It often happens that moths will come to sugar, even when not freshly painted on the trees. I remember once taking several Crimson Underwings (C. promissa), and several other things, on sugar which was painted on the trees by a collector four nights before I arrived at the spot. Butterflies and several other things are often attracted by sugared trees, whether old or fresh; and Dr. Knaggs says that by day several butterflies, chiefly Vanessidae, a group comprising the "Peacock," the "Tortoiseshell," the "Red Admiral," the "Painted Lady," and the "Camberwell Beauty," have a penchant for the sugar, and may, by this means, be enticed within our reach; and the "Purple Emperor" has thus been frequently entrapped.

Sugaring constantly in the same tract of woodland is certain ultimately to yield something out of the common, for moths have been proved to fly many miles in search of natural or artificial sweets, and even a barren locality may be made exceedingly productive by perseveringly sugaring it.

Some very curious things come to sugar now and then. Such insects as beetles, woodlice, slugs, etc, are expected as a matter of course, but toads, dormice, and bats—all attracted, however, I suspect, as much by the insects as the sugar—you do not expect, nor the sundry caterpillars which you occasionally can catch sipping at the sweet juice. The Hawk moths and Bombyces are popularly supposed not to come, but I have a distinct recollection of catching, near Woolwich, many years ago, a "goat moth" certainly "inspecting" the sugar, and analogous but isolated instances now and then occur.

In the grey of the morning, when sugaring is finished, it will be as well to keep your eye on the hedgerows or heaths you may pass, as occasionally certain insects swarm at an early hour, and now and then important captures may be made.

Before dismissing the subject of sugaring, it may be as well to say a few words on lanterns and chip boxes. With regard to the first, bull's eyes are generally recommended. Possibly, I may be prejudiced against them when I say that I think they concentrate the glare of light too suddenly and in too narrow a focus, causing thereby many insects to drop, which the broader stream of light from an ordinary lantern does not appear to do to such an extent.

I recommend, therefore, a medium-sized ordinary lantern, about 7 in. high by 4.5 in. by 3.5 in back to front, fitted with a double-wicked reservoir, holding sufficient oil to burn seven or eight hours. A screw cap should be fitted over the burners to prevent the oil running out and spoiling everything with which the lantern may be packed when travelling. The usual plate glass door should be made to open from the front, the glass sides, however, being replaced with bright metal, converging the rays from a strong reflector at the back; a swing handle should be fixed at the top and two at the back, all folding close to the lantern when not in use.

Plenty of ventilation, without allowing actual wind to penetrate, should be provided, and only the best colza oil be used. If made to order, a great advantage will be found in having the right-hand side to open outwards (from the back) instead of opening on the front, as the lantern can then be more easily trimmed when strapped on the body without the necessity of its removal for that purpose.

The chip boxes, which some entomologists use instead of the cyanide bottle to take the moths off the trees, are simply the various sized ointment boxes of the druggist, strengthened by papering, or by pieces of glued linen crossing them. Many use them, chiefly those of the old school, in preference to anything else—De gustibus, etc.

The objections to a general use of these boxes are many. First, you must provide yourself with a large bagful or pocketful of these boxes on starting out, as one moth only goes in each box, leaving one pocket empty on the reverse side of your coat to receive the boxes when filled, in order not to mix the empty with the full ones. Second, you are not quite sure at night as to "rubbed" or "chipped" specimens, and may find in the morning your boxes filled with worthless things, which a brief introduction to the cyanide bottle would long before have revealed.

Third, the most important fact, that though there are many insects which rest quietly when boxed, there is a large percentage which pass the time of their captivity in madly dashing themselves against the walls of their prison, and a boxed insect of this turn of mind presents a sorry sight in the morning, many stages, in fact, on the wrong side of "shabby-genteel." Then when, after a night's severe work, you are limping home in the morning, thinking how cold it is—until roused to action by the appearance of some unexpected insect—then, indeed, how much more cold and hollow seems the world, when, suddenly catching your tired foot in a stump or tangle of grass, you roll over on the full pocket side and hear (and feel) the boxes burst up on the unhappy moths within. I have gone through it all, and I don't like it!

ASSEMBLING—I had almost forgotten to mention another extraordinary way of catching moths (chiefly Bombyces), by what is called "assembling," which is exposing in a gauze-covered box a virgin female, who, by some mysterious power "calls" the males of the same species around her in so infatuated a manner that they will even creep into the collector's pocket in their quest of the hidden charmer.

In a highly interesting paper in the "Country," of 2nd Oct, 1873, Dr. Guard Knaggs gave a very full account of the theory and practice of "assembling," so interesting, indeed, that I venture to reproduce it in extenso. He says:

"The generally accepted theory is that each female should, at one or other period of her existence, captivate at least one of the opposite sex, though it will be found by experience that some species possess a far more potent influence for this purpose than others.

"It may be set down as a rule that females which are captured at rest during the time of day or night at which they should naturally be upon the wing are unimpregnated, and may be used for attracting with fair chances of success. There may be exceptions to this rule; my opinion inclines to the belief that the butterflies take wing before impregnation; but of this I am certain, namely, that the females of butterflies—at any rate of certain species—have considerable influence over the males.

Doubtless, too, there are many skittish Geometrae or slender-bodied moths, and Pyrales, or Pearls, which are easily frightened, the females of which will rush from their places of concealment even before they are prepared to start on the mission of ovipositing. The converse of this rule, that female insects captured on the wing are almost invariably impregnated, may be taken as an axiom, at least so far as the moth tribe is concerned.

Of course females which have made their appearance in our breeding cages are the most eligible for the purpose of attraction; but whenever we breed these with the intention of using them for attracting, we must bear well in mind that the rearing process, whether from the chrysalis, the caterpillar, or the egg, must be conducted under surrounding conditions of temperature, etc, as nearly as possible resembling those to which they would be subjected in their natural state. Otherwise, if we retard their appearance by keeping our breeding-cages in too cool a situation, we shall be too late for our sport, or at best capture only worn specimens; while, if we force them by an unnatural state of warmth, the males will not have made their appearance at large by the time we are ready to arrive upon the hunting-ground.

Having furnished ourselves with a bred female, the next procedure will be to construct a cage for her reception in such a manner that the males will be compelled to keep within a respectful distance, and formed of such material as will permit the air to readily permeate the sides of the prison.

Fig. 55—Assembling cage.

The cage (Fig. 55) adapted to our requirements is a very simple affair; it is formed by bending our three strips of cane of about equal lengths each into the form of a circle, and fixing them in that form by means of twine; these three circular pieces are then placed in such a manner that they cross one another at right angles (Fig. 55), thereby forming the rudimentary outline of a hollow sphere, over which it is an easy matter to stretch and tie a piece of leno. When required for use the female may be put in, either loose or clinging to a twig of the length of the diameter of the globe, and the leno tied afterwards.

"The theory of the peculiar action of the female upon the senses of the males is usually considered to be due to a subtle scent which emanates from her, and is wafted on the breeze to distant parts; and it is believed that by means of this scented track the males are enabled to discover the whereabouts of the object of their search. And that this would appear to be the true solution, no one who has witnessed the grand spectacle of the 'Kentish Glories' or the 'Emperor' moths coming up against the wind can, I should say, for a moment doubt.

"To be attractive the female must be in that condition which is known by the fraternity as 'calling,' that is, she should be slightly convulsed with tremor, and the last segment of the body should be denuded of fur. Then, if the weather be propitious—bright for such males as fly in the sunshine, warm at dusk for those whose hour of flight commences with the shades of evening—and if also the wind be blowing steadily from a favourable quarter, such as west, south, or a gentle south-west, we may reasonably hope for success.

"But the young collector must remember that it does not by any means follow that because he captures a female, say an 'Oak eggar,' on the wing in the evening, he has detected the time of flight of the males. In fact, it very frequently happens that the males fly in the daytime and the females in the evening.

"In the case of species which inhabit open parts of the country, such as moors, mosses, commons, chases, fens, and fields, we should take care that no obstacle is in the way to prevent the current of air from carrying the scent freely over the locality. On the other hand, if it be the inmates of a wood or copse which we are desirous of attracting, we must either select a ride down which the wind finds its way, or else we shall have to allow the breeze to convey the scent from some part of the surrounding country to the outskirts of the wood.

"As a rule, it is quite sufficient for our ends to lay the baited cage upon the ground, and then to lie down at a little distance off and keep watch. But in some cases it is advisable to tie the cage to the trunk or branch of a tree, or to fix it in a bush. I have found the latter very effective with the red-belted apple clearwing (Sesia myopiformis), and no doubt it would also prove so with other species of the class.

"Any Londoner who would like to judge for himself can easily manage it. He has only, in the first place, to hunt about in his own or some one else's garden for a handsome little caterpillar, of a blackish colour, spotted with pink, with four rows of thick tufts of yellowish hairs resembling brushes upon its back, with two long tufts of blackish hairs pointing forwards in front, almost like horns, and a similar one behind pointing backwards, something like a tail. It eats almost anything, and is easily reared.

When full fed it spins a web, in which it changes to a chrysalis; and, in time, from some of the cocoons thus formed, spider-like creatures will emerge and attach themselves to the outer part of the web. These should at once be removed (web and all), and placed securely in the cage already mentioned, when, if there be any males about, I will warrant it will not be long before the proprietor has a very tolerable idea of what is meant by attracting by the bred female."

COLLECTING AND REARING LARVAE.—Very many insects are more easily collected in the larval or caterpillar stage than in the perfect one. Every tree, bush, or plant, the grass, and even the lichens growing on trees or walls, produce some larvae feeding on it. It would, I feel, be a work of supererogation to attempt to give detailed descriptions of food-plants and the insects feeding on them, when we have a book so good and cheap to fall back on as "Merrin's Lepidopterist's Calendar," which gives the times of appearance of butterflies and moths in all their stages, with localities and the food-plants of the larvae, and this for every month of the year.

