number of these moths suddenly made their appearance.
Their cry and singular aspect filled all
minds with terror. The curates spoke of the
visitation in their pulpits, declared that it was a sign
of the anger of Heaven, and many people were
so impressed, that they made public confession
of their sins. One curate wrote a homily on
the subject, which was inserted in the Mercure
de France. The most incredulous were even of
opinion that the prodigy was the forerunner of
a plague. Monsieur de Ponchartrain, at that
time secretary to the navy, demanded of the
Academy if the general fear were well founded,
and that learned body, having replied in the
negative, was roundly taken to task by the
Church, the fathers of Trevaux proclaiming in
their Journal that the Academy acted wrongly
in disabusing people of a salutary terror. "The
public," they said, "is always in the right when
alarmed, because it is always culpable, and
everything that reminds it of the anger of an
avenging Deity is always respectable"— delicious
bathos!

The Sphinx Atropos, in some of its wanderings,
reminds one of the " skulls at Memphian
banquets," as it is frequently seen where good
living is going on. A few years ago, one of
these moths was taken by a sceptical cook
in the kitchen of the Pavilion Hotel at Folkesone;-
another, about the same time, became
captive to a strong-minded baker at
Canterbury; and on the fifth of October, eighteen
hundred and fifty-nine (as I can vouch
from personal knowledge), an enormous Sphinx
flew in at the kitchen window of a chateau, at
Capecure, near Boulogne-sur-Mer, frightening
the natives not a little; the cook, Madame
Francoise (who was not strong-minded nor in
any way unbelieving), declaring that somebody
would soon die in consequence. This prediction
was actually verified next day: an old woman
aged ninety-seven died at Boulogne.

The Sphinx Atropos, though no demon, not
even the French Academy can deny that he
is a robber. They rob beehives. '' This moth
has the faculty of emitting a remarkable sound,
which it is supposed may produce an effect
upon the bees of a hive, somewhat similar
to that caused by the voice of their queen, which,
as soon as uttered, strikes them motionless; and
then it may be enabled to commit with impunity
much devastation in the midst of armed bands.
They, indeed, pass the whole of their initiatory
state in the midst of the combs. Yet, in spite
of the stings of the bees of a whole republic,
they continue their depredations unmolested,
sheltering themselves in tubes made of grains of
wax, and lined with silken tapestry, spun and
woven by themselves, which the bees (however
disposed they may be to revenge the mischief
which they do them, by devouring, what to all
other animals would be indigestible, their wax),
are unable to penetrate. These larvae are
sometimes so numerous in a hive, and commit such
extensive ravages, as to force the poor bees to
desert it and seek another habitation." Thus
far Kirby by and Spence; and Mr. Noel Humphreys
informs us, that " sometimes the robber is
boldly attacked and stung to death, in which
case a singular display of instinct not
unfrequently takes place. The moth having died
with extended wings, it is found impossible to
eject him by the opening of the hive, which he
had entered with his wings partially closed; and
the bees, apparently aware that the decay of so
large a body within their dwelling would render
it unhealthy, proceed at once to coat it with
wax; and then, as it were, embalmed, the moth
remains in its waxen serecloth, perfectly
innoxious for any space of time." Pliny, who
has a remedy for every evil, and who notices the
ravages of moths (or, as he says, butterflies) in
the hives of bees, gives the following advice on
the subject: " In winter-time beehives should be
covered with straw, and oftentimes perfumed
with beasts' dung especially; for this is agree-
able to their nature. Over and besides it killeth
the wicked vermin that breed in them—spiders,
butterflies, and woodworms ... As for the
spiders aforesaid, they verily are not so harmful
and be soon destroied; but the butterflies do the
more mischiefe, and are not so easily rid away.
However, there is a way to chase them also,
namely, to wait the time when the mallow doth
begin blossome, to take the change of the moone,
and chuse a faire and cleare night, and then to
set up certaine burning lights just before the
beehives; for these butterflies will covet to flie
into the flame."

The terrors inspired by the lepidopterous
race are not confined to the evil omen drawn
from the presence of the Sphinx Atropos.
Many species, when they emerge from the pupa
state, discharge a reddish fluid, which, in some
instances, where their numbers have been
considerable, has produced the appearance of a
shower of blood. That insects are the cause of
these showers is no recent discovery; for
Sleidan relates that in the year fifteen hundred
and fifty-three a vast multitude of butterflies
swarmed through a great part of Germany, and
sprinkled plants, leaves, buildings, clothes, and
men with bloody drops, as if it had rained blood
(quoted in Mouffat). The most interesting ac-
count of an event of this kind is given by
Reaumur, from whom we learn that in the be-
ginning of July, sixteen hundred and eight, the
suburbs of Aix, and a considerable extent of
the country around, were covered with what
appeared to be a shower of blood. We may
conceive the amazement and stupor of the populace,
the alarm of the citizens, the grave reasonings
of the learned. All agreed in attributing this
appearance to the powers of darkness, and in
regarding it as the precentor of some direful
misfortune about to befal them. Fear and prejudice
would have taken deep root on this occasion,
and might have produced fatal ellects, had
not M. Peiresc, a celebrated philosopher of
that place, paid attention to insects. A chrysalis,
which he preserved in his cabinet, let him into
the secret of this mysterious shower. Hearing
a fluttering, which informed him his insect was
arrived at its perfect state, he opened the box in