example of De Geer, Reaumur, and Huber, and study minutely the habits of particular tribes; and it is probable, that physiology might be much advanced by minutely investigating the simplest forms of living beings; and that particularly with respect to the functions of generation a minute study of the modifications of which the forms of animals seems susceptible, particularly in the hymenopterous, or bee tribe, might lead to very important results. POIET.—Even in a moral point of view, I think the analogies derived from the transformation of insects admit of some beautiful applications, that have not been neglected by pious entomologists. The three states—of the caterpillar, pupa, or aurelia, and butterfly—have, since the time of the Greek poets, been applied to typify the human being—its terrestrial form, apparent death, and ultimate celestial destination; and it seems more extraordinary that a sordid and crawling worm should become a beautiful and active fly—that an inhabitant of the dark and fœtid dunghill should in an instant entirely change its form, rise into the blue air, and enjoy the sunbeams,—than that a being, whose pursuits here have been after an undying name, and whose purest happiness has been derived from the acquisition of intellectual power and finite knowledge, should rise hereafter into a state of being, where immortality is no longer a name, and ascend to the source of Unbounded Power and Infinite Wisdom. PHYS.—I have been listening, Halieus, to your account of water-flies with attention, and I only regret, that your details were not more copious; let me now call your attention to that Michaelmas daisy. A few minutes ago, before the sun sunk behind the hill, its flowers were covered with varieties of bees, and some wasps, all busy in feeding on its sweets. I never saw a more animated scene of insect enjoyment. The bees were most of them humble bees, but many of them some new varieties to me, and the wasps appeared different from any I have seen before. HAL.—I believe this is one of the last autumnal flowers that insects of this kind haunt. In sunny days it is their constant point of resort, and it would afford a good opportunity to the entomologist to make a collection of British bees. POIET.—I neither hear the hum of the bee, nor can I see any on its flowers. They are now deserted. PHYS.—Since the sun has disappeared, the cool of the evening has, I suppose, driven the little winged plunderers to their homes; but see, there are two or three humble bees which seem languid with the cold, and yet they have their tongues still in the fountain of honey. I believe one of them is actually dead, yet his mouth is still attached to the flower. He has fallen asleep, and probably died whilst making his last meal of ambrosia. ORN.—What an enviable destiny, quitting life in the moment of enjoyment, following an instinct, the gratification of which has been always pleasurable! so beneficent are all the laws of Divine Wisdom.