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Title: The Insect World

Author: Louis Figuier

Editor: P. Martin Duncan

Release date: May 6, 2014 [eBook #45596]
Most recently updated: October 24, 2024

Language: English

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE INSECT
WORLD ***

The Dragon-fly (Libellula depressa).
a. Perfect Insect. b. Perfect Insect emerging from the Pupa. c. d. Larvæ
and Pupæ.

THE

INSECT WORLD:

BEING

A Popular Account of the Orders of Insects;
TOGETHER WITH

A DESCRIPTION OF THE HABITS AND ECONOMY OF
SOME OF THE MOST INTERESTING SPECIES.

BY
LOUIS FIGUIER.

A New Edition,
REVISED AND CORRECTED BY P. MARTIN DUNCAN, F.R.S.

—————
WITH 579 ILLUSTRATIONS.
—————

D. APPLETON AND CO.,

NEW YORK.

P R E F A C E.
This popular French book on Insects has been
placed in my hands in order that the scientific

portions of it should be examined and, if necessary,
corrected. This task has been a light one, for the book
had already passed through the able editorship of Mr.
Jansen. But I have added a short notice of the
Thysanoptera, which did not appear in M. Figuier's
original work, and also the necessary information
respecting the evolution of Stylops.

P. MARTIN
DUNCAN.
Lee, 1872.

CONTENTS.
PAGE
Introduction 1
Aptera 27
Diptera 33
Nemocera 35
Brachycera 47
Hemiptera 90
Heteroptera 90

Homoptera 101
Lepidoptera 138
The Larva, or Caterpillar 138
The Chrysalis, or Pupa 146
The Perfect Insect 165
Orthoptera 284
Hymenoptera 313
Thysanoptera 400
Neuroptera 402
Coleoptera 435
Index 523

The Insect World.

INTRODUCTION.
It is not intended to investigate the anatomy of insects in this work
thoroughly; but, as we are about to treat of the habits and economy of
certain created beings, it is necessary first to explain the principal parts of
their structure, and the stages which every perfect insect or imago has
undergone before arriving at that state.
We, therefore, proceed to explain, as simply as possible, the anatomy of
an insect, and the functions of its organs.

If we take an insect, and turn it over, and examine
it carefully, the first thing that strikes us is that it is
divided into three parts: the head; the thorax, or chest;
and the abdomen, or stomach.
The head (Fig. 1) is a kind of box, formed of a
single piece, having here and there joints more or less
strongly marked, sometimes scarcely visible. It is
furnished in front with an opening—often very small Fig. 1.—Head of an
—which is the mouth; and with some for the eyes, and Insect
with others for the insertion of the antennæ or horns.
The integuments of the head are generally harder than the other parts of
the body. It is necessary that this should be so. Insects often live and die in
the midst of substances which offer some resistance. It is necessary,
therefore, that the head should be strong enough to overcome such
resistance. The head contains the masticatory organs, which, frequently
having to attack hard substances, must be strongly supported. The exception
to this rule is among insects which live by suction.
It would be out of place here to mention the
numerous modifi cations of the head which are
presented in the immense class of insects.
The eyes of insects are of two kinds. There are
compound eyes, or eyes composed of many lenses,
Fig. 2.—A Compound united by their margins and forming hexagonal
Cornea facettes; and there are also simple eyes, or ocelli.
The exterior of the eye is called the cornea (Fig.
2), each facette being a cornea; and the facettes, which vary in size even in
the same eye, unite and form a common cornea, which is represented by the
entire figure.
In order to show the immense number of the facettes possessed by many
insects, we give the following list:—
In the genus Mordella (a genus of beetles) the eye has 25,008 facettes.
In the Libellula (dragon-fly) 12,544 "
In the genus Papilio (a genus of butterflies) 17,355 "

In Sphinx convolvuli (the convolvulus hawk-moth) 1,300 "
In Bombyx mori (the common silkworm moth) 6,236 "
In the house-fly 4,000 "
In the ant 50 "
In the cockchafer 8,820 "
The facettes appear to be most numerous in insects of the genus
Scarabæus (a genus of beetles). They are so minute, that they can only be
detected with a magnifying glass.
Looked at in front, a compound eye may be considered an
agglomeration of simple eyes; but internally this is hardly correct.
On the under side of each facette we find a body of a gelatinous
appearance, transparent, and usually conical; the base of this occupies the
centre of the facette in such a manner as to leave around it a ring to receive
some colouring matter. This body diminishes in thickness towards its other
extremity, and terminates in a point where it joins a nervous filament
proceeding from the optic nerve. These cones, agreeing in number with the
facettes, play the part of the crystalline lens in the eyes of animals. They are
straight and parallel with each other. A pigment fills all the spaces between
the cones, and between the nervous filaments, and covers the under side of
each cornea, except at the centre. This pigment varies much in colour. There
are almost always two layers, of which the exterior one is the more brilliant.
In fact, these eyes often sparkle with fire, like precious stones.
M. Lacordaire, in his "Introduction à l'Entomologie," from which we
borrow the greater part of this information, has summed up as follows, the
manner in which, according to M. Müller, the visual organs of insects
operate:—
"Each facette, with its lens and nervous filament, separated from those
surrounding them by the pigment in which they are enclosed, form an
isolated apparatus, impenetrable to all rays of light, except those which fall
perpendicularly on the centre of the facette, which alone is devoid of
pigment. All rays falling obliquely are absorbed by that pigment which
surrounds the gelatinous cone. It results partly from this, and partly from the
immobility of the eye, that the field of vision of each facette is very limited,
and that there are as many objects reflected on the optic filaments as there

are corneæ. The extent, then, of the field of vision will be determined, not
by the diameter of these last, but by the diameter of the entire eye, and will
be in proportion to its size and convexity. But whatever may be the size of
the eyes, like their fields of vision, they are independent of each other; there
is always a space, greater or less, between them; and the insect cannot see
objects in front of this space without turning its head. What a peculiar
sensation must result from the multiplicity of images on the optic filaments!
This is not more easily explained than that which happens with animals
which, having two eyes, see only one image; and probably the same is the
case with insects. But these eyes usually look in opposite directions, and
should see two images, as in the chameleon, whose eyes move
independently of each other. The clearness and length of vision will depend,
continues M. Müller, on the diameter of the sphere of which the entire eye
forms a segment, on the number and size of the facettes, and the length of
the cones or lenses. The larger each facette, taken separately, and the more
brilliant the pigment placed between the lenses, the more distinct will be the
image of objects at a distance, and the less distinct that of objects near. With
the latter the luminous rays diverge considerably; while those from the
former are more parallel. In the first case, in traversing the pigment, they
impinge obliquely on the crystalline, and consequently confuse the vision;
in the second, they fall more perpendicularly on each facette.
"Objects do not appear of the same size to each optic filament, unless
the eye is a perfect section of a sphere, and its convexity concentric with
that of the optic nerve. Whenever it is otherwise, the image corresponds
more or less imperfectly with the size of the object, and is more or less
incorrect. Hence it follows, that elliptical or conical eyes, which one
generally finds among insects, are less perfect than those referred to above.
"The differences which exist in the organisation of the eye among
insects are explicable, to a certain point, on the theory which we are about
to explain in a few words. Those species which live in the same substances
on which they feed, and those which are parasitical, have small and
flattened eyes; those, on the contrary, which have to seek their food, and
which need to see objects at a distance, have large or very convex eyes. For
the same reason the males, which have to seek their females, have larger
eyes than the latter. The position of the eyes depends also on their size and
shape; those which are flat, and have consequently a short field of vision,

are placed close together, and rather in front than at the sides of the head,
and often adjoining. Spherical and convex eyes, on the contrary, are placed
on the sides, and their axes are opposite. But the greater field of vision
which they are able to take in makes up for this position."
Almost all insects are provided with a pair of compound eyes, which are
placed on the sides of the head. The size and form of these organs are very
variable, as we shall presently see. They are generally placed behind the
antennæ.
Although simple eyes (ocelli or stemmata) are common, they do not
exist in all the orders of insects. They are generally round, and more or less
convex and black, and there are three in the majority of cases. When there is
this number they are most frequently placed in a triangle behind, and at a
greater or less distance from the antennæ. Under the cornea, which varies in
convexity, is found a transparent, rather hard, and nearly globular body,
which is the true crystalline resting on a mass, which represents the vitreous
body. This vitreous body is enclosed in an expansion of the optic nerve.
Besides these, there is a pigment, most frequently red-brown, sometimes
black, or blood-red. The organisation of these eyes is analogous to the eyes
of fishes, and their refractive power is very great.
With these eyes insects can only see such objects as are at a short
distance. Of what use then can stemmata be to insects also provided with
compound eyes? It has been remarked that most insects having this
arrangement of eyes feed on the pollen of plants, and it has been surmised
that the stemmata enable them to distinguish the parts of the flowers.
The antennæ, commonly called horns, are two flexible appendages, of
very variable form, which are joined to different parts of the head, and are
always two in number. The joints of which they are made up have the power
of motion, which enables the insect to move them in any direction.
The antennæ consist of three parts: the basal joint, commonly
distinguished by its form, length, and colour; the club, formed by a gradual
or sudden thickening of the terminal joints, of which the number, form, and
size present great variations; lastly, the stalk, formed by all the joints of the
antennæ, except the basal, when no club exists, and in case of the existence
of a club, of all those between it and the basal one.

We give as examples the antennæ of two beetles, one of the genus
Asida, the other of the genus Zygia (Figs. 3 and 4).
Insects, for the most part, while in
repose, place their antennæ on their
backs, or along the sides of the head, or
even on the thorax. Others are provided
with cavities in which the antennæ
repose either wholly or in part.
During their different movements,
insects move their antennæ more or
less, sometimes slowly and with
regularity, at other times in all
directions. Some insects impart to their
antennæ a perpetual vibration. During Fig. 3. Fig. 4.
flight they are directed in front, Antenna of a Antenna of
perpendicular to the axis of the body, or species of Asida. Zygia oblonga.
else they repose on the back.
What is the use of the antennæ, resembling as they do, feathers, saws,
clubs, &c.? Everything indicates that these organs play a very important part
in the life of insects, but their functions are imperfectly understood.
Experience has shown that they only play a subordinate part as feelers, and
have nothing to do with the senses of taste or smell. There is no other
function for them to fulfil, except that of hearing.
On this hypothesis the antennæ will be the principal instruments for the
transmission of sound-waves. The membrane at their base represents a trace
of the tympanum which exists among the higher animals. This membrane
then will have some connection with an auditory nerve.
The mouth of insects is formed after two general types, which
correspond to two kinds of requirements. It is suited in the one case to break
solid substances, in the other to imbibe liquids.
At first sight there seems no similarity between the mouth of a biting
insect and of one living by suction. But on examination it is found that the
parts of the mouth in the one are exactly analogous to the same parts in the

other, and that they have only modifications suiting them to the different
purposes which they have to fulfil.
The mouth of a biting insect is composed of an upper lip, a pair of
mandibles, a pair of jaws, and a lower lip (Fig. 5).

Fig. 5.—Mouth of a masticating Fig. 6.—Thorax of Acrocinus longimanus (a
insect. beetle).

The lower lip and the jaws carry on the outside certain appendages or
filaments which have received the name of palpi.
When speaking of sucking insects, and in general of the various orders
of insects, we shall speak more in detail of the various parts of the mouth.
The thorax (Fig. 6), the second primary division of the body of insects,
plays almost as important a part as the head. It consists of three segments or
rings, which are in general joined together—the prothorax, the mesothorax,
and the metathorax, each of which bears a pair of legs. The wings are
attached to the two posterior segments.
All insects have six true legs. There is no exception whatever to this
rule, though some may not be developed.
From the segments to which they are attached, the legs are called
anterior, posterior, and intermediate. The legs are composed of four parts:
the trochanter, a short joint which unites the thigh to the body; the thigh or
femur; the tibia, answering to the shank in animals; and the tarsus, or foot,
composed of a variable number of pieces placed end to end, and called the
phalanges.
We take as examples the hind leg of a Heterocerus (Fig. 7), and the front
leg of a Zophosis (Fig. 8) (genera of beetles).

We shall not dwell on the different parts, as they perform functions
which will occupy us later, when speaking of the various species of the
great class of insects.
The functions which the legs of
insects have to perform consist in
walking, swimming, or jumping.
In walking, says M. Lacordaire,
insects move their legs in different
ways. Some move their six legs
successively, or only two or three at a
time without distinction, but never
both legs of the same pair together,
consequently one step is not the same
as another. The walk of insects is
sometimes very irregular, especially
when the legs are long; and they
often hop rather than walk. Others Fig. 7. Fig. 8.
have one kind of step, and walk very Hind leg of a Front leg of a
regularly. They commence by Heterocerus. Zophosis.
moving the posterior and anterior
legs on the same side and the
intermediate ones on the opposite
side. The first step made, these legs
are put down, and the others raised in
their turn to make a second.
Running does not change the
order of the movements, it only
makes them quicker—very rapid in
some species, and surpassing in
proportion that of all other animals; Fig. 9.—Posterior leg of a jumping insect.
but in others the pace is slow. Some
insects rather crawl than walk.
In swimming, the posterior legs play the principal part. The other legs
striking the water upwards or downwards, produce an upward or downward
motion. The animal changes its course at will by using the legs on one side

only, in the same way as one turns a rowing boat with one oar without the
aid of a rudder. Swimming differs essentially from walking, for the foot
being surrounded by a resisting medium, the legs on both sides are moved at
the same time.
The act of jumping is principally performed by the hind legs. Insects
which jump have these legs very largely developed, as in Fig. 9. When
about to jump they bring the tibia into contact with the thigh, which is often
furnished with a groove to receive it, having on each side a row of spines.
The leg then suddenly straightens like a spring, and the foot being placed
firmly on the ground, sends the insect into the air, and at the same time
propels forward. The jump is greater in proportion as the leg is longer.
To treat here in a general manner of the wings of insects would be
useless. We shall refer to them at length in their proper place, when treating
of the various types of winged insects.
In the perfect insect the abdomen does not carry either the wings or the
legs. It is formed of nine segments, which are without appendages, with the
exception of the posterior ones, which often carry small organs differing
much in form and function. These are saws, probes, forceps, stings, augers,
&c. We shall consider these different organs in their proper places.
With vertebrate animals, which have an interior skeleton suited to
furnish points of resistance for their various movements, the skin is a more
or less soft covering, uniformly diffused over the exterior of the body, and
intended only to protect it against external injury. In insects the points of
resistance are changed from the interior to the exterior. The skin is altered
by Nature to fit it to this purpose. It is hard, and presents between the
segments only membranous intervals, which allow the hard parts to move in
all directions.
We are examining a perfect insect; we have glanced at its skeleton, and
the different appendages which spring from it. The principal organs which
are contained in the body remain to be examined.
We will first study the digestive apparatus. This apparatus consists of a
lengthened tubular organ, swollen at certain points, forming more or less
numerous convolutions, and provided with two distinct orifices. This
alimentary canal is always situated in the median line of the body, traverses

its whole length, and is at first surrounded by, and then passes above, the
nervous ganglia. [1]
In its most complicated form the
alimentary canal is composed of an
œsophagus, or gullet, of a crop, of a
gizzard, of a chylific ventricle or
stomach, a small intestine, a large
intestine, divers appendages, salivary,
biliary, and urinary glands. The
œsophagus is often not wider than a hair,
and part of it in many species is enlarged
into a pouch, which is called the crop,
because it occupies the same position,
and performs analogous functions with
that organ in birds. It is enough to say
that the food remains there some time
before passing on to the other parts of
the intestinal canal, and undergoes a
certain amount of preparation. It is in the
gizzard, when one exists, that the food,
separated by the masticatory organs of
the mouth, undergoes another and more
complete grinding. Its structure is suited
to its office. It is, in fact, very muscular,
often half cartilaginous, and strongly
contractile. Its interior walls are Fig. 10.—Digestive apparatus of
provided with a grinding apparatus, Carabus auratus.
which varies according to the species,
and consists of teeth, plates, spines, and notches, which convert the food
into pulp. It only exists among insects which live on solid matters, hard
vegetables, small animals, tough skin, &c. This apparatus is absent in
sucking insects and those which live on soft substances, such as the pollen
of flowers, &c.
The chylific ventricle or stomach is never absent; it is the organ which
performs the principal part in the act of digestion.