For bringing caterpillars home, a larvae box is necessary; this should, if possible, be made of a cylinder of wire gauze or perforated zinc (see Fig. 56), capped top and bottom with zinc, the bottom a fixture, the top to lift off, dished inward towards an orifice with a tube soldered in it, which is kept corked until it is wanted to drop larvae down it. The tube coming well through into the cylinder, and narrowing inside to half its diameter at the top, prevents anything escaping, even if the cork should be left out, and also prevents the swarming out of the enclosed larvae, which would take place if the top were lifted off bodily.

Wooden canisters, such as tobacco is often stored in, make very good substitutes if small holes are bored in the side. Tin canisters, or, indeed, anything made entirely of metal, unless plenty of ventilation is afforded, as in Fig. 56, have a tendency to cause the enclosed larvae to sweat.

Some few hints as to collecting larvae may not be unacceptable. In the spring, just as the buds of various low plants and bushes break forth, they should be searched by night, by the aid of a lantern, for the larvae of various noctuae and geometrae then feeding. The best plants to search will be the mountain ash, bilberry, honeysuckle, and bramble, given in their order of merit. Many other plants may be advantageously searched, in fact, all low plants and bushes ought to be well looked over by the persevering collector.

Later on, sweeping, i.e, pushing a strong ring net through the grass, may be resorted to. The net for this should be made of strong wire in the shape of the net at Fig. 46, or 43, if without the joints, a bag of strong dowlas and a stick are attached, and the front square-ended part is pushed by the collector through the grass, in order to trap any low feeding or invisible insects. When the leaves are fully out on the trees, beating will shake many larvae, pupae, certain moths, beetles, etc, into the net or sheet spread to receive them, Both sweeping and beating may be practised by night as by day.

The situations in which larvae are found are many, some rolling themselves in nettle, oak, or other leaves; others boring into the substance of the wood itself, and some feeding in the stems of various bushes, plants, reeds, etc. For life histories of such consult the pages of the Entomologist's Monthly Magazine, or Entomologist, both published every month at 6d. each; or Newman's "British Butterflies" and "British Moths," published as complete volumes at. 7s. 6d. and 20s. respectively. These latter are the finest works at the price in any language whatever, giving figures—perfect specimens of the wood engraver's art—of the whole of the Macro-Lepidoptera, backed up by exhaustive descriptions.

Fig. 56—Cage for collecting larvae.

"Digging" in the dead months of the year, when the weather is mild, for pupae, is another method of getting insects. Corners where roots meet or spring from the trunks of trees, are good "harbours of refuge" for pupae; so are inner angles of walls, underneath sheltered hedgerows, or under isolated trees in parks or meadows, and a host of other spots.

The best places for "digging" are not always, as you would suppose, in the thickest parts of woods or shrubberies, but under skirting trees or in avenues. The best times for pupae are from October to January. Many people attain great proficiency in finding—the Rev. Joseph Greene, to wit. For my own part I must confess that I have never "earned my salt" at it, but that is possibly due to want of skill or perseverance.

The tools required are simply a trowel, a curved piece of steel fitted in a handle, or a three-cornered instrument similar to, but smaller than, the scraper used by shipwrights; anything, in fact, handy to carry, and efficacious in scratching up the sod at the roots of trees, or tearing off the pseudo-knots of bark which veil the pupae of various moths.

When larvae or pupae are brought home, it will be necessary to place them in something which, though retaining them in captivity, yet allows them as natural conditions of living as is possible in a circumscribed space. Pupae, may be kept in a flower pot covered with earth, or in moss damped from time to time with water of not too cold a temperature. Over the flower pot may be strained two pieces of wire or cane, crossing each other in the form of arches, the whole covered with muslin; or a handier plan to get to the insects quickly when emerged, or to damp the pupae, is to procure from the glass merchant the waste cylinders of glass cut from shades, pasting over one end with "leno" or muslin, and placing the other in the flower pot on top of the earth or moss.

This also makes a cheap substitute for the breeding cage for larvae, if a little earth only is put in the flower pot in which a bottle of water is placed containing the food plant. Wire gauze cylinders are handy as affording plenty of air to delicate larvae. Bandboxes with a square piece cut out from the top lid, the hole thus made covered with muslin, will do very well for breeding a quantity of a hardy common sort.

Fig. 57—Insect breeding cage

The usual wooden breeding cage is shown at Fig. 57. This requires hardly any explanation: A is a glass door, B B B are sides and top of perforated zinc, C is a tray fitting inside, where dotted lines are shown, to hold the earth in which the bottle of water holding food is placed, or where the larvae bury themselves to change to pupae. Properly, the inner tray of box C should be constructed of zinc perforated with a few holes at the bottom, in order that it may be lifted out to allow the pupae to be well damped when "forcing." [Footnote: For those larvae of butterflies and moths which do not require earth, it will be sufficient to have a zinc pan, with covered top perforated with holes, in which the stalks of the food plants be inserted in the water which fills the pan, whose covering prevents the insects from drowning themselves therein.]

"Forcing" is a method adopted to cause any moth to emerge at the collector's will, and several months before its proper time, it having been proved that certain moths more than others die in the chrysalis or pupa state if left to go their full time, notably the "Death's Head," the "Spurge," and other hawks. The best time for forcing is about Christmas, and the conditions are simply heat and moisture, the pupae being placed over a spirit lamp, in a hothouse, on the kitchen mantelpiece, or by the fire grate even, kept for a week or so at a temperature of 85 deg. or thereabout, and constantly damped with moss wrung out in warm water. Bear in mind that heat without moisture will not do by any means.

The breeding cage itself need not be used, but only the tray, provided that gauze is stretched over in such a manner as to allow room for the moth to dry its wings on emergence. But if the whole of the breeding cage were made of framed zinc (such as aquaria are made of), and the glass and perforated zinc fixed in, the cost, though greater at first, would be more than counterbalanced by its greater strength, with lightness and capability of resisting wear and tear, added to which is the advantage of being used as a whole during the operation of "forcing," wood not standing, of course, the heat and moisture necessary. Breeding cages should not be painted.

Fresh food, and plenty of it, should, if possible, be supplied to the larvae. Dry food is, as a rule, the best, though the larvae of one or two of the foreign Saturnidae require their food to be sprinkled with water, and sometimes even with the addition of salt, to make them thrive. Moths on emergence should not be killed at once, as they are then too flaccid, and have not sufficiently purged themselves. Yet they should not be left too long or over night, as they often fly at that time, and knock themselves about in the cage, to the detriment of their beauty; destroying, in fact, the whole aim and end of breeding, which is of course, instituted to procure specimens for the cabinet as fine as it is possible to get them.

In collecting insects it is always as well to bear in mind that a "worn" female, though not of the slightest use to the entomologist, unless she can be induced to lay in confinement, may become the progenitor of many, and may thus afford you during the next season great pleasure in collecting. This being so, I should like to impress upon my readers (the young especially) the propriety of giving all insects, not actually noxious, heir liberty, if on examination they prove to be useless as specimens. These remarks apply also to the case of hybernated females. Many female insects, though unwilling to lay in confinement, may be watched at large, and the flowers and plants on which they have from time to time rested, searched for their eggs.

In concluding this chapter, I feel that I might have said much more upon nearly every section—have explained many new "dodges," and so forth, were it not that the limit of space has been reached. One thing, however, may be noted as an omission, and that is the recommendation as to what books should be procured by the young entomologist. This is so difficult a matter—depending entirely upon the aim of the individual—that I prefer to leave it an open question, merely making the general statement that nearly all our advanced systems are founded upon the labours of German and French entomologists. [Footnote: Mr. Wm. Wesley. Essex Street Strand, London, publishes monthly a "Natural History Book Circular," which he will send to naturalists if asked.]

CHAPTER XVI.

ON NATURAL HISTORY MUSEUMS, WITH SPECIAL REFERENCE TO A NEW SYSTEM OF PICTORIAL ARRANGEMENT OF VERTEBRATES.

I MUST confess that, at one time, the consideration of the best method of dealing to advantage with the limited space usually existing in the older provincial museums would have dismayed me. Even at that time, however, I had glimmerings of the brighter light which has since illumined the way, and I was, perhaps, aided by the persistent manner in which I haunted museums both abroad and at home, until at last I never went on a journey without managing to break it, or to make it end at the then summum bonum of my happiness—a museum. Like Diogenes, I went about with my lamp to find, not an honest man, but an honest museum—a museum with some originality, and with some definite idea as to its sphere of work. Leaving out, of course, such complete and technical institutions as the Museum of Geology, the Museum of the College of Surgeons, and such institutions which really have a motive in view—steadfastly adhered to—I saw, then as now, that every provincial museum was nothing if left to its own devices, and, if "inspired," was, at the best, but a sorry and servile imitator of the worst points of our national museum.

Everyone must have observed, no doubt, in any provincial museum which dates back thirty or forty years, that the great curse of the collection, so to speak, is sketchy versatility. In walking through the usually "dry-as-dust" collections you find numbers of very atrociously-rendered mammals, a greater sprinkling of funereal and highly-disreputable birds, some extremely-protracted fishes, some chipped insects, and a lot of shells, chiefly marine, which suggest association with the word "stores." I allude to those odds and ends which people do not want themselves, and which are, therefore, so kindly brought as an offering—would I might say a "burnt" one—to any institution so reckless of consequences as to admit them.

