1 8 2 The Poets and Nature. 



and the things belonging thereto. Though constantly con- 

 fessing to the practical advantages of night, they perpetually 

 abuse it as a time of all dreadfulness. Yet we know it to be 

 the tutelary genius of the small-creature world, their protection 

 and Providence. Concealed by it, they repose in security, 

 and under cover of the shadows of night come out to seek 

 the food which they dare not look for when man and other 

 large animals are abroad. Moths are among the illustrations 

 of this protective caution. 



Science, for the sake of classification, has butterflies, moths, 

 and neither-one-thing-nor-the-others, the differences in the 

 three being solely in the shape of the end of the antennae. 

 But practically there is no difference at any stage of life, 

 either as caterpillar, chrysalis, or perfect insect. Nor in any 

 habit or detail of life. Each division hoplessly overlaps 

 the other. Moths are, therefore, simply night-butterflies. 

 Butterflies are day-moths. Some fly by night, for better 

 protection doubtless, but many by day. Thus among the 

 heather in July, the "heath moth" and "heath butterfly" 

 flutter about together. Poets, therefore, have no grounds 

 for drawing a line between the two classes. But, as I have 

 so often noticed before, the fact of any class of creature being 

 nocturnal prejudices the poets against it. To be " dusky " 

 is to be unamiable. 



For instance, Thomson says 



"Soft-buzzing Slander, silly moth, that eats 

 An honest name ' 



as if moths " buzz ! " as if there was any, the remotest, analogy 

 between slander and a moth ! Ben Jonson has 



' ' Security 

 It is the common moth 

 That eats our wits and arts, and so 

 Destroys them both." 



Change, as tending to waste, and Desuetude (the old 



