THE CHURCHYARD BEETLE. 121 



wholesome for the body ; no less are thoughts of mortality 

 cordial to the soul." Cold cordials they are bitter and dis- 

 tasteful ; but for this none the less salutary ; and plenty of us 

 life-lovers, besides the sordid worshippers of the Scarabaeus, 

 require their assistance for our moral health. The ancient 

 Egyptians, through their mingled haze of light and darkness, 

 were able to discern the wholesomeness of not forgetting they 

 were mortal, and, to prevent it, were in the habit of introduc- 

 ing an image of Death in the midst of their festal scenes. 

 This was well enough, as might be the churchyard beetle on a 

 temple of Mammon. The mind, however, soon grows blind 

 to what the eye is accustomed to behold ; and we doubt if the 

 individual who kept his coffin under his bed, thought, after 

 awhile, at all more frequently than the rest of us how soon he 

 might become an occupant of the narrow house. As with the 

 employments of the undertaker and the grave-digger " custom " 

 would bestow on all these intended prickers to reflection " a 

 propertv of easiness." For this reason, the most awakening, 

 perhaps, of all such remembrancers, are those which, like the 

 churchyard beetle, in its living form, come upon us unawares, 

 crossing suddenly our sunny summer pathways. 



The sepulchral locality in which the Blaps mortisager is 

 usually met with, may serve, of itself, to enable those unac- 

 quainted with insects to give a pretty shrewd guess as to its 

 character and occupation. It may also be distinguished as one 

 of the blackest of all black beetles, its funereal sable being 