Nearly all museums of early days were imitators of the British Museum, whilst those of later days affect the newer treatment of South Kensington. Hence, in walking through any museum, a technical observer can easily detect the sources of inspiration and the lines of demarcation between the old and the new. Really it amounts to this, that hardly any institution in England thinks for itself. Museum authorities, like sheep, follow the lead of the most ancient bell-wether; and the reason of this is not far to seek. Curators, as a rule, are men with one hobby—"one-horse" men, as the Americans so aptly put it—"sometimes wise, sometimes otherwise," but in many cases totally devoid of that technical education so much needed in reconciling the divergent atoms of the institutions they represent; in fact, head and hand seldom work together.

Often, owing to the want of technical advice, money is wasted in more than one department, cases are too highly paid for, and have not been thought out sufficiently as to their fitness for their future contents, or the position in which they are to be placed, or the more fatal error has been perpetrated of considering them as merely units of a certain department instead of parts of a whole. I contend that if it be necessary for a civil engineer or other professional man to have mastered the various technicalities of his profession, it is also incumbent on curators to have done or to do likewise, in order that they may grasp the treatment of their museum as a whole, and not fall into the grave fault of working up one department whilst ignoring the others.

Nothing is more distasteful to my mind than that a man in the position of a curator should impertinently ride one single hobby to death, to the utter exclusion and detriment of all other branches of knowledge entrusted to his care. What is the sum total of this? In looking around any museum of old standing we see twenty different styles and colours of cases, which may be briefly summarized as representing the eocene, miocene, and pliocene formation of cases; space has been wasted, or not utilized as it might be, and the result is a confused jumble of odds and ends, consequent on some persons considering that the end and aim of a museum should be the preservation of "bullets" collected by "Handy-Andy" from the field of "Arrah-na-Pogue," "My Grandfather's Clock," and so on.

This is certainly not the mission of any museum, nor should it lay itself out with avidity to collect disjointed scraps of savage life, such as portraits of the "ladies" who ate cold savage and who—horresco referens!—"drank his blood." [Footnote: A fact!]

Such a museum object as this, awfully, yet ludicrously, reminds me of that showman who enticed his audience in with—"Here you'll see the Duke of Vellington at the battle of Vauterloo, with the blood all a-runnen down his fut,"' or of poor little "Totty" (in "Helen's Babies"), who loved to hear about "B'liaff" and his headlessness, and the sword that was all "bluggy." This is, I think, one of the mistakes which most museums fall into. They collect a vast quantity of rubbish utterly useless to anyone but a schoolboy or a showman, and in consequence they find valuable space wasted to make way for tops of teapots, bits of leather, Kaffirs' or Zulus' knives made in Sheffield, native ornaments, in beads and brass, made in Birmingham, and such-like members of the great family of "curios." All such as these should be firmly and respectfully declined without thanks. [Footnote: When I first came to the Leicester Museum I was requested to present to the Museum and enclose in a suitable receptacle—No. 1, a piece of thick leather, which the donor thought "just the right thickness for the heel of a boot;" and No. 2 a teapot lid with no particular history, only that—as the dame who brought it phrased it—"maybe it's summat old."]

I have spoken, in somewhat sacrilegious terms, of imitation of the worst points of the old British Museum and of South Kensington (I don't mean the new Natural History Galleries, but artistic South Kensington); but perhaps I may be forgiven when I state that I consider, and always considered, the weakest part of our old natural history galleries at Bloomsbury was the arrangement of all the mammals, birds, etc, in that provokingly "fore-and-aft" manner (spoken of before), on uninteresting stands or perches (hat-pegs) such as the skeletons in Plates II. and III. are represented on.

This, which was, perhaps, inevitable in a national collection professedly showing to the public every species of bird and mammal in the least possible space, is unpardonable in a provincial museum, which has not the task imposed upon it of attempting to vie with the national collection in point of numbers. Provincial museums, then, if electing to show only animals collected in their immediate vicinity or county (which some authorities—of whom anon—say is the only raison d'etre of a provincial museum), or, if electing to supplement these by showing a few foreign forms of striking appearance, fall into grievous error by mounting the necessarily few specimens they can get together on "hat-pegs," simply because the national collection, with which they are not on "all fours," sets them the bad example in this.

Now for South Kensington: the imitation I decry is that of black, or black-and-gold cases, suitable the exhibition of art treasures, but objectionable for natural history objects, which, usually dreary enough in their abject condition on pegs, are rendered more funereal by their black, or black-and-gold surroundings; yet, with these obvious disadvantages, what do we see in some provincial museums?—a servile adoption of South Kensington "ebonized" cases, without any reference to fitness. It is positively painful to see elaborately carved and gilded cases, costing, perhaps, a hundred guineas a-piece, entombing a few wretchedly-mounted specimens worth, perhaps, less than L5 the lot.

I have technical objections to "ebonized" cases, which I am sure have been lost sight of by all but the makers of such articles. These are—first, that if deal, or pine, or common cedar is used to make the cases with, they will shrink, lose colour, or be easily chipped or dinted, becoming in a short time useless and shabby; and, on the other hand, if made by first-class makers out of good mahogany, afterwards blacked or "ebonized," their price is enormous, and out of all proportion to their appearance, added to which they get worn on their edges in a short time and show the mahogany underneath in reddish, rust-coloured streaks on their most prominent parts.

How ridiculous, then, does it seem to cover up serviceable and handsome (and expensive) mahogany with a coat of black simply for the sake of getting an effect which is, to say the least, depressing!

Well, you will say, you have fallen foul of the fundamental principles of nearly all museums—black cases, and animals on "hat-pegs." What do you propose?

I propose, in the first place, mahogany, walnut, or oak cases; and, in the second place, the pictorial mounting of all specimens, and not only do I propose it, but I claim in the Leicester Museum to have done on a large scale what has hitherto been applied to small matters only. First, as to the wood; I delight in oak, and, although I know how much more liable it is to "twist" than first-class mahogany, yet if of good picked quality, dry and sound, and properly tongued and framed, there is not much to fear, and its light and elegant appearance is a great gain in a large room, added to this it improves by age and is practically indestructible.

Now for the pictorial mounting of specimens; and here let me say that, for any person to lay down a hard-and-fast line as to what natural history specimens should be, or should not be, collected by provincial natural history museums as a whole, is about as sensible a plan as saying that a nation as a whole must drink nothing but beer or nothing but water. It is apparently forgotten that general principles cannot apply to museums ranging in size from 20 ft. by 12 ft. to that of Liverpool with its several large rooms, each one larger than the entire "museum" of small towns.

I think it may be laid down as a common-sense proceeding that, if a provincial museum consists of only one or two rooms of the size above given, the managers should strictly confine themselves to collecting only the fossils, animals, and plants of their own district. If, however, like Leicester, they possess a zoological room 80 ft. in length by 40 ft. in width, and of great height, together with smaller rooms, then the proposition to strictly confine themselves to local forms is unwise in the extreme. How would it be possible to fill so much cubic space with the few specimens—even if extended unwarrantably, and elaborately mounted—which many years of arduous collecting might obtain? Taking the list of vertebrates of any midland county, how many of them do we find could be collected if we left out of count the "accidentals?" Here is a list: Fishes, 26; reptiles, 10; birds, 110; mammals, 26 (the fox being the largest of these). [Footnote: About 80 only, of the 110, breed in any given midland district.]

It would be impossible to fill the wall-cases, if properly proportioned, with these few, even given all the favourable conditions of procuring the "accidentals" and varieties, under ten years. It is quite true, also, that the contemplation of purely local fauna, though giving interest to, and holding undue importance in the eyes of a few men, who narrow their views to their own county (which, perhaps, they believe in to such an extent as to seldom pass its boundaries), is misleading and even possibly damaging to the student of biology, who must be shown, in the clearest possible manner, the affinities—say, of such a well-known bird as the heron, which a local collection will tell him, by means of a huge and unblushing label, is a "Blankshire bird," shot somewhere in the vicinity; not a word is said as to its being also a "British" bird and also a "Foreign" bird, the heron ranging throughout every county in Britain, throughout Europe, the greater part of Africa and Asia, and even penetrating into Australia.

The remedy for this is a typical "general" collection—running around the room, let us say—and a "local" collection entirely distinct and separate.

First, in the structural necessities of a museum, I place well-lighted rooms—preferably from the top. Of course, side windows, though giving an increase of light, yet by that very increase become objectionable by making cross lights, which the sheets of glass enclosing the various objects tend to multiply; next, the colour of the walls—this is very important. Some museums have blue or Pompeian-red walls, under the impression that it suits certain objects; in the instances of pictures or statuary, etc, it may be right, but, for natural history objects, nothing suits them and shows them up better than a light neutral tint—one of the tertiaries—lightened considerably, until it arrives at a light stone, very light sage, or pale slate colour. [Footnote: The Leicester Museum, when I first came to it, had the walls of its chief room, the then "Curiosity shop," painted dull dark red, cut up by twenty-four pilasters of ad deep green in imitation of marble; the ceiling bad not been whitened for twenty years, and the birds and animals on "hat-pegs," in cases with small panes of glass, etc, were frightfully contrasted by a backing of crude, deep ultramarine-blue! Three primary colours. Could human perversity and bad taste go much further?]

The pilasters, if any, must be ignored, and blended into the walls by being painted of the same colour as the remainder; otherwise, the first things which strike the observer on entering are the walls and pilasters, and not the objects; whereas the impression to be secured on the mind should be exactly the reverse of this, for be sure that, if the colour of the walls be noticed at all by the casual visitor, something is radically wrong. This is one of the reasons why I prefer light oak wall-cases to anything else, by their being so unobtrusive, and not dividing the room so sharply into squares as the black and gold. I venture to say that the first thing noticeable on entering the zoological-room at Leicester is the form and colour of the objects, and this is as it should be.

