being voracious feeders, will often dart down from a considerable height upon a flower beneath their track, even when their leading object seemed to be very different from searching for food. This struck us more particularly, in a narrow garden at Havre de Grace, enclosed with stone walls 15 ft. high; for no butterfly, in passing over it, omitted to descend, for the purpose of visiting the blossoms of an alpine bluebottle (Centauréa montana), whose smell, however, to our organs, is far from being powerful enough to be perceived at the distance of 1 ft., much less at 15 or 20 ft., as it must have been by the butterflies; for we often saw the painted lady (Cynthia cárdui) and other high-flying species alight there."

This reminds me of a fact which I recollect to have repeatedly witnessed, and to have been much struck with, when a boy at school. Our playground, in shape a parallelogram, or oblong square, was enclosed with stone walls 15 or 16 ft. high; adjoining the playground, on one side was a garden, on the other the schoolhouse and premises, beyond which lay another garden. The boys were frequently in the habit, after they had finished their breakfast, of throwing down the basins in which it had been served, and heedlessly leaving them on the ground; so that it was no uncommon thing to see the playground studded in various parts with some half score or more of such conspicuous articles of white crockery. These basins, I used to observe, invariably attracted the attention of the common white butterflies (Póntia brássica, ràpæ, and napi), which, in passing over the wall from the adjoining garden, towards the opposite one, seldom omitted to dart down upon them, mistaking them, probably, for so many magnificent and full-blown flowers. In this instance, the

butterflies, I conceive, must undoubtedly have been attracted to the object by the sight, and not, as Professor Rennie supposes they were, by the scent, in the case of the alpine bluebottle, in the garden at Havre de Grace.

Many insects have the power of emitting, both in the larva and perfect state, a strong and disagreeable scent; for the purpose, as it is supposed, of self-defence. The effluvia of the wood ants, when their hillocks are disturbed, affects the olfactory organs almost as powerfully as hartshorn. Several species of Phrygànea, and, still more, several Hemeròbii, have an excessively offensive odour.* Professor Rennie observes (p. 53.), from Kirby and Spence, that "some bees (Andrénidæ) have a strong smell of garlic, which may probably be disagreeable to their various enemies." Is it generally known that one species of the bee family, Melitta fúlva Kirby, which visits our gardens in the spring, when the gooseberries and currants are in bloom, has a powerful and agreeable

Hence Petiver designates one species " Perla minima, merdam olens." [The smallest Perla, smelling of dung.]

smell, resembling that of Verbèna triphýlla L. (Aloýsia citriodòra Ortega), but more delicate?

Page 213.:

"In another interesting bee (Anthóphora retùsa), one of the masons, the distinction of the sexes is so great, that some naturalists of high name have described them as different species. The male is all black, except the hind thighs, which have an orange stripe; while the female is grey, and has the middle pair of feet fringed with long hairs."

Has not the author here just transposed the sexes? I ask the question rather for information's sake, than in the spirit of correction. But I have always been accustomed to consider the black bee as the female, and the grey one, with the pair of beautifully feathered legs, as the male. And, in this opinion I am borne out by the authority of Kirby (see Monographia Apum Angliæ, vol. ii. p. 296. 304.), where this great hymenopterist remarks, "The male of this Apis is so totally unlike the female, that it has been regarded by all authors, not excepting even Linnæus himself, as a distinct species." He then informs us, that " in an interleaved edition of the Systema Naturæ, containing the MS. notes of that great naturalist, he finds it described under the name of A. pénnipes." It is not surprising that the two sexes of this bee should have been mistaken for distinct species; it requires, indeed, more than a slight knowledge of its natural history to be persuaded of the contrary.

At p. 215. the professor says:

"In the instance of the orange-tip butterfly, while every meadow is swarming with males, we seldom see more than one or two females in a whole season, and those which are observed are seldom on the wing."

The males of very many (perhaps most) insects are far more abundant than the females; and this, no doubt, is the case with Póntia cardámines. But did the professor bear in mind, when he made the above remark, how very readily the female of this species, which has no gaudy colouring to distinguish it, and catch the eye, may be mistaken, on the wing, for other white butterflies, P. nàpi, e. g., and ràpæ? Admitting that the males are (as already said) by far the most abundant, I may state, that I am in the frequent habit of seeing the females every spring in my own garden, as well as in other places, and on the wing too.

Speaking of the luminous appearance of the glowworm, the author remarks, p. 226., on the authority of Mr. Knapp, that "Observation had taught him that the light is not emitted after the middle of July, at least so clearly and steadily (we found them at Rudesheim, on the Rhine, in full light, at the end of August); but he repeatedly noticed, deep in the herbage, a faint evanescent light proceeding from these creatures, even as late as August and September," &c. &c.

I observed glowworms in full light on the 1st of October, as I passed between Deal and Dover; and I recollect to have once seen one in this county (Warwickshire) shining bright, in a very stormy night, either in November or the end of October. I had no opportunity, in either of these cases, of examining the insects; but would ask whether these lateshining examples may not possibly be a distinct species. Of Lampyris splendídula, a British species with which I am not acquainted, I see it stated, in the Elements of Natural History, that "it disperses its light chiefly in rainy weather." Page 229.:

"We are not aware that any native insect is luminous besides the glowworm, and the electric centipede (Scolopendra cléctrica), which is by no means uncommon, though its light is seldom seen, in consequence of its living in holes, or under ground, from which it is seldom roused during the night. We have, however, more than once seen it in out-houses, or crawling along a pathway, upon which it sometimes leaves a track of phos phoric matter that may be lifted. On two different occasions we collected some of this, but it disappeared, probably by evaporation, before we could subject it to chemical analysis."

