fastened, it is more porous, more delicate, and seems as if embroidered by the needle; to complete its beauty, its extremity finishes by a fringe, whose minute threads succeed each other with the utmost regularity. What are our most laboured dresses, what is all their boasted ornament, in comparison of that refined tissue with which nature has invested this simple insect? Our finest laces are only like coarse cloth, when brought to vie with that luxurious clothing which covers the wings of the butterfly; and our smallest thread, by their infinitely delicate fibres, swells into hempen cord. Such is the wonderful difference to be observed between the works of nature and those of art, when viewed through a microscope. The former are finished to all imaginable perfection; the others, even the most beautiful of their kind, appear incomplete and coarsely wrought. How fine a piece of delicate cambric appears to us! nothing more slender than the threads, nothing more uniform than the texture and yet in the microscope these threads resemble hempen strings, and we should rather be tempted to believe that they had been interlaced by the hand of a basketmaker, than wrought on the loom of a skilful weaver. What is most astonishing in this brilliant insect, is, that it proceeds from a worm, than which nothing has a more abject and vile appearance. Behold how the butterfly displays to the sun his splendid wings, how he sports in his rays, how he rejoices in his existence, and, in respiring the vernal airs, how he flutters in the meadow from flower to flower. His rich wings present to us the magnificence of the rainbow. How beautiful is he now, who but a little while ago crept a worm in the dust, in perpetual danger of being crushed to death! Who has raised him above the earth? Who has given to him the faculty of inhabiting the ethereal regions? Who has furnished him with his painted wings? It is God. In down of ev'ry variegated dye, Shines, flutt'ring soft, the gaudy butterfly; Browne, Their wings, all glorious to behold, Bedropt with azure, jet, and gold, Gay. We shall now briefly describe THE METAMORPHOSES OF INSECTS. And first, THE BUTTERFLY: From form to form they pass in wondrous change. Virgil. At the first exclusion from the egg, and for some month of its existence afterwards the creature which is to become a butterfly, is a worm-like caterpillar, crawling upca sixteen short legs, greedily devouring leaves with two jaws, and seeing by means of twel-e eyes, so minute, as to be nearly imperceptible without the aid of a microscope. We now view it furnished with wings capable of rapid and extensive flights; of its sixteen feet, ten have disappeared, and the remaining six are in most respects wholly unlike those to which they have succeeded; its jaws having vanished, are replaced by a curled-up proboscis, suited only for sipping liquid sweets; the form of its head is entirely changed, two long horns projecting from its upper surface; and, instead of twelve invisible eyes, you behold two, very large, and composed of at least twenty thousand convex lenses, each supposed to be a distinct and effective eye! Were we to push our examination further, and, by dissection, to compare the internal conformation of the caterpillar with that of the butterfly, we should witness changes even more extraordinary. In the former we should find some thousands of muscles, which in the latter are replaced by others, of a form and structure entirely different. Nearly the whole body of the caterpillar is occupied by a capacious stomach. In the butterfly, this has become converted into an almost imperceptible thread-like viscus; and the abdomen is now filled by two large packets of eggs, or other organs, not visible in the first state. In the former, two spirally-convoluted tubes were filled with a silky gum; in the latter, both tubes and silk have almost totally vanished, and changes equally great have taken place in the economy and structure of the nerves and other organs. What a surprising transformation! Nor was this all. The change from one form to the other was not direct; an intermediate state, not less singular, intervened. After casting its skin, even to its very jaws, several times, and attaining its full growth, the caterpillar attached itself to a leaf by a silken girth. Its body became greatly contracted; its skin once more split asunder, and disclosed an oviform mass, without exterior mouth, eyes, or limbs, and exhibiting no other symptom of life than a slight motion when touched. In this state of death-like torpor, and without tasting food, the insect existed for severai months, until at length the tomb burst, and out of a case not more than an inch long, and a quarter of an inch in diameter, proceeded the butterfly, which covers a surface of nearly four inches square. THE COMMON FLY.