From Virginia Woolf's "Rambling Round Evelyn" (1925) in The Common Reader (my emphasis):
"...that butterfly will sit motionless on the dahlia while the gardener trundles his barrow past it, but let him flick the wings with the shadow of a rake, and off it flies, up it goes, instantly on the alert. So, we may reflect, a butterfly sees but does not hear... But as for going into the house to fetch a knife and with that knife dissecting a Red Admiral's head... no sane person in the twentieth century would entertain such a project for a second."
Also possibly interesting: the book's epigram is from Samuel Johnson's Life of Gray.