THE BIRD’S WORK OF DESTRUCTION. 
167 
them with ? With very few insectivorous insects; the latter, armed 
and mailed—carabi and stag-beetles—covered with metallic scales, 
equipped with hooks and pincers, of an indestructible vitality, would be 
a horrible food for the young of the warbler, who, before such a pro¬ 
vision, would assuredly take to flight. This is not the kind of aliment 
the sagacious mother seeks for her offspring; but soft and, as it were, 
milky insects, fat and succulent larvse, fine little tender caterpillars,— 
all herbivorous, fructivorous, and leguminivorous animals; exactly 
those which do the greatest mischief in our fields and gardens. 
Accordingly, the great labour of the bird against the insect pre¬ 
cisely coincides with the labour of the husbandman. 
For the rest, we are far from saying, as the author referred to makes 
us say, that the bird is the sole purifier of creation. One must be 
blind, and indeed senseless, not to see that he shares this mission with 
the insect. The action, too, of the latter is undoubtedly more efficaci¬ 
ous in the pursuit of a world of living atoms, which the insect, whose 
eyes are microscopes, detects and pounces upon in numerous obscure 
corners, inaccessible to the bird. The bird, on the other hand, is the 
essential purifier of everything demanding long-sightedness and the 
power of flight,—as, for example, the frightful clouds of invisible ani¬ 
malcules which float and swim in the air, and therefore pass into our 
lungs. 
As a rule, the equilibrium of species is desirable. All are more or less 
useful. We willingly join with the author of the paper referred to in 
the wish that those insects which prey upon the smaller species might 
be specially distinguished and spared. The peasant destroys them in¬ 
discriminately, without knowing that by killing, for instance, the 
dragon-fly (or libellula )—the brilliant murderess which slays a thou¬ 
sand insects daily—he is helping the latter: becomes the auxiliary of 
the insects, the preserver and propagator of the enemies which devour 
his substance. The terrible cicindela does not fly so high, but with its 
crossed daggers, or rather the two scimitars which serve it for jaws, 
accomplishes a swift and almost incredible havoc among the smaller 
insects. Take care, then, and respect it. Do not listen to the child 
who is dazzled by the beauty of its wings, nor, to please him, impale 
