very singular and unaccountable: sometimes on my approach to one so situated, it has been alarmed and flown to a considerable distance, but taking a flight round, it returns to the place; and presently there is the little thing alighting on the very leaf again. The playful pugnacity just noticed seems almost peculiar to the Lycaenidae. With the exception of the Pearly Eye (Hipparchia Andromacha), noticed in my last, which has the same habit, I do not recollect any instance in which I have seen it displayed by any of the other families of Butterflies.

I have just seen a pretty but very destructive little insect, the Peach Hawk-moth (Egeria exitiosa). It was in the woods; and as it flitted in a hurried manner from shrub to shrub, and crawled swiftly to and fro over the leaves, quivering its antennæ and flirting its violet wings, I was again struck with an observation that I have before made,--how very hymenopterous many of the Ægeria are! The similarity is not confined to shape, though this is striking in antennæ, wings, and body; the most usual colours are black banded with yellow, with white, sometimes with orange or scarlet, all hymenopterous colours. The prevalence of purple reflections from the wings, and the angle with the body at which they are often carried, are hymenopterous; as are also their manners. Their flight is usually rapid, and in straight lines; they alight suddenly, and as suddenly depart; move by fits and starts and, in short, are so much like the waspish tribes, that notwithstanding the acquaintance with insects which some years' observation of their habits has given me, I have often been deceived. It was not until I looked at the Exitiosa very closely, that I discovered it to be a moth.

Most insects of this genus pass their larva state in the trunks of trees, either between the bark and the wood, or in the heart of the wood itself. This species inhabits the peach-tree, to which it is very injurious, often causing premature decay and death. The larva is white, as are most larvæ which are habitually excluded from the light, whether residing in holes in wood, in cells of combs, or beneath the surface of the earth. The pupa near the time of its exit works its way to the circumference of the tree, like the Cossus I mentioned before, where it opens, the perfect insect entering upon a new existence, and leaving the exuviæ of the pupa, its grave-clothes, lying at the mouth of its late sepulchre. It has now become a pretty fly, with wings perfectly destitute of plumage, but glossed with a reflection of bright steel blue, the body of bright blue, with one band of scarlet.

A large dipterous fly (Mydas clavatus), common now, is marked in a similar manner with a band of scarlet across the abdomen, a rather unusual thing among the two-winged flies. It is much like a Musca, but with a longer abdomen: the wings are dark-brown with a purple gloss; it is about an inch and three-fourths in length, and two inches and a half in spread of wing. Of its habits I know nothing, save that it is rather dull of motion.

Not so a pretty Bee-fly (Bombylius

?), which I caught

this morning, the first I have ever seen alive. I first discovered it by observing its shadow on the ground, quivering, yet stationary; and on looking up, saw this pretty fly suspended in the air, about two feet from the ground, without any motion, except the rapid vibration of its almost invisible wings. What its object could be in thus suspending itself in the sunshine over the bare gravelled road, I am at a loss to conjecture. In general form it is much like a flesh-fly; but it has a long straight proboscis projecting from the head, like that of a gnat. Its motions are very swift and sudden, shooting from one stationary point to another so rapidly as to be invisible during the transit.

A singular instance of voracity, or of deviation from ordinary appetite, has come under my notice. I had found while out, a large downy caterpillar of the Tobacco Hawk-moth (Sphinx Carolina), and soon after, I took a stout dragon-fly. I put both into the same box to bring them home, and on opening it, found that the caterpillar, having taken a fancy for a change of diet, had ventured upon animal food, and had actually eaten a large piece out of his companion's wing, including a good deal of the stiff and hard front rib: I should think he must have found it rather a dry dainty. I have occasionally before known a caterpillar to eat into the bowels of a living chrysalis, or to seize upon another caterpillar; and I once reared one which ate young earth-worms with great relish. Had the caterpillar any patriotic intention of avenging the atrocities perpetrated occasionally by the Dragon-fly race upon the Lepidopterous tribes?

Two species of Butterfly have occurred to my notice since my last the Variegated Fritillary (Argynnis Columbina) and the Coral Hairstreak (Thecla Mopsus). The former is tessellated with orange, black, and yellow, which colours on the under surface (especially of the hind-wings) are admirably varied with shades of soft rich brown. It is not deficient in beauty, though it wants the brilliant metallic spots common to many of its congeners. Two inches and a-half is its usual extent; I have seen a specimen which

measured three inches and one-tenth, but it was one of unusual size. It is as yet rare, and very difficult of approach. The Hairstreak is a little one; the hind-wings are of rather an unusual shape, running off to a point: the colour is dull-brown, unspotted above, beneath marked with a row of round spots of bright scarlet, like a string of beads. These are rather common. Of the butterflies which I have noticed before, the Green Clouded Swallowtail (Papilio Troilus) and the Painted Beauty (Cynthia Huntera) are becoming quite common: the Blue Swallowtail (Pap. Philenor) is becoming scarce, and the Zebra Swallowtails (P. Ajax) are nearly all gone.