Two kinds of appendages belong to the chylific ventricle, but only in
certain families. The first are papillæ, in the form of the fingers of a glove,
which bristle over the exterior of this organ, and in which it is believed that
the food begins to be converted into chyle. The second are cæca, and larger
and less numerous.
They have been considered as secretory organs, answering to the
pancreas in vertebrate animals.
Fig. 10, which represents the digestive apparatus of Carabus auratus, a
common beetle, presents to the eyes of the reader the different organs of
which we are speaking.
A is the mouth of the insect, B the œsophagus, C the
crop, D the gizzard, E the chylific ventricle, F and G
the small and large intestines, and H the anus.
It is not necessary to consider the other parts of
the alimentary canal in insects, but only to refer to
some of the appendages of this apparatus.
The salivary glands pour into the digestive tube a
liquid, generally colourless, which, from the place
where it is secreted, and its alkaline nature,
corresponds to the saliva in vertebrate animals. It is
this liquid which comes from the tongue of sucking
insects in the form of drops.
These glands are always two in number. Their
form is as variable as complicated. The most simple is
that of a closed flexible tube, generally rolled into a
ball, and opening on the sides of the œsophagus.
At the posterior extremity of the chylific ventricle
are inserted a variable number of fine tubes, usually
elongated and flexible, and terminating in culs-de-sac
at one end. Their colour, which depends on the liquid
they may contain, is sometimes white, but more
Fig. 11.—Posterior frequently brown, blackish, or green. They appear to
extremity of the chylific be composed of a very slight and delicate membrane,
as they are very easily torn, and nothing is more

ventricle, surrounded by difficult than to unroll and to disengage them from the
the Malpighian vessels. fatty or other tissues by which they are enveloped.
The function of these vessels is uncertain. Cuvier
and Léon Dufour supposed them to be analogous to the liver, and on that
account they have been called biliary vessels; and they are often termed the
Malpighian vessels, after the name of their discoverer.
According to M. Lacordaire, their functions vary with their position.
When they enter the chylific ventricle, they furnish only bile; bile and a
urinary liquid when they enter the posterior part of the ventricle and the
intestine; and urine alone when they are placed near the posterior extremity
of the alimentary canal.
Fig. 11 represents part of the preceding figure more highly magnified,
showing the manner in which these tubes enter the chylific ventricle.
In our rapid description of the digestive apparatus of insects, it only
remains for us to mention certain purifying organs which secrete those
fluids, generally blackish, caustic, or of peculiar smell, which some insects
emit when they are irritated, and which cause a smarting when they get into
one's eyes.
Less well developed than the salivary organs, they are often of a very
complicated structure. In Fig. 12 is represented the secretory apparatus of
the Carabus auratus, which will serve for an example: A represents the
secretory sacs aggregated together like a bunch of grapes, B the canal, C the
pouch which receives the secretion, D the excretory duct.
Sometimes the secretion is liquid, and has a fœtid or ammoniacal odour;
sometimes, as in the Bombardier beetle (Brachinus crepitans), it is gaseous,
and is emitted, with an explosion, in the form of a whitish vapour, having a
strong pungent odour analogous to that of nitric acid, and the same
properties. It reddens litmus paper, and burns and reddens the skin, which
after a time becomes brown, and continues so for a considerable time.
About the middle of the seventeenth century Malpighi at Bologna, and
Swammerdam at Utrecht, discovered a pulsatory organ occupying a median
line of the back, which appeared to them to be a heart, in different insects.
Nevertheless, Cuvier, having declared some time afterwards that there was

no circula tion, properly so called, among
insects, his opinion was universally adopted.
But in 1827 a German naturalist named
Carus discovered that there were real
currents of blood circulating throughout the
body, and returning to their point of
departure. The observations of Carus were
repeated and confirmed by many other
naturalists, and we are thus enabled to form
a sufficiently exact idea of the manner in
which the blood circulates.
The following summary of the
phenomena of circulation among insects is
borrowed from "Leçons sur la Physiologie et
l'Anatomie comparée," by M. Milne-
Edwards:—
The tube which passes under the skin of
Fig. 12.
the back of the head, and front part of the
Secretory apparatus of Carabus
body, above the alimentary canal, has been
auratus.
known for a long time as the dorsal vessel. It
is composed of two very distinct portions:
the anterior, which is tubular and not contractile; and the posterior, which is
larger, of more complicated structure, and which contracts and dilates at
regular intervals.
This latter part constitutes, then, more particularly the heart of the
insect. Generally it occupies the whole length of the abdomen, and is fixed
to the vault of the tegumentary skeleton by membranous expansions, in such
a manner as to leave a free space around it, but shut above and below, so as
to form a reservoir into which the blood pours before penetrating to the
heart. This reservoir is often called the auricle, for it seems to act as an
instrument of impulsion, and to drive the blood into the ventricle or heart,
properly so called.
The heart is fusiform, and is divided by numerous constrictions into
chambers. These chambers have exits placed in pairs, and membranous
folds which divide the cavity in the manner of a portcullis. The lips of the

orifices, instead of terminating in a clean edge, penetrate into the interior of
the heart in the form of the mouth-piece of a flute. The double membranous
folds thus formed on each side of the dorsal vessel are in the shape of a half
moon, and separate from each other when this organ dilates; but the
contrary movement taking place, the passage is closed.
By the aid of this valvular apparatus, the blood can penetrate into the
heart from the pericardic chamber, the empty space surrounding the heart,
but cannot flow back from the heart into that reservoir.
The anterior or aortic portion of the dorsal vessels shows neither fan-
shaped lateral expansions, nor orifices, and consists of a single membranous
tube. The whole of the blood set in motion by the contractions of the cardial
portion of the dorsal vessel runs into the cavity of the head, and circulates
afterwards in irregular channels formed by the empty spaces left between
the different organs. It is the unoccupied portions of the great visceral cavity
which serve as channels for the blood, and through them run the main
currents to the lateral and lower parts of the body. These currents regain the
back part of the abdomen, and enter the heart after having passed over the
internal organs. These principal channels are in continuity with other gaps
between the muscles, or between the bundles of fibres of which these
muscles are composed.
The principal currents send into the network thus formed, minor
branches, which having ramified in their turn among the principal parts of
the organism, re-enter some main current to regain the dorsal vessel.
In the transparent parts of the body the blood may be seen circulating in
this way to a number of inter-organic channels, penetrating the limbs and
the wings, when these appendages are not horny, and, in short, diffusing
itself everywhere. "If, by means of coloured injections," says M. Milne-
Edwards, "one studies the connections which exist between the cavities in
which sanguineous currents have been found to exist and the rest of the
economy, it is easy to see that the irrigatory system thus formed penetrates
to the full depth of every organ, and should cause the rapid renewal of the
nourishing fluid in all the parts where the process of vitality renders the
passage of this fluid necessary."
We shall see presently, in speaking of respiration, that the relations
between the nourishing fluid and the atmospheric air are more direct and

regular than was for a long time supposed.
In short, insects possess an active circulation, although we find neither
arteries nor veins, and although the blood put in motion by the contractions
of the heart, and carried to the head by the aortic portion of the dorsal
vessel, can only distribute itself in the different parts of the system to return
to the heart, by the gaps left between the different organs, or between the
membranes and fibres of which these organs are composed.
Fig. 13 (page 14), which shows both the circulating and breathing
systems of an insect, enables us to recognise the different organs which we
have described, as helping to keep up both respiration and circulation.
The knowledge of the respiration of the insect is comparatively a
modern scientific acquisition. Malpighi was the first to prove, in 1669, that
insects are provided with organs of respiration, and that air is as
indispensable to them as it is to other living beings. But the opinion of this
celebrated naturalist has been contradicted, and his views were long
contested. Now, however, one can easily recognise the apparatus by the aid
of which the respiration of the insect is effected.

Fig. 13.—Organs of circulation and breathing in an
insect.
A, abdominal portion of the dorsal vessel. B, aortic
or thoracic portion. C, air-vessels of the head; D, of
the abdomen.

The respiratory apparatus is essentially composed of membranous ducts
of great tenuity, their ramifications spread everywhere in incalculable
numbers, and bury themselves in the different organs, much in the same
way as the fibrous roots of plants bury themselves in the soil. These vessels
are called tracheæ. Their communications with the air are established
externally in different ways, according to the character of the medium in
which the insect lives.
It is well known that a vast number of insects live in the air. The air
penetrates into the tracheæ by a number of orifices placed at the sides of the

body, which are termed spiracles. On close examination these may be seen
in the shape of button-holes in a number of different species. Let us dwell
for a moment on the breathing apparatus of the insect, that is to say, on the
tracheæ.
This apparatus is sometimes composed of elastic tubes only, sometimes
of a collection of tubes and membranous pouches. We will first treat of the
former.
The coats of these breathing tubes are very elastic, and always preserve
a cylindrical form, even when not distended. This state of things is
maintained by the existence, throughout the whole length of the tracheæ, of
a thread of half horny consistency, rolled up in a spiral, and covered
externally by a very delicate membranous sheath. The external membrane is
thin, smooth, and generally colourless, or of a pearly white. The
cartilaginous spiral is sometimes cylindrical and sometimes flat. It only
adheres slightly to the external membrane, but is, on the other hand, closely
united to the internal one. This spiral thread is only continuous in the same
trunk; it breaks off when it branches, and each branch then possesses its
own thread, in such a way that it is not joined to the thread of the trunk from
which it issued, except by continuity, just as the branch of a tree is attached
to the stem which supports it. This thread is prolonged, without interruption,
to the extreme points of the finest ramifications.
The number of tracheæ in the body of an insect is very great. That
patient anatomist, Lyonet, has proved this in his great work on the Goat-
moth Caterpillar, Cossus ligniperda. Lyonet, who congratulated himself
with having finished his long labours without having had to destroy more
than eight or nine of the species he wished to describe, had the patience to
count the different air-tubes in that caterpillar. He found that there were 256
longitudinal and 1,336 transverse branches; in short, that the body of this
creature is traversed in all directions by 1,572 aeriferous tubes which are
visible to the eye by the aid of a magnifying glass, without taking into
account those which may be imperceptible.
The complicated system of the breathing apparatus which we are
describing is sometimes composed of an assemblage of tubes and
membranous pouches, besides the elastic tubes which we have already
mentioned. These pouches vary in size, and are very elastic, expanding

when the air enters, and contracting when it leaves them, as they are
altogether without the species of framework formed by the spiral thread of
the tubular tracheæ, of which they are only enlargements.
Fig. 13 is explanatory of these organs of respiration.
The respiratory mechanism of an insect is easily understood. "The
abdominal cavity," says M. Milne-Edwards, "in which is placed the greater
part of the respiratory apparatus, is susceptible of being contracted and
dilated alternately by the play of the different segments of which the
skeleton is composed, and which are placed in such a manner that they can
be drawn into each other to a greater or less extent. When the insect
contracts its body, the tracheæ are compressed and the air driven out. But
when, on the other hand, the visceral cavity assumes its normal size, or
dilates, these channels become larger, and the air with which they are filled
being rarefied by this expansion, is no longer in equilibrium with the outer
air with which it is in communication through the medium of the spiracles.
The exterior air is then impelled into the interior of the respiratory tubes,
and the inspiration is effected."
The respiratory movements can be accelerated or diminished, according
to the wants of the animal; in general, there are from thirty to fifty to the
minute. In a state of repose the spiracles are open, and all the tracheæ are
free to receive air whenever the visceral cavity is dilated, but those orifices
may be closed, and the insect thus possesses the faculty of stopping all
communication between the respiratory apparatus and the surrounding
atmosphere.
Some insects live in the water; they are therefore obliged to come to the
surface to take the air they are in need of, or else to possess themselves of
the small amount contained in the water. Both these methods of respiration
exist under different forms in aquatic insects.
To inhale atmospheric air, which is necessary for respiration, above the
water, certain insects employ their elytra [2] as a sort of reservoir; others
make use of their antennæ, the hairs of which retain the globules of air. In
this case it is brought under the thorax, whence a groove carries it to the
spiracles. Sometimes the same result is obtained by a more complicated
arrangement, consisting of respiratory tubes which can be thrust into the air,
which it is their function to introduce into the organisation.

Insects which breathe in the water without
rising to the surface are provided with gills—
organs which, though variable in form,
generally consist of foliaceous or fringed
expansions, in the midst of which the tracheæ
ramify in considerable numbers. These vessels
are filled with air, but it does not disseminate
itself in them directly, and it is only through the
walls of these tubes that the contained gas is
exchanged for the air held in suspension by the
surrounding water. The oxygen contained in the
water passes through certain very permeable
membranes of the gill, and penetrates the
tracheæ, which discharge, in exchange,
carbonic acid, which is the gaseous product of
respiration.
Fig. 14 represents the gills or breathing
apparatus in an aquatic insect. We take as an
example Ephemera. [3] It may be observed that
the gills or foliaceous laminæ are placed at the
circumference of the body, and at its smallest
parts.
We have now seen that the respiratory Fig. 14.
apparatus is considerably developed in insects; Branchiæ, or gills, of an aquatic
it is, therefore, easy to foresee that those larva
functions are most actively employed by them. (Ephemera).
In fact, if one compares the oxygen they imbibe A, foliaceous laminæ, or gills.
with the heavy organic matter of which their
body is composed, the amount is enormous.
Before finishing this rapid examination of the body of an insect, we
shall have to say a few words on the nervous system.
This system is chiefly composed of a double series of ganglions, or
collections of nerves, which are united together by longitudinal cords. The
number of these ganglions corresponds with that of the segments.
Sometimes they are at equal distances, and extend in a chain from one end

of the body to the other; at others they are many of them close together, so
as to form a single mass.
The cephalic ganglions are two in number; they have been described by
anatomists under the name of brain. "This expression," says M. Lacordaire,
"would be apt to mislead the reader, as it would induce him to suppose the
existence of a concentration of faculties to control the feelings and excite
the movements, which is not the case." [4] The same naturalist observes,
"All the ganglions of the ventral chain are endowed with nearly the same
properties, and represent each other uniformly."
The ganglion situated above the œsophagus gives rise to the optic
nerves, which are the most considerable of all those of the body, and to the
nerves of the antennæ. The ganglion beneath the œsophagus provides the
nerves of the mandibles, of the jaws, and of the lower lip. The three pairs of
ganglions which follow those placed immediately below the œsophagus,
belong to the three segments of the thorax, and give rise to the nerves of the
feet and wings. They are in general more voluminous than the following
pairs, which occupy the abdomen.
Fig. 15 represents the nervous system of the Carabus auratus: A is the
cephalic ganglion; B, the sub-œsophagian ganglion; C, the prothoracic
ganglion; D and E are the ganglions of the mesothorax and metathorax. The
remainder, F F, are the abdominal ganglions.

Fig. 15.—Nervous system of Carabus auratus.

Before finishing these preliminary observations, it is necessary to say
that the preceding remarks only apply absolutely to insects arrived at the
perfect state. It is important to make this remark, as insects, before arriving
at that state, pass through various other stages. These stages are often so
different from each other, that it would be difficult to imagine that they are
only modifications of the same animal; one would suppose that they were as
many different kinds of animals, if there was not abundant proof of the
contrary.
The successive stages through which an insect passes are four in
number:—the egg; the larva; the pupa, nymph, or chrysalis; and the perfect
insect, or imago.
The egg state, which is common to them, as to all other articulate
animals, it is unnecessary to explain. Nearly all insects lay eggs, though

some few are viviparous. There often exists in the extremity of the abdomen
of the female a peculiar organ, called the ovipositor, which is destined to
make holes for the reception of the eggs. By a wonderful instinct the mother
always lays her eggs in a place where her young, on being hatched, can find
an abundance of nutritious substances. It will not be needless to observe that
in most cases, these aliments are quite different to those which the mother
seeks for herself.
In the second stage, that is to say, on leaving the egg—the larva period
—the insect presents itself in a soft state, without wings, and resembles a
worm. In ordinary language, it is nearly always called a worm, or grub, and
in certain cases, a caterpillar.
Linnæus was the first to use the term "larva"—taken from the Latin
word larva, "a mask"—as he considered that, in this form, the insect was as
it were masked. During this period of its life the insect eats voraciously, and
often changes its skin. At a certain period it ceases to eat, retires to some
hidden spot, and, after changing its skin for the last time, enters the third
stage of its existence, and becomes a chrysalis. In this state it resembles a
mummy enveloped in bandages, or a child in its swaddling clothes. It is
generally incapable of either moving or nourishing itself. It continues so for
days, weeks, months, and sometimes even for years.
While the insect is thus apparently dead, a slow but certain change is
going on in the interior of its body. A marvellous work, though not visible
outside, is being effected, for the different organs of the insect are
developing by degrees under the covering which surrounds them. When
their formation is complete, the insect disengages itself from the narrow
prison in which it was enclosed, and makes its appearance, provided with
wings, and capable of propagating its kind; in short, of enjoying all the
faculties which Nature has accorded to its species. It has thrown off the
mask; the larva and pupa has disappeared, and given place to the perfect
insect.
To show the reader the four states through which the insect passes in
succession, in Fig. 16 is represented the insect known as the Hydrophilus, [5]
firstly, in the egg state; secondly, as the larva, or caterpillar; thirdly in the
pupa; and fourthly as the perfect insect or imago. The different degrees of
transformation and evolution which we have just described, are those which

take place either completely or incompletely in all insects. Their
metamorphoses are then at an end. There are certain insects, however, that
show no difference in their various stages, except by absence of wings in
the larva; and in these the chrysalis is only characterised by the growth of
the wings, which, at first folded back and hidden under the skin, afterwards
become free, but are not wholly developed till the last skin is cast. These
insects are said to undergo incomplete metamorphoses, the former complete
metamorphoses. Some never possess wings; indeed, there are others which
undergo no metamorphosis, and are born possessed of all the organs with
which it is necessary they should be provided.

Fig. 16.—Hydrophilus in its four states.
A, eggs; B, larva; C, pupa; D, imago, or perfect insect.

Some curious researches have been lately made on the strength of
insects. M. Felix Plateau, of Brussels, has published some observations on
this point, which we think of sufficient interest to reproduce here.
In order to measure the muscular strength of man, or of animals—as the
horse, for instance—many different dynamometric apparatuses have been

invented, composed of springs, or systems of unequal levers. The Turks'
heads which are seen at fairs, or in the Champs Élysées, at Paris, and on
which the person who wishes to try his strength gives a strong blow with his
fist, represent a dynamometer of this kind. The one which Buffon had
constructed by Régnier the mechanician, and which is known by the name
of Régnier's Dynamometer, is much more precise. It consists of an oval
spring, of which the two ends approach each other; when they are pulled in
opposite directions, a needle, which works on a dial marked with figures,
indicates the force exercised on the spring. It has been proved, with this
instrument, that the muscular effort of a man pulling with both hands is
about 124 lbs., and that of a woman only 74 lbs. The ordinary effort of
strength of a man in lifting a weight is 292 lbs.; and a horse, in pulling,
shows a strength of 675 lbs.; a man, under the same circumstances,
exhibiting a strength of 90 lbs.
Physiologists have not as yet given their attention to the strength of
invertebrate animals. It is, relatively speaking, immense. Many people have
observed how out of proportion a jump of a flea is to its size. A flea is not
more than an eighth of an inch in length, and it jumps a yard; in proportion,
a lion ought to jump two-thirds of a mile. Pliny shows, in his "Natural
History," that the weights carried by ants appear exceedingly great when
they are compared with the size of these indefatigable labourers. The
strength of these insects is still more striking, when one considers the
edifices they are able to construct, and the devastations they occasion. The
Termes, or White Ant,[6] constructs habitations many yards in height, which
are so firmly and solidly built, that the buffaloes are able to mount them,
and use them as observatories; they are made of particles of wood joined
together by a gummy substance, and are able to resist even the force of a
hurricane.
There is another circumstance which is worth being noted. Man is proud
of his works; but what are they, after all, in comparison with those of the
ant, taking the relative heights into consideration? The largest pyramid in
Egypt is only 146 yards high, that is, about ninety times the average height
of man; whereas, the nests of the Termites are a thousand times the height of
the insects which construct them. Their habitations are thus twelve times
higher than the largest specimen of architecture raised by human hands. We