-This winged insect, whose delicate palate selects out the choicest viands, one while extending his proboscis to the margin of a drop of wine, and then gaily fying to take a more solid repast from a pear or a peach; now gambolling with his comrades in the air, now gracefully carrying his furled wings with his taper feet;-was but the other day a disgusting grub, without wings, without legs, without eyes, wallowing, well pleased, in the midst of a mass of excrement. THE GREYCOATED GNAT.-This creature, whose humming salutation, while she makes her airy circles about our bed, gives terrific warning of the sanguinary operation in which she is ready to engage, was a few hours ago the inhabitant of a stagnant pool, more in shape like a fish than an insect. Then to have been taken out of the water would have been speedily fatal; now it could as little exist in any other element than air. Then it breathed through its tail; now through openings in its sides. Its shapeless head, in that period of its existence, is now exchanged for one adorned with elegantly tufted antennæ, and furnished, instead of jaws, with an apparatus more artfully constructed than the cupping-glasses of the phlebotomist; an apparatus, which, at the same time that it strikes in the lancets, composes a tube for pumping up the flowing blood. THE SHARDHORN BEETLE.-This species of beetle, whose sullen hum, as he directs his droning flight close past our ears in our evening walk, was not in his infancy an inhabitant of air, the first period of his life being spent in gloomy solitude, as a grub, under the surface of the earth. The shapeless maggot, which we scarcely fail to meet with in some one of every handful of nuts we crack, would not always have grovelled in that humble state. If our unlucky intrusion upon its vaulted dwelling had not left it to perish in the wide world, it would have continued to reside there until its full growth had been attained. Then it would have gnawed itself an opening, and, having entered the earth, and passed a few months in a state of inaction, would at length have emerged an elegant beetle, furnished with a slender and very long ebony beak; two wings, and two wing-cases, ornamented with yellow bands; six feet; and in every respect unlike the worm from which it proceeded. THE DEATH-WATCH.-This appalling name is applied to a harmless, diminutive insect, because it emits a sound resembling the ticking of a watch, and is supposed to predict the death of some one of the family, in the house in which it is heard. Thus sings the muse of the witty Dean of St. Patrick on this subject: With teeth or with laws, it will bite or will scratch, Then woe be to those in the house who are sick! Infallibly cures the timber affected; The omen is broken, the danger is over, The maggot will die, and the sick will recover." To add to the effect of this noise, it is said to be made only when there is a profound silence in an apartment, and every one is still. Authors were formerly not agreed concerning the insect from which this sound of terror proceeded, some attributing it to a kind of woodlouse, and others to a spider; but it is now a received opinion, adopted upon satisfactory evidence, that it is produced by some little beetles belonging to the timber-boring genus, Anobium, F. Swammerdam observes, that a small beetle, which he had in his collection, having firmly fixed its fore-legs, and put its inflexed head between them, makes a continual noise in old pieces of wood, walls, and ceilings, which is sometimes so loud, that upon hearing it, people have fancied that hobgoblins, ghosts, or fairies, were wandering around them. Evidently this was one of the death-watches. Latreille observed Anobium striatum, F. produce the sound in question, by a stroke of its mandibles upon the wood, which was answered by a similar noise from within it. But the species whose proceedings have been most noticed by British observers, is, A. tessellatum, F. When spring is far advanced, these insects are said to commence their ticking, which is only a call to each other, to which, if no answer be returned, the animal repeats it in another place. It is thus produced: Raising itself upon its hind-legs, with the body somewhat inclined, it beats its head with great force and agility upon the plane of its position; and its strokes are so powerful, as to make a considerable impression if they fall upon any substance softer than wood. The general number of distinct strokes in succession, is from seven to nine or eleven; they follow each other quickly, and are repeated at uncertain intervals. In old houses, where these insects abound, they may be heard in warm weather during the whole day. The noise exactly resembles that produced by tapping moderately with the nail upon a table; and, when familiarized, the insect will answer very readily the tap of the nail. |