53 



think that these few examples will serve to show my meaning 

 and support my idea. 



Were I well acquainted with the other orders of the 

 Insecta, I could no doubt bring forward examples from the 

 Coleoptera, Odonata, etc. It seems to me that the mazy 

 dance on the surface of the water indulged in by the species 

 of the genus Gyrinus, and also the triumphant flight of 

 Aischna grandis as it skims over the pond, cleverly avoiding 

 the net of the acquisitive and all too sanguine collector, are 

 both manifestations of the joy of life. However, as I have 

 never studied these insects, I know nothing of their method 

 of life, neither of their joys nor of their sorrows, if they have 

 any. 



You will perhaps have noticed that in citing these examples 

 I have in almost all instances used the word watch, and for a 

 very distinct reason. If we merely see these creatures at play, 

 if we only look at them in passing, we shall not be aware that 

 they are playing — that they are simply enjoying life. We 

 shall merely have a picture of creatures at rest or creatures 

 in motion, with this or that background. But if we watch 

 them — that is, if we observe them attentively to-day, to- 

 morrow, this year, the following year, as long and often as 

 opportunity may allow, we shall perceive much more of their 

 life, we shall begin to understand, not only what they are to 

 us, but we may in part discover what their existence really 

 means to them. And to the pure biologist this latter point 

 is of the utmost importance. 



So much for the bright, joyous side of insect life ; now let 

 me turn your attention to the reverse — to the fears and 

 sorrows of animals, or more particularly of insects, for it is 

 with them that I am now chiefly concerned. 



Fear is apprehension of danger or pain. Our fears are born 

 of experience, or perhaps more often of imagination. I donot 

 believe that insects possess the faculty of imagination, so that 

 we may at once dismiss this factor from our consideration. 

 Experience may, perhaps, in some rare cases induce fear in 

 insects, but even this appears to me very doubtful. Insects, 

 as a rule, can have so very little experience that would be 

 likely to induce fear. For the accidents that an insect can 

 meet with which do not end in death seem to be extremely 

 few. Should an insect meet with a bad accident it can 

 scarcely recover — death in some form is sure to overtake it 

 speedily. For instance, should a winged insect be badly 

 injured by a bird or a bat, and yet escape, it will fall to the 

 ground, only to become sooner or later the prey of a shrew 