are, therefore, far beneath these little insects, as far as strength and the spirit
of working go.
The destructive power of these creatures, so insignificant in appearance,
are still more surprising. During the spring of a single year they can effect
the ruin of a house by destroying the beams and planks. The town of La
Rochelle, to which the Termites were imported by an American ship, is
menaced with being eventually suspended on catacombs, like the town of
Valencia in New Grenada. It is well known what destruction is caused when
a swarm of locusts alight in a cultivated field; and it is certain that even their
larvæ do as severe injury as the perfect insect. All this sufficiently proves
the destructive capabilities of these little animals, which we are accustomed
to despise.
M. Plateau has studied the power of traction in some insects, the power
of pushing in the digging insects, and the lifting power of others during
flight. He has thus been able to make some most interesting comparisons, of
some of which we will relate the results.
The average weight of man being 142 lbs., and his power of traction,
according to Régnier, being 124 lbs., the proportion of the weight he can
draw to the weight of his body is only as 87 to 100. With the horse the
proportion is not more than 67 to 100, a horse 1,350 lbs. in weight only
drawing about 900 lbs. The horse, therefore, can draw little more than half
his own weight, and a man cannot draw the weight of his own body.
This is a very poor result, if compared with the strength of the
cockchafer. This insect, in fact, possesses a power of traction equal to more
than fourteen times its own weight. If you amuse yourself with the
children's game of making a cockchafer draw small cargoes of stones, you
will be surprised at the great weight which this insignificant looking animal
is able to manage.
To test the power of traction in insects, M. Plateau attached them to a
weight by means of a thread fastened to one of their feet. The Coleoptera
(Beetles) are the best adapted for these experiments.
The following are some of the results obtained by the Belgian physician:
—Carabus auratus can draw seven times the weight of its body; Nebria
brevicollis, twenty-five times; Necrophorus vespillo, fifteen times; Trichius

fasciatus, forty-one times; and Oryctes nasicornis, four times only. The bee
can draw twenty times the weight of its body; Donacia nymphæ [7] forty-
two times its own weight.
From this it follows that if the horse possessed the same strength as this
last insect, or if the insect were the size of a horse, they would either of
them be able to draw 155,250 lbs. M. Plateau has ascertained the pushing
power in insects, by introducing them into a pasteboard tube, the interior of
which was made rough, and in which was fixed a glass plate, which allowed
the light to penetrate into the prison. The animal, if excited, struggled with
all its strength against the transparent plate, which, on being pushed
forward, turned a lever adapted to a miniature dynamometer, which
indicated the amount of effort exercised.
The results thus obtained prove that the pushing power, like the power
of traction, is greater in inverse proportion to the size and weight of the
animal. A few figures will better explain this curious law. In Oryctes
nasicornis the proportion of the pushing power to the weight of the insect is
only three to two; in Geotrupes stercorarius it is sixteen to two; and in
Onthophagus nuchicornis seventy-nine to six.
Experiments have been made on the lifting power of insects by fastening
a ball of soft wax to a thread attached to the hind legs. The proportion of the
weight lifted has been found equal to that of the body. That is to say, that the
insect, when flying, can lift its own weight. This is proved by the following
calculations:—In the Neuroptera the proportion is 1 in the Dragon-fly
(Libellula vulgata), ·7 in Lestes sponsa. In the order Hymenoptera it is ·78
in the bee, and ·63 in Bombus terrestris, the humble-bee. In the Diptera it is
·9 in Calliphora vomitoria, [8] 1·84 in the Syrphus corollæ, and 1·77 in the
house-fly.
These results show that insects have only sufficient power to sustain
their own weight when flying, as the above calculations exhibit the
maximum of which they are capable, and at the utmost this strength would
only compensate for the fatigue occasioned by the action of flight.
At the same time it is to be observed that the Diptera, and among others
the house-fly, can sustain their flight longer than the Hymenoptera and
Neuroptera, although one would not think so from their appearance. In
conclusion, if an insect's power of flying is not considerable, its power of

traction and propulsion are immense, compared with the vertebrate animals;
and, in the same group of insects, those that are the smallest and lightest are
the strongest. The proportion between the muscular strength of insects and
the dimensions of their bodies, would not appear to be on account of their
muscles being more numerous than those of vertebrate animals, but on
account of greater intrinsic energy and muscular activity. The articulations
of insects may be considered as solid cases which envelop the muscles, and
the thickness of these cases appears to decrease in a singular manner
according to the size of the creature. The relative bulk of the muscles being
less in the smaller species than in the larger, it is necessary to explain the
superior relative strength of the former by supposing them to possess a
greater amount of vital energy.
These astonishing phenomena will perhaps be better understood if we
consider the obstacles which insects have to overcome to satisfy their wants,
to seek their food, to defend themselves against their enemies, &c.
To meet these requirements they are marvellously constructed for both
labour and warfare, and their strength is superior to that displayed by all
other animals. It is also much greater than that of the machines we construct
to replace manual labour. They represent strength itself. God's workmen are
infinitely more powerful than those invented by the genius of man, which
we call machines.
We think it necessary, in closing this chapter, to give a sort of general
outline of the great class of animals which we are about to study. If we
wished to characterise insects by their exterior aspect, we might consider
them as articulate animals, whose bodies, covered with tough and
membranous integuments, are divided into three distinct parts: the head,
provided with two antennæ, and eyes and mouth of very variable form; a
trunk or thorax, composed of three segments, which has underneath it
always six articulated limbs, and often above it two or four wings; and an
abdomen, composed of nine segments, although some may not appear to
exist at first sight.
If, in addition to these characteristics, one considers that these animals
are not provided with interior skeletons—that their nervous system is
formed of a double cord, swelling at intervals, and placed along the under-
side of the body, with the exception of the first swellings or ganglions which

are under the head—that they are not provided with a complete circulating
system—that they breathe by particular organs, termed tracheæ, extending
parallel to each other along each side of the body, and communicating with
the exterior air by lateral openings termed spiracles—that their sexes are
distinct—that they are reproduced from eggs—and, in conclusion, that the
different parts we have mentioned are not complete until the creature has
passed through several successive changes, called metamorphoses, a general
idea may be formed of what is meant in zoology by the word "insect."
Insects, whose general organisation we have briefly traced, have been
classed by naturalists as follows:—
1. Aptera (Fleas and Lice).
2. Diptera (Gnats, Flies, &c.)
3. Hemiptera (Bugs, &c.)
4. Lepidoptera (Butterflies and Moths).
5. Orthoptera (Grasshoppers, Crickets, Cockroaches, &c.)
6. Hymenoptera (Bees, Wasps, &c.)
7. Thysanoptera (Thrips cerealium).
8. Neuroptera (Libellula, or Dragon-fly; Ephemera, or May-fly;
Phryganea, or Alder-fly).
9. Coleoptera (Beetles).
We shall commence the history of the various orders by examining the
Aptera.

I.

APTERA.

Insects of this order are without wings, and the name is derived from
two Greek words, α, privative, and πτερον, wing, indicating the negative
character which constitutes this order. [9] It consists of Fleas and Lice. The
Flea (Pulex), of which De Geer formed a separate group, and called
Suctoria, includes several species.
The common flea (Pulex irritans, Fig. 17) has a body of oval form,
somewhat flattened, covered with a rather hard horny skin of a brilliant
chestnut brown colour. It is the breaking of this hard skin which produces
the little crack which is heard when, after a successful hunt, one has the
happiness to crush one of these parasites between one's nails.
Its head, small in proportion to the body, is
compressed, and carries two small antennæ, of
cylindrical form, composed of four joints, which the
animal shakes continually when in motion, but which it
lowers and rests in front of its head when in a state of
repose. The eyes are simple, large, and round. The beak
Fig. 17.
is composed of an exterior jointed sheath, having inside
it a tube, and carrying underneath two long sharp Flea (Pulex irritans).
lancets, with cutting and saw-like edges. It is with this
instrument that the flea pierces the skin, irritates it, and causes the blood on
which it lives to flow.
This bite, as every one knows, is easily recognised by the presence of
small darkish red spots, surrounded by a circle of a paler colour. The
quantity of blood absorbed by this little creature is enormous, when
compared with its size.
The body of the flea is divided into thirteen segments, of which one
forms the head; three the thorax, which is short, and the remainder the
abdomen.
The limbs are long, strong, and spiny. The tarsus, or foot, has five joints,
and terminates in hooks turned in opposite directions. The two anterior
limbs are separated from the others, and are inserted nearly under the head;
the posterior ones are particularly large and strong.
The jumps which fleas are able to make are really gigantic, and the
strength of these little animals quite herculean, when compared with the size

of their bodies. The reader may be inclined to smile at the assertion that the
flea possesses herculean strength; but let him wait a little, and he will find
that it is no exaggeration.
To give some idea of the strength, the docility, and the goodwill of the
fleas, some wonderful little things have been made, which have served at
the same time to show the astonishing skill of certain workmen.
In his "Histoire abrégée des Insectes," published in the seventh year of
the French Republic, Geoffroy relates that a certain Mark, an Englishman,
had succeeded, by dint of patience and art, in making a gold chain the
length of a finger, with a padlock and a key to fasten it, not exceeding a
single grain in weight. A flea attached to the chain pulled it easily. The same
learned writer relates a still more surprising fact. An English workman
constructed a carriage and six horses of ivory. The coachman was on the
box, with a dog between his legs, there were also a postillion, four persons
in the carriage, and two servants behind, and the whole of this was drawn by
one flea.
In his "Histoire Naturelle des Insectes Aptères," Baron Walckenaer
relates the following marvellous instance of industry, patience, and
dexterity:—
"I think it is about fifteen years ago, that the whole population of Paris
could see the following wonders exhibited on the Place de la Bourse for
sixty centimes. They were the learned fleas. I have seen and examined them
with entomological eyes, assisted by a glass.
"Thirty fleas went through military exercise, and stood upon their hind
legs, armed with pikes, formed of very small splinters of wood.
"Two fleas were harnessed to and drew a golden carriage with four
wheels and a postillion. A third flea was seated on the coach-box, and held a
splinter of wood for a whip. Two other fleas drew a cannon on its carriage;
this little trinket was admirably finished, not a screw or a nut was wanting.
These and other wonders were performed on polished glass. The flea-horses
were fastened by a gold chain attached to the thighs of their hind legs,
which I was told was never taken off. They had lived thus for two years and
a half, not one having died during the period. To be fed, they were placed on
a man's arm, which they sucked. When they were unwilling to draw the

cannon or the carriage, the man took a burning coal, and on it being moved
about near them, they were at once roused, and recommenced the
performances."
The learned fleas were the admiration and amazement of Paris, Lyons,
and the chief provincial towns of France, in 1825.
But how, one will ask, was it possible in a large public room to see this
wonderful sight? And it is necessary that this should be explained. The
spectators were seated in front of a curtain, provided with magnifying
glasses, through which they looked, as they would at a diorama of
landscapes or buildings.
But let us return to the natural history of our insect. The female flea lays
from eight to twelve eggs, which are of oval shape, smooth, viscous, and
white.
Contrary to what one might think, à priori, the flea does not fix its eggs
to the skin of its victims. She lets them drop on the ground, between the
boards of floors, or old furniture, and among dirty linen and rubbish.
M. Defrance has remarked that there are always found mixed with the
eggs a certain number of grains of a brilliant black colour, which are simply
dried blood. This is a provision which the foreseeing mother has prepared at
our expense to nourish her young offspring.
In four or five days in summer, and in eleven days in winter, one may
see coming out of these eggs small, elongated larvæ, of cylindrical form,
covered with hair, and divided into three parts, the last provided with two
small hooks. The head is scaly above, has two small antennæ, and is without
eyes. These larvæ are without limbs, but they can twist about, roll
themselves over and over, and even advance pretty fast by raising their
heads. Though at first white, they become afterwards of a reddish colour.
About a fortnight after they are hatched they cease to eat, and are
immovable, as if about to die. They then commence to make a small,
whitish, silky cocoon, in which they are transformed into pupæ. In another
fortnight these pupæ become perfect insects.
A most remarkable trait, and unique among insects, has been observed
in the flea. The mother disgorges into the mouths of the larvæ the blood
with which she is filled.

The flea is most abundant in Europe and the North of Africa. Certain
circumstances particularly favour its multiplication; being most abundant in
dirty houses, in barracks, and in camps; in deserted buildings, in ruins, and
in places frequented by people of uncleanly habits.
Other kinds of fleas live on animals, as, for example, the cat flea, the
dog flea, and those of the pigeon and poultry.
We shall say a few words about a peculiar species which abounds in all
the hot parts of America, but principally in the Brazils and the neighbouring
countries. This formidable species is the Chigo (Pulex penetrans).
The chigo, called also the tick, is smaller than the common flea. It is
flat, brown with a white spot on the back, and is armed with a strong
pointed stiff beak, provided with three lancets. It is with this instrument that
the female attacks man with the intention of lodging in his skin and bringing
forth her young there.
The chigo attacks chiefly the feet. It slips in between the flesh and the
nails, or gets under the skin of the heel. Notwithstanding the length of the
animal's beak, introducing itself beneath the skin does not at first cause any
pain; but after a few days one is made aware of its presence by an itching,
which, though at first slight, gradually increases, and ends by becoming
unbearable.
The chigo, when under the skin, betrays itself by a bump outside. Its
body has now become as large as a pea; in the attacked skin a large brown
bag containing matter is formed. In this bag are collected the eggs, which
issue from an orifice in the posterior extremity, and are not hatched in the
wound itself, as was long thought to be the case.
The chigoes are an object of terror to the Brazilian negroes. These
formidable parasites sometimes attack the whole of the foot, which they
devour, and thus bring on mortification; many negroes losing the bones of
some of their toes by the ravages of these dangerous creatures. To guard
against their attacks, they wear thick shoes, and examine their feet carefully
every day. The plan usually followed in the Brazils to prevent the chigoes
from injuring the feet, is to employ children, who, by their sharpness of
sight, can easily perceive the red spot on the skin where the chigo has
entered. These children are in the habit of extracting the insect from the

wound by means of a needle. But this is not without risk; as, if any portion
of the insect remains in the wound, a dangerous inflammation may ensue.
For this reason, operators who are renowned for their skill are much sought
after, flattered, and rewarded by the poor negroes of the plantations.
The Head Louse (Pediculus capitis, Fig. 18) is an insect
with a flat body, slightly transparent, and of greyish colour,
spotted with black on the spiracles, soft in the middle, and
rather hard at the sides. The head, which is oval, is
furnished with two thread-like antennæ, composed of five
joints, which are constantly in motion while the creature is
walking; it is also furnished with two simple, round, black Fig. 18.—Louse
eyes; and lastly, with a mouth. In the front of the head is a (Pediculus
short, conical, fleshy nipple. This nipple contains a sucker, capitis)
or rostrum, which the animal can put out when it likes, and magnified.
which, when extended, represents a tubular body,
terminating in six little pointed hooks, bent back, and
serving to retain the instrument in the skin. This organ is surmounted by
four fine hairs, fixed to one another, and seated in its interior. It is by means
of this complicated apparatus that the louse pricks and sucks the skin of the
head. The thorax is nearly square, and divided into three parts by deep
incisions. The abdomen, strongly lobed at the sides, is composed of eight
rings, and is provided with sixteen spiracles. The limbs consist of a
trochanter, a thigh, a shank, and a tarsus of a single joint, and are very thick.
A strong nail, which folds back on an indented projection, thus forming a
pincer, terminates the tarsus. It is with this pincer that the louse fastens itself
to the hair.
Lice are oviparous. Their eggs, which remain sticking to the hair, are
long and white, and are commonly called "nits." The young are hatched in
the course of five or six days; and in eighteen days are able to reproduce
their kind. Leuwenhoek calculated that in two months two female lice could
produce ten thousand! Other naturalists have asserted that the second
generation of a single individual can amount to two thousand five hundred,
and the third, to a hundred and twenty-five thousand! Happily for the
victims of these disgusting parasites, their reproduction is not generally to
this prodigious extent.

Many means are employed to kill lice. Lotions of the smaller centaury
or of stavesacre, and pomatum mixed with mercurial ointment, are very
efficacious. But the surest and easiest remedy is to put plenty of oil on the
head. The oil kills the lice by obstructing their tracheæ, and thus stopping
respiration.
There are other kinds of lice, but we will only mention the louse which
infests beggars and people of unclean habits, Pediculus humanus corporis,
producing the complaint called phthiriasis. In the victims of this disease
these parasites increase with fearful rapidity. This dreadful disorder is often
mentioned by the ancients. King Antiochus, the philosopher Pherecydes of
Scyros, the contemporary and friend of Thales, the dictator Sylla, Agrippa,
and Valerius Maximus, are said to have been attacked by phthiriasis, and
even to have died of it. Amatus Lusitanus, a Portuguese doctor of the
sixteenth century, relates that lice increased so quickly and to such an extent
on a rich nobleman attacked with phthiriasis, that the whole duty of two of
his servants consisted in carrying away, and throwing into the sea, whole
basketfuls of the vermin, which were continually escaping from the person
of their noble master.
Little is known at the present day of the details of this complaint, though
it is observed frequently enough in some parts of the south of Europe, where
the dirty and miserable inhabitants are a prey to poverty and uncleanliness
—two misfortunes which often go together. In Gallicia, in Poland, in the
Asturias, and in Spain, we may find many victims of phthiriasis.
Lice increase with such rapidity on persons thus attacked, that it is
common to attribute their appearance to spontaneous generation alone. But
the prodigious rapidity of reproduction in these insects sufficiently explains
their increase, especially when it is admitted that it is possible for the female
louse to reproduce young without the agency of the male.
The Thysanura or "Skip Tail" tribe are small insects, which are better
known on account of the beauty of their microscopic body scales than for
any interesting habits or instincts. They do not undergo metamorphosis.
The Fish Scale or Lepisma saccharina, and the Skip Tail or Podura
plumbea belong to the Thysanura.

II.