Though I must have frequently seen the insect, I never but once witnessed its luminous appearance. It was in the autumn: I was sitting at table after dusk, and having opened an apricot, was just on the point of lifting it to my mouth, when I was exceedingly surprised at perceiving an annular rim of fire encircling my thumb: it proceeded from a Scolopendra eléctrica, which had secreted itself, as is no uncommon case, between the flesh and the stone of the apricot, and was dislodged by my opening the fruit. The insect was of a bright yellow brown colour, longer and much more slender than represented in the figure at p. 230. May not more than one British species be possessed of this luminous property?

The figure of Anthrócera filipéndulæ (six spot burnet moth), at p. 264., I cannot help saying, is a wretched performance: those portions of the wings which ought to have been represented of the darkest, are made of the lightest, shade, and vice versâ. On the whole, it is scarcely sufficiently like the original to enable one to distinguish the insect intended to be represented, except that it can be meant for no other.

Professor Rennie recommends (p. 378.) the cedar, among other woods, for the purpose of constructing drawers for cabinets of insects. Let the inexperienced collector be warned that this is, perhaps, the very worst wood that can be employed for the purpose; a strong effluvia, or sometimes a resinous gum, exudes from the wood of the cedar, which is apt to settle in blotches on the wings of the specimens, espe cially of the more delicate Lepidoptera, and entirely dis

charges the colour. I once had a whole collection of lepidopterous insects utterly spoiled from having been deposited in cedar drawers; and I have understood, also, that the insects in the British Museum, collected, I believe, chiefly by Dr. Leach, have been greatly injured from the same cause. Possibly, however, cedar wood, after it has been thoroughly well seasoned, may be less liable to produce these injurious effects. Apologising to Professor Rennie for the freedom of the above hasty remarks (which, however, have been dictated solely by a love of truth), and to yourself and your readers for the length to which they have extended,

I remain, yours, &c. Allesley Rectory, February 22. 1832.

W. T. BREE.

ART. III. The Botanic Annual; or, Familiar Illustrations of the Structure, Habits, Economy, Geography, Classification, and Principal Uses of Plants, with Notices of the Way in which they are affected by Climate and Seasons, and a short Sketch of Coniferæ. By Robert Mudie, Author of "The British Naturalist," &c. 8vo, 446 pages. London, Cochrane and Co., 1832.

MR. MUDIE, the author, as it now appears, of The British Naturalist, has tried his hand at an "Annual." We regret this circumstance, not only because we cordially dislike all Annuals, ay, the whole generation, esteeming them as but petty flimsy wares, mere book-making jobs of a very tawdry description; but also because we think Mr. Mudie a naturalist of sufficient research and ability to have produced a work of a more solid cast, and (as we say) of a larger calibre. Annuals, it strikes us, are, among books, very much what dandies are among men. Their Their gay and glittering exterior, with all the meretricious trickery of embossed or figured binding, superfine wove paper, and gilt edges, we never can help suspecting may be intended to serve by way of compensation for the absence of more sterling worth within. And when the shine (which is as evanescent as the morning dew, or the bloom upon a ripe plum) is once gone out of these exquisites, their chief attraction is at an end, and they look no better than worn-out finery, or shabby genteel.

On receiving our copy of the Botanic Annual, we had, at first, serious thoughts of enshrining it within a glass case, and appropriating it solely and exclusively to the use of the very fairest of the fair sex. But on more mature deliberation, after having taken the precaution to overlay our table with a

bran-new covering of the softest satin velvet, and to draw on our own rude hands a spick and span pair of white kid gloves, we did venture, thus equipped, ourselves to open and peruse this delicate and dainty volume; which, in truth, comes behind few, if any, of its congeners, in all the arts and embellishments of modern book-millinery. But, to be serious, for we must be very brief on the present occasion, we really should have liked the volume much better, and should have read it far more comfortably and at our ease, had it appeared in the neat, modest, unassuming garb of homely drab or green calico, and had we been allowed the satisfaction of opening the leaves for ourselves with our own ivory knife, instead of finding them ready cut to our hand, and glittering away like so much gilt gingerbread in a fair. Once for all, we must protest against such attempts at ultra-elegance of outward decoration, which, coupled with the (to us) odious name of Annual, constitute just the sort of thing we do not like, and would have been enough almost to have damned the book in our eyes at the first glance, and at the distance of all across the shop of Messrs. Cochrane and Co. It becomes us not, however, to quarrel with the jewel on account of the brilliancy of the casket in which it is contained. The Botanic Annual, we are bold to say, stands in no need either of its fashionable and affected title (to which, indeed, the author himself acknowledges it has no legitimate claim); or of its tinsel decorations, to puff it into notice, possessing as it does quite enough of intrinsic merit, as a popular treatise, to insure it a favourable reception from the public. Though we are not prepared to coincide, through thick and thin, with every sentence to which our author gives utterance, and could readily, were we so disposed, point out many instances of the same kind of verbal inaccuracies, awkward expressions, and obscurities of style, which we noticed on a former occasion, when reviewing the British Naturalist, yet we scruple not decidedly to recommend his present performance to our readers; who, we have no doubt, will derive ample amusement and instruction from its perusal. Our limits absolutely forbid us from entering into minute particulars. We shall content ourselves, therefore, with doing little more than making one or two short extracts, and transcribing the heads of the chapters, from which, alone, no inconsiderable insight may be gained into the nature of the work itself. Chap. i. Introduction (on the pleasure and advantages of the study of nature, &c.); Chap. ii. Inducements to study Plants; Chap. iii. Science and Study of Plants; Chap. iv. Anatomy of Plants; Chap. v. Physiology of Plants; Chap. vi. Classification of Plants;