Having now got light in the rooms from the top and, possibly, from the north, supplemented by, and radiating from, the light walls and ceiling, we, having our oak cases in position, must glaze them with as large sheets of plate glass as are manageable or as we can afford; a very handy size is-say, 8 ft. in height by 5 ft. 4 in. in breadth, this prevents cutting up the enclosed specimens by many bars, enclosing small panes, so prevalent in the older museums, also, of course, adding greatly to the general effect. The backs of the wall cases should be, if the specimens are mounted on pegs, of some light tint slightly contrasting with that of the walls, or, if the specimens are to be pictorially treated, with softly graduated skies applicable to each group.

Perhaps a sketch of the treatment of the zoological-room of Leicester Museum would help the reader to grasp the facts of the case better. In the first place, the walls were cut for more windows, at a height of 12 ft. above the floor, the top light not being sufficient nor properly available, nor end lights obtainable, owing to the structural defects of the existing building; the ceiling was then whitewashed, and walls painted of a nice warm stone colour, quite unobtrusive in itself; the artificial light was provided for by twelve gas pendants of twenty-four lights each, i.e, eight arms, each holding three burners. The heating—a most important matter, not only for the comfort of visitors, but for the proper preservation of the specimens—was managed by hot-water coils running around the walls under the cases. [Footnote: I am not at all sure if the artificial lighting of wall cases is not best managed by gas arms shaded from the eye of the spectator, and throwing their light into the cases by a hi similar arrangement to that adopted for lighting jewellers' and other shops from the outside.]

The cases themselves were framed in oak, rising 10 ft. from the floor, thus—1 ft. 3.5 in. of plinth and frames, enclosing panelled gratings to allow the hot air to escape; on this the wooden bottoms of the range was built; then 3.5 in. and 3 in. frame at bottom and top, enclosing 7 ft. 6 in. space for glass, and 8 in. frieze moulding; the divisions of each were arranged to suit the space at disposal to represent all orders of vertebrates.

The doors or sashes were round-headed and glazed with plate glass, three plates of which were 7 ft. 6 in. by 4 ft. 4.5 in.; eight, 7 ft. 6 in. by 4 ft. 6 in.; eleven, 7 ft. 6 in. by 5 ft. 1 in.; eleven, 7 ft. 6 in. by 5 ft. 2.5 in.; one, 7 ft. 6 in. by 4 ft. 7.5 in.; and three, 7 ft. 6 in. by 4 ft. 1 in.; thirty-seven plates in all. All but twelve of the cases were 2 ft. 6 in. from back to front, these twelve being 3 ft. from back to front, all glazed at the top, to admit light, by glass fixed in iron T-pieces at intervals of 2 ft. 6 in, making two divisions.

To these, two cases were subsequently added; one, 7 ft. 6 in. by 2 ft. 6 in.; the other, 7 ft. 6 in. by 6 ft. The division frames, being rebated and lined with "moleskin," had the sashes, previously glazed from the inside, lifted in and screwed to them, the screw heads being hidden by turned "buttons" of oak. I objected to these doors or sashes being hung in the ordinary manner, it being so difficult to hinge large and weighty frames without danger of "twisting" or of straining the surrounding parts, to say nothing of the almost impossibility of keeping dust from getting in through hinged doors; accordingly it was felt that, although there might be a little inconvenience in unscrewing the eight or ten screws which held them in their places, yet that the trouble of their removal, not being an every-day occurrence, in any instance, would be more than compensated by the increased strength, and air and dust-proof advantages.

(That these predictions were justified is proved by the fact that the cases, being filled, were opened at the end of 1883 to allow of their contents being photographed-without the intervention of glass-and the air which then issued from them was strongly charged with turpentine and other agents used about the birds, and the rockwork, nearly two years before, whilst not a particle of dust was observable anywhere.)

These cases were, as regards workmanship, strongly and well made by a local man, working under my direction, and although, of course, lacking the minute finish of such champions of case-making as Sage, yet, taking into consideration that quite 300 pounds was saved in the construction, we may be fairly proud of our success.

Regarding the classification of the vertebrates, it was admitted on all hands that we might take Huxley as our standpoint; but I felt that, in this age of specialists, we ought to be guided by those who, taking the labours of the leading physiologists and men of science for their groundwork, compiled, so to speak, from these results, and being anatomists and men of great learning themselves, were generally accepted throughout the world as the leading exponents of the branch of biology they represented.

Accordingly the plan was sketched out, and, selecting Professor W. H. Flower, F.R.S, the president of the College of Surgeons, for the mammals; Dr. P. 1. Sclater, F.R.S, secretary of the Zoological Society, for the birds; and Dr. a. C. Guenther, F.R.S, chief of the British Museum, for the reptiles and fishes, I submitted my plans to each gentleman, who did me the honour to return them corrected where necessary. Since then I have slightly modified where the latest views of these great men have undergone some slight change; and now the scheme of our zoological room is as in the accompanying plan (see Plate).

Of course, for purposes of convenience and reference, a linear arrangement has been adopted, but it will not be necessary to point out that no actual linear arrangement can exist in nature, the chain being broken, not only in links, but by large portions being twisted off. Rather may we liken biology to a tree whose branches ramify in many directions from the main trunk of life.

The classification—superseding the old, unscientific Vigorsian and other systems, founded on external characteristics—being decided on, the style of mounting of the specimens had to be settled. The "peg" system was to be discarded; but here occurred the most serious hitch of all. In accordance with the plan now being pursued in many provincial museums, it was wished by one party to elevate the local exhibits into undue importance, at the expense of general zoology, by taking up much more of the room at disposal than was practicable or necessary.

Plate V. Arrangements of vertebrates in Zoological Room.

The suggestion was to furnish cases of a certain size, one or more of which was to be devoted to each order of animals. Taking birds (for convenience) as the standpoint, we were to place on the ground line "local" birds, male and female, with nest and young, and eggs, mounted with appropriate accessories, in the most complete and artistic manner. This division taking up 3 ft. 6 in. in height out of a possible 8 ft, leaving 4 ft. 6 in. to be disposed of thus—another division for "British" birds which have never been found in the locality.

These "British" were to be in pairs, but not very well mounted, and without nests and young. Above these, again, another line, exhibiting a few of the most striking typical foreign birds. These "Foreign" birds were not to be well mounted, but plain "stuffed." It was claimed for this that "each order would be distinct, and that there would be the best opportunity of comparing the local birds with those of Britain generally and of the whole world, while a real notion of the life of birds would be conveyed by the full portraiture of those forms with which the local visitors would be most familiar, making them distinct items of knowledge in a manner scarcely ever attempted, and, in fact, almost impossible with the usual methods of arrangement.

It is an elastic system, admitting of many variations, while retaining the fundamental principle; and of all really effective systems it is the least expensive, because it depends mainly upon objects procurable in the locality. The Leicestershire species should occupy the ground line, and come up to the front. The British species should be set back 8 in. to 12 in, and the Foreign 15 in. to 18 in.; but these limits might be occasionally infringed where it seems necessary."

To give the reader an idea of how disproportionate these divisions would be when comparing "local" with "foreign," see the diagram (Fig. 58), representing one division or "bay" marked on Plan.

Fig. 58—Projected arrangement of a biological collection by "Scheme A."

Again, it was urged that "The three sections should be divided horizontally, but the lines of division need not be straight. They may be broken so as to preserve the pictorial effect, but not to destroy the division."

Regarding this part of the contention, it is only necessary to point out that no "pictorial effects" were possible under such a system, which is really a lucus a non lucendo.

By this scheme, we have "local" birds at bottom (very well arranged), "British" next (not so well arranged), and "foreign" at top (not well arranged at all), and these arbitrary and totally unnatural divisions were supposed to "drive home the truths of natural history into the minds of casual visitors," to be "applicable to all the departments of a museum, so that, if it were adopted, a uniform plan might be carried through the collections from end to end, giving a systematic completeness which is rarely found in museums at the present time. It utilises the breaks and blank spaces in every series."

Never was there a more impracticable theory broached. The whole arrangement was based on an utter disregard of the requirements of science, leaving out art altogether, and, worse still, upon an utter ignorance of first principles of zoology. May I ask if anyone can define a "local" bird from a "British" bird, or a "British" bird from a "foreign" bird? Lastly, every one should know that every bird found in Leicestershire is a "British" bird, and that every "British" bird is a "foreign" one; and that each of these imaginary divisions is being constantly recruited from the division immediately above it. [Footnote: There are but two birds belonging to the Paridae (Titmice), which are claimed as being peculiar to Britain; and these merely on the ground of being climatic varieties—hardly sufficient to warrant the founding of new "species."]

For instance, the golden eagle is not a "local" bird, but it may be so to-morrow, should one stray from North Britain, as they sometimes do, and be shot by some person within the boundary of the county. It then becomes "local"! This bird, which is as distinctly "foreign"—being found in Europe, North Africa, America, etc.—as it is "British"! Put this in, or leave it out of the "local" division, and what does it teach?

Arguing per contra, the osprey has been killed in our own county more than once; it is thus "local;" it is also "British," nesting in North Britain; it is also distinctly "foreign," being found positively in every quarter of the globe—in Australia even—sharing with the common barn owl the distinction of being actually cosmopolitan.

In which division are we to place this? It is "local," and yet cannot be mounted in that division, with its nest and young, because it has never bred in the Midlands; but it has bred in North Britain, and might be shown in the "British" division fully displayed; but, says this contention, which I have called "Scheme A," no "British" specimens shall be mounted with nest and young!

Being "foreign," it should also come in the "Foreign" division. What, then, can this teach? Either the bird must be repeated in all three divisions, or it must, according to the foregoing, appear only in the "local" division, thus acting an ornithological lie, and leading the unlearned to believe that it is a very rare bird, peculiar only to Leicestershire. These examples might be repeated ad nauseam. The sparrow, the swallow, the kingfisher, the heron, the wild duck, the wood-pigeon, the pheasant, the coot, the woodcock, the terns, the gulls, etc, are some common forms which occur to me.

