THE ZooLocist—JANUARY, 1872. 2881 
question as completely concealed it from our sight, and from the 
day that profound entomologist published, in the Transactions 
of the Linnean Society, his “Tllustrations of the Relationships 
existing amongst Natural Objects, and usually termed Affinity and 
Analogy,” the subject has fallen into oblivion. The phenomena, 
however, are not so easily disposed of; and while the “ Elucida- 
tions,” “Explanations” and “ Illustrations” are utterly forgotten, 
the phenomena elucidated, explained and illustrated, continuously 
crop up, excite our interest, and often lead to some of our most 
agreeable discussions. Of late years, more especially, these simi- 
larities have been diligently observed, carefully described and 
abundantly canvassed; nevertheless, as aids to classification, they 
are at present utterly ignored. 
The butterflies of Science dwell lovingly, aye, doat, on them, 
and coin all manner of endearing epithets by which to distinguish 
them: “mimetic,” “representative,” “ protective,’ and so forth: 
they write and talk—I cannot say logically or consecutively, but 
profusely and brilliantly—on this fashionable theme, and thus 
achieve reputations which the day-labourer, the “species man,” 
never attains: these butterflies of Science, like the butterflies of 
Nature, flutter all round the fountain of knowledge, toy and gambol 
with one another among the flowers on the margin, just sip at each 
honied chalice, and then off and away to somewhere else and to 
something else: they tarry not to drink. Perhaps they are right. 
I regard it as impossible to render these similarities available for 
purposes of classification until we have studied them in a more 
methodical, more earnest, and, if I may use the expression, more 
sincere manner, not for the sake of display, but, in the first place, 
mainly for self-instruction, and ultimately for the instruction of . 
others. 
The value of these similarities may be very small indeed, yet 
may, on the other hand, be very great indeed, but we cannot draw 
just and useful conclusions until we have carried out the subject to 
its full extent: we say the varying hare assumes its white coat in 
winter that it may thus escape the notice of the foxes; but we 
pause not to ask why the foxes assume the white coat at the same 
time. Is it to escape the notice of the hares? Butterflies not only 
resemble butterflies, but they often so nearly resemble moths, or 
flowers, or leaves, or sticks, or even stones, that it requires the 
educated eye of the naturalist to detect, and the practiced art of 
