SENSATIONS OF INSECTS. 109 



searching for a convenient place of descent, suited to its cur- 

 tailed condition with respect to legs, of which it appeared 

 perfectly aware, occupied the head incessantly. I regarded it 

 with astonishment. " Here then," I said to myself, as 1 

 watched its motions, " here lies the vitality of an insect ! — the 

 body at any rate is dead." But in this I was quickly unde- 

 ceived ; for in about a minute after the body had fallen on the 

 paper, I saw the hind legs brought upward, and employed 

 delibei'ately in brushing and cleaning the wing-cases, exactly 

 as a house-fly may be seen to clean its wings on a window- 

 pane. The legs were then withdrawn, the cases raised up, 

 and the true wings expanded from beneath, and all made ready 

 for flight, which indeed I expected to see; but the body, 

 seeming then to become aware that there was no guide, the 

 head, its former companion, being in possession of the eyes, 

 the design was abandoned, the wings folded up in their usual 

 beautiful manner, and the attitude of rest again assumed. This 

 whole process was repeated with perfect regularity at intervals 

 of about a minute, if I rightly remember. A more perfect act 

 of a sentient cx'eature could not be exhibited. The head con- 

 tinued to run about, and the body to clear and spread its 

 wings, the one for about twelve, and the other for sixteen 

 hours ; their energies gradually decaying, till they appeared to 

 perish, or rather to sleep. And now, I ask, Which was the 

 beetle ? — Where was the original creature ? — Had not the head 

 and the body an equal right to be taken as its representative? 

 Is not all analogy between insects and ourselves destroyed by 

 such a phenomenon ? If a soldier were deprived of his arm 

 on the field of battle, we know how to talk about the soldier 

 still ; we can compassionate his sufferings ; we can admire the 

 heroism with which he bears them ; but if the arm were to 

 exhibit animation and independence — if it were to strike an 

 approaching enemy, or do such deeds as could not by possi- 

 bility be ascribed to mere muscular action, what should we think 

 of it, and, above all, how should we speak of it ? Would not 

 all ordinary language be at fault? What sort of a creature 

 would the arm be ? Would it be a human creature ? Should 

 we not be almost irresistibly impelled to introduce a superna- 

 tural, invisible agent, rather than attribute to the arm itself the 

 actions we witnessed ? I trust I have said sufficient to prove 

 my point, that the want of identity in insects, their divisibility 