DIPTERA.
All suctorial insects which in the perfect state possess only two
membranous wings, are called Diptera, from two Greek words—δις, twice,
and πτερον, wing.
The Diptera were known and scientifically described at a very early
date. They are frequently mentioned by Aristotle in his "History of
Animals;" and he applied the term to the same insects as now constitute the
order.
The absence of the second wings, common to other insects, which are in
this case replaced by two appendages, which have received the name of
balancers, [10] because they serve to regulate the action of flight, constitutes
the chief characteristic of the Diptera. Let us, however, give a glance at their
other organs, which have more or less affinity with those which exist in
other classes of insects, preserving, nevertheless, their own especial
characteristics.
The mouth, for instance—suited for suction only—is in the form of a
trunk, and is composed of a sheath, a sucker, and two palpi. The antennæ
are generally composed of only three joints. The eyes—usually two in
number—are very large, and sometimes take up nearly the whole of the
head. They are both simple and compound. The wings are membranous,
delicate, and veined; the limbs long and slight. In giving the history of the
principal types of Diptera, we shall explain more fully the formation of
these organs.
The Diptera, by their rapid flight, enliven both the earth and the air. The
different species abound in every climate, and in every situation, some
inhabiting woods, plains, fields, or banks of rivers; others preferring our
houses. They like the neighbourhood of vegetation, choosing either the
flowers, the leaves, or the stems of the trees of our woods, our gardens, or
our plantations. Their food varies very much; and the formation of the

sucker is regulated by it. Some imbibe blood, others live on the secretions of
animals. Their chief nourishment, however, consists of the juices of flowers,
on whose brilliant corollas the Diptera abound, either plundering from every
species indiscriminately, or attaching themselves to some particular kind.
They display the most wonderful instinct in their maternal care, and employ
the most varied and ingenious precautions to preserve their progeny.
The Diptera, besides their variety and the number of their species, are
remarkable on account of their profusion. The myriads of flies which rise
from our meadows, which fly in crowds around our plants, and around
every organised substance from which life has departed, some of which
even infest living animals, are Diptera.
The profusion with which they are distributed over the face of the globe,
causes them to fulfil two important duties in the economy of Nature. On the
one hand, they furnish to insectivorous birds an inexhaustible supply of
food; on the other, they contribute to the removal of all decaying animal and
vegetable substances, and thus serve to purify the air which we breathe.
Their fecundity, the rapidity with which one generation succeeds another,
and their great voracity, added to the extraordinary quickness of their
reproduction, are such that Linnæus tells us that three flies, with the
generations which spring from them, could eat up a dead horse as quickly as
a lion could.
These Diptera, which are worthy of so much attention, and deserve so
much study with regard to the part they play in the general economy of
Nature, are an object of fear and repulsion when one considers their
relations to us and other animals. Gnats and mosquitoes suck our blood; the
gad-fly and the species of Asilus attack our cattle. The order Diptera is
composed of a great number of families, which are again divided into tribes,
each comprising several genera. We shall only notice the more remarkable
genera of Diptera.
M. Macquart, the learned author of "L'Histoire Naturelle des Diptères,"
[11]
divides this great class of insects into two principal groups. In one of
these groups, the antennæ are formed of at least six joints, and the palpi of
four or five: these are called Nemocera. In the other, the antennæ consists
only of three joints, and the palpi of one or two: these are the Brachycera.

The Nemocera may generally be distinguished from the other Diptera,
independently of the difference in the antennæ and palpi, by the slenderness
of the body, the smallness of the head, the shape of the thorax, and the
length of the feet and wings. The result of this organisation is a graceful,
light, and aerial form.

Nemocera.
Abounding everywhere, the Nemocera live, some on the blood of man
and animals, some on small insects, and others on the juices of fragrant
flowers. From νημα, thread; κερας, horn.
In all climates, in every latitude, in the fields and woods, even in our
dwellings, they may be seen fluttering and plundering. The Nemocera are
divided into two families, that of the Culicidæ, of which the gnat (Culex),
which has a long, thin trunk, and a sucker provided with six bristles, is a
member; and that of the Tipulidæ, which have a short thick trunk, and a
sucker having two bristles.

Figs. 19 and 20.—The Gnat (Culex pipiens).

We will begin our examination with the Gnat (Culex pipiens), of which
Réaumur, in his "Mémoires pour servir à l'Histoire des Insectes," has given
such a curious and complete history. "The gnat is our declared enemy," says
Réaumur, in the introduction to his memoir, "and a very troublesome enemy
it is. However, it is well to make its acquaintance, for if we pay a little
attention we shall be forced to admire it, and even to admire the instrument
with which it wounds us. Besides which, throughout the whole course of its

life it offers most interesting matter of investigation to those who are
curious to know the wonders of Nature. During a period in its life the
observer, forgetting that it will at some time annoy him, feels the greatest
interest in its life-history."
As this is the case, let us explain the history of these insects, which
excite so much interest. The illustrious naturalist we have just mentioned
will be our guide.
The body of the gnat is long and cylindrical. When in a state of repose
one of its wings is crossed over the other. They present a charming
appearance when seen through a microscope, their nervures, as well as their
edges, being completely covered with scales, shaped like oblong plates and
finely striated longitudinally. These scales are also found on all the
segments of the body.

Fig. 21.—Antennæ of Gnat, magnified. Fig. 22.—Head of Gnat, magnified.

The antennæ of the gnat, particularly those of the male, have a fine
feathery appearance (Fig. 21).
Their eyes, covered with network, are so large that they cover nearly the
whole of the head. Some have eyes of a brilliant green colour, but looked at
in certain lights they appear red. Fig. 22 shows the head of the gnat with its
two eyes, its antennæ, and trunk.
The instrument which the gnat employs for puncturing the skin, and
which is called the trunk (Fig. 23), is well worthy of our attention. That
which is generally seen is only the case of those instruments which are
intended to pierce our skin and suck our blood, and in which they are held,

as lancets and other instruments are held in a surgeon's case. The case (Fig.
24) is cylindrical, covered with scales, and terminates in a small knob. Split
from end to end that it may open, it contains a perfect bundle of stings.
Réaumur tried to observe, by allowing himself to be stung by gnats, what
took place during the attack. He forgot, in watching the operations of the
insect, the slight pain caused by the wound, soliciting it as a favour, his only
regret being not to obtain it when he wished.
Réaumur observed that the compound sting, which is about a line in
length, enters the skin to the depth of about three-quarters of a line, and that
during that time the case bends into a bow, until the two ends meet. He
noticed besides, that the trunk-case of certain gnats was even more
complicated than that which we have described. But we will not dwell any
longer on this point.
Let us now try to give an idea of the construction and composition of
this sting, which, after piercing the skin, draws our blood.

Figs. 23 and 24.—Trunk of Gnat, Figs. 25, 26, 27.—Lancets of the
magnified. Gnat.

According to Réaumur, the sting of the gnat is composed of five parts.
He acknowledges, however, that it is very difficult to be certain of the exact
number of these parts, on account of the way in which they are united, and
of their form. At the present day we know that there are six. Réaumur, as
also Leuwenhoek, thought he saw two in the form of a sword blade with
three edges. These have the points reversed, and are serrated on the convex
side of the bend (Fig. 25). To form an idea of the shape of the other points,

the reader should look at Figs. 26 and 27. He will then see that the gnat's
sting is a sword in miniature.
The prick made by so fine a point as that of the sting of the gnat ought
not to cause any pain. "The point of the finest needle," says Réaumur,
"compared to the sting of the gnat, is the same as the point of a sword
compared to that of the needle." How is it then that so small a wound does
not heal at once? How is it that small bumps arise on the part that is stung?
The fact is, that it is not only a wound, but it has been imbued with an
irritating liquid.
This liquid may be seen to exude, under different circumstances, from
the trunk of the gnat, like a drop of very clear water.
Réaumur sometimes saw this liquid even in the trunk itself. "There is
nothing better," he observes, "to prevent the bad effects of gnat bites than at
once to dilute the liquid they have left in the wound with water. However
small this wound may be, it will not be difficult for water to be introduced.
By rubbing, it will be at once enlarged, and there is nothing to do but to
wash it. I have sometimes found this remedy answer very well."
The gnat is not always in the form of a winged
insect, greedy for our blood. There is a period during
which they leave us in repose. This is the larva period. It
is in water, and in stagnant water in particular, that the
larva of the insect which occupies our attention is to be
found. It resembles a worm, and may be found in ponds
from the month of May until the commencement of
winter.
If we desire to follow the larva of the gnat from the
beginning, we have only to keep a bucket of water in the
open air. After a few days this water will be observed to
be full of the larvæ of the gnat (Fig. 28). They are very
small, and come to the surface of the water to breathe;
for which purpose they extend the opening of a pipe, A,
Fig. 28. which is attached to the last segment of the body, a little
Larva of the Gnat. above the surface. They are, consequently, obliged to
hold their heads down. By the side of the breathing-tube
is another tube, B, shorter and thicker than the former, nearly perpendicular

to the body, its orifice being the exterior termination of the digestive tube.
At the anus it is fringed with long hairs, having the appearance, when in the
water, of a funnel. At the end of the same tube, and inside the hair funnel,
are four thin, oval, transparent, scaly blades, having the appearance of fins.
They are placed in pairs, of which one emanates from the right side, the
other from the left.
These four blades or fins have the power of separating from each other.
Each segment of the abdomen has on both sides a tuft of hair, and the thorax
has three. The head is round and flat, and is provided with two simple
brown eyes. Round the mouth are several wattles, furnished with hair, of
which two of crescent-like form are the most conspicuous. These tufts move
with great quickness, causing small currents of liquid to flow into the
mouth, by means of which the necessary food, microscopic insects and
particles of vegetable and earthy matter, is brought to the larva.
They change their skin several times during their continuance in this
state. This latter fact has been remarked by Dom Allou, a learned
Carthusian, "whose pleasure," says Réaumur, "consisted in admiring the
works of the Almighty, when not occupied in singing his praises." We think
it will be interesting to repeat the few lines which accompany the mention
made by Réaumur of this worthy Carthusian. They appear to us to be well
worth reading, even at the present day.
"If the pious monks who composed so many societies, possessed, like
Dom Allou, the love of observing insects, we might hope that the most
essential facts in the history of those little creatures would soon be made
known to us. What enjoyment more worthy of the calling they have chosen
could these pious men pursue than that which would place before their eyes
the marvellous creations of an Almighty Power? Even their leisure would
then incline them to adore that Power, and would furnish them the means to
make others do so who are occupied by too serious or too frivolous
employments."
After having changed its skin three times in a fortnight or three weeks,
the larva of the gnat throws off its covering for a fourth time, and is no
longer in the larva state. It is changed both in shape and condition. Instead
of being oblong, its body is shortened, rounded, and bent in such a way that
the tail is applied to the under part of the head. This is the case when the

animal is in repose; but it is able to move and swim, and then, by
bending its body and straightening it again, propels itself through
the water.
In this new condition, that is to say, in the pupa state (Fig. 29),
it does not eat. It no longer possesses digestive organs, but it is
necessary, even more than before its metamorphosis, that it should
breathe atmospheric air. Besides, the organs of respiration are
greatly changed. During the time the insect was in the larva state,
it was through the long tube fixed to the posterior part that it
received or expelled the air; but in casting its skin it loses the tube,
two appendages resembling an ass's ears being for the pupa what Fig. 29.
the tube was for the larva, the opening of these ears being held Pupa of
above the surface of the water. From this pupa the perfect insect the
will emerge; it is developed little by little, and the principal Gnat.
members may be distinguished under the transparent membranous
skin which envelopes it.
When the insect is about to change from the pupa state, it lies on the
surface of the water, straightening the hind part of its body, and extending
itself on the surface of the water, above which the thorax is raised. Before it
has been a moment in this position, its skin splits between the two breathing
trumpets, the split increasing very rapidly in length and breadth.
"It leaves uncovered," says Réaumur, "a portion of the thorax of the
gnat, easily to be recognised by the freshness of its colour, which is green,
and different from the skin in which it was before enveloped.
"As soon is the split is enlarged—and to do so sufficiently is the work of
a moment—the fore part of the perfect insect is not long in showing itself;
and soon afterwards the head appears, rising above the edges of the
opening. But this moment, and those which follow, until the gnat has
entirely left its covering, are most critical, and when it is exposed to fearful
danger. This insect, which lately lived in the water, is suddenly in a position
in which it has nothing to fear so much as water. If it were upset on the
water, and the water were to touch its thorax or body, it would be fatal. This
is the way in which it acts in this critical position—As soon as it has got out
its head and thorax, it lifts them as high as it is able above the opening
through which they had emerged, and then draws the posterior part of its

body through the same opening; or rather that part pushes itself forward by
contracting a little and then lengthening again, the roughness of the
covering from which it desires to extricate itself serving as an assistance.

Fig. 30.—Gnats emerging.

"A larger portion of the gnat is thus uncovered, and at the same time the
head is advanced farther towards the anterior end of the covering; but as it
advances in this direction, it rises more and more, the anterior and posterior
ends of the sheath thus becoming quite empty. The sheath then becomes a
sort of boat, into which the water does not enter; and it would be fatal if it
did. The water could not find a passage to the farther end, and the edges of
the anterior end could not be submerged until the other was considerably
sunk. The gnat itself is the mast of its little boat. Large boats, which pass
under bridges, have masts which can be lowered; as soon as the boat has
passed the bridge the mast is hoisted up by degrees, until it is perpendicular.

The gnat rises thus until it becomes the mast of its own little boat, and a
vertical mast also. It is difficult to imagine how it is able to put itself in such
a singular, though for it necessary, position, and also how it can keep it. The
fore part of the boat is much more loaded than the other, but it is also much
broader. Any one who observes how deep the fore part of the boat is, and
how near the edges of its sides are to the water, forgets for the time being
that the gnat is an insect that he would willingly destroy at other times. One
feels uneasy for its fate; and the more so if the wind happens to rise,
particularly if it disturbs the surface of the water. But one sees with pleasure
that there is air enough to carry the gnat along quickly; it is carried from
side to side; it makes different voyages in the bucket in which it is borne.
Though it is only a sort of boat—or rather mast, because its wings and legs
are fixed close to its body, it is perhaps, in proportion to the size of its boat,
a larger sail than one would dare to put on a real vessel—one cannot help
fearing that the little boat will capsize. * * * As soon as the boat is capsized,
as soon as the gnat is laid on the surface of the water, there is no chance left
for it. I have sometimes seen the water covered with gnats which had
perished thus as soon as they were born. It is, however, still more
extraordinary that the gnat is able to finish its operations. Happily they do
not last long; all dangers may be passed over in a minute.
"The gnat, after raising itself perpendicularly, draws its two front legs
from the sheath, and brings them forward. It then draws out the two next. It
now no longer tries to maintain its uneasy position, but leans towards the
water; gets near it, and places its feet upon it; the water is sufficiently firm
and solid support for them, and is able to bear them, although burdened with
the insect's body. As soon as the insect is thus on the water it is in safety; its
wings are unfolded and dried, which is done sooner than it takes to tell it, at
length the gnat is in a position to use them, and it is soon seen to fly away,
particularly if one tries to catch it."
One more word about the gnat, whose life
is full of such interesting details.
The reader will perhaps not feel much
pleasure in learning that the fecundity of these
Fig. 31.—Eggs of the Gnat,
insects is extraordinary. Many generations are
magnified.
born in a single year, each generation
requiring only three weeks or a month to

arrive at a condition to bring forth a new generation. Thus, the number of
gnats which comes into existence in the course of a year is something
fearful. Only a few days after the pupæ in a bucket are transformed into
gnats, eggs which have been left by the females may be observed on the
surface of the water in little clusters.
Many species of gnats, known as mosquitoes, are to be found in
America. All travellers speak of the sufferings endured by a stranger in that
country from the bites of these insects. One can only preserve oneself from
these cruel enemies during sleep by hanging gauze, called a mosquito
curtain, round the bed. Mosquito curtains are not only necessary in America;
during the hot season, in Spain, throughout the whole of Italy, and a part of
the south of France, it is necessary to hang these curtains round the bed, if
one wishes to obtain any sleep; it is also a necessary precaution not to have
a light in one's bedchamber, as the sight of it at once attracts these
dangerous companions, whose buzzing and stinging prevent any possibility
of repose during the whole night. Such is our advice to people who travel in
the above-mentioned countries.
The Tipulidæ have a narrow, elongated abdomen, and long and slight
limbs. The head is round, and the eyes, which are compound, are, especially
in the males, very large. The wings, which are long and narrow, are
sometimes held wide apart, sometimes horizontally, and sometimes bent so
as to form, as it were, a roof. The balancers are naked and elongated; the
abdomen long, cylindrical, and often terminating in a club in the male, and
in a point in the female. The antennæ, which are longer than the head, are
generally composed of from fourteen to sixteen joints, and are sometimes in
the form of a comb or saw, sometimes furnished with hair, in form of
plumes, bunches, or in a whorl. The larvæ live on plants, in the fields, in
gardens, and sometimes in woods. The perfect insects, at first sight,
resemble gnats, but are without a trunk, or rather their trunk is extremely
short, terminating in two large lips, and the sucker is composed of two
fibres only. [12] The larger species of Tipulæ, which are commonly known as
"Daddy Longlegs," &c., and in France as "Tailleurs" and "Couturières," are
found in fields at the end of September and commencement of October.
"Although they sometimes fly a considerable distance," says Réaumur,
"when the sun is bright and hot, they generally do not go far; often, indeed,
only along the ground, or rather the top of the grass. Sometimes they only

use their wings to keep them above the level of the herbage, and to take
them along. Their legs, particularly the hind ones, are disproportionately
large. They are three times the length of the body, and are to these insects
what stilts are to the peasants of marshy and inundated countries, enabling
them to pass with ease over the higher blades of grass."
One of the smaller species has been termed culiciformis, on account of
its resemblance to the gnat. The smaller are more active than the larger
species which we have mentioned. Not only do they fly more rapidly, but
there are some kinds which are continually on the wing. In all seasons, even
during the winter, at certain hours of the day, clouds of small insects are
seen in the air, which are taken for gnats: they are Tipulæ. Their flight is
worthy of attention; they generally only rise and fall in the same vertical
line. All these flies come from larvæ, which resemble very elongated
worms, having scaly heads, generally furnished with two very small conical
antennæ, and certain other organs, for the purpose of obtaining food. Their
bodies are jointed without limbs, but nevertheless provided with appendages
which supply their place. The larvæ of the various species are of very
different habits. Some are aquatic, as that of Tipula culiciformis, a small
species which is very numerous in stagnant waters.
It is necessary to say a few words about these worm-like larvæ, which
are extremely common. They are of a brilliant red colour, and inhabit little
oblong bent masses of earth, thickly pierced with holes. Each hole allows a
worm to extend its head, and the foremost part of its body, out of the cell,
which is made of light spongy matters, remains of decayed leaves, &c.
These larvæ are transformed into pupæ, in the cell in which they have lived,
during the larvæ state, losing by this metamorphosis the scaly coverings of
the head and of all the exterior parts. They pass into the pupa state, and have
the thorax provided with dainty plumes, which probably assist in the action
of respiration. This pupa is very active and quick in its movements in the
water. When the moment comes for its last metamorphosis, it throws off its
feathery covering in much the same manner as the gnat.
Fig. 32 represents Tipula oleracea in the different stages of larva, pupa,
and perfect insect.

Fig. 32.—Daddy Longlegs (Tipula oleracea).

