THE OPEN LETTER

There are no small things in Nature, whatever the text-books say. All things in life are large and important if we will but have them so. The terms “large” and “small” are simply relative. To the eye of the insect world the delicate butterfly is a monster with widespread wings that completely cover the sky. To us the butterfly is an aery trifle, a gentle, silken-winged creature, a favorite subject of the poet’s fancy, “fluttering gaily, frolicking daily”—its life all pleasure, its task all play.

MILKWEED BUTTERFLY

Anosia plexippus, Linnæus. Body dark, border of wings black and spotted, center orange in color

And yet while so substantial and ponderous an animal as an ox can do its heavy work under a name containing but two letters, these fragile, fairy creatures must bear up under the burden of such titles as Argynnis Cybele or Lycæna Pseudargiolus. To the untutored mind it seems unfair.

But Dr. Holland tells us that we must not be daunted by this, nor let it check our interest in the study of butterflies. “The student of this delightful branch of science,” he says, “is certain to be called upon to use some rather long and uncouth words in the pursuit of the subject. But experience will soon enable him to master any little difficulties that arise from this source, and he will finally come to recognize how useful these technical terms are in designating distinctions which exist, but which are often wholly overlooked by the uneducated and unobservant.” It is reassuring, then, to be told by Dr. Holland that the collector at the outset need not tax his memory with the long scientific names which he encounters in the books. The late Dr. Horn, a most eminent entomologist, once said to Dr. Holland that he made it a duty not to try to remember the scientific names. He was content to have these names attached to the pins holding the specimens in his cabinet, where he could easily refer to them.

“In writing about butterflies,” Dr. Holland says, “it is quite customary to abbreviate the generic name by giving merely its initial. Thus, in writing about the Milkweed Butterfly, Anosia plexippus, the naturalist will designate it as A. plexippus.” Then he will attach the name of the man who gave this specific name to the insect. As Linnæus was the first to name this particular insect, the abbreviation would be as follows: A. plexippus, Linn. This simplifies things to some extent.

“In speaking about butterflies,” writes Dr. Holland, “it is quite common to omit the generic name altogether and use only the specific name. Thus, after returning from a collecting trip, I might say: ‘I was quite successful today. I took twenty Aphrodites, four Myrinas, and two specimens of Atlantis.’ In this case there can be no misunderstanding of the meaning.” The specific names alone are sufficient, and they are easy enough for any enthusiastic collector to learn.

W. D. Moffat
Editor

The Butterfly Book

Courtesy Doubleday, Page & Co.

Copyrighted by W. J. Holland, 1898

SPRING BUTTERFLIES

BUTTERFLIES