There are very many subjects and employments of mankind, which, if we would obtain a competent knowledge of them, will require an almost undivided attention; yet, after all our “rising early and late taking rest,” we shall know too little to be weighed in competition with what is beyond our attainment or comprehension. As in ascending mountainous regions we may reach the summit of one hill with comparative ease, that of a higher with more laborious efforts, and a still higher is attained by a gifted few, beyond which our breath fails us, our natural powers become inadequate; so a small number may ascend the Alps of science, but pant, unable to attain the Himmala ranges of their wishes. If proficiency be the object, all the branches of natural history require undivided attention; but amusement, admiration, and intelligence, may be obtained by even superficial observation; and of all these departments, perhaps entomology, or the investigation of the insect world, from the variety it embraces, the season, the subjects, and the vigilance necessary to catch every momentary action, requires from its followers an homage more absolute, an attention more devoted, than most others. Amid those few branches of science on which I have sought for blossoms, that of entomology I have least investigated; yet, perhaps it may be said, that such slight notices as the foregoing need not have usurped the time that the study of this department required. To this truth I cannot but assent, and say with the eminent man, whose “Centuries of Experiments” I have often quoted, that they are indeed more the suggestions of “light than of fruit;” proficiency was beyond my powers; I have sought for amusement, and gratefully record the many peaceful hours, and oblivion of pain, which the perusal of nature’s volume gave me, superficial as that perusal was.