Since the cultivation of ferns under glass became fashionable, Mr. Newman, one of the most successful cultivators and illustrators of this tribe of plants, has discovered that the larvæ of one of the weevils, Otiorhynchus sulcatus, do the ferns great injury by feeding within the caudex, and he has communicated a detailed account of these larvæ and their doings to the Entomological Society.* 66 It Mr. Newman has also communicated to the Entomological Society, a note on the damage caused to ferns by a minute He says, Hemipterous insect, Typhlocyba Filicum. inserts its strong, short and acute rostrum into the parenchyma of the frond, and remains for days in one position, apparently engaged during the whole time in extracting the sap, after the manner of an Aphis. The result of this abstraction of the juices of the plant is not, as in the case of the Aphis, a distortion of the leaf, but the production of whitish or yellowish spots or blotches, which increase in number and size until the entire frond is permanently, although not uniformly, discoloured. The injury is committed by the insect in all its stages; but as its growth to maturity is extremely rapid, and as its life in the imago state is usually prolonged, it follows that the injury caused by the insect in its perfect, is much greater than that in its preparatory states." Here, then, are more examples of the great interest attaching to the observation of the natural history of insects continually under our very eyes: others will present themselves to those who seek for them. * Proceedings Ent. Soc., 1855, p. 100. § III. THE ORCHARD AND FRUIT-GARDEN. "The downward orchard, and the melting pulp Of mellow fruit, the nameless nations feed Of evanescent insects." THOMSON. A WALK in an orchard, full of old fruit-trees, sets me thinking of the monasteries and the monks, who employed their leisure hours in cultivating apples, pears and other fruits, relieving the monotony of their existence by the mysteries of gardening, and varying the austerity of their fare by the produce of their grafts and seedlings. To their care we doubtless owe the preservation, if not the introduction, of some of our finest fruits, and I cannot but think that the natural history of the insects of the orchard also assisted to divide the attention of these holy men with studies of the fall of man by means of an apple, and such like theological questions. But it was not the fashion then to occupy parchment with the doings of such tenants of their estates, at least such proofs of their Natural-History lore have not been transmitted with the other records of their learning to our time, and our modern rural population has not preserved any traditions of their knowledge, if such they had, of the insect enemies of their fruit-trees. Or is it true that the present popular belief in blights has descended from these old cultivators, and is it possible that they knew no more about such things than our present race of farmers? Blight is a word used in the country to designate the all-sufficient cause of the failure of crops, of fruit in particular. Try and persuade a farmer that the millions of insects which ravage his orchard and fields are produced by ordinary generation from a preceding similar race; and he thinks you want to humbug him. He is not to be "done" that way; not he, indeed! Did he not see the blight come in the air? Were not all his trees and fields clear one day and swarming with the " varmint" the next? How else could they come, but in the air? Such a state of things would be laughable if the consequences were not serious. How many crops are lost annually in consequence? for, without a knowledge of the natural history of the insects causing the damage, even when the farmers are convinced that it arises from insect attacks, they may do more harm than good in endeavouring to stop them. All the accruing loss has to be borne by the people at large, either in privation or an enhanced price, and, as a great part of the loss might often be prevented if the people were better taught, the teaching of the principles of Natural History, and their application to the daily business of country life, should surely form part of the education of our rural population. But those who have the direction of instruction have themselves no knowledge of such "common things," and until they have it is in vain to expect that the people at large can be taught them. But even if our governors were aware of the value of such knowledge, there are other obstacles in the way. The Church Catechism and the Westminster Confession of Faith have no necessary connection with fruit and grain crops, and yet the people cannot be taught how the latter grow and why they sometimes fail from the attacks of "blight," because those in a higher station cannot agree about the form of theology-religion it is notin which they shall be instructed. Shall we ever be a wise nation? Not only is the fruit of the apple-tree a favourite with man, but also with several species of insects. There is, however, this difference, that whereas with the former it is an article of luxury, with the latter it is a necessary of life-they have it or they die. One of the insects on whose abundance or scarcity we are annually dependent for a large portion of the apple crop is a small beetle of the tribe of weevils (Anthonomus Pomorum), which hybernates in crevices, and in the spring is ready for its work. The method of its operations has often been seen and related: I select as the best the account first given by Rusticus.'* "By the time the female is ready for the important task of depositing her eggs, the spring has considerably advanced, the apple-buds have burst, and the little bunches of blossom are ready to be distinguished. The weevil soon finds out these; and selecting a blossom every way to her mind, commences her operations. The beak or trunk is furnished at the extremity with short teeth or mandibles: with these she gnaws a very minute hole into the * Observations on Blight,' Ent. Mag., i. p. 35. calyx of the future blossom, and continues gnawing until the trunk is plunged in up to her eyes; the trunk is then withdrawn, and the hole examined with careful scrutiny by the introduction of one of her feelers, or outer prongs of her trident. If it seems to require any alteration, the trunk goes to work again, and again the feelers: at last, being fully satisfied that the work is well accomplished, she turns about, and, standing with the extremity of her abdomen over the hole, thrusts into it her long ovipositor, an instrument composed of a set of tubes retractile one within the other, and deposits a single egg (never more) in the very centre of the future flower. Another examination with her feelers now takes place; and when she is thoroughly satisfied that all is right, away she flies to perform the same operation again and again, never tiring while she has an egg to lay. 66 The bud continues to grow like the other buds; the little perforation becomes invisible. By and by the egg bursts, and out comes a little white maggot, with neither legs nor wings: this maggot, directly it is hatched, begins to devour the young and tender stamens; next to these the style is attacked and eaten down to the fruit, the upper part of which is quickly consumed: the maggot is then full fed; it casts its skin, becomes a chrysalis, and lies perfectly still. Up to this time the blossom has continued healthy, no trace of the enemy being to be discovered from without; but when the neighbouring blossoms are expanding their petals to the genial breath of spring, those of the mutilated bud remain closed, and retain the arched balloon-like appearance of a bud about to burst. For a few days they preserve their lovely pink colour; and then by degrees fade to dingy brown. In this |