Ants and Butterflies. 1 75 



And scorn the world, before the world them leave, 

 For all world's trust is ruin without ruth. 

 Then blest are they that, like the toiling ant 

 Provide in time 'gainst woeful winter's want. 



With this the grasshopper, yielding to the 



Weather's extremity, died comfortless without remedy." 



For the grasshopper lives quite as long as the ant, indeed 

 longer, when we take the duration of the several stages of 

 each insect's development into consideration. 



Nor am I thoroughly in sympathy with those who uphold 

 the ant as an exemplar of "wisdom." The male enjoys life 

 as frivolously as any other insect of his sex. The female 

 goes through her one duty of maternity with prodigious 

 diligence. The neuter, poor little drudge, slaves out its 

 twelvemonth of never-faltering labour with an apparent 

 cheerfulness and unflagging alacrity, which is indeed amaz- 

 ing, bewildering. 



But all human reason is ranged against this instinct for 

 ceaseless moiling. If he could, St. Lubbock would, I am 

 sure, insist on bank holidays for these unfortunate little 

 drudges, and everybody who has ever written or spoken on 

 the subject agrees that there is unwisdom in perpetual slaving. 

 For myself, I have never greatly applauded the ant. It sets 

 an example which, if man were to follow, would at once 

 make life intolerable, and eventually result in putting 

 lunatics in the majority. So I think the insect, as a pattern 

 to the sluggard, should be suppressed, or at any rate that 

 its abominable industry should cease to be quoted for our 

 edification. 



There is virtue in working. Nobody will deny that. But 

 there is wisdom also in timely relaxation. I hope, there- 

 fore, it is true, as some observers say, that ants play at games. 

 Meanwhile, I like Butler's lines : 



" Those get the least that take the greatest pains 

 But most of all i' the drudgery of brains, 



