This spring, 1827, fostered into active life an insect unknown in our district, or at least unnoticed before by me; a pretty little blue butterfly, for which I know no common appellation, and so have named it the “spring azure,” (papilio argiolus). It appeared quite at the end of April, and in some numbers, but was yet a transient visitor with us, as after the first week in May only a lingering specimen or so was visible. Few wild flowers are then in bloom; but, leaving all herbaceous plants, it frequented chiefly the holly, the laurel, and the black currant, feeding on the honey secreted by the nectaries in their blossoms. If this butterfly be anywhere common, it may be mistaken by indifferent observers for the little blue argus of our pastures; but it appears some months earlier than that insect is accustomed to do; does not flit from blossom to blossom, and bask upon the disks of the lowly herbs; and, though a feebler creature on the wing, takes a much higher range in flight, and sports in altitudes which the argus, with all its animation, is very rarely inclined to attempt. When in captivity, the dark margins of the upper wings, the black specks, not eyes, and the pale blue of the reverse, without any other character, render it perfectly distinguishable from the papilio argus, corydon, or any other butterfly found with us. A small hatch again takes place about the end of July, and this pretty insect haunts anew our currant bushes; but, enlivened by the warmth of the season, it becomes more wild and wary, and avoids our approach.