Notices of New Books. 5047 



thus the conditions favourable to their increase proportionably multi- 

 plied and cared for. Some insects accordingly abound in gardens, 

 not only in those attached to mansions in the country, but in those 

 small parallelograms attached to modest suburban residences, which 

 are ironically, or by courtesy, termed gardens, but the number of spe- 

 cies found is not very great. Many garden flowers, however, are 

 attractive to insects born and bred beyond the boundary wall, and 

 draw them from the surrounding woods or fields : so far a garden is 

 an advantage to a collector, for some of the visitors are rare and 

 not otherwise to be obtained, or at least not without great trouble. I 

 allude more particularly to the Sphingidae, 



1 Soft moths that kiss 

 The sweet lips of the flowers and harm not/ 



hovering over them, Petunias especially, in some years in great 

 abundance. I suspect that if gardens near the south -coast were atten- 

 tively watched on summer evenings the number of our native species 

 of Sphingidae, at present very small, might be increased, and some of 

 the rarer species of the family be more often taken than they are at 

 present. 



" Did you ever see a Sphinx fly ? There is nothing to compare its 

 motion to, except a flash of lightning. While you are looking at 

 a flower in the twilight, between you and it glides a motion, a moving 

 haziness, which is before you and yet conveys to your eye no definite 

 image. Before you have half thought what it can be, you see 

 the flower again distinctly, and rub your eyes, thinking there must 

 have been an illusion, or possibly an unsteadiness of vision caused by 

 the irritation of that gnat that was buzzing about your head ; when, 

 lo ! the flower just beyond seems to shiver, — you move to see what is 

 there, but there is a move before you, and a dim shadow flits away 

 like a thought. Can it be anything real ? Stand still awhile : and 

 now, in the increasing gloom, as you bend over the Petunias, holding 

 your breath, you see a darkness visible drop down before you, but its 

 presence is better made known by the humming caused by the rapid 

 vibration of wings. Stir not, or this aerial body will float away. 

 Now you see it deigns not to alight or touch the margin of the 

 chalice, but, poising itself in air, stretches out its long tubular tongue 

 and quaffs the nectar at the bottom. Now or never, if you wish 

 to catch it. Strike with your ring-net rapidly below the flower, 

 raising your hand and turning your wrist at the same moment. 



