AN INTRODUCTION TO ENTOMOLOGY.


[LETTER I.]

Dear Sir,

I cannot wonder that an active mind like yours should experience no small degree of tedium in a situation so far removed, as you represent your new residence to be, from "the busy hum of men." Nothing certainly can compensate for the want of agreeable society; but since your case in this respect admits of no remedy but patience, I am glad you are desirous of turning your attention to some pursuit which may amuse you in the intervals of severer study, and in part supply the void of which you complain. I am not a little flattered that you wish to be informed which class in the three kingdoms of nature is, in my opinion, most likely to answer your purpose; at the same time intimating that you feel inclined to give the preference to Entomology, provided some objections can be satisfactorily obviated, which you have been accustomed to regard as urged with a considerable semblance of reason against the cultivation of that science.

Mankind in general, not excepting even philosophers, are prone to magnify, often beyond its just merit, the science or pursuit to which they have addicted themselves, and to depreciate any that seems to stand in competition with their favourite: like the redoubted champions of romance, each thinks himself bound to take the field against every one that will not subscribe to the peerless beauty and accomplishments of his own Dulcinea. In such conflict for pre-eminence I know no science that, in this country, has come off worse than Entomology: her champions hitherto have been so few, and their efforts so unavailing, that all her rival sisters have been exalted above her: and I believe there is scarcely any branch of Natural History that has had fewer British admirers. While Botany boasts of myriads, she, though not her inferior either in beauty, symmetry, or grace, has received the homage of a very slender train indeed. Since therefore the merits of Entomology have been so little acknowledged, you will not deem it invidious if I advocate the cause of this distressed damsel, and endeavour to effect her restoration to her just rights, privileges, and rank.

Things that are universally obvious and easy of examination, as they are the first that fall under our notice, so are they also most commonly those which we first feel an inclination to study; while, on the contrary, things that must be sought for in order to be seen, and which when sought for avoid the approach and inquiring eye of man, are often the last to which he directs his attention. The vegetable kingdom stands in the former predicament. Flora with a liberal hand has scattered around us her charming productions; they every where meet and allure us, enchanting us by their beauty, regaling us by their fragrance, and interesting us as much by their subservience to our luxuries and comfort, as to the necessary support and well-being of our life. Beasts, birds, and fishes also, in some one or other of these respects, attract our notice; but insects, unfortunate insects, are so far from attracting us, that we are accustomed to abhor them from our childhood. The first knowledge that we get of them is as tormentors; they are usually pointed out to us by those about us as ugly, filthy, and noxious creatures; and the whole insect world, butterflies perhaps and some few others excepted, are devoted by one universal ban to proscription and execration, as fit only to be trodden under our feet and crushed: so that often, before we can persuade ourselves to study them, we have to remove from our minds prejudices deeply rooted and of long standing.