In 1783, the larvæ of the Moth, _Arctia chrysorrhœa_, were so destructive in the neighborhood of London that subscriptions were opened to employ the poor in cutting off and collecting the webs; and it is asserted that not less than eighty bushels were collected and burnt in one day in the parish of Clapham. And even in some places prayers were offered up in the churches to avert the calamities of which they were supposed by the ignorant to be the forerunner.[836] If a caterpillar spins its cocoon in a house, it foretells its desolation by death; if in your clothes, it warns you you will wear a shroud before the year is out. This superstition obtains in the Middle States, Virginia, and Maryland. If Moths, flying in a candle, put it out, it forebodes a calamity amounting to almost death. This superstition is pretty general. Why Moths fly in a candle: Kempfer tells us, there is found in Japan an insect, which, by reason of its incomparable beauty, is kept by the Japanese ladies among the curiosities of their toilets. He calls it a Night-fly, and describes it as being “about a finger long, slender, round-bodied, with four wings, two of which are transparent and hid under a pair of others, which are shining as it were polished, and most curiously adorned with blue and golden lines and spots.” The following little fable, which accounts so beautifully for the flying of Moths in a candle, owes its origin to the unparalleled beauty of this insect, and is well worthy of being preserved: The Japanese say that all other Night-flies (Moths, etc.) fall in love with this particular one, who, to get rid of their importunities, maliciously bids them, under the pretense of trying their constancy, to go and bring to her fire. And the blind lovers, scrupling not to obey her command, fly to the nearest fire or candle, in which they never fail to burn themselves to death.[837] The following verses, embodying the above fable (except in several minor particulars) are from the pen of Mrs. A. L. Ruter Dufour: One summer night, says a legend old, A Moth a Firefly sought to woo: “Oh, wed me, I pray, thou bright star-child, To win thee there’s nothing I’d dare not do.” “If thou art sincere,” the Firefly cried, “Go--bring me a light that will equal my own; Not until then will I deign be thy bride;”-- Undaunted the Moth heard her mocking tone. Afar he beheld a brilliant torch, Forward he dashed, on rapid wing, Into the light to bear it hence;-- When he fell a scorched and blighted thing.-- Still ever the Moths in hope to win, Unheeding the lesson, the gay Firefly, Dash, reckless, the dazzling torch within, And, vainly striving, fall and die! WASHINGTON, D. C., June 24, 1864.