Again, there are five orders of birds not represented in Leicestershire, nor in England even. These contain nearly five hundred species. Are these to be entirely eliminated from the collection? or does it teach anything to put cards in the "Local" or "British" divisions of the parrot cases to say that no parrots occur (out of cages) in either Leicestershire or Britain? Again, what can this teach?

Well, we will take a representative group—say, the order Gallinae, or game-birds, and, taking our own county of Leicestershire as an example, we shall find that, although there are nearly four hundred species of this order known, but eleven at the very outside are claimed as having occurred in Britain, whilst but three of these are commonly found in the county. I give their names and values under each heading:

LOCAL.

BRITISH.

FOREIGN.

Ptarmigan

No.

Yes.

Yes.

Red Grouse

Has occurred.

Yes.

Yes.[Footnote: Formerly indigenous to Britain, but now found in Sweden, etc.]

Capercaillie

No.

Yes.

Yes.

Black Grouse

Has occurred.

Yes.

Yes.

Pheasant

Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

Red-legged Partridge

Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

Barbary Partridge

Said to have once occurred

Doubtful.

Yes.

Partridge

Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

Virginian Colin

No.

Doubtful.

Yes.

Quail

Has occurred.

Yes.

Yes.

Andalusian Hemipode

No.

Doubtful.

Yes.

Or, putting it into a tabular form, as if supposing that the whole four hundred known species could be shown, we should have it presented thus: ORDER—GALLINAE.

(400 SPECIES.)

389

. . . . . . . .400

FOREIGN.

8 . . . .

. . . . 11

. . . . . . . . . . . .

BRITISH.

3 . . . .

. . . . . . . .

. . . . . . . . . . . .

LOCAL.

That is to say, that, although it was wished to claim the 3 ft. 6 in. division in height, of indefinite length (really ten feet when worked out) for the three "local" birds, yet it will be seen by the foregoing tables that those three "locals" would do equally as well if placed in the "British" division, and the sum total of the "local" and "British" might be placed correctly with all the rest in the "foreign." Why, then, should valuable space be wasted for three birds, simply to perpetuate an error in working out a crotchet?

The question again arose, What could such a "model" system as this teach? This was effectually answered by a specimen case, representing the above, being fitted up, when the glaring errors of the proposed system were at once evident, there being fully a space of 10 ft. x 3 ft. 6 in. x 2 ft. 6 in. = 87.5 ft. cube, devoted to five birds only—three of which were not now found in the county. These represented the "locals." In the "British" division, of 10 ft. in length x 2 ft. 6 in. in height x 1 ft. 6 in. back to front, viz, a cube of 37.5 ft. there appeared but six others—three of which were doubtful. Furthermore, as if to point to the crowning absurdity of the whole scheme, but 10 ft. x 2 ft. x 1 ft. = 20 ft. cube, was provided for the great remainder of the "foreign" specimens, nearly thirty-seven times as numerous as both "local" and "British" combined.

Now for the cheapness of the system advocated. In the first place, local specimens of rare birds are not cheap. For instance, anyone can get a foreign specimen of—say, the honey buzzard—for about 8s. but a locally-killed specimen would be very likely to cost several pounds. As for the "elasticity" of such a system, if it is meant that it will stretch any way but the right, I agree, but if meant to be applied to any department of natural history it is distinctly wrong.

Let us take the case of the invertebrates, nearly all of which, as the birds, have a wide range. Many instances occur to me, but one will be sufficient, Vanessa Antiopa, the "Camberwell Beauty" butterfly. Now this insect has been taken three times (perhaps more?) in the county, and I suppose it has occurred in nearly every county in England, but as it is found also commonly throughout the greater part of Europe, parts of Africa, Asia, and America, we are confronted by the unpleasant reminder, "what shall we do with it" under the system proposed?

It is, according to that theory, "local," "British," and "foreign;" it is rarest as "local," being, of course, of accidental occurrence; yet it is proposed to show it only in that division, to the extent of ignoring the two other divisions which have manifestly a greater claim on it. If this, then, were adhered to, the student would at once have presented to him an incorrect view of the distribution of species.

One other way only is there out of the difficulty, which is to show a specimen of the same insect in all three divisions; but this would, though more correct, be as embarrassing to understand, to say nothing of the loss of space involved, because the same thing would have to be repeated with nearly every invertebrate possessed by a museum arranged on these lines.

The proper way, I contend, to give real information is to shake off all insular prejudice and not call things by their wrong names, i.e. claim as "British," things which are not essentially so. To this end I have labelled the butterfly in question:

VANESSA. ANTIOPA, 1.

(Camberwell Beauty.)

Range: Asia, Africa, America,

Europe generally, including Britain (rarely),

and has occurred in Leicestershire three times.

This, I am quite sure, is the proper method to educate the public, who cannot understand, or are misled by, such crudities as placing specimens in arbitrary divisions such as "Local," "British," and "Foreign."

The same rule applies to the plants; and I remember a case occurring, but a short time since when a young botanist, wishing to name a few plants collected abroad (in Europe), came to our herbarium, modelled on these misleading lines, and at once turned to the "Foreign" division to find specimens by which to compare his own. An hour was wasted in trying to puzzle some of them out, and he then came to me saying, "You hav'n't got them."

At once I saw he had things of world-wide distribution, and turning, much to his amazement, to the "Local" division, found them for him. All this comparison, and waste of time and temper, might have been saved had the plants been arranged in their proper orders and families, irrespective of imaginary divisions, with a label attached stating their range and if occurring locally.

Leaving biology now, we shall see how this "elastic system" can "be carried through the collections from end to end." Take the rocks as an example. Is it real science—or what is it—which would label syenite a "Leicestershire" rock? Such queries and replies could be multiplied ad infinitum, for it will be observed that I have said nothing about the mammals, where the loss of space and want of cohesion in such a group as the carnivora—best represented of all in "local"—are patent. The fishes—fancy a "local" salmon! yet they occasionally run up the rivers.

But I need not enlarge on this, further than to say that under this "elastic" system it was gravely proposed to pictorially mount the "local" freshwater fishes under the sea fishes, not because it was a direct violation of the physics of salt and fresh water, but because the "local" division must come in its place at the bottom of the range of cases! I had almost forgotten to say that these precious divisions were to be made self-evident to the bucolic intellect even, by means of colour—thus, "Local" was to be brownish-red rock; "British," green; and "Foreign," blue; and these colours were, without reference to any artistic considerations such as the laws of contrast in colour, or light and shade, to be rigidly adhered to, and to be carried in distinct, if "wavy" bands, all around the room.

Fortunately, it was pointed out that shelves of wood would carry out that idea more effectually than playing with science and art in such a manner, therefore these absurd propositions were promptly discarded. And now, having described what I take to be the evils to be guarded against in plain or "pictorial" mounting, if founded on such lines as those in the scheme I have called "A," I will briefly sketch out what I take to be the lines of the museum of the future.

I must confess I had thought a great deal of arranging the vertebrata in zoo-geographical order, in a manner founded on a. R. Wallace's great and concise work on the "Geographical Distribution of Animals." It seemed to me a fairly comprehensive and scientific, certainly a novel, method of treatment, and I had gone so far as to sketch out several of my groups, when I was confronted by difficulties, and saw that it was not a system which was thoroughly coherent throughout the whole of the collections, and I finally abandoned it, on the advice of Dr. Sclater, the originator, I believe, of the "zoo-geographical divisions."

I wanted a system which might be carried out throughout the whole biological collections, and this end was best gained by arranging them in zoological order, so far as is possible in these days, when the microscope tells us that a plant may be an animal, or vice versa, or that an organism may be a plant now and something very like an animal a short time after (see Saville Kent on the "myxomycetes").

With the plants and invertebrates this was comparatively easy, for though, as I have before pointed out, no linear arrangement is correct, yet in a small museum the "table cases" for invertebrates must run on in lines, and the mounting, owing to their enormous numbers and usually small size, must be tabular, and not pictorial (except, of course, in rare instances).

I was aware that several naturalists had "laid down the law" as to the position to be taken by local museums, and that notably Mr. John Hopkinson, of the Watford Natural History Society, had written his views upon the subject; but these views are, I think, probably somewhat narrowed by the small size of the museum he had in mind whilst writing. Though agreeing with him in the main, I considered that very few provincial museums, excepting Liverpool, could boast of having anything like so large a space for the exhibition of specimens as we possessed in our zoological room.

It may be taken, therefore, for granted, that what was written specially to suit the requirements of Watford is not of the slightest use when sought to be applied to larger museums. When, however, Mr. Hopkinson quotes the opinions of such well-known scientists as Professors Flower, Rudler, Dr. Sclater, and other practical workers, his compilation becomes of some value.

Professor Rudler, it will be seen, points out that, however full and perfect a local collection may be, it would teach nothing if narrowed down to purely local limits, and that, therefore, it must be broadened for the sake of comparison; and he very properly says: "Whilst we should patriotically aspire to render the local collection as perfect as possible, I would not by any means have the usefulness of museums stop here. Comparing any local collection with a general collection, it will, of course, be found that many important groups of 'animals, vegetables, and minerals, are but imperfectly represented, whilst others are altogether blank. There is, consequently, great danger of very limited and inadequate notions of the great system of Nature being formed by the student who confines his attention to local natural history. To counteract such a tendency, it is eminently desirable to form, under proper conditions, a general collection, which will give the visitor some notion of, at any rate, the larger groups in which natural bodies are classified. There should, consequently, be two departments to our central museum—-one local and the other general—each with distinct aims, and each appealing to a distinct class of visitors."