Other species of small Tipulæ have aquatic larvæ very similar to those
which we have described. Réaumur remarked that each of these worms is
lodged in a thick mass, convex at the top, formed of a transparent and
adhesive white jelly. The larvæ of the larger Tipulæ are not aquatic, but are
of different habits, and live under the ground; all soil which is not
frequently turned is suitable to them, but they are to be found especially in
low damp meadows.
Réaumur saw large districts of grassy swamps in Poictou, which, in
certain years, furnished very little grass for the cattle, on account of the
ravages caused by these larvæ. They had also much injured the harvest in
the same districts during those years.
These larvæ appear to require no other food than vegetable mould. Their
excrements are, in fact, according to Réaumur, nothing else than dried earth,
from which the stomach and intestines of the insect have withdrawn all
nourishing matter.
Old trees have often hollow cavities occasioned by the decay of the
trunk. When these cavities are old, their lower parts are full of a sort of

mould, which is in fact half-decayed wood. It is there that the Tipulæ often
lay their eggs. Réaumur frequently found the larvæ in the trunks of elms or
willows, and also in the fleshy parts of certain kinds of mushrooms. He
carefully observed the habits of one, which lived under the covering of a
mushroom, the Oak agaric (Agaricus quercinus). This larva is round, grey,
and resembles an earth-worm. It does not walk, but crawls; and the places
where it stops, or which it passes over, are covered with a sort of brilliant
slime, like that left by the snail or slug.
M. Guérin-Méneville has published some very interesting remarks on
the migrations of the larvæ of a particular kind of Tipula, known by the
name of Sciara. We will borrow from that entomologist the following
curious details, which will initiate us into one of the most wonderful
phenomena in the whole history of insects. These small larvæ are without
feet, hardly five lines in length, and about the third of a line in diameter.
They are composed of thirteen segments, and have small black heads.
In some years, during the month of July, may be found on the borders of
forests in Norway and Hanover, immense trains of these larvæ, formed by
the union of an innumerable quantity fixed to each other by a sticky
substance. These collections of larvæ resemble some sort of strange animal
of serpent-like form, several feet long, one or two inches in thickness, and
formed by the union of an immense number, which cling to each other by
thousands, and move on together. The whole society advances thus with one
accord, leaving a track after it on the ground, as a material indication of its
presence.
These strange collections of living creatures form societies, sometimes
only a few yards long; but at other times it happens that they form bands
from ten to twelve yards in length, of the breadth of a hand and the
thickness of a thumb. M. Guérin-Méneville observed columns as many as
thirty yards in length. These troops advance as slowly as a snail, and in a
certain direction. If they encounter an obstacle—as a stone, for instance—
they cross over it, turn round it, or else divide into two sections, which
reunite after the obstacle is passed. If a portion of the column be removed so
as to divide it into two parts, it is quickly reunited, as the hindmost portion
soon joins that which precedes it. Lastly, if the posterior part of this living
ribbon be brought into contact with the anterior, a circle is formed, which
turns round and round on the same ground for a long time, sometimes even

for a whole day, before breaking, and continuing to advance. They are never
met with in bad weather, but only when the sun is warm.
The curious and astonishing phenomenon of an assembly of larvæ
without feet, advancing with an equal movement resulting from the
individual motion of thousands of little worms, was remarked for the first
time, in 1603, by Gaspard Schwenefelt. This naturalist says that the
inhabitants of Siberia consider this phenomenon as an indication of a bad
harvest if they go towards the mountains; whereas, if they descend towards
the plains, it is the sign of a good one. In 1715 Jonas Ramus mentioned the
same phenomenon, recalling a superstition attached to it by the peasants of
Norway. This writer informs us that the peasants of that country, on meeting
one of these moving columns, throw down their belts or waistcoats on the
ground before it. If the orme-drag (that is the name given to the moving
column) crosses over this obstacle, it is a good sign; but on the other hand,
if the column turns round the obstacle, instead of crossing it, some mischief
may be expected.
The same animals were observed in 1845 at Birkenmore, near Hefeld,
by M. Rande, Royal Inspector of the Forests of Hanover.
M. Guérin-Méneville is of opinion that these larvæ, which exist in great
numbers in certain districts, sometimes devour all the nutritive substances
contained in the ground. After having done so, they are obliged to come out
of it, in order to seek at a distance a place where they will find food, or
perhaps only a suitable place to undergo their metamorphosis. It is then that
this singular journey commences. As regards the uniting of these myriads of
individuals into columns, M. Guérin-Méneville thinks that it can be
explained by the necessity these insects feel for mutual protection against
the drying effect of the atmosphere when they are forced to leave the
ground. United into masses, and moistened by the glutinous matter which
connects them, they can leave their former place of abode without danger; if
each were by itself, they would soon perish. Here, as in other cases, union is
strength; and the strength of these larvæ lies in this protecting moisture.
However it may be explained, the migration of these troops of insects are
among the most astonishing phenomena of Nature.

Brachycera.

The Brachycera, from βραχυς, "short;" and κερας, "a horn" —these
Diptera having short antennæ—are divided into four groups. In this
subdivision the sucker is composed of six bristles. Amongst other families it
includes that of the Tabanidæ; the insects belonging to which family are of
remarkable strength, and possessed of daring and courage in the highest
degree. Their wings are provided with powerful muscles, their feet are very
strong, and their trunk is provided with six flat, sharp lancets. Distributed
over the entire world, their instinct is everywhere the same, it is the desire
for blood, at least in the females; for the males are not so warlike, they do
no harm, but live on the juices of flowers. They are chiefly found in woods
and pastures, and during the hottest part of the day in summer may be seen
flying about seeking for their prey.
M. de Saint-Fargeau has described the manner in which the males fly.
They may be seen flying hither and thither in the glades of woods,
remaining for some time suspended in the air, then darting quickly and
suddenly away a yard or two, again taking up the same immovable position,
and in each of these movements turning the head to the opposite way from
that in which they are going. This naturalist is certain that on these
occasions they are watching for the females, which they dart upon. When
they have succeeded in doing so, they rise so high as to be out of sight.
To this group belongs the genus Tabanus.
The first species we shall mention, Tabanus autumnalis (Fig. 33), a
common species, is eight or nine lines in length, and of blackish colour. The
palpi, the face, and the forehead are grey; the antennæ black; the thorax
grey, striped with brown; the abdomen spotted with yellow; the legs of a
yellowish white; and the outer edge of the wings brown.
Another species (Tabanus bovinus) is twelve lines in length, and of a
blackish brown. The palpi, the face, and the forehead are yellow; the
antennæ black, with a whitish base; the thorax, covered with yellow hair, is
striped with black; the posterior edge of the segments of the abdomen pale
yellow; the legs yellowish, with the extremities black, and the exterior edge
of the wings yellow. This species is frequently met with in woods.
A third species, Chrysops cæcutiens (Fig. 34), which belongs to the
same family, and of which the generic name Chrysops signifies golden-
eyed, torments horses and cattle very much by biting them round the eyes.

Its thorax is of a yellowish colour, striped or spotted with black; the
abdomen yellow, and the eyes golden.
In the next group of the Brachycera the sucker is composed of four
bristles, and the antennæ generally terminate in a point which appears to be
rather a development than an appendage.
This group includes a number of genera, but the following only possess
sufficient interest to claim our attention. From the Tanystomæ we select the
families of the Asilidæ, Empidæ, and Bombylidæ. As types of the
Brachystomæ we select the Leptidæ and Syrphidæ.

Fig. 33.—Tabanus autumnalis. Fig. 34.—Chrysops cæcutiens.

The chief characteristic of the Asilidæ is strength. All their organs
combine to produce this quality, which they display only too much, being as
formidable to cattle as the Tabani, but even surpassing those insects in
natural cruelty.
The Asilidæ unceasingly attack other insects, and even those of their
own kind. Their trunk is strong; one of the fibres of the sucker is furnished
with small points, turned back, which are intended to hold firmly to the

body into which it has entered. They carry on their devastations in the
glades of woods and on sunny roads.
We will mention in this group Asilus crabroniformis (Fig. 35), an insect
ten to twelve lines long, having a yellow head, black antennæ, and thorax of
a brownish yellow. The three first segments of the abdomen are black, the
second and third having a white spot on each side, the remaining segments
are yellow. The wings are yellowish, spotted with black on the inner and
hind margin. This species is common over the whole of Europe, and lives at
the expense of caterpillars and other insects, of which it sucks the blood
with the greatest voracity.

Fig. 35.—Asilus crabroniformis. Fig. 36.—Bombylius major.

The Empidæ live in the same way as the Asilidæ, but the males are
chiefly nourished by the juices of flowers.

"They wage war on other insects," says M. Macquart, in his "Histoire
Naturelle des Diptères," "either when flying or running, and they seize their
victims with their feet, which are formed in various ways, and well adapted
for their purpose, but it is in the air that their hunting, as well as their
amours, chiefly take place. They unite together in numerous companies,
which during fine summer evenings whirl like gnats about the water's edge.
A singular observation, however, that I have made on the Empis, is, that
among the thousands of pairs that I have seen resting on hedges and bushes,
nearly all the females were occupied in sucking an insect; some had hold of
small Phryganeæ, [13] others of Ephemeræ, [14] and the greater part of
Tipulæ."
The Empidæ have the trunk bent down, and resembling the beak of a
bird; but the Bombylidæ, on the contrary, have the trunk extended straight in
front.
The typical genus which has given its name to this latter group is easily
to be recognised by the elegance of the fur which covers its body, the
slenderness of its feet, and the length of its wings, which extend
horizontally on each side of the body.
Much more common in hot climates than in the North, these insects, the
larvæ of which are not yet known, take flight in the middle of the day, when
the sun's rays are hottest. They fly very fast, making a dull buzzing sound,
and hover over flowers, from which they draw the juices without settling.
Fig. 36 represents the Bombylius major, which is common enough
throughout the whole of Europe. This insect is from four to six lines long,
black, with yellow fur; the feet light yellow; and the wings have the edges
bordered with a sinuous brown band.
The genus Anthrax, belonging to this family, has a different form to
Bombylius. The body is much less hairy; the trunk is short and concealed in
the mouth; the wings, which are very large, are clothed, at least in the
principal genus, in a garb of mourning, sufficiently remarkable, in which the
combinations of black and white are admirably diversified.
"Here," says M. Macquart, "the line which separates the two colours is
straight; there it represents gradations, in other cases it is deeply sinuous.
Sometimes the dark part shows transparent points, or the glassy part dark

spots. This sombre garb, added to the velvet black of the body, gives the
Anthrax a most elegant appearance; and while resting on the corolla of the
honeysuckle and hawthorn to suck the juice, forms a most striking contrast,
and sets forth its beauty no less than that of those lovely flowers."
Anthrax sinuata is common in Europe.
The family of the Syrphidæ includes three remarkable types, which we
cannot pass over in silence. They are Vermileo, Volucella, and Helophilus.
Vermileo de Geeri (Fig. 37), which inhabits the central and southern
parts of France, is four or five lines in length. Its face is white; its forehead
grey, bordered with black; the thorax of a yellowish grey, with four brown
stripes in the male; the abdomen light yellow, spotted with black; and the
wings glassy.

Fig. 37.—Vermileo de Geeri. Fig. 38.—A species of Volucella.

The larva of the Vermileo has a thin cylindrical body, capable of bending
itself in every direction; a conical head, armed with two horny points; and
the last segment elongated, flat, elevated, and terminated by four hairy
tentacles; at the sides of the fifth segment may be observed a little angle,
from which projects a horny retractile point.
It is of very singular habits. It makes a small tunnel in the sand, having a
conical mouth, where it waits, like the spider, immovable. As soon as an
insect falls into the hole, it raises its head, and squeezing its prey in the folds
of its body, devours it, and afterwards throws out the skin. It lives in this
way for at least three years before attaining the perfect state.
The Volucellæ (Fig. 38) have a strong resemblance to the humble-bee.
Certain kinds make use and abuse of this resemblance to introduce

themselves fraudulently into its nests, and to deposit their eggs therein.
When these eggs have hatched, the larvæ, which have the mouth armed with
two mandibles, devour the larvæ of their hosts, the bees. This is the return
they make for the hospitality they have received!
The Helophili (Fig. 39) deserve to be
mentioned here on account of the singular
form of many of their larvæ. The head is
thick, fleshy, and varying a little in form.
But the point by which they are easily to be
distinguished from most other larvæ is, that
they have always very long tails,
sometimes, indeed, out of proportion to the
length of the body. Réaumur called these
larvæ "vers à queue de rat;" they are known Fig. 39.—A species of Helophilus.
in England as rat-tailed maggots, and their
habits are aquatic. Having placed some of them in a bason of water,
Réaumur saw that they kept in a perpendicular position at the bottom of the
bason and parallel to one another, the extremities of their tails being on the
surface of the water. He then increased the depth of the water by degrees;
and, as it got deeper, observed that the tail of each worm became longer.
These tails, which at first were only two inches long, at last attained to five.
It will be remarked that the body of each worm does not exceed five
lines in length. The tail is a peculiar organ, by the aid of which the worm
breathes, although its body may be covered by water to the depth of several
inches. It is composed of two tubes, one of which shuts into the other, like a
telescope. Réaumur calls it the breathing tube. It terminates in a little brown
knob, in which, according to Réaumur, are two holes for the purpose of
receiving the air, and which have five little tufts of hair, which float on the
surface of the water. When the time comes for the metamorphosis of these
worms, they come out of the water and bury themselves in the earth; the
skin then hardens and becomes a sort of cocoon. In this cocoon the insect
loses the form of a worm, and takes by degrees that of the pupa, which it
keeps until circumstances cause it to throw off its last coverings, and to
appear in the winged state.

Fig. 40.—Larvæ of a Helophilus.

What an eventful life! what a life full of changes and turns of fortune is
that of these insects, which pass the first and longest period of their
existence under water, another part of their life under the ground, and,
finally, after having existed in these two elements, enjoy, high in the air, the
pleasures of flight!
The third group of Brachycera is that of the Dichæta; that is, those flies
having two-fibred suckers. Among these are classed the Œstri, the Conopes,
and the flies properly so called.
The genus Œstrus, the Gad, Bot-fly, or Breeze, comprises those
formidable insects which attack the horse, the sheep, and the ox. [15] The
labours of Réaumur, in his admirable Memoirs, and those of M. Joly,
Professor of Zoology to the Faculté des Sciences de Toulouse, who
published some most valuable researches on this subject, in 1846, will guide
us in the following brief explanation.
The following is the description given by M. Joly of the Gad-fly
(Œstrus equi) represented in Figs. 41, 42, which are taken from a drawing
which accompanies that naturalist's Memoirs.

I.—A Herd of Horses attacked by Gad-flies (Œstrus equi).

The head of this insect is large and obtuse; the face light yellow, with
whitish silky fur; the eyes blackish; the antennæ ferruginous; the thorax
grey; and the abdomen of a reddish yellow, with black spots. The wings are
whitish, not diaphanous, with a golden tint, and divided by a winding band
of blackish colour. The feet are palish yellow.

Fig. 41.—Horse-fly, male Fig. 42.—Horse-fly, female
(Œstrus [gasterophilus] equi). (OEstrus [gasterophilus] equi).

This species is found in France, in Italy, and also in the East, especially
in Persia, and rarely in England. During the months of July and August the

Œstrus frequents pastures, and deposits its eggs chiefly on the shoulders
and knees of horses (Plate I.). In order to do this, the female suspends
herself in the air for some seconds over the place she has chosen, falls upon
it, and with her abdomen bent, sticks her eggs to the horse's hairs by means
of a glutinous liquid with which they are provided, and which soon dries.
This is repeated at very short intervals. It often happens that from four to
five hundred eggs are thus deposited upon the same horse. Guided by a
marvellous instinct, the female Œstrus generally places her eggs on those
parts of the horse's body which can be most easily touched with the tongue,
that is, at the inner part of the knees, on the shoulders, and rarely on the
outer part of the mane.

Fig. 43.—Eggs of the Gad-fly (Œstrus [gasterophilus] equi) deposited on the
hairs of a horse.

The eggs of the Œstrus, which are white and of conical form, adhere to
the horse's hair, as shown in Fig. 43. They are furnished with a lid, which at
the time of hatching opens, to allow the exit of the young larva, which takes
place, according to M. Joly, about twenty days after they are deposited. In
fact, it is not in the egg state, but really in that of the larva, that the horse, as
we shall explain, takes into his stomach these parasitical guests, to which
Nature has allotted so singular an abode. When licking itself, the horse
carries them into its mouth, and afterwards swallows them with his food, by
which means they enter the stomach. It is a remarkable fact that it is
sometimes other insects, as the Tabania for instance, that by their repeated
stinging cause the horse to lick himself, and thus to receive his most cruel
enemy. In the perilous journey they have to perform from the skin of the
horse to his stomach, many of the larvæ of the Œstrus, as may be supposed,
are destroyed, ground by the teeth of the animal, or crushed by the
alimentary substances. There is hardly one Œstrus in fifty that arrives safely
in the stomach of the horse; and yet if one were to open a horse which had
been attacked by the Œstri, the stomach would be nearly always found to
have many of the larvæ sticking to its inside. Fig. 44, taken from a drawing

which accompanies M. Joly's Memoirs, represents the state of a horse's
stomach attacked by the Gad-fly larvæ.

Fig. 44.—Portion of the stomach of the horse, and larvæ of Œstrus (gasterophilus) equi.

The larvæ are of a reddish yellow, and each of their segments is armed
at the posterior edge with a double row of triangular spines, large and small
alternately, yellow at the base, and black at the point, which is always
turned backwards. The head is furnished with two hooks, which serve to
fasten the larva to the internal coats of the stomach. The spines with which
the whole surface of the body is furnished contribute to fix it more perfectly,
preventing the creatures, by the manner in which they are placed, from
being carried away by the food which has gone through the first process of
digestion.
It is probable that this larva, so singularly deposited, is nourished by the
mucus secreted by the mucous membrane of the stomach, and that it
breathes the air which the horse swallows with its food during the process of
deglutition. It must be acknowledged, however, that it is in the midst of a
gaseous atmosphere which is very unhealthy, for nearly all the gases
generated in the stomach of the horse are fatal to man and to the generality
of animals, as they consist of nitrogen, carbonic acid, sulphuretted
hydrogen, and carburetted hydrogen. To explain how the insect can live
under such circumstances, M. Joly has suggested the following ingenious
hypothesis:—

"When the stomach which the larva inhabits," says this learned
naturalist, "contains only oxygen, or air that is nearly pure, the insect opens
the two lips of the cavity which contains the spiracles, and breathes at its
ease. When the digestion of the alimentary substance generates gas which is
unfit for respiration, or when the spiracles run the risk of being obstructed
by the solid or liquid substances contained in the stomach, it shuts the lips,
and continues to live on the air contained in its numerous tracheæ."
"Whatever may be the value of this explanation," adds M. Joly, "it is
nevertheless very curious to see an insect pass the greater part of its life in
an atmosphere which would be instantly fatal to most animals, and in an
organ where, under the government of life, chemical processes bring about
the most wonderful changes of the food into the substance of the animal
itself. But how can the insect itself resist the action of these mysterious
powers, and remain alone intact in the midst of all these matters which are
unceasingly changing and decomposing? This is another question which it
is difficult, or rather impossible, to explain in the present state of science;
another enigma which humbles our pride, and of which He who has created
both man and the worm alone knows the secret."
Arrived at a state of complete development, the larva of the Œstrus
imprisoned in the stomach of the horse leaves the membrane to which it has
been fixed, then directing the anterior part of its body towards the pyloric
opening of the stomach, allows itself to be carried away with the
excrementitious matter. It traverses, mixed with the excrementary bolus, the
whole length of the intestinal canal, leaves it by the anal orifice, and on
touching the ground at once seeks a suitable place to go through the last but
one of its metamorphoses.
The skin then gets thick, hardens, and becomes black. All the organs of
the animal are composed of a whitish amorphous pulp, which soon assumes
its destined form, and the insect becomes perfect. It then lifts a lid at the
anterior part of its cocoon, emerges, dries its wings, and flies off.

