68 
A MORNING VISITOR. 
This speech will not surprise those who are acquainted with the 
great master’s vivid sensibility, and his reverence for the Beautiful. 
What is more astonishing is that an anatomist, a man living with the 
scalpel always in his hand—Lyonnet—should speak in the same sense, 
and so speak in reference to insects which are to ordinary observers the 
least interesting. That able and patient man has opened up, as we 
know, an entirely new channel for science by his colossal investigation 
of the willow-grub, from which we learn that the muscular development 
of the insect is identical with that of the higher animals. Lyonnet con¬ 
gratulates himself that he was able to bring his prolonged labours to a 
conclusion without killing more than eight or nine individuals of the 
species he wished to describe. 
A noble result of study ! In fathoming life by this persevering toil, 
far from growing coldly indifferent, he became more intensely sympa¬ 
thetic. The minute details of the infinitely little had revealed to him 
the sources of the keen sensibility which Nature has hidden everywhere. 
He had found it existing at the bottom of the animal scale, and thus 
he acquired a due reverence for every form of life. 
We are sometimes disquieted, repelled, and dismayed by insects 
exactly in proportion to our ignorance. Nevertheless almost every 
species, especially in our European climates, is perfectly harmless. But 
we suspect the unknown; and we are apt to kill those with which 
we are not acquainted, by way of acquiring knowledge. 
I remember that, one morning in June, about four o’clock, when 
the sun was already high in the heavens, I was aroused somewhat 
abruptly, though still much fatigued and very sleepy. I was living in 
the country, and my chamber, which faced the east, having neither 
curtain nor shutter, the sun’s rays fell full upon my bed. A magnificent 
drone, I do not know how, had made its way into the room, and joyously 
fluttered and buzzed in the sunshine. I grew weary of the noise. I 
arose, and thinking he wished to sally forth, threw open the window. 
But no; such was not his intention. The morning, though beautiful, 
was very fresh and damp: he preferred to remain indoors, in a more 
genial temperature, which dried and warmed him. Without, it was 
four A.M.; within, it was already noon. He acted precisely as I should 
