, and 

 watched and chronicled their every action, until, by patient wooing, 

 they at length succeeded in persuading them to confess the hidden 

 mysteries of their avocations. They dealt with living Nature, not 

 with corpses, and their rich pages testify to the interesting result 

 of their researches. 



It is certainly instructive on a winter evening to examine with 

 the miscroscope the various parts of a butterfly, and investigate 

 their curious structure ; but it is in the early morning, when the 

 sun shines on the laughing earth, the flowers have opened, and all 

 Nature smiles, that the butterfly is to be seen in perfection, fan- 

 ning the perfumed air with wings as white and pure as are the 

 blossoms of the lily over which he plays, coquetting, as it were, 

 to wake the jealousy of neighbouring roses. Is it coquetry, or is 

 it that he knows not where to choose the .sweetest nectar or the 

 prettiest flower ? See ! how he now advances, now retreats ; 

 returns and flutters off again, and then pounces down on a fresh 

 violet, coyly peeping from beneath its leaves. And now the little 

 rover takes his station, with a touch so light as not to discompose 



