the dawn of civilization arose over France.  With the bean did those ancient teachers also involuntarily bring us the insect which to-day disputes it with us?  It is doubtful; the Bruchidae seem to be indigenous.  At all events, I find them levying tribute from various indigenous plants, wild vegetables which have never tempted the appetite of man.  They abound in particular upon the great forest vetch (Lathyrus latifolius), with its magnificent heads of flowers and long handsome pods.  The seeds are not large, being indeed smaller than the garden pea; but, eaten to the very skin, as they invariably are, each is sufficient to the needs of its grub.

We must not fail to note their number.  I have counted more than twenty in a single pod, a number unknown in the case of the pea, even in the most prolific varieties.  Consequently this superb vetch is in general able to nourish without much loss the family confided to its pod.

Where the forest vetch is lacking, the Bruchus, none the less, bestows its habitual prodigality of eggs upon another vegetable of similar flavor, but incapable of nourishing all the grubs:  for example, the travelling vetch (Vicia peregrina) or the cultivated vetch (Vicia saliva).  The number of eggs remains high even upon insufficient pods, because the original food-plant offered a copious provision, both in the multiplicity and the size of the seeds.  If the Bruchus is really a stranger, let us regard the bean as the original food-plant; if indigenous, the large vetch.

Sometime in the remote past we received the pea, growing it at first in the prehistoric vegetable garden which already supplied the bean.  It was found a better article of diet than the broad bean, which to-day, after such good service, is comparatively neglected.  The weevil was of the same opinion as man, and without entirely forgetting the bean and the vetch it established the greater part of its tribe upon the pea, which from century to century was more widely cultivated.  To-day we have to share our peas; the Bruchidae take what they need, and bestow their leavings on us.

This prosperity of the insect which is the offspring of the abundance and equality of our garden products is from another point of view equivalent to decadence.  For the weevil, as for ourselves, progress in matters of food and drink is not always beneficial.  The race would profit better if it remained frugal.  On the bean and the vetch the Bruchus founded colonies in which the infant mortality was low.  There was room for all.  On the pea-vine, delicious though its fruits may be, the greater part of its offspring die of starvation.  The rations are few, and the hungry mouths are multitudinous.

We will linger over this problem no longer.  Let us observe the grub which has now become the sole tenant of the pea by the death of its brothers.  It has had no part in their death; chance has favored it, that is all.  In the centre of the pea, a wealthy solitude, it performs the duty of a grub, the sole duty of eating.  It nibbles the walls enclosing it, enlarging its lodgment, which is always entirely filled by its corpulent body.  It is well shaped, fat, and shining with health.  If I disturb it, it turns gently in its niche and sways its head.  This is its manner of complaining of my importunities.  Let us leave it in peace.