Fig. 45.—Bot-fly (Œstrus bovis).

The Bot-fly (Œstrus bovis, Fig. 45) has a very hairy body, large head,
the face and forehead covered with light yellow hair, the eyes brown, and
the antennæ black. The thorax is yellow, barred with black; the abdomen of
a greyish white at the base, covered with black hair on the third segment,
and the remainder of an orange yellow; the wings are smoky brown.

II.—A Herd of Cattle attacked by Bot-flies (Œstrus bovis).

As soon as the cattle are attacked, they may be seen, their heads and
necks extended, their tails trembling, and held in a line with the body, to
rush to the nearest river or pond, while such as are not attacked disperse
(Plate II.). It is asserted that the buzzing alone of the Œstrus terrifies a
bullock to such an extent as to render it unmanageable. As for the insect, it
simply obeys its maternal instinct, which commands it to deposit its eggs
under the skin of our large ruminants.
Let us now explain how the eggs of the Œstrus, deposited in the skin of
the bullock, accommodate themselves to this strange abode. The mother
insect makes a certain number of little wounds in the skin of the beast, each
of which receives an egg, which the heat of the animal serves to bring forth.
It is a natural parallel to the artificial way which the ancient Egyptians
invented of hatching the eggs of domestic fowls, and which has been
imitated badly enough in our day.

Directly the larva of the Bot-fly is out of the egg and lodged between the
skin and the flesh of its host, the bullock, it finds itself in a place perfectly
suitable to its existence. In this happy condition the larva increases in
growth, and eventually becomes a fly in its turn. Those parts of the animal's
body in which the larvæ are lodged are easily to be recognised, as above
each larva may be seen an elevation, a sort of tumour, termed a bot—a
bump, as Réaumur calls it, comparing it more or less justly to the bump
caused on a man's head by a severe blow.
Fig. 46, taken from a drawing in Réaumur's Memoirs, represents the
bots of which we speak.
The country people are well aware of the nature and cause of these bots.
They know that each one contains a worm, that this worm comes from a fly,
and that later it will be transformed into a fly itself. Each of these bots has in
its interior a cavity, occupied by a larva, which, as well as the bot, increases
in size as the larva becomes developed.
It is generally on young cows or young bullocks—in fact, on cattle of
from two to three years of age—that these tumours exist, and they are rarely
to be seen on old animals. The fly, which by piercing the skin occasions
these tumours, always chooses those whose skin offers little resistance.
Each tumour is provided with a small opening, by which the larva breathes.
In order to examine the interior of the cavity, Réaumur opened some of
these tumours, either with a razor or a pair of scissors. He found them in a
most disgusting state. The larva is lodged in a regular festering wound,
matter occupying the bottom of the cavity, and the head of the worm is
continually, or almost continually, plunged in this liquid. "It is most likely
very well off there," says Réaumur; and he adds that this matter appears to
be the sole food of the larva.
"The position of a horned beast," observes the great naturalist, "which
has thirty or forty of these bumps on its back, would be a very cruel one,
and a terrible state of suffering, if his flesh were continually mangled by
thirty or forty large worms. But it is probable they cause no suffering, or at
least very little, to the large animal. Besides," continues Réaumur, "those
cattle whose bodies are the most covered with bumps, not only show no
signs of pain, but it does not appear that they are prejudicial to them in any
way."

Fig. 46.—Bumps produced on Cattle by the larvæ of the Bot-fly.

Réaumur tried to discover how the larva, when arrived at its full growth,
succeeds in leaving its abode, as the opening is smaller than its own body.
"Nature," says Réaumur, "has taught this worm the surest, the gentlest,
and the most simple of methods, the one to which surgeons often have
recourse to hold wounds open, or to enlarge them. They press tents into a
wound they wish to enlarge. Two or three days before the worm wishes to
come out, it commences to make use of its posterior part as a tent, to
increase the size of its exit from its habitation. It thrusts it into the hole and
draws it out again many times in the course of two or three days, and the
oftener this is repeated, the longer it is able to retain its posterior end in the
opening, as the hole becomes larger. On the day preceding that on which the
worm is to come out, the posterior part is to be found almost continually in
the hole. At last, it comes out backwards, and falls to the ground, when it
gets under a stone, or buries itself in the turf; remaining quiet and preparing
for its last transformation. Its skin hardens, the rings disappear, and it
becomes black. Thenceforth the insect is detached from the outer skin,
which forms a cocoon, or box. At the front and upper part of the cocoon is a

triangular piece, which the fly gets rid of when it is in a fit state to come
into the open air."
Fig. 47, taken from drawings in Réaumur's Memoirs, represents the
imago of the Œstrus leaving the cocoon.
The reader is, most likely,
desirous to know with the aid of
what instrument the Œstrus is
able to pierce the thick skin of
the ox.
The female only is possessed
of this instrument, which is
situated in the posterior
extremity of the body. It is of a
shiny blackish brown colour, and
as it were covered with scales.
By pressing the abdomen of the
Fig. 47. Fig. 48.
fly between one's two fingers it is
thrust out. Réaumur observed Imago of Bot-fly Ovipositor of the Bot-fly
emerging. (Œstrus bovis).
that it was formed of four tubes,
which could be drawn the one
into the other, like the tubes of a telescope (Fig. 48). The last of these
appears to terminate in five small scaly knobs, which are not placed on the
same line, but are the ends of five different parts. Three of these knobs are
furnished with points, which form an instrument well fitted to operate upon
a hard thick skin. United together, they form a cavity similar to that of an
auger, and terminating in the form of a spoon.
The Gad-fly, or Breeze-fly of the sheep, Œstrus (Cephalemyia ovis), has
obtained notoriety on account of its attacking those animals.
Even at the sight of this insect the sheep feels the greatest terror. As soon
as one of them appears, the flock becomes disturbed, the sheep that is
attacked shakes its head when it feels the fly on its nostril, and at the same
time strikes the ground violently with its fore-feet; it then commences to run
here and there, holding its nose near the ground, smelling the grass, and
looking about anxiously to see if it is still pursued.

Fig. 49.—Cephalemyia ovis.

It is to avoid the attacks of the Cephalemyia that during the hot days of
summer sheep lie down with their nostrils buried in dusty ruts, or stand up
with their heads lowered between their fore-legs, and their noses nearly in
contact with the ground. When these poor beasts are in the open country,
they are observed assembled with their nostrils against each other and very
near the ground, so that those which occupy the outside are alone exposed
(Plate III.). The Cephalemyia ovis (Fig. 49) has a less hairy head, but larger
in proportion to the size of its body than the Gad-fly (Gasterophilus equi).
Its face is reddish; its forehead brown with purple bars; its eyes of a dark
and changing green; its antennæ black, its thorax sometimes grey,
sometimes brown, bristling with small black tubercles; the abdomen white,
spotted with brown or black; and the wings hyaline.

III.—Sheep attacked by Cephalemyia ovis.

The Cephalemyia (Œstrus) ovis is to be found in Europe, Arabia, Persia,
and in the East Indies. It lays its eggs on the edges of the animal's nostrils,
and the larva lives in the frontal and maxillary sinuses. It is a whitish worm,
having a black transverse band on each of its segments. Its head is armed
with two horny black hooks, parallel, and capable of being moved up and
down and laterally. Underneath, each segment of the body has several rows
of tubercles of nearly spherical form, surmounted by small bristles having
reddish points, and all of them bent backwards. "These points," says M.
Joly, "probably serve to facilitate the progress of the animal on the smooth
and slippery surfaces of the mucous membranes to which it fixes itself to
feed, and perhaps also to increase the secretion of these membranes by the
irritation occasioned by the bristles with which they are furnished." [16]
Fixed by means of these hooks to the mucous membrane, which it
perforates, the larva nourishes itself with mucus, and lives in this state,
according to M. Joly, during nearly a whole year. At the end of this time it
comes out, following the same course by which it entered, falls to the

ground, and burying itself to the depth of a
few inches, is transformed into a pupa. The
cocoon is of a fine black colour. Thirty or
forty days after its burial it emerges in the
perfect state, and detaching the lid at the
anterior end of the cocoon by the aid of its
head, which has increased considerably in
size, takes flight.
Notwithstanding the formidable Fig. 50.—Conops.
appearance of their trunks, the habits of the
perfect Conopes (Fig. 50) are very quiet. In
the adult state they are only to be seen on flowers, of which they suck the
honeyed juice. But with their larvæ the case is otherwise. These latter live as
parasites on the humble-bees (Bombi). Latreille saw the Conops rufipes
issue in the perfect state from the body of a humble-bee, through the
intervals of the segments of the abdomen.
The Mucides form that great tribe of Diptera commonly known as flies,
and which are distributed in such abundance over the whole world. Faithful
companions of plants, the flies follow them to the utmost limits of
vegetation. At the same time they are called upon by Nature to hasten the
dissolution of dead bodies. They place their eggs in the carcases of animals,
and the larvæ prey upon the corrupt flesh, thus quickly ridding the earth of
those fatal causes of infection to its inhabitants. The organs of these insects
are also infinitely modified, in order to adapt them to their various
functions.
M. Macquart divides the Muscides into three sections—the Creophili,
the Anthomyzides, and the Acalyptera.
The Creophili have the strongest organisation; their movements and
their flight are rapid. The greater part feed on the juices of flowers, some on
the blood or the humours of animals. Some deposit their eggs on different
kinds of insects, others on bodies in a state of decomposition, some again
are viviparous. The insects of the genus Echinomyia, for instance (Fig. 51),
derive their nourishment from flowers. They deposit their eggs on
caterpillars, and the young larvæ on hatching penetrate their bodies and feed
on their viscera. How surprised, sometimes, is the naturalist, who, after

carefully preserving a chrysalis, and
awaiting day by day the appearance of
the beautiful butterfly of which it is the
coarse and mysterious envelope, sees a
cloud of flies emerge in place of it!
But there is another singular
manœuvre performed by some of the
species of the Diptera with which we
are at present occupied to prepare an
abundant supply of provision for their
larvæ as soon as they are hatched. The
following are the means they employ.
It is well known that certain fossorial
Hymenoptera carry their prey—other
insects which they have caught,
weevils, flies, &c., and which they
intend should serve as food for their
own larvæ—into their subterranean
abodes. These Diptera, spying a
favourable moment, slip furtively into
their retreats, and deposit their eggs on
Fig. 51.—Echinomyia grossa. the very food which was intended for
others. Their larvæ, which are soon
hatched, make great havoc among the
provisions gathered together in the cave, and cause the legitimate
proprietors to die of starvation.
"This instinct," says M. Macquart, "is accompanied by the greatest
agility, obstinacy, and audacity, which are necessary to carry on this
brigandage; and, on the other hand, the Hymenoptera, seized with fear, or
stupefied, offer no resistance to their enemies, and although they carry on a
continual war against different insects, and particularly against different
Muscides, they never seize those of whom they have so much to complain,
and which, nevertheless, have no arms to oppose them with."
The Sarcophagæ are a very common family of Diptera, and are chiefly
to be found on flowers, from which they steal the juice. The females do not
lay eggs, but are viviparous.

Réaumur, with his usual care, observed this remarkable instance of
viviparism proved in a fly, which seeks those parts of our houses where
meat is kept to deposit its larvæ. This fly is grey, its legs are black, and its
eyes red.
When one of them is taken and held between the fingers, there may
often be seen a small, oblong, whitish, cylindrical worm come out of the
posterior part of the body, and shake itself in order to disengage itself
thoroughly. It has no sooner freed itself than the head of another begins to
show. Thirty or forty sometimes come out in this manner, and, on pressing
the abdomen of the fly slightly, more than eighty of these larvæ may
sometimes be made to come out in a short space of time. If a piece of meat
be put near these worms, they quickly get into it, and eat greedily. They
grow rapidly, attaining their full size in a few days, and make a cocoon of
their skin, from which in a certain time the imago issues. If the body of one
of these ovo-viviparous flies (for the eggs hatch within the parent) be
opened, a sort of thick ribbon of spiral form is soon seen. This ribbon
appears at first sight to be nothing but an assemblage of worms, placed
alongside of and parallel to one another.
Each worm has a thin white membranous envelope, similar to those
light spiders' webs which float about in autumn, which the French call fils
de la vierge, and we denominate gossamer.
The fecundity of this fly is very great, for, in the length of a quarter of
an inch, the envelope in which these small worms are enclosed contains
2,000 of them. Therefore this ribbon, being two inches and a half long,
contains about 20,000 worms.
The members of the genus Stomoxys, though nearly related to the house-
fly, differ from it very much in habits. They live on the blood of animals.
The Stomoxys calcitrans is very common in these climates. Its palpi are
tawny yellow, antennæ black, thorax striped with black, abdomen spotted
with brown, and its trunk hard, thin, and long. It deposits its eggs on the
carcases of large animals.
The Golden Fly, Lucilia Cæsar, lays its eggs on cut-up meat, or on dead
animals. It is only three or four lines in length, of a golden green, with the
palpi ferruginous, antennæ brown, and feet black.

Fig. 52.—Lucilia hominivorax.

A species of this genus, the Lucilia hominivorax, has lately obtained a
melancholy notoriety. We are indebted to M. Charles Coquerel, surgeon in
the French Imperial navy, for the most exact information concerning this
dangerous Dipteron, and the revelation of the dangers to which man is liable
in certain parts of the globe. But let us first describe the insect, which is
very pretty and of brilliant colours.
Fig. 52, taken from M. Charles Coquerel's Memoir, represents the larva
and the perfect insect, as well as the horny mandibles with which the larva
is provided. It is rather more than the third of an inch in length, the head is
large, downy, and of a golden yellow. The thorax is dark blue and very
brilliant, with reflections of purple, as is also the abdomen. The wings are
transparent, and have rather the appearance of being smoked; their margins,
as well as the feet, are black.
This beautiful insect is an assassin. M. Coquerel has informed us that it
sometimes occasions the death of those wretched convicts whom human
justice has transported to the distant penitentiary of Cayenne.
When one of these degraded beings, who live in a state of sordid filth,
goes to sleep, a prey to intoxication, it happens sometimes that this fly gets
into his mouth and nostrils; it lays its eggs there, and when they are changed
into larvæ, the death of the victim generally follows.[17]
These larvæ are of an opaque white colour, a little over half an inch in
length, and have eleven segments. They are lodged in the interior of the
nasal orifices and the frontal sinuses, and their mouths are armed with two
very sharp horny mandibles. They have been known to reach the ball of the
eye, and to gangrene the eyelids. They enter the mouth, corrode and devour

the gums and the entrance of the throat, so as to transform those parts into a
mass of putrid flesh, a heap of corruption.
Let us turn away from this horrible description, and observe that this
hominivorous fly is not, properly speaking, a parasite of man, as it only
attacks him accidentally, as it would attack any animal that was in a daily
state of uncleanliness.
In many works on medicine may be found mentioned a circumstance
which occurred twenty years ago, at the surgery of M. J. Cloquet. The story
is perhaps not very agreeable, but is so interesting as regards the subject
with which we are occupied, that we think it ought to be repeated here. One
day a poor wretch, half dead, was brought to the Hôtel-Dieu. He was a
beggar, who, having some tainted meat in his wallet, had gone to sleep in
the sun under a tree. He must have slept long, as the flies had time enough
to deposit their eggs on the tainted meat, and the larvæ time enough to be
hatched, and to devour the beggar's meat. It seems that the larvæ enjoyed
the repast, for they passed from the dead meat to the living flesh, and after
devouring the meat they commenced to eat the owner. Awoke by the pain,
the beggar was taken to the Hôtel-Dieu, where he expired.
Who would suppose that one of the causes which render the centre of
Africa difficult to be explored is a fly not larger than the house-fly? The
Tsetse fly (Fig. 53) is of brown colour, with a few transverse yellow stripes
across the abdomen, and with wings longer than its body. It is not dangerous
to man, to any wild animals, or to the pig, the mule, the ass, or the goat. But
it stings mortally the ox, the horse, the sheep, and the dog, and renders the
countries of Central Africa uninhabitable for those valuable animals. It
seems to possess very sharp sight. "It darts from the top of a bush as quick
as an arrow on the object it wishes to attack," writes a traveller, M. de
Castelnau.

Fig. 53.—The Tsetse Fly (Glossina morsitans).

