1. WHEN the caterpillar has attained its full size, it crawls to the under-part of a branch, and spins a little

knob of silk, of which it takes hold with its hindmost false legs: it then spins a girdle, composed of many contiguous

threads of silk, fastened at each end; making a bow large enough to admit the body, and intended to support the chrysalis. This, when finished, the caterpillar puts over its head. It continues in this state about two days and a half, during which time it has gradually lost its power of holding on by the feet, and rests with its whole weight. upon the knob and cincture of silk. It now casts off its caterpillar skin, and enters the chrysalis state.

2. By good fortune we were happy enough to see this change take place in one of our captives. The caterpillar appearing very uneasy and restless, we watched it at intervals for about half an hour; when, by strong and apparently painful inflations, a slit was made in the back of the third ring or segment, and the chrysalis forced itself through; gradually extending the slit forwards, till the head was split and separated, and backwards for several rings. The skin was then gradually pushed down. We had wondered how it would get through this part of the business, for the weight of the caterpillar pressed the silken girth very tightly round the body; but there seemed no real difficulty, the loose skin being worked backwards by the motion of the segments.

CATERPILLAR.

3. When it was pushed down to the extremity, the tail of the chrysalis was thrust out underneath, and pressed upwards to take hold of the little knob of silk; this being done, the old skin was thrown off by the writhing of the body. The silken cord was now round the body between the sixth and seventh rings, and the chrysalis twisted and

turned, till it got the girth three rings nearer the head, about the middle of the wing-cases; the skin was so soft and the silk so slender, that it cut into the wing-cases, so far as to be invisible, but no ill resulted from this circumstance to the perfect butterfly.

4. The newly transformed chrysalis is soft, with the skin

materially alters its form. Some of its segments contract and condense, prominent angles appear, the skin roughens and becomes very rigid, and the creature has assumed the condition in which it will pass a sort of torpid vegetative existence, through some ten months.

5. When the period of second birth approaches, it is manifested by a change in the appearance of the chrysalis. The skin becomes very thin and fragile, and, for some days before the exclusion, the colors, spots, and marks of the perfect butterfly are distinctly perceptible through the transparent integument, but all in miniature. At length the hour arrives; the chrysalis, which for some hours has appeared uneasy, wriggling, and apparently inflating its body, succeeds in splitting the thin and brittle skin of the back. The imprisoned butterfly pushes out; the head with its palpi and antennæ and its spiral tongue, and the legs, are all drawn out of their several sheaths, the latter

limbs are thrown forward, and the insect stands on them, weak and staggering. It rests a moment or two, then proceeds; the painted wings now

appear, minute and hanging against the sides like wet paper, but perfect in their colors and markings. The butterfly is free!

6. It essays to lift its wings, but these organs, all soft and flabby as they are, are utterly unfit for flight. But see, a change is com

ing over them! They are swelling irregularly, crumpling up, puckering into folds here and there, as their vessels are distending with fluids from the body. They look hopelessly spoiled. Though small at first, they were at least symmetrical; but now they look like pieces of wet paper crushed up in the hand and partially opened, and the further the work proceeds the worse it appears to grow. But by and by, they begin to become smooth and even again; the distension and expansion have reached to every part, and wings of full size and perfect form are developed, still, however, soft, flaccid, and pendent.

7. A quarter of an hour more removes this defect; the elegant organs momentarily acquire rigidity; at length the insect can raise them to an erect position. As soon as this is attained, the beautiful creature marches to and fro, testing the capabilities of its organs, and perhaps accustoming itself, by repeatedly opening and shutting its wings, to the practice of those muscular movements on the force and precision of which its flight will depend. At length it launches into the air, and sails away to the flowers, a happy denizen of a new element.

GOSSE.

102. - THE BEES.

So work the honey bees;

Creatures that by a rule in nature teach
The act of order to a peopled kingdom.
They have a king, and officers of sorts;
Where some, like magistrates, correct at home;
Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad;
Others, like soldiers, armèd in their stings,
Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds,
Which pillage they with merry march bring home
To the tent royal of their emperor,

Who, busied in his majesty, surveys

The singing masons building roofs of gold;
The civil citizens kneading up the honey;
The poor mechanic porters crowding in
Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate:
The sad-eyed justice with his surly hum,
Delivering o'er to executors pale

The lazy, yawning drone.

SHAKESPEARE.