As one species goes out of season another comes in; so that there is a constant succession; and the fields and prairies are still enlivened and adorned with these beautiful fairy creatures.

An eye accustomed only to the small and generally inconspicuous butterflies of our own country, the Pontic, Vanessa, and Hipparchia, can hardly picture to itself the gaiety of the air which swarms with large and brilliant-hued Swallow-tails and other patrician tribes, some of which, in the extent and volume of their wings may be compared to large bats. These occur, too, not by straggling solitary individuals: in glancing over a blossomed field or prairie-knoll, we may see hundreds, including, perhaps, more than a dozen species, besides moths, flies, and other insects.

When contemplating such a scene thus thronged with life, I have been pleased to think of the very vast amount of happiness that is aggregated there. I take it as an undoubted fact, that among the inferior creatures, except when suffering actual pain, life is enjoyment; the mere exercise of the bodily organs, and the gratification of the bodily appetites, is the highest pleasure of which they are capable for as Spenser says—

"What more of happiness can fall to creature
Than to enjoy delight with liberty ?"
Fate of the Butterfly.

To look then on the multitudes of beings assembled in so circumscribed a spot, all pursuing pleasure, and all doubtless attaining their end, each one with an individual perception and consciousness of enjoyment, what a grand idea does it give of the tender mercy of God, as a God of providence!

[To be continued.]

All look for happiness beneath the sun,

And each expects what God has given to none.

SUPERSTITIOUS OBSERVANCES OF THE KHONDS AND KOOKEES.

A HISTORY of superstition would be one of the most remarkable narratives which the hand of man has ever penned, and perhaps very few portions of it would be more extraordinary than those which referred to the superstitions of the Khonds of Orissa. Hid in their mountain fastnesses, these people were only known to us, until a recent period, by obscure report. Happily, however, we are told that their cruel practices are already discontinued, and we shall accordingly speak of them as of things no longer existing. We presume, however, that the main features of the Khond religion remain unaltered; and we shall therefore write, after this caution, in the present tense, when not alluding to the practices of infanticide and human sacrifice.

The Khonds believe in a deity whom they call Boora Pennu, who first created a wife for himself, called Tari Pennu, and afterwards made the lower earth, on which he dwelt with her. Her lack of conjugal love estranged his affections, and he determined

to create a new race of more obedient beings. A native legend records the creation of vegetables and of various kinds of animals, and, last of all, of man, who was made sinless, and without disease, or need of toil for the produce of the ground. Holding free communion with his Creator, he went about unclad and unhurt by the lower creation. But man was tempted by Tari, and fell, with the exception of a few who stood firm, and were therefore translated to heaven by Boora, and made partakers of his divinity. The remainder of mankind was subjected to death, the ground was cursed, animals became destructive, and flowers and fruits poisonous, and the conflict between good and evil commenced.

Thus far the Khonds agree in their creed as to the creation and fall of man; but here they branch off into two sects-the worshippers of Boora and the devotees of Tari. The sect of Boora hold that Tari is only able to act so as to promote the wishes of Boora, and as an instrument of his moral rule. The sect of Tari maintain that Boora cannot control her, and that she has the power of conferring every earthly good, as well as of inflicting every ill. Wishful that a moderate happiness should still be within the reach of man, Boora created three subordinate orders of gods to watch over human concerns. The first class sprang from Boora and Tari, and six of them preside respectively over Rain, Vegetation, Increase, the Chase, War, and Boundaries; the seventh sees justice done to the dead. The second rank consists of the sinless mortals of the golden age; and the third, of the progeny of the two superior classes of gods.

Dinga Pennu, the God of the Dead, lives on a mountain called the Leaping Rock, which lies beyond the seas, and to this the souls of the dead are driven. They are compelled to leap a dark unfathomable Styx, which girds it, alighting upon a smooth rock, slippery like a floor covered with mustard-seed. This dangerous leap occasions injuries and deformities; and the latter, and perhaps the former, are believed to be transmitted to the bodies into which they next transmigrate. On this rock sits Dinga, who is occupied night and day in writing upon it a record of the actions of every man during his life. Troops of shades are despatched by him to fulfil his just and inflexible award. The souls of the virtuous are admitted into Elysium, but those of the wicked go back to earth again to suffer in a new life the penalties of their guilt. To kill a foe, to die in battle, or as a victim to the earth-goddess, and to be a priest, entitle a soul to enter Elysium. Broken oaths, lies-except to save a guest-debt, incest, skulking in time of