Mr. Chapman, one of the travellers who have advanced the farthest into
the middle of Southern Africa, relates that he covered his body with the
greatest care to avoid the bites of this nimble enemy; but if a thorn
happened to make a nearly imperceptible hole in his clothing, he often saw
the Tsetse, who appeared to know that it could not penetrate the cloth, dart
forward and bite him on the uncovered part. The sucker of blood secretes—
in a gland placed at the base of his trunk—so subtle a poison, that three or
four flies are sufficient to kill an ox.
The Glossina morsitans abounds on the banks of the African river, the
Zambesi, frequenting the bushes and reeds that border it. It likes, indeed, all
aquatic situations. The African cattle recognise at great distances the
buzzing of this sanguinary enemy, and this fatal sound causes them to feel
the greatest fear.
Livingstone, the celebrated traveller, in crossing those regions of Africa
that are watered by the Zambesi, lost forty-three magnificent oxen by the
bites of the Tsetse fly, notwithstanding that they were carefully watched,
and had been very little bitten.
"A most remarkable feature in the bite of the Tsetse is its perfect
harmlessness in man and wild animals, and even calves so long as they

continue to suck the cows. We never experienced the slightest injury from
them ourselves personally, although we lived two months in their habitat,
which was in this case as sharply defined as in many others, for the south
bank of the Chobe was infested by them, and the northern bank, where our
cattle were placed, only fifty yards distant, contained not a single specimen.
This was the more remarkable, as we often saw natives carrying over raw
meat to the opposite bank with many Tsetses settled on it.
"The poison does not seem to be injected by a sting, or by ova placed
beneath the skin, for, when one is allowed to feed freely on the hand, it is
seen to insert the middle prong of three portions, into which the proboscis
divides, somewhat deeply, into the true skin. It then draws it out a little way,
and it assumes a crimson colour, as the mandibles come into brisk
operation. The previously-shrunken belly swells out, and, if left
undisturbed, the fly quietly departs when it is full. A slight itching irritation
follows, but not more than in the bite of the mosquito. In the ox this same
bite produces no more immediate effects than in man. It does not startle
him, as the gad-fly does; but a few days afterwards the following symptoms
supervene: the eyes and nose begin to run, the coat stares as if the animal
were cold, a swelling appears under the jaw, and sometimes on the navel;
and, though the animal continues to graze, emaciation commences,
accompanied with a peculiar flaccidity of the muscles, and this proceeds
unchecked until, perhaps months afterwards, purging comes on, and the
animal, no longer able to graze, perishes in the state of extreme exhaustion.
Those which are in good condition often perish, soon after the bite is
inflicted, with staggering and blindness, as if the brain were affected by it.
Sudden changes of temperature produced by falls of rain seem to hasten the
progress of the complaint; but in general the emaciation goes on
uninterruptedly for months, and, do what we will, the poor animals perish
miserably.
"When opened, the cellular tissue on the surface of the body beneath the
skin is seen to be injected with air, as if a quantity of soap bubbles were
scattered over it, or a dishonest awkward butcher had been trying to make it
look fat. The fat is of a greenish-yellow colour, and of an oily consistence.
All the muscles are flabby, and the heart often so soft that the fingers may
be made to meet through it. The lungs and liver partake of the disease. The
stomach and bowels are pale and empty, and the gall-bladder is distended

with bile. These symptoms seem to indicate, what is probably the case, a
poison in the blood; the germ of which enters when the proboscis is inserted
to draw blood. The poison-germ contained in a bulb at the root of the
proboscis, seems capable, although very minute in quantity, of reproducing
itself. The blood after death by Tsetse is very small in quantity, and scarcely
stains the hands in dissection....
"The mule, ass, and goat enjoy the same immunity from the Tsetse as
man and game. Many large tribes on the Zambesi can keep no domestic
animals except the goat, in consequence of the scourge existing in their
country. Our children were frequently bitten, yet suffered no harm; and we
saw around us numbers of zebras, buffaloes, pigs, pallahs and other
antelopes, feeding quietly in the very habitat of the Tsetse, yet as
undisturbed by its bite as oxen are when they first receive the fatal poison.
There is not so much difference in the natures of the horse and zebra, the
buffalo and ox, the sheep and the antelope, as to afford any satisfactory
explanation of the phenomenon. Is a man not as much a domestic animal as
a dog?
"The curious feature in the case, that dogs perish though fed on milk,
whereas the calves escape so long as they continue sucking, made us
imagine that the mischief might be produced by some plant in the locality,
and not by Tsetse; but Major Vardon, of the Madras army, settled that point
by riding a horse up to a small hill infested by the insect, without allowing
him time to graze, and though he only remained long enough to take a view
of the country and catch some specimens of Tsetse on the animal, in ten
days afterwards the horse was dead."[18]
The inhabitants of the Zambesi can, therefore, have no domestic animal
but the goat. When herds of cattle driven by travellers or dealers are obliged
to cross these regions, they only move them during the bright nights of the
cool season, and are careful to smear them with dung mixed with milk; the
Tsetse fly having an intense antipathy to the dung of animals, besides being
in this season rendered dormant by the lowness of the temperature. It is only
by such precautions that they are able to get through this dangerous stage of
their journey.
The large blue Meat-fly, the familiar representative of the genus
Calliphora, is known to all by its brilliant blue and white reflecting

abdomen. This fly, which is common everywhere, is the Calliphora
vomitoria on which Réaumur has made many beautiful observations, which
we will make known to our readers.
If we shut up a blue meat-fly in a glass vase, as
Réaumur did, and place near the insect a piece of
fresh meat, before half a day is passed, the fly will
have deposited its eggs thereon one after the other,
in irregular heaps, of various sizes. The whole of
these heaps consist of about two hundred eggs,
which are of an iridescent white colour, and four or Fig. 54.—Eggs of the
five times as long as they are broad. In less than Meat-fly
twenty-four hours after the egg is laid the larvæ is (Calliphora vomitoria).
hatched. It is no sooner born than it thinks of
feeding, and buries itself in the meat with the aid of
the hooks and lancets with which it is provided.
These worms do not appear to discharge any solid excrement, but they
produce a sticky liquid, which keeps the meat in a moist state and hastens its
putrefaction. The larvæ eat voraciously and continually; so much so, that in
four or five days they arrive at their full growth. They then take no more
nourishment until they are transformed into flies. They are now about to
assume the pupa state. In this condition it is no longer necessary for them to
remain on the tainted meat, which has been alike their cradle and their
larder, and where until now they were so well off. They therefore leave it
and seek a retreat under ground.
The larva then assumes a globular form and reddish colour, loses all
motion, and cannot any longer either lengthen or shorten, or dilate or
contract itself. Life seems to have left it. "It would be considered a miracle,"
says Réaumur, "if we were told there was any kind of quadruped of the size
of a bear, or of an ox, which at a certain time of the year, the beginning of
winter for instance, disengages itself completely from its skin, of which it
makes a box of an oval form; that it shuts itself up in this box; that it knows
how to close it in every part, and besides that it knows how to strengthen it
in such a manner as to preserve itself from the effects of the air and the
attacks of other animals. This prodigy is presented to us, on a small scale, in
the metamorphosis of our larva. It casts its skin to make itself a strong and
well-closed dwelling."

If one opens these cocoons only twenty-four hours after the
metamorphoses of the worms, no vestige of those parts appertaining to a
pupa is to be found. But four or five days afterwards, the cocoon is occupied
by a white pupa, provided with all the parts of a fly. The legs and wings,
although enclosed in sheaths, are very distinct; these sheaths being so thin
that they do not conceal them. The trunk of the fly rests on the thorax; one
can discern its lips, and the case which encloses the lancet. The head is large
and well formed, its large, compound eyes being very distinct. The wings
appear still unformed, because they are folded, and, as it were, packed up. It
is a fly, but an immovable and inanimate fly; it is like a mummy enveloped
in its cloths.
Nevertheless, it is intended this mummy should awake, and when the
time comes it will be strong and vigorous. Indeed, it has need of strength
and vigour to accomplish the important work of its life. Although its
coverings are thin, it is a considerable work for the insect to emerge, for
each of its exterior parts is enclosed in them as in a case, much the same as
a glove fits tightly to all the fingers of the hand. But that for which the most
strength is necessary is the operation of forming the opening of the cocoon,
in which as a mummy it is so tightly enclosed.
The fly always comes out at the same end of the cocoon, that is, at the
end where its head is placed, and also where the head of the larva previously
was. This end is composed of two parts—of two half cups placed one
against the other. These can be detached from each other and from the rest
of the cocoon. It is sufficient for the fly that one can be detached, and in
order to effect this, it employs a most astonishing means. It expands and
contracts its head alternately, as if by dilatation; and thus pushes the two
half cups away from the end of the cocoon. This is not long able to resist the
battering of the fly's head, and the insect at length comes out triumphant.
This fly, which should be blue, is then grey; it, however, comes quickly to
perfection, at the end of three hours attaining its ultimate colour; and in a
very short space of time every part of the animal becomes of that firmness
and consistency which characterises them. At the same time, the wings,
which at the moment it came into the world were only stumps, extend and
unfold themselves by degrees. The meat-fly is represented below (Fig. 55).
One of the features in the formation of this fly which most attracted the
attention of Réaumur, and which is likely to excite the curiosity of all those

who take an interest in insects, is the
composition of its trunk. We will,
therefore, with that illustrious observer,
take a glimpse at the remarkable and
complicated apparatus by the aid of
which the fly can suck up liquids, and
can even taste solid and crystalline
substances, such as sugar.
It is no difficult matter to make a fly Fig. 55.—Blue-bottle fly (Calliphora
show its trunk extended to its full extent. vomitoria), magnified.
One has only to press between the finger
and thumb either the two sides of the
upper and under part of the thorax. It is thus forced at once to put out its
tongue.
The trunk appears to be composed of two parts joined together, and
forming a more or less obtuse angle (Fig. 56). The first portion of the trunk,
that which joins the head, is perfectly membranous and in the form of a
funnel. We will call it the conical part, and show it separately (Fig. 57). The
second portion terminates in a thick mass, in part cartilaginous or scaly, and
of a shiny brown colour. Above the conical portion are two oblong antennæ,
without joints, of chestnut colour, and furnished with hairs.

Fig. 56.—Trunk of the Meat-fly. Fig. 57.—Conical part of the trunk.

On ceasing to press the thorax, the membranous conical portion may be
seen to draw itself back within its sheath (Fig. 58). The second portion is at
the same time drawn into the cavity, but it raises itself by forming a more
and more acute angle, so that when it reaches the opening of the cell it is
parallel with, and its length is equal to that of the cell, which is quite large
enough to receive it. The base lengthens and flattens a little, and conceals
the trunk.

Fig. 58. Fig. 59.
Retractile proboscis of Blue-bottle fly. Extremity on the proboscis of a fly.

Let us cause the trunk to extend itself a second time, in order to observe
its tip minutely. Here the opening is placed, which may be looked upon as
the mouth of the insect, and is provided with two large thick lips (Fig. 59).
These lips form a disc, perpendicular to the axis of the trunk; the disc is
oval, and is divided into two equal and similar parts by a slit. The lips have
each a considerable number of parallel channels situated perpendicularly to
the slit. These channels are formed by a succession of vessels placed near
each other. On pressing the trunk we see that these vessels are distended by
a liquid. Réaumur, from whom we borrow these details, discovered a few of
the uses to which this trunk is applied. He covered the interior of a
transparent glass vase with a light coat of thick syrup. He then put in some
flies, when it was easy to see some of them proceed to fix themselves to the
sides of the vase, and regale themselves on the sugary liquid, of which they
are very fond. He observed them carefully, and in his admirable work he
recommends those who are curious to try the experiment, with which, like
himself, they will certainly be satisfied.
While the body of the trunk is stationary its end is much agitated. It may
be seen to move in different ways, and with an astonishing quickness; the
lips acting in a hundred different ways, and always with great rapidity. The
small diameter of the disc which they form lengthens and shortens
alternately; the angle formed by the two lips varies every instant; they
become successively flat and convex, either entirely or partly. All these
movements, Réaumur remarks, give a high idea of the organisation of the
part which performs them.
The object of all these movements is to draw the syrup into the interior
of the trunk. If we observe the lips (Fig. 60) attentively, it will easily be seen
that they touch each other about the centre of the disc, and leave two
openings, one in front, the other at the back. The one in front is, one may
say, the mouth of the fly, as it is to this opening that the liquid is brought,

which is intended to be and is soon introduced into the trunk. Without
occupying ourselves for the present with the channel through which it rises,
we may first ask, whatever that channel may be, what is the power that
forces the liquid into it?
It is nearly certain that suction is the principal cause of the
liquid flowing up the trunk. It would thus be a sort of pump,
into which the liquid is forced by the pressure of the external
air. The fly exhausts the air from the tube of its trunk, and the
drop of liquid which is at the opening penetrates and goes up
this channel through the influence of the atmospheric pressure. Fig. 60.
To this physical phenomenon must be added the numerous and Lips of the
multiplied movements which take place in the trunk, and which proboscis
are intended to cause sufficient pressure to drive the liquor of a fly.
which is introduced into the channel upwards.
Réaumur wished to know how it was that very thick syrups, and even
solid sugar, can be sucked up by the soft trunk of the fly. What he saw is
wonderful. If a fly meets with too thick a syrup, it can render it sufficiently
liquid; if the sugar is too hard, it can dissolve small portions of it. In fact,
there exists in its body a supply of liquid, of which it discharges a drop from
the end of its trunk at will, and lets this fall on the sugar which it wishes to
dissolve, or on the syrup it wishes to dilute. A fly, when held between the
fingers, often shows at the end of its trunk a drop, very fluid and
transparent, of this liquid. "The water poured on the syrup," says Réaumur,
"would not always insinuate itself sufficiently quick into every part of it; the
movement of the fly's lips hastens the operation; the lips turn over, work,
and knead it, so that the water can quickly penetrate it, in the same way as
one handles and kneads with one's hands a hard paste which it is wished to
soften, by causing the water by which it is covered to mix with it. This,
again, is the same means the fly employs with sugar. When the trunk is
forced to act upon a grain of irregular and rugged form, on which it cannot
easily fasten, its end distorts itself to seize and hold it. It is sometimes very
amusing to see how the fly turns over the grain of sugar in different ways; it
appears to play with it as a monkey would with an apple. It is, however,
only that it may hold it well in order to moisten it more successfully, and
afterwards to pump up the water which has partly dissolved it."

Réaumur often observed a drop of water at the end of the trunks of flies
which were perfectly surfeited with food. This drop ascended the trunk, then
re-descended to the end, and this many times in succession. It appeared to
him that it was necessary for these insects, as for many quadrupeds, to chew
the cud, as it were; that, in order the better to digest the liquid they had
passed into their stomachs, they were obliged to bring it back into the trunk
that it might return again better prepared.
In order to assure himself directly of the reality of his supposition,
Réaumur tested the water which a fly, that he says "had got drunk on sugar,"
had brought back to the end of its trunk; he found this to be sugar and water.
Also, having given a fly currant-jelly, he observed, after it had sufficiently
gorged itself, several drops of red liquid in its trunk, and having tasted it,
found it had the flavour which, from its appearance, he guessed it would
have.
The illustrious observer, who had already made all these discoveries on
the formation and functions of the trunks of insects, often reflected on the
fact that the liquors of which flies are most fond are enclosed under the skin
of certain fruits, such as pears, plums, grapes, &c., or even under the skin of
some animals of which they suck the blood. In order that the trunk of a fly
may act under such circumstances, it is necessary for it to pierce and open
the skin. If this is the case, flies ought to be possessed of a lancet. He looked
a long time for this lancet, and at last found it. It is situated on the upper
side of the part of the trunk which is terminated by the lips; it is placed in a
fleshy groove, and is enclosed in a case. It has a very fine point, and is of
light colour (Fig. 61). The point is situated in the opening which is to be
seen between the lips of the trunk, at its anterior end, through which liquids
may pass. That is the only opening of the lips; and the sucker which takes
up the liquid is the same part which we just now called the case of the
lancet.
Réaumur is so interesting an author that it is difficult to cease quoting
him; but we must continue our review of the principal kinds of Diptera.
The genus Musca (fly), in which Linnæus comprised the immense series
of Diptera, with the exception of the Tipulidæ, the Tabanidæ, the Asilidæ,
the Bombylidæ, and the Empidæ, is now reduced to the House Fly and a few
resembling it. The habits of these troublesome companions are in

conformity with the two great principles of animal life, that is, eating and
propagating their species.
Flies feed principally on fluids which exude from the bodies of animals;
that is, sweat, saliva, and other secretions. They also seek vegetable juices;
and they may be seen in our houses to feed eagerly on fruits and sweet
substances.

Fig. 61.—Lancet of the Meat Fly. Fig. 62.—House Fly (Musca domestica).

The common flies deposit their eggs on vegetables, and particularly on
fungi in a state of decomposition, on dung-heaps, cow dung, &c. They are
essentially parasites, settling on both man and beast, to suck up the fluid
substances which are diffused over the surface of their bodies. In our
dwellings they eat anything that will serve to nourish them. Generation
succeeds generation with the greatest rapidity.
The House Fly (Musca domestica, Fig. 62) is about three lines in length,
ash coloured, with the face black, the sides of the head yellow, and the
forehead yellow with black stripes; the thorax is marked with black lines;
the abdomen is pale underneath, and a transparent yellow at the sides, in the
males, and is speckled with black. The feet are black; the wings transparent,
and yellowish at the base. This species is extremely plentiful throughout the
whole of Europe. Every one knows how annoying it is towards the end of
the summer, and especially so in the South of France during the hot season.
The Ox Fly (Musca bovina), a near relation of the house fly, is also very
common. It settles on the nostrils, the eyes, and the wounds of animals.
The Executioner Fly (Musca carnifex), which is not rare in France, also
attacks oxen. It is of a dark metallic green colour with a slight ash-coloured
down. Its forehead is silvery at the front and sides; the abdomen is edged
with black; the wings hyaline, and yellow at the base.
Section of the Anthomyides.—The section of Anthomyides comprises
insects which appear to be Creophili whose organisation has become
weakened by almost insensible degrees. Their colours vary very much—

black, grey, and iron-colour are everlastingly shaded and blended together.
To that may be added reflections which are above the ground colour, and
which change the hues of the little animal according to the incidence of the
rays of light. The Anthomyides resemble the genus Musca very closely in
their habits as well as in their organisation.
In this group of Diptera we will first say a few
words about the Anthomiæ. These flies are to be
found in most gardens, and on all flowers,
particularly on the heads of Compositæ and
Umbelliferæ. They often unite in numerous bands in
the air, and indulge in the joyous dances to which
love invites them. The females deposit their eggs in
the ground, and their larvæ are there quickly
developed. The latter suspend themselves to certain
bodies, the same as some lepidopterous chrysalides,
in order to transform themselves into pupæ.
The Anthomyia pluvialis (Fig. 63) is from two to
four lines in length, and of a whitish ash-colour. Its
wings are hyaline, the thorax has five black spots,
and the abdomen three rows of similar spots.
We will stop a moment with the Pegomyiæ,
Fig. 63.—Anthomyia which are very interesting in the larva state, and
pluvialis. which excited the interest and sagacity of Réaumur.
The cradle of these Diptera is the interior of
leaves. They work as the miners of the vegetable world, in the parenchyma
or cellular tissue of the leaf, between the two epidermal membranes. The
henbane, the sorrel, and the thistle, especially nourish them. If one holds a
leaf in which one of these miners has established itself against the light, one
sees the workman boring the vegetable membrane. Its head is armed with a
hook, formed of two horny pieces, and with this hook it digs into the
parenchyma of the leaf. The effect of this digging is visible, as those places
become by degrees transparent. Each blow detaches a small portion of the
substance of the leaf. It is thus that these miners hollow out galleries for
themselves, in which they find shelter, food, and security. Some are changed

