Travelling by long stages, with their waggons drawn by shaggy Oxen and rolling on solid wheels cut out of the trunks of trees, the emigrants from Central Asia brought to our uncultivated tracts first the bean, then the pea and finally the cereal, that eminent stand-by against hunger. They taught us the care of herds and the use of bronze, of which the first metal implements were made. Thus did the dawn of civilization rise over Europe. With the bean did those ancient pioneers bring us, involuntarily, the insect which disputes its possession with us to-day? There is room for doubt; the Bruchus seems to be a native. I find her at least levying tribute on divers Leguminosæ of the country, spontaneous plants which have never tempted man’s appetite. She abounds in particular on the great broad-leaved everlasting pea (Lathyrus latifolius), with its magnificent clusters of flowers and its long and handsome pods. Its seeds are not large, are much smaller than those of our peas; but, gnawed to the very skin, as they always are by their occupants, they are each sufficient to the welfare of its grub. Note also their considerable number: I have counted more than twenty to the pod, a wealth unknown to the garden pea, even in its most prolific state. Thus the superb perennial is generally able, without much loss, to feed the family entrusted to its pod. Where the everlasting pea is lacking, the Bruchus none the less continues her habitual flux of germs on another legumen, of similar flavour but incapable of nourishing all the grubs, as for instance on the broad-podded vetch (Vicia peregrina) or the common vetch (V. sativa). The number of eggs remains high even on these insufficient pods, because the original plant offered a copious provender, whether by the multiplicity or by the large size of the seeds. If the Bruchus is really a foreigner, we may accept the bean as her first victim; if the insect is a native, let us accept the everlasting pea. Some time in the remote past the pea reached us, gathered at first in the same prehistoric garden-patch which already supplied the bean. Man found it a better food than the horse-bean, which is very much neglected to-day after doing such good service. The Weevil was of the same opinion and, without quite forgetting her broad bean and her everlasting pea, generally pitched her camp on the garden pea, which became more widely cultivated from century to century. To-day we have to go shares: the Bruchus takes what she wants and lets us have her leavings.