1868.] 221 
the Biadema that you took in the forest, and this Papilio, and then ask 
any ordinarily intelligent person whether he or she sees any difference 
between them: he or she will almost certainly reply that you are 
joking, and that of course they are all the same butterfly. After this, 
you had better proceed to ask yourself what this wondrous imitation of 
a common butterfly by two scarce ones of entirely different groups 
means. 
But it would be tedious to recount all the forms of interest and 
beauty which crowd this limited flowery space ; how you mistake the 
female of Biadema Bolina for the Banais Clirysippus near which she 
sits; or how you capture, for the first time, the splendid Junonia 
Anacardii, the living gloss of whose pearly wings contrasts strangely 
with your memory of some ancient and battered specimens that have 
hitherto represented the species in your cabinet. It is high time to 
change the scene. 
Eemove we, then, to the uplands at some distance from the coast. 
On these undulating grassy downs, extending far and wide to the 
boundary-ranges of mountains, how clear and exhilarating is the air, 
how bright the wayside flowers and dew-laden herbage. Nature seems 
to rule here with a more placid and cheerful sway than on the torrid 
coast. The very oxen that draw the cumbrous waggon, which you 
have learned to regard as your home for the nonce, feel the relief of 
this high- plateau, and step out quite briskly, without need of the 
incentive usually supplied by the loud crack of the driver's whip. You 
walk on ahead, enchanted with this charming climate, and almost 
induced by the beauty of the orchids and Gladioli around to abjure 
your profession and swear allegiance to Elora. 
Beetles evidently have it much more their own way up here. On 
the grass-grown waggon-track that you are following Ateuchi and other 
CopropJiaga are hard at work, bearing witness to the fact that another 
waggon has passed not long since. Slow Seteroonera, of a grave and 
venerable aspect, are also perambulating the path : they remind one of 
nothing so much as elderly gentlemen taking a " constitutional," for 
they seem to have no particular object in view, and stop occasionally in 
a vague manner, as if for want of breath, or perhaps pondering whether 
they have walked far enough. The rugose Bhyncoplwra that toddle 
about are even slower, and seem the very tortoises of the insect world. 
A rapid Antliia or Cicindela now and then hurries past at a very 
different pace ; they are evidently on business, and look as if they 
feared to be late for their train. 
If you wander from the track among the long grass, you are sure 