into pupæ in the gallery which they have hollowed out, others go out of the
leaves when they are near their final transformation.
Section of Acalyptera.—The Acalyptera,
which are the last of the great tribe of
Muscidæ, comprehend the greater number of
these insects. Their constitution appears to be
peculiar and slow. They live principally in the
thickest part of woods, on grasses, and
aquatic plants. Fearing the lustre and warmth
of the sun, they never draw the nectar from
flowers. Their flight is feeble, and they never
indulge in those joyous ethereal dances which
we have mentioned when speaking of the
preceding groups. Their life is generally
melancholy, obscure, and hidden. Some of
them seek decomposed animal and vegetable
substances, others living vegetables.
We shall only be able in this immense
group of Muscidæ to mention a few types
which are interesting from various reasons,
such as the Helomyzæ, the Scatophagæ, the
Ortalides, the Daci, and the Thyreophoræ.
The Helomyzæ (Fig. 64) live in the
woods. Their larvæ are developed in the Fig. 64.—A species of Helomyza.
interior of fungi. Réaumur studied the larvæ
of the Truffle Helomyza. The head of this fly is ferruginous, its thorax is of
a brownish grey, its shoulders of a brownish yellow, its wings brownish, the
abdomen yellow and brown, and the feet red. The larvæ of these insects
commit depredations for which gourmands will never forgive them,
destroying, as they do, their truffles. When one presses between one's
fingers a truffle that is in a too advanced state, one feels certain soft parts,
which yield under pressure. On opening the truffle, the larvæ of the insect of
which we are speaking will be found inside. These larvæ are white and very
transparent. Their mouth is armed with two black hooks, by means of which
they dig into the truffle in the same way as other larvæ dig into meat. The
excretions of these little parasites cause the truffle to become decomposed

and rotten. In a few days the larvæ become full-grown. They then leave
their abode and go into the ground, there to change into pupæ.
The Ortalidæ form a tribe which is remarkable for the upright carriage
of the wings, which are generally speckled, by the vibratory movement of
these organs, and especially for the cradle chosen by them for their progeny
in fruits and grains. Nature seems to have assigned to each species its own
particular vegetable.
We will only mention here the Cherry-tree Ortalis, whose larva lives on
the pulp of that fruit. This fly is about a line and a half long. It is of rather a
metallic black colour, its head light yellow, the edges of its eyes white, and
the tarsi red. The wings have four broad black stripes.
The Olive Dacus (Dacus oleæ, Fig.
65) is a little fly, about half the size of the
house fly, of ashy grey colour on the
back, its head orange-yellow, its eyes
green, and its forehead yellow, marked
with two large black spots. The thorax is
adorned with four lightish yellow spots,
and its hind part, as well as its antennæ
Fig. 65.—Dacus oleæ. and wings, are of the same colour. The
wings are transparent, reflecting green,
gold, pink, and blue, according as the rays of light fall upon them, and are
remarkable for having a small black spot at their extremity. The abdomen is
of a fawn colour or orange-yellow, spotted with black on each side. This fly
performs sudden and jerking movements; it keeps its wings extended, and
rather jumps than flies. It is a destructive insect, a perfect scourge, which
causes every two or three years a loss of five or six millions of francs to
French agriculture.
M. Guérin-Méneville has made some valuable observations on the Olive
Dacus, and at the request of the Imperial Society of Agriculture of Paris, has
indicated the way to preserve the olive from these ruinous larvæ, which
generally destroy two crops out of three. We will borrow the following
details from this learned entomologist: "At the time when the olives are
formed the Dacus proceeds to place an egg under the skin of each of the
fruits. By means of a little horny instrument, with which the female is

provided, and which contains a small lancet, she pierces the skin of the
olive; she moves her wings and lays her egg. She afterwards cleans and
rests herself, by passing her feet over her head, wings, and other parts of her
body. She then flies away, and seeks another olive, to deposit in it another
egg; she repeats this operation until she has placed on as many olives the
three or four hundred eggs which she bears."

Fig. 66.—Olives attacked by Dacus oleæ.

Fig. 66, taken from the Memoir published by M. Guérin-Méneville, in
the "Revue Nouvelle" of the 15th July, 1847, shows the Dacus laying its
eggs on the olive, and the larvæ that are already hatched in another of the
same fruit. The larvæ which succeed these eggs (Fig. 67) are whitish, soft,
and without limbs. They pass fifteen or sixteen days in boring a gallery in
the pulp of the olive, at first vertically, until they reach the stone, then on
one side, and along the side of the stone. When they have reached the term

of their development, they approach the surface, enlarging the first channel
and leaving between it and the exterior air only a thin pellicle, in the middle
of which may be perceived the first small opening by which the mother had
introduced her egg in the commencement.

Fig. 67. Fig. 68.
Larvæ of Dacus oleæ (magnified and natural Gallery formed by larva of Dacus
size). oleæ.

Fig. 68, copied from a drawing in the Memoirs of M. Guérin-Méneville,
shows the gallery bored round the olive by the larva of the Dacus. The larva
thus prepares an easy issue for the perfect insect. Its skin then contracts, its
body diminishes in length, and is transformed into an oval cocoon, which
soon gets brown, and is the chrysalis of the insect. At the side of the head it
shows a curved line, a thin suture which marks a sort of cap or door, which,
at the time of its hatching, the insect will be easily able to force open with
its head. The fly is hatched twelve days after its metamorphosis from the
larva to the pupa. It has thus taken the Dacus twenty-seven to twenty-eight
days to arrive at this state, from the time the egg was laid; besides which,
this species, in the warm climates of Provence and Italy, can reproduce itself
several times from the beginning of July, the period at which the first flies
begin to lay, till the end of autumn.
In order to save a considerable portion of the olive crop of these
countries, M. Guérin-Méneville has advised hastening the harvest
sufficiently for all the olives to be pressed at a time when the larvæ of the
last generation, which would be preserved in the olives that are left, or in
the earth, according to the climate, are still in the fruit. If a first operation
were not sufficient to destroy them all, it should be repeated the following
year. The sacrifice entailed by this practice would be amply compensated by
a succession of good crops and the certainty of a sure and permanent profit.

In fact, by an early gathering at least half a crop of oil is still obtained;
whereas, by waiting for the usual period of gathering the olives, sufficient
time is left for the larvæ of the Dacus to devour their parenchyma, which
deprives them of the little oil that they might have yielded if their
destruction had been accomplished earlier. This early gathering has the
advantage of causing the destruction of a great number of larvæ, which will
be so much towards diminishing the means of reproduction of the fly.

III.

HEMIPTERA.
The Hemiptera are particularly distinguished from other kinds of insects
by the form of their mouth, which consists of a beak, more or less long,
composed of six parts: that is, of a lower lip, or sheath; four internal
threads, representing the mandibles and jaws of the grinding insects, and
which are the perforating parts of the beaks; and, lastly, of the upper lip or
labrum. Owing to this apparatus, these insects are essentially sucking ones,
and chiefly nourish themselves with the juices of vegetables, which they
draw up with their beak. The wings of the Hemiptera are usually four in
number; in some species they are membranous and similar to each other,
and in others the upper are of rather harder consistency than the lower ones.
In general, the former are quite different from the lower wings, and are only
membranous at the tip, whereas the other part is thick, tough, and
coriaceous.
The Hemiptera are divided into two very distinct sections. The one is
composed of insects whose beak grows from the forehead or upper part of
the head, and whose anterior wings are half coriaceous and half
membranous, having the base of a different texture from the extremity:
these are the Heteroptera (ἑτερος, different; πτερον, wing). The other
section is composed of those whose beak grows from the lower part of the
head, and whose anterior wings are always of the same consistency
throughout: these are the Homoptera (ὁμος, the same; πτερον, wing). We
are about to give the history of these two sub-orders.

Heteroptera.

The insects formerly known by the general name of Bugs have been
divided by Latreille into two large families, containing: the one the
Geocorisæ, [19] or Land Bugs; the other the Hydrocorisæ, [20] or Water
Bugs.
The land bugs consist of a great number of kinds, which, for the most
part, are of little interest. We will only mention here the Peniatomidæ,
commonly known as Wood Bugs; the Lygæi, Bugs, properly so called; the
Reduvii, and the Hydrometræ.
The Pentatomidæ, which comprise many genera, include the wood bugs
of most authors. They are to be found on plants and trees. They fly quickly,
but only for a short time.
The Ornamented Pentatoma (Strachia [Pentatoma]
ornata), known as the Red Cabbage Bug, is very
commonly found on the cabbage, and on most of the
cruciferous plants. It is variegated with red and black, and
its colours are subject to numerous variations. The Grey
Pentatoma (Raphigaster griseus), Fig. 69, is common
throughout the whole of Europe. In autumn these bugs Fig. 69.
are frequently to be found on raspberries, to which they Grey Pentatoma
impart their disagreeable smell. They are also to be found (Raphigaster
in quantities on the mullein, when that plant is in flower. griseus).
The upper parts of the head are of a greyish brown, and
are sometimes slightly purple. The coriaceous part of the
hemelytra is of a purple tint, but the membranous part is brown. All these
parts are covered with black spots, which are only to be seen with a
magnifying-glass. The wings are blackish. The under part of the whole
body and the feet are of a light and rather yellowish grey, with a
considerable number of small black spots. The abdomen is black above; and
it is bordered with alternate black and white spots.
We have repeated here the description given of this bug by the
illustrious Swedish naturalist, De Geer, because our young readers have
most likely met with this insect, or will do so some day when gathering
raspberries.
The Grey Pentatoma, marked with black, yellow, and red, is to be found
throughout the whole of Europe in cultivated fields and gardens, sometimes

also on the trunks of large trees, especially elms. This species, in common
with the greater part of those which compose the group we are describing,
emits a smell when irritated or menaced by some danger. At other times no
odour will be noticed. Let us hear what M. Léon Dufour says on this
subject.
"Seize the Pentatoma with a pair of pincers and plunge it into a glass of
clear water; look through a magnifying-glass, and you will see innumerable
small globules arising from its body, which, bursting on the surface of the
water, exhale that odour which is so disagreeable. This vapour, which is
essentially acrid, if it happens to touch the eyes, causes a considerable
amount of irritation. If one of these insects is held between the fingers, so as
not to stop up the odoriferous orifices, and to cause this vapour to touch a
part of the skin, a spot, either brown or livid, will ensue on that part, which
lotions, though repeatedly applied, will at first fail to remove, and which
produces in the cutaneous tissue an alteration similar to that which succeeds
the application of mineral acids."
The disagreeable smell exhaled by different species of Pentatoma is the
result of a fluid secreted by a single pear-shaped gland, either red or yellow,
which occupies the centre of the thorax, and which terminates between the
hind legs.
With the Syromastes, which are bugs of this same section, the secretion
has, on the contrary, an agreeable smell, which reminds one of that of
apples. Many kinds of Pentatoma are destructive to agriculture. Others,
however, attack the destructive insects, and ought therefore to be carefully
spared. We will mention in this case the Blue Pentatoma, which kills the
Altica [21] of the vine.
There may be observed, at the foot and about the lower part of trees, or
at the base of walls exposed to the mid-day sun, groups of fifty or sixty
small insects pressed close to each other, and often one on the top of the
other, their heads in the direction of a centre point. They are red, spotted
with black. In the neighbourhood of Paris the children call them "Suisses,"
probably on account of the red on their bodies, that being the colour of the
uniform of the Swiss troops formerly in the service of France. In Burgundy
the children call them "petits cochons rouges." They will be found
described in Geoffroy's "Histoire des Insectes," under the name of the Red

Garden Bug. At the present day they are placed in the genus Lygæus.[22]
When the bad weather comes, these little "Suisses" take refuge under stones
and the bark of trees to pass the winter. During the whole of that season
they remain in a sort of torpid state. But in the first days of spring they
revive, and resume their ordinary habits. They suck the sap of vegetables,
piercing the capsules of divers kinds of mallows, and always keeping in the
sunshine.
The Bug, popularly so called, or Bed Bug
(Acanthia lectularia, or Cimex lectularius, Fig. 70),
a most disagreeable and stinking insect, abounds in
dirty houses, principally in towns, and above all in
those of warm countries. It lives in beds, in wood-
work, and paper-hangings. There is no crack,
however narrow it may be, into which it is unable
to slip. It is nocturnal, shunning the light.
"Nocturnum fœtidum animal," says Linnæus. Its Fig. 70.
body is oval, about the fifth of an inch in length, Bed Bug (Acanthia
flat, soft, of a brown colour, and covered with little lectularia),
hairs. Its head is provided with two hairy antennæ, magnified.
and two round black eyes, and has a short beak,
curved directly under its thorax, and lying in a
shallow groove when the animal is at rest. This
beak, composed of three joints, contains four thin,
straight, and sharp hairs. The thorax is dilated at the Fig. 71.
sides. The abdomen is very much developed, Egg of Bug, magnified.
orbicular, composed of eight segments, very much
depressed, and easily crushed by the fingers. The hemelytra are
rudimentary. It has no membranous wings. The tarsi have three
articulations, of which the last is provided with two strong hooks.
"These animals," says Moquin-Tandon, in his "Zoologie Médicale," "do
not draw up the sanguineous fluid by suction, properly so-called, as leeches
do. The organisation of their buccal apparatus does not allow of this. The
hairs of the beak applied the one against the other exercise a sort of
alternate motion, which draws the blood up into the œsophagus, very much
in the same manner as water rises in a chain pump. This rising is assisted by
the viscous nature of the fluid, and above all, by the globules it contains."

The part of the skin which the Bug has pierced, producing a painful
sensation, is easily recognised by a little reddish mark, presenting in its
centre a dark spot. Generally a little blister rises on the point pierced, and
sometimes, if the Bug-bites are numerous, these blisters become confluent,
and resemble a sort of eruption. These disgusting insects lay, towards the
month of May, oblong whitish eggs (Fig. 71), having a small aperture,
through which the larva comes out. The larva differs from the insect in its
perfect state, in its colour, which is pale or yellowish. This insect exists in
nearly the whole of Europe, although it is rare or almost unknown in the
northern parts. The towns of central Europe are the most infested by this
parasite, but those of the north are not completely free from its presence.
The Marquis de Custine assures us that at St. Petersburg he found them
numerous. It is found also in Scotland; is very rare in the south of Europe;
and seldom seen in Italy, where it is, however, replaced by other insects
more dangerous or more annoying.
It has been said that the Bug was brought into Europe from America;
but Aristotle, Pliny, and Dioscorides mention its existence. It is certain that
it was unknown in England till the beginning of the sixteenth century. A
celebrated traveller, a Spanish naturalist, Azara, has remarked that the Bug
does not infest man in his savage state, but only when congregated together
in a state of civilisation, and in houses, as in Europe. From this he
concluded that the Bug was not created till long after man, when, after
many centuries had elapsed since his appearance on the globe, men formed
themselves into societies, into republics, or little states.
The bug is not a gluttonous insect, always bloodthirsty; on the contrary,
its sobriety is remarkable. It is only after a prolonged fast that it bites
animals; and Audouin has stated that it can live a year and even two years
without food.
From time immemorial a number of different means have been
employed for destroying these insects; but in spite of all, nothing is more
difficult than to get rid of them from wood-work and paper-hangings, when
they have once infested them. In general, strong odours cause their death.
And so, to rid oneself of these disagreeable guests, it has been
recommended to use tobacco smoke, essence of turpentine, the fumes of
sulphur, &c. Mercurial ointment and corrosive sublimate are also excellent
means for their destruction; and for the same purpose the merits of a plant

belonging to the order Cruciferæ, Lepidium ruderale, have been much
vaunted; and more recently still, the root of the Pyrethrum, a species of
camomile, reduced to powder, and blown into the furniture or wood-work.
This powder is known and employed at Paris under the name of "poudre
insecticide."
There are two other kinds of bugs (Acanthia) which attack men. The
one is the Acanthia ciliata, which has been found in the houses of Kazan,
and which differs from the bed bug not only in its form, but also in its
habits. It does not live in companies, in the narrow cracks of furniture, but
moves about alone, at a slow pace, over walls or the counterpanes of beds.
Its beak is very long, and its bite is very painful, and produces obstinate
swellings.
The other species is the Acanthia rotundata, which is found in the
Island of La Réunion, and attacks men in the same way as does the
European bug. Two species of the same genus live as parasites on swallows
and domestic pigeons. There is another species, which is peculiar to the bats
of our climates.
The Reduvius personatus, called also Fly Bug, by Geoffroy, the old
historian of the insects of the environs of Paris, is common enough in
France. It keeps to the houses, and is found especially near ovens and
chimney-pieces. It is about three-quarters of an inch in length, oblong, flat
on its upper side, brownish, has horizontal hemelytra crossed over each
other, and very fully developed wings, which serve for flight. Its head,
narrow, supported by a well-defined neck, is provided with two composite
and two simple eyes. It requires, no doubt, to see very clearly, as it flies by
night. It should not be caught without great caution. If you desire to
examine it closely, when, in the hottest part of the summer, it comes in the
evening and flutters round the lights, you must be careful how you seize it,
for it wounds. The wounds inflicted by it are very painful—more painful
than those of the bee—and they immediately cause a numbness.
As the Reduvius kills different insects very rapidly, by piercing them
with its long beak, it is probable that it secretes some kind of venom. But as
yet the organ that produces this poison has not been discovered. However
that may be, its beak is curved, and about the tenth of an inch long, the

surface bristling with hairs. It is composed of three joints, and contains four
stiff, lanceolate, and very pointed squamose hairs.
This insect often seeks its prey in places where spiders spin their webs.
When they walk on, or are caught in, the spiders' webs, the spiders take care
not to seize them, for they fear their beak. They prudently allow them to
struggle about the nets, where they very soon die of hunger. The Reduvius is
often seen, either a prisoner or dead, in the midst of a spider's web.
"This bug," says Charles de Geer, "has, in the pupal condition, or before
its wings are developed, an appearance altogether hideous and revolting.
One would take it, at the first glance, for one of the ugliest of spiders. That
which above all renders it so disagreeable to the sight is that it is entirely
covered, and, as it were, enveloped with a greyish matter, which is nothing
else but the dust which one sees in the corners of badly-swept rooms, and
which is generally mixed with sand and particles of wool, or silk, or other
similar matters which come from furniture and clothes, rendering the legs
