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THE YOUNG NATURALIST. 



compound adjective-substantives translated from Greek into Latin, or some- 

 thing equally edifying, and equally calculated to advance our Entomological 

 knowledge. Though I am an Ignoramus no doubt, I do not wish to imply 

 that there is any advantage in spelling a Latin word improperly, or giving a 

 wrong termination to a Greek one, but after a name has been accepted and 

 is in general use, where is the advantage of altering it because the termina- 

 tion is doubtful, or some single vowel would have been more correct as a 

 dipthong. The present squabble has fastened on Mr. South's List, but it did 

 not originate with it. The fire was smouldering before, and the List in 

 question only fanned it into flame. As far as I can make out, the conflagra- 

 tion originated with a proposal to call a certain doubtful pug, by the name of 

 Blancheata, in honour of a young lady. It was a doubtful compliment at 

 best, but it roused the ire of some learned entomologist, who, fearing we 

 might be having next such names as Tollyaria or Billyata came down upon 

 Blancheata with forty Nasmyth power, enough to crush both the pug and 

 the young lady. Next came Mr. Gregson into the arena with his whip of 

 scorpions. He told us we had De#i$ata, Po^commata and what not already, 

 and where was the harm in Blancheata, It was not very logical perhaps, 

 and might have been funnier had he divided his words and written De Biliata 

 and Poly O'Don, the latter of which would be an appropriate compliment to 

 the good lady of the O'Connor Don suppose they chance to call her Mary. 

 Then we had the Entomologist's review of Mr. Cregson's pamphlet, and Mr r 

 South' s List, and the fire burst into flame once more, with noise enough for 

 a volcano. But what does it all amount to ? These things have been done 

 before and will be done again. Sometimes nothing is said, sometimes there 

 is a controversy, but it always ends the same way. It reminds me of an 

 anecdote of the late President Lincoln. A noisy fellow was blustering about 

 something or other that he hid not approve of. Lincoln waited till he had 

 finished, then said he would tell them a story. A gentleman of his acquain- 

 tance had a dog, and whenever the moon was bright the dog was in the habit 

 of going out into the street, and barking. This did not seem much of a story, 

 but as Lincoln said no more the fellow said 11 yes, Mr. Lincoln, and what 

 else." " Oh ! nothing else " replied Lincoln, " the moon took no notice, it 

 shone on just as before." So with nomenclature, when we are not suited 

 we go out and bark, but the working Entomologists who make the discoveries, 

 go on just as before, and name their insects in honour of their friends in bad 

 Latin or worse Greek, just as if no one had barked at all. I was looking 

 over an old volume of the Entomologist's Annual the other day. It contained 

 an account of the doings of the year 1866, and among other things was an 

 article on Coleoptera, giving an account of nineteen beetles new to science 