These being exactly my views, but with the radical change of wishing to mount both collections pictorially, I considered that, although the newly-erected wall-cases in oak, with single sheets of plate-glass, 7 ft. 6 in. by 5 ft, were, when filled as I projected, admirably suited to interest the general public, who comprise, perhaps, nine-tenths of museum visitors, yet that the claims of the respectable minority of students, artists, and quasi-scientific people should not be neglected, and for these the local fauna, etc, should be perseveringly collected and mounted with all the appliances which science and art can suggest. To do this properly, and to preserve groups for an indefinite time, it is necessary, and indeed indispensable, that each group of male, female, nest and eggs, or young, should be mounted in a separate case, or in separate divisions of a row of cases quite distinct from the general collection.

Although I had assumed, and, indeed, had the courage of my opinions, that the pictorial method of displaying natural history specimens was a great improvement upon the old peg system, I recognised the difficulties attendant upon this and also that many excellent authorities were adverse to any pictorial arrangement whatever. And, indeed, if we come to the consideration of "true science," I unhesitatingly assert that end is best served by a collection of properly authenticated birds' skins scientifically arranged in cabinets, and not mounted in any way whatever; but although this method might satisfy a few workers, I very much fear that the general bulk of the ratepayers would be hardly satisfied with a museum arranged on so severely scientific principles.

It must be considered that a public museum differs from a private one in a very material point. In the former there is a diversity of tastes to please, and it is often difficult to know the exact point where the line should be drawn; in a private museum, on the contrary, there is but one person to please, and that the owner, consequently he may indulge his crotchets without fear of doing damage to anyone but himself. I considered that public museums must always be affected by matters of expediency and local feeling, and that the will of the majority must always be studied, when it has common sense for its basis.

To this end I worked, and not wishing to be so much in love with my own system as to be blind to advice, I wrote to ten of the most eminent men of science—men of European reputation, and whose dictum on museum matters cannot be questioned—setting forth, under the heading "Scheme A" and "Scheme B," the pros and cons of both, not favouring one or the other in the slightest, giving no clue whatever to my leaning to either, and resolving to be guided entirely by the opinion of the majority, or, should it be a close tie, to refer it to an umpire.

Of these ten, eight returned unqualified approval of having a general collection for Leicester, and also of that plan which kept the "general" and "local" collections entirely distinct; one gave no opinion, and one eminent man suggested an alternative scheme of a typical collection somewhat like Professor Owen's "Index Museum" at South Kensington, and which could be carried out afterwards without reference to the question at issue.

As regards the pictorial mounting of the specimens in zoological order —the thing I was most doubtful about—both for the "general" and the "local" collections, five out of the ten unhesitatingly favoured pictorial mounting—if well done—of both collections, and four more said nothing for or against it.

Nearly every one of these gentlemen wrote me a lengthy letter, giving most valuable advice—advice which has in all cases been acted on where practicable. Dr. a. C. Guenther, F.R.S, etc, at one time the Keeper of Zoology, British Museum, has kindly allowed me to quote his views embodied in a letter to me. He says:

"I should recommend you to adopt the following plan: Arranging the general and British collections together, strictly systematically, receiving, of the foreign animals, typical forms only, but making the British series as complete as possible, and choosing in preference Leicestershire animals when practicable.

Excluding from the general series specially mounted objects, such as groups of birds showing nidification, change of plumage, or illustrating the habits of animals—such groups to be mounted on separate stands in the middle of the room.

I believe this plan would best meet the requirements in your museum."

Having now something to work upon, the Museum Committee rejected "Scheme A." whose weak points have been detailed at length, and sanctioned "Scheme B" being carried out, which not only separated "local" from "general," but provided for the pictorial mounting of both.

Taking, therefore, any of the orders marked on the plan (see Plate) as an example, the best known, and therefore "local" or "British" species of the first family (or genera) of that order is selected, then the least known or most striking "foreign" species of the same family (or genera) to compare with it, and so on throughout. Space being limited, however, species closely allied are not always represented, but are collected as skins to fill up the unavoidable blanks. In all cases, however, typical specimens of the families and genera of animals are attempted to be shown, and as many species as possible are collected as skins.

The highest form of each order is placed at the top, the next underneath, until the bottom of the case is arrived at, then ascends again, forming a serpentine line, which, taking the first order, Passeres, as an example, begins at the top of the first case, and takes the song thrush—one of the "locals"—as being of the first genera of the first family; this is contrasted by a "foreign" form of the same family (and genus), the "American Robin," and thus runs on throughout the whole of the wall-cases on that side of the room devoted to birds (see Plan), until it ends at the ostrich, as being the last.

It win be seen by this that, although the so-called "local" birds are often, nay nearly always, represented, they have no fictitious value given to them, but simply take their place in the great scheme of Nature in a proper manner, being often close to so-called "foreign" forms, with which they are easily compared. The whole arrangement of accessories is "pictorial," birds being represented on trees or on "rockwork," many of them swimming, or flying, or eating, surrounded by mosses and the few dried plants available for such purposes—in fact, represented in as natural a manner as is possible under the circumstances.

Exception may be taken to the close contiguity of an American or Indian form with an European, sometimes "British" form, which, though scientifically correct, is artistically and topographically wrong; and this certainly was a crux of mine until I reflected that, under the old peg system, the same state of affairs existed. I have endeavoured to isolate as much as possible such incongruities one from the other, often by partially surrounding them with ferns, etc, of their native habitat, and by leaving little blanks here and there. Apart from this, the general opinion of both scientific [Footnote: In this category I may place Sir Philip Cunliffe Owen, C.B, etc.; Mr. R. Bowdler Sharpe, F.L.S, etc.; Mr. Smith Woodward, all of South Kensington; Sir J. A. Picton, F.S.A, etc of Liverpool; Professor St. George Mivart, F.R.S. etc.; Professor 1. O. Miall; Professor Wm. Knight; Professor A. Schuster, etc.; Mr. Jas. Orrock, Member of the Royal Institute of Water-colour Painters; and several other gentlemen who have done me the honour to speak in most flattering terms of the new arrangement.] and unscientific people is that the scheme is a success, and that such trifling and inevitable irreconcilements are amply condoned and compensated for by the increased beauty of the groups, and by the pleasure it affords, not only to artistic people, but to the general public; indeed, if vox populi be vox Dei, there is no doubt upon the subject whatever.

Other defects there are; for instance, repetitions of grasses in "fitting-up," which proves how little can be done with dried things, and how much better it would be to replace them by modelled foliage (mentioned in Chapter XIV). [Footnote: One would-be critic wrote to the papers condemning the whole arrangement, because, in one of the cases, one plant was about a foot nearer the water or a yard nearer to another plant than it should be! The same wiseacre, or his friend, wrote quite an article upon some supposed "fir twigs" which, much to his confusion, were nothing of the sort, but a plant quite proper to its place in the case.]

I would now wish to point out why I object so much to carefully-managed groups of so-called "local" birds, their nests and eggs, being introduced in a general collection, especially if the latter be arranged in a pictorial manner.

First, because small groups, such as of necessity the greater number of pairs of local birds would cut up into, would be lost amidst their larger surroundings, and be really as if an artist were to paint a small, highly finished picture in the corner of some large, "broad" subject; secondly, the great difficulty there is in protecting such choice groups from moth if exposed in, say, a cubic space of 100 ft. filled with other specimens, some of them old and doubtful as regards freedom from insects. A general collection, even should great care be taken, requires constant watching to seize upon any specimen showing signs of damage; but why a choice group of young birds in their nest, with parents—birds in change of plumage, surrounded by accessories which perhaps have cost hundreds of hours to execute—should be exposed to all the evils imaginable when isolation is so much more practicable and practical, passes comprehension.

No; I am convinced that the only way to manage, in a museum of sufficient size to have a general collection, is to arrange it as I have sketched out, and to make a separate collection close at hand, if need be, for comparison of the animals collected in the district.

Now for labelling. It was proposed originally in Scheme A in this form:

"It will be essential to have labels in the cases. These maybe made simple, however, with references to a descriptive catalogue. The labels should bear the English name, with 'Resident,' Summer Visitant,' or 'Winter Visitant' on all British species. Nothing more.

"The three sections should have labels of distinct colours—say, yellow for local, pink for British, white for foreign. The labels will probably be best glued on to some part of the stand or setting. They should be as small as possible, so as to be legible,

"Local species maybe distinguished as 'Native' and 'Casual, or Accidental.

"The latter might have a dark line above, and below the name on the label—thus, Stork, or be marked 'Casual—Spring,' or 'Casual—Autumn.'"

To this I objected that if the arrangement was to be "pictorial," the "spotty" appearance of labels, especially if of light tints, was destructive to the effect sought to be gained; that yellow is not distinct from white by gaslight; and that pink often fades to yellow; also that to colour-blind people these labels would have no significance whatever.

In addition, I submitted that there are educated people as well as people of the other class, and that the system of labels written with common names inside the cases is not only unscientific but ugly in the extreme, for these reasons—that there are many birds whose "English" names are just as puzzling as their scientific to the uneducated; whereas, for those who care to learn, the scientific name is a factor of knowledge.

Regarding their inexpedience and ugliness, such a word as the "Lesser-spotted-Woodpecker" with the marking underneath it of "Resident," would fill up a large label if it were to be read at any height or distance. Taking it as a whole, the proposition was behind the age, and was commonplace also.

To dispense altogether with the necessity for labels, I proposed that a chart might be made for every group—a picture, in fact, of the contents of each case, every bird numbered, and a list prepared, whose corresponding number would give the whole history of each specimen; but, in any case, the adoption of a mass of printed matter clumsily introduced amidst pictorial effects must be condemned.

That all this was practicable is now proved by the present state of the Leicester Museum, provisionally finished in its general zoological collections so far as the birds and fishes are concerned. [Footnote: That is to say, that many of the ill-mounted and old specimens will ultimately be replaced by better ones of the same species, and that some modelled foliage will take the place of many of the dried grasses, rushes, etc, which are not quite truthfully arranged.]

