THE post has brought me some odd things from “foreign parts” in the course of the last few years, but never anything quite so strange and weird as a live specimen of the so-called “praying mantis,” which reached me last winter.

This curious insect was sent from Mentone by the same kind friend who forwarded the interesting sacred beetle, the “Cheops,” described in “Wild Nature.”

The cold journey and lack of food had made the poor mantis look so nearly dead that I almost despaired of his recovery. The food of this tribe of insects being flies of any kind, a bluebottle, which happened fortunately to be on the window-pane, was captured, killed, and presented to the illustrious stranger, who feebly nibbled a portion of his body, drank a little water, and appeared somewhat revived. The mantis was then placed near the fire, and we hoped that warmth might prove restorative.

The mantis is never met with in England; it is a native of the warmer parts of Europe, and various species are found in the tropics. It is a large and powerful insect, varying from three to five inches in length; it has six legs. The four legs which it uses in walking are long and slender, while the pair nearest the head are much thicker, and are armed with very sharp spines, with which the mantis kills the insects upon which it feeds.

Its usual position is a sort of sitting posture, holding up the fore-legs slightly bent as if in the attitude of prayer, and from this fancied resemblance the creature has gained the name of “praying mantis.”

Deceit and cunning seem combined to a remarkable degree in the nature of this creature, as if to make up for the slowness of its movements. It will remain stealthily on the watch whilst flies are hovering within sight, apparently taking no notice, but secretly biding its time until a victim is within the range of its cruel enemy; then one swift stroke impales the fly upon the spikes of the fore-leg, which holds it fast in the pangs of death.

As Mr. Duncan wittily says in his charming book on “Transformation of Insects”: “Any unfortunate moths that may admire the mantis on account of its attitude of supplication soon find out that instead of saying 'Let us pray,’ it says 'Let us prey!’”

When my specimen began to revive I could but gaze with wonder at the strange attitudes the creature assumed. Its head seemed to be set on a revolving pivot, for it could turn in all directions with the greatest ease; its limbs stretched themselves out at every conceivable angle, as if simulating the twigs on a tree-branch. Grotesque and weird are the terms one would use in describing this insect; it seems a freak of nature, and quite fascinates one by the oddity of its appearance.

I read that the Chinese keep these insects in bamboo-cages, and take advantage of their quarrelsome disposition by making them fight for their captors’ amusement. Mantises are so pugnacious that they will continue the conflict, hewing at each other like hussars fighting with sabres, until one or other of the combatants is killed. Those who have watched these engagements say that the wings are generally expanded during the fight, and when it is ended the conqueror devours his antagonist.

Although we see that the mantis has no right to its character for sanctity, I thought my specimen ought to have an appropriate name, so he became known in the family circle as Simeon Stylites! The chief difficulty was how to keep him warm enough through wintry days and nights; this end was, however, attained by keeping a night-light always burning in his glass-case, and of course this led to some little teasing about my ever-lighted lamp at the shrine of my patron saint!

The second day after Simeon’s arrival no flies could be had, so in despair I tried whether a meal-worm would be accepted instead. I was humbly presenting my newly-killed offering to what appeared a very meek and innocent creature, with its arms folded and its head on one side when, to my great astonishment, the deceitful thing suddenly sprang up and made such a vicious snap at my fingers that I dropped the meal-worm and retreated. That was my first lesson in the habits and manners of this holy hypocrite! for the future I learned to treat him with respectful caution, and handed his prey to him at the end of a pair of forceps.

It was a comical sight to see Simeon discussing a meal-worm. He found out that it was a toothsome dainty, and accepted it very readily. Holding it in one of his spiked fore-legs, and biting it piece by piece as if it were a banana, he munched away until he was satisfied, and then he generally tilted up the last portion as if he were draining a little beaker. I need hardly say that the meal-worm was mercifully killed first, else I could not have watched it being thus demolished.

The mantis seems to have remarkably keen sight and to be very watchful, for if I tried to touch anything in his globe he would face round instantly and stand on the defensive. If a twig was held near him he would throw out his long fore-legs and fight with the intruding thing, showing a dauntless spirit and very irascible temper.

I was most anxious to keep my curious pet alive; and, fearing I might not treat it rightly in all respects, I wrote to Mr. Bartlett at the Zoological Gardens, asking his advice about food and general treatment. He replied with his usual courtesy, but I was sorry to learn that, even under his experienced treatment, mantises never live through an English winter.

It is sad to record that Simeon grew less and less inclined to eat. In spite of all possible care he became inert and helpless, and died at the end of a week.

With the experience I have gained I should not quite despair of keeping a mantis alive throughout the summer and autumn. At that period of the year one could ensure suitable food and sufficient warmth to keep the insect living in health and comfort. It would be worth while to take pains to learn more about the life-history of a creature of such exceptionally singular form and habits.