“ ‘Who is this Coleopterous? Have you lived in a hole? Learn, Sir Beetle, that which is known and sanctioned now-a-days we utterly condemn and ignore, while all that is obscure, lost in the dust of oblivion, we bring to light and restore with the varnish of our enthusiasm. Depend upon it, there has never been but one really grand epoch, which lasted twenty years and three months. This was in the twelfth century, during the time of Averroes. The Saracens brought art to the highest pitch of perfection.’ “ ‘Let us leave these driveling fools,’ I whispered to my companion. “ ‘Willingly.’ “Our next flight was across the garden to a spot I had never seen before. Its name was taken from an ancient causeway on which it had {121} been erected. We entered a rich tulip where a number of insects were assembled. “ ‘Here you see,’ said my companion, ‘the whole entomological race—peacock-butterflies, admirals, generals, princes, counts, satyrs, even Vulcan and Argus.’ You are aware the beetles are descended from an Egyptian race of insects accustomed to translate hieroglyphics of the physiognomy, and thus read the secrets of the heart. “I therefore understood at a glance that all the females of this vast assembly were ranged in a ring for no better purpose than criticising each other’s appearance and dress. They were indeed, without a single exception, secretly employed in picking each other’s robes, jewels, and looks to pieces. The males stood at some distance. I remarked to my friend that this chosen society appeared to me dull and miserable. Not wishing to judge hastily, I determined to listen to the conversation. “A group of sporting spiders were wholly engrossed with talk about hunting, dining, and betting, and how their blandishments had done for some gay thoughtless flies who had been decoyed into their chambers in pursuit of pleasure, and rewarded with death. Two fine females were whispering behind their fans. I slipped quietly up to them to listen. Imagine my surprise when I heard them using the slang of the lowest vermin living. “Their chief theme was the best means of draining their husbands’ purses to enable them to pursue their selfish pleasure, while I found out that their devoted partners were nearly driven to despair to make ends meet. My horns stood up on my head with horror. Addressing my companion, I said, ‘Is this what you call the pleasures of the world? In the modest field where I was born, it was not so. When a simple insect puts on her best dress, she wears her sweetest smiles all for her fond husband.’ “ ‘Well,’ said my Mentor, ‘what can one do? Fashion is king here, and he is a hard task-master. All these are his slaves in every detail of life, dress, and language.’ “ ‘But,’ I said, ‘if one thinks only of personal adornment, putting on one’s back all one’s worldly possessions, how fares the household?’ “ ‘The household!’ replied he; ‘who ever thinks of that? Domestic bliss belonged to our grandmothers.’