The reference to species in the general collection is now managed as I proposed. (See list, on p. 337, of part of the Order Anseres, printed on sage-green cards.) This is, I contend, a great advance on the old system of labelling, which has this defect, that the labels, even if small, are "spotty" and obtrusive near the eye, and if placed 10 ft. from the floor, as they must be in many instances, it is impossible to read them unless both label and type be very large, which is an absurdity in a pictorially-mounted collection. [Footnote: When I first came to Leicester the birds, mounted on stands and perches 9 ft. from the floor, were labelled by slips of yellow paper pasted on the stands, the type being that known as Pica and Bourgeois!]

Fancy Ramiphomicron microrhynchum, Boiss. (one of the humming-birds), peeping over a label long enough to take his name—say, 3 in. x 1 in.!

Multiply this by fifty, and fancy a typical collection of pictorially-mounted humming-birds labelled in this manner! A well-known naturalist and scientific zoologist, personally unknown to me, to whom I wrote, advised, as usual, the labels to be of different colours as distinguishing marks. I sent him one of my lists and charts, and he wrote: "I return the printed description which seems to me admirably calculated to convey instruction in a becoming and sightly way. It is undoubtedly an advance upon labelling."

Again, a scientific gentleman of local celebrity wrote an article on the museum, and did me the honour to especially note the substitute for labels. He says: "Affixed to the front of each group case, and on a level with the eye, is a neatly-printed explanatory tablet, suitably framed, comprising a list of the specimens (numbered), class, sub-class, order, family, etc, with their scientific terms. The literal interpretation of these several terms is then given. Then follow the scientific names, with sex (where determined); and, lastly, the known range of each species—a matter of acknowledged importance. This is supplemented by an artistically-coloured chart, representing each example (also numbered), in the corresponding position which it occupies in any given group case. Thus is conveyed, in a concise and intelligible form, all the information which can fairly be embodied in the limited space at command.

Another redeeming feature, consequent upon this instructive and unique method, is the dispensing with the formidable array of labels mounted on unsightly coils of wire dotted about, reminding one of the labels displayed in the shop window of a hatter or haberdasher—'The Latest Novelty,' 'New this Season,' etc. They are not only obtrusive to the eye, but have a decided tendency to mar the neat effect and appropriate mounting of the general collection, and materially interfere with the surroundings, outline, and beauty of the objects to which they are appended, and their multiplied form only enhances this confusion. Beside which, these labels are of necessity frequently placed at such a height that, in order to decipher them, the head of the observer needs to be perched on a neck somewhat like the giraffe. So forcibly impressed am I with the soundness and value of this newly-devised plan, that I am led to predict that its adoption will sooner or later find favour among other kindred institutions even of a larger growth."

LIST OF THE SPECIMENS CONTAINED IN THIS GROUP.

(Arranged from the most highly specialized to lowest form.)

For Reference see coloured CHART below.

ORDER—ANSERES. From the Latin Anser—a Goose,

INCLUDING GEESE, SWANS, TREE-DUCKS, DUCKS, MERGANSERS, etc

Total number of Species of this Order known to inhabit the World 185

Of this number there are as visitants to, and residents in Britain, but 44, 19 only of which remain to breed.

Of these 44 for Britain, there are as visitants to, and residents in Leicestershire 13

3 only of which breed in the County.

Family—ANATIDAE.

From the Latin Anas—a Duck.

(Ducks, Geese, etc.)

No.—EGYPTIAN GOOSE

Chenalopex aegyptiaca (1). RANGE—Africa.

Domesticated in many parts of Europe, including Britain and Leicestershire.

Shot at Withcote Hall, near Oakham (probably escaped from confinement), and presented by F. PALMER, Esq.

No.—BLACK-NECKED SWAN.

Cygnus nigricollis (Gm.). RANGE—Antarctic America.

From River Plate, S. America.

Presented (in the skin) by C. J. MUSSON, Esq, 1876.

No.—BLACK SWAN.

Cygnus atratus (Lath.) (Immature) RANGE—Australia

From Sydney, New South Wales.

Presented by W. M. SQUIRES, Esq, 1875.

No—SHELDRAKE. Tadorna cornuta (Gm.). RANGE—N. Africa, Asia, as far east as Japan, Europe including Britain, and has occurred as a rare straggler in Leicestershire.

From Scotland, by purchase, 1881.

No.—WILD DUCK OR MALLARD.

Anas boscas (1.). Range—North Africa, Asia from the far North to China and Japan, N. America to Mexico, Europe generally, including Britain, and commonly occurring in Leicestershire.

From Barston, Warwickshire. Presented by the Curator (M.B.), 1882.

The animals collected in the district are now being placed in the middle of the room in oak cases, with plate-glass all around, on the tops of table-cases holding at present the invertebrates, and will show the male and female, young in nest, the eggs, birds in change of plumage, all surrounded as in nature by carefully-modelled plants and other accessories, the food, and the skeleton. The labelling of these latter groups requiring a mass of information, as being of local interest, is in this wise (on light sage-green coloured cards):

TOWN MUSEUM, LEICESTER.

Studies illustrating the Habits, etc, of Animals collected in the County.

CLASS—Aves ORDER—Passeres FAMILY—Turdidae

GROUP No. .—Illustrative of the Life-History of the Whitethroat (SYLVIA CINEREA, Bechst), a Bird of Passage, or Spring Migrant to Britain (winters in Africa).

No. C1A—Male Whitethroat

No C1B—Female Whitethroat

No C1—Nest Of Whitethroat

Nos. C1.50 to C1.53—Four Young Of Whitethroat

The whole collected by the Curator at Aylestone, August, 1883.

The Male and Female are the actual builders of the nest, and parents of the young birds here shown.

No. A Male, and No. Female, in Spring plumage. To be procured

RANGE.—N. Africa, Western Asia, Europe generally, common in Britain (except in the North), and also in Leicestershire.

FOOD.—Caterpillars, various small insects, and occasionally small fruits.

EGGS.—Four or five. Builds its nest amongst nettles or brambles, in low bushes near to the ground. (N.B.—Eggs shown at back of group.) Duplicate Skin and Skeleton.

PLANT EXHIBITED.

BRAMBLE (Rubus fruticosus, 1.). VAR.: discolor

RANGE.—Whole of Europe except extreme North, Russian and Central Asia and Northern Africa (Not high Alpine). Common in Leicestershire.

Flowers and leaves modelled from Nature by the curator

Now for the invertebrates. Not having a special room at present for these, they are best displayed in the centre of the vertebrate-room, if possible, in table-cases, which are—for convenience, though, incorrectly in science—arranged in linear order, beginning at the Protozoa and running on to the Cephalopoda. As I before pointed out, a tabular arrangement is inevitable except in some rare cases, where a group might be taken to be pictorially displayed to give an idea of the creature's mode of life.

By far the best arrangement of invertebrates I have ever seen is that adopted at the Liverpool Museum under the auspices of the Rev. H. H. Higgins, M.A, whose views on the invertebrates are very clearly defined in his Introduction to a "Synopsis of an Arrangement of Invertebrate Animals" contained in the Liverpool Museum. He says therein:

"The series had to be conformed to a linear arrangement. In some respects this was a serious disadvantage. The classes of invertebrate animals cannot well be represented in a single ascending or descending series. Probably it would not be possible on any symmetrical plan to assign to them their proper positions relatively to each other; but some palpable incongruities might be avoided by the use of table-cases on a ground plan resembling a genealogical tree, one proposed form of which is represented by a diagram in a work published by Professor Rolleston.

"The importance of a suitable ground plan for cases in museums seems to be much underrated. When a class of students visit a museum frequently, the localities of cases containing special groups become indelibly impressed upon the memory. This might be turned to good account.

"In preparing the first scheme of the collection, it seemed essential that plain and moderately-simple printed descriptions of the life-history of the animals should accompany the specimens; therefore, as it was clearly impossible to describe every genus, it became necessary to fix on some mode of associating in groups a number of examples to which the descriptions might apply. Such divisions as 'classes' and 'orders' were manifestly too large, whilst 'families' varied from a single genus, including a solitary species, to an army of more than a thousand genera—e.g, the Linnaean families Cerambycidae and Curculionidae in the Coleoptera. It was with some regret that the idea of attaching a readable sketch to each division of a given rank in recent systems of classification was relinquished; but it was found to be impracticable, and the life-history sketch thus became the foundation of the arrangement eventually adopted.

"Whether it might be a few species, or a genus, or a family, or an order, that seemed to afford suitable scope for a page of readable and instructive matter, it was decided that, throughout the entire collection, such a group should be segregated, so as to form the unit of the series. Eventually, in order that the sketches, which it was proposed to print for that purpose on tablets, might all be in positions where they could conveniently be read, it was found to be expedient that each group or unit should occupy an equal space; and as the blocks on which the table-cases rested were to be fitted up with trays or drawers, twelve of which would occupy the table-case without loss of room, these trays or drawers were adopted as the receptacles and boundaries of the groups.

"The entire plan of the table-cases, and the limits of many of the groups, were committed to writing before any considerable advance had been made in procuring specimens. In one respect this circumstance was found to be very advantageous—our desiderata were at once well defined. It was an object that each of the groups should be illustrated by carefully-selected specimens, and, until this could be attained, other acquisitions need not be sought for. In making purchases, such an object, steadily kept in view, exercises a powerful influence against the seductive attractions of 'great bargains,' which often turn out to be great misfortunes to a museum. Moreover, in accepting donations, it is sometimes convenient to be able to refer to a fixed plan. Where room is scanty, as in most museums, nothing is more subversive of order, or more fatal to an instructive arrangement, than the gift of a collection, coupled with a stipulation that it must be displayed in some special way. [Footnote: We possess in the Leicester Museum a very fine collection of the whole of the "British" Birds (totally devoid, however of a history of the specimens) called the "Bickley Collection"—bequeathed to the town under these conditions—which, could we have used it to embellish our present arrangement, would have saved money, and, what is still more important, the entire wall space of a small room now devoted to them.] It is far better to forego the possession even of a valuable series of specimens than to sacrifice order for their sake . . . .

