»74 The Zoologist— July, 1866 



on slender premises, and would, as a consequence, fall to the ground, 

 leaving no record behind it. Yet such must inevitably be the case at 

 the outset in every region of inquiry ; and we are prepared to expect 

 it. It does not, however, follow that good would not be developed 

 also, whilst we are confident of the fact that unless the trial be made 

 it cannot possibly arise." {Op. cit. p. 113.) 



This trial is still going on around us, and far from condemning its 

 present unsightly features, we ought to hail it as the forerunner of a 

 more universal spirit of inquiry amongst entomologists, which, once 

 awakened, will soon find means to build its hypotheses on safer ground 

 than can possibly be done at the present time. Meanwhile let us have 

 patience, and not daunt by word or deed those of the younger school, 

 who have, if not yet the knowledge, at least the good will to set to 

 work in earnest, even at the risk of showing their shortcomings, when 

 discussing questions, difficult even to the experienced amongst us. 



I would fain have abstained from offering any comment on this 

 subject, and indeed, were it not for the obvious reason that the 

 following notes will, by the very nature of the topics touched upon, 

 pretty nearly come under the head of speculations, I should not have 

 expressed my views on a point which, however, has no doubt given 

 some slight concern to more than one of the younger friends of 

 Entomology. 



But let us proceed to a more attractive subject than the foregoing. 



In the midst of the European continent rises the mighty chain of 

 the Alps, presenting everywhere its bold contours, and very indifferent 

 indeed must the traveller be whom the sight does not tempt to linger 

 in the neighbourhood of at least one of its snow-clad peaks. But let 

 him possess the tieelings of the lover of Nature, and allow him to roam 

 through the valleys in their bosom, let him ascend to the higher 

 pastures or wearily wade through snow-fields, let him cross a glacier 

 or feast his eyes on the scenery around, and mark his expressions of 

 joyous surprise — how new and unknown everything. Nor will a longer 

 stay alter this opinion, for his daily walks will, on the contrary, con- 

 firm his first impression that even a lifetime would not be sufficient 

 to get even a superficial knowledge of all the wonders he encounters 

 at each step. 



It is more particularly to the observer of insects that this truth is 

 coutinuall}' brought home, for when watching his little favourites for 

 any length of time it is a source of constant attacks on his knowledge 

 of their habits, as acquired by observation in lowlands, to see the total 