The following is the plan of arrangement adopted in connection with each group: Wherever circumstances permit, the plan for each group includes (1) A printed schedule, (2) Exotic species, (3) British representatives, (4) The printed tablet, (5) Earliest fossils, (6) Diagrams and other illustrations, (7) Species and varieties on a more extended scale."

The schedule, of which an example follows, is printed in large type, and is attached conspicuously to the drawer:

GROUP 222.

SUB-KINGDOM

PROVINCE

CLASS

SUB-CLASS

ORDER

SUB-ORDER

FAMILY

Annulosa

Arthropoda

Insecta

Metabola

Lepidoptera

Rhopalocera

Papilionidae

Skeleton external, ringed.

Limbs jointed.

Legs, six.

Transformations complete.

Wings with scales.

Horns clubbed at the apex.

Middle nerve of fore-wing 4-branched.

The whole "Synopsis," published at a shilling, by the authorities of the Liverpool Museum, is well worth reading. It contains a store of information, not the least interesting being the Greek and Latin derivations of the scientific names. I am especially glad to see that the Greek characters are not barbarously replaced by English "equivalents," which nearly always fail to give the key to the roots. [Footnote: I noticed "Ocnai gunaike" written in a scientific work lately, and I thought I never saw a sentence so ugly and so unlike what it would be if written in Greek characters or properly pronounced.]

The cases themselves are excellently adapted to show the specimens, and the plan—if we except the division labelled "British," which might be advantageously altered, I think, to "Animals belonging to the above group (etc.), found also in Britain"—is admirable. Not only are objects dried, mounted, or shown in spirits, but first-class coloured drawings of such creatures as Medusae, etc, are provided. This is, I am sure, a step in the right direction, and I so recognise the importance of this, that I am preparing charts of parts, etc, of animals as keys to their structure, and also enlarging minute forms under the microscope, to be placed in position in the invertebrate cases for the Leicester Museum.

Another very fine feature of the Liverpool Museum, and worthy of imitation, is the manner in which the osteological preparations are managed. Not only are complete skeletons of mammals shown, but parts for comparison—that is to say, there is a large series of skulls of various mammals, birds, reptiles, and fishes, and, again, leg and arm bones, and their parts, arranged side by side; hence you may compare the fore-limb of the human subject with that of a monkey, a lion, a whale, a marsupial, a bird, a reptile, or a fish. [Footnote: Of course, all this may be seen in the Museum of the College of Surgeons, or at Oxford or Cambridge, etc, but these are special institutions, and I am merely taking provincial general museums as my standpoint.]

It is needless to say—taking into consideration the fact that these are prepared under the direction of the curator, Mr. Moore, and his accomplished family—that all are beautifully arranged and classified. In short, Liverpool is to be congratulated on its collections of bones and invertebrates. Turning, however, to the vertebrates, we see that, although the management begins to recognise the importance of "pictorial" mounting, it is done in a half-hearted manner—isolated groups here and there, on square boards, placed in the general collection amongst the birds, on pegs, serving only to render the latter more conspicuous in their shortcomings. This system of Liverpool is being copied at Nottingham, Derby, and other places, and was being copied also at Leicester, but not being, to my mind, half thorough enough, has been discarded for the more ambitious—certainly more effective—and quite as scientific method of arranging the vertebrates pictorially, and in their proper sequence in orders and families, endeavour being made to represent specimens of each genus also, where practicable, in this manner.

As will be seen, in making a brief resume of what has gone before, I am in favour of large, top-lighted rooms, painted in a light neutral tint, well warmed; cases built in oak, with single sheets of plate-glass not less than 7 ft. 6 in. by 5 ft. or 8 ft. by 5 ft. 4 in, artificially lighted by pendants shaded from the eye; the vertebrates to be pictorially mounted both in the "general" and "local" collections, but, of course, zoological sequence and science not to suffer in consequence; I think that the "local" and "general" typical collections should be entirely distinct though close to each other in the same room for comparison; that extreme care should be taken in the collection and mounting of the animals inhabiting the district, and that no opportunity be lost of making this latter as complete as possible; that anything for which the locality is famed, be it fossils or antiquities, be the chief motif of any provincial museum; that, failing this, some groups or forms be collected to establish a monograph, such as Norwich is doing with its Accipitres; that, where practicable, bones and complete skeletons of animals should be collected, as being, of the greatest service to all students, be they medical or biological.

Also that explanatory charts and lists take the place of labels for the vertebrates, and that all information as to range and distribution of species be given. Further, that anatomical diagrams and figures explanatory of the structure and form of animals be provided, together with all facilities for the study of biology from a scientific stand-point. I have also laid down the axiom that a very small museum must and should confine itself to objects collected in its immediate vicinity, but that a fairly large museum would ever be in a disjointed and unfurnished state if it relied solely on such specimens. It must, therefore, have a general collection; and care should be taken in the selection of specimens so that they may fill up the blanks occurring in the "local."

Another thing I am quite assured of; it is that the management should exercise a wise discretion in refusing unsuitable objects (chiefly of ethnology) or duplicates of common forms, and never receive a collection if fettered with the condition that "it must be kept separate." Order, method, neatness, and careful cataloguing I say nothing about, for I assume that all principals must practise these virtues to do any good whatever with the collections entrusted to their care.

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Scanner's remarks.

This book seems to have been printed about 1885. I got my copy when I was still a teenager (nth-hand; I am not really as old as all that!) and have greatly enjoyed the enlightened, yet practical and down-to-earth attitude of the writer. It seems to me a fine example of late Victorian instructional material of the unpretentious persuasion. Some of Browne's views were ahead of his time in terms of compassion and conservation, so I urge modern readers not to sneer at what they see as his out-of-date interest in "stuffed animals". Nor should they take too patronising an attitude to Browne's long paragraphs and occasionally strained concordances; he was not a professional writer and he produced a fine, readable, and useful work. Both to the biologist and historian of science, the book remains useful to this day, and, as books of that period disappear for good, I hope, in scanning it, to prevent a sorry loss to our generation and to those who follow us. Though I nowhere edited his wording or punctuation in any other way, no matter how much self-control this occasionally demanded, I did split a lot of paragraphs, especially when they spanned pages and thereby confused lines of thought.

In transcribing this book I have generally kept as truly to the original as I could, including when Browne's (or possibly his editors') conventions for the use of quotes and parentheses set my teeth on edge. However, for lack of convenient font characters and sophistication of scanning software, I have converted most of the vulgar fractions to decimals. The others I have represented with slashes, so that say, a value of one third might appear as 1/3. Similarly, I have split ligatured characters such as the ligatured "ae" and "oe" frequent in late Latin in particular. Also, following a practical and common convention, I have replaced the umlaut with a following letter "e". Thus "Moeller" becomes "Moeller".

Browne frequently cross-referred readers to pages in the book. As pages got changed in scanning and editing, I have changed such page references mainly to chapters or similar references.

There were several places where changes (generally advances, I hope!) in technical biology, or possibly slips that Browne made in matters outside his speciality, led to errors. I have not corrected these in the text of course, nor do I discuss many of them. After all, most readers who can recognise the errors in modern terms do not need my assistance in correcting them, and to the other readers they would hardly matter. Here however are comments on a few arbitrarily chosen points, in no particular sequence:

* Browne seems to have worked before hydrogen peroxide became generally available, or possibly before its bleachng powers were recognised. For bleaching most biological specimens, especially bones and the like, hydrogen peroxide is in every way better, less offensive, less corrosive, and less damaging to tissues, than hypochlorite. Soaking even badly yellowed teeth in say, a "five volumes" concentration (about 1% to 2%) of peroxide for a few days or weeks, whitens them beautifully without damage or rotting of tissues. You might find that other peroxide compounds, such as perborates, work better still, but I have not yet had occasion to use them. Other methods of bleaching only are worth trying when the specimens happen to contain a particular pigment that does not respond well to peroxide bleaching. Some such pigments are better bleached with other chemicals, such as sulphites or hypochlorites.

* It takes some trawling through the book to discover that by "mites" in insect collections, Browne probably means "booklice", i.e. Psocoptera.

* Earwigs (Dermaptera) are not Hemiptera, as Browne classed them. Dermaptera and Hemiptera are not even closely related. The error is an interesting one however. It presumably arose from a nineteenth-century confusion of the hemelytra of the Hemiptera, with the short tegmina, the covering fore-wings of the Dermaptera, that protect their hind wings when they are not in flight. Hemelytra of Hemiptera are not really half-wings anyway, but protective fore-wings armoured for only about half their length. The two orders do not even resemble each other in appearance, anatomy, habits or ecological significance.

* Browne uses a few terms not easily to be found in every dictionary nowadays. Dowlas is (was) a coarse kind of linen, but probably Browne referred to a strong calico in imitation of such linen. For "filister" read "fillister"; according to more or less contemporary dictionaries, it is a misspelling. It turns out to be a type of rabbet plane used in making window frames and similar structures.

* For setting insects on a setting board, I was slightly surprised at Browne's use of "braces" and the like. Nowadays everyone I know uses strips of smooth, non-sticky, translucent paper or similar material for the purpose, and I had not realised that any other methods had been used in the past. The use of such strips is easy, fast and effective. It permits one to set large numbers of insects almost in an assembly line fashion, working from the far end of the board towards oneself, laying the tape over the wings, blowing or gently dragging the wings into position, pinning down the tape, and proceeding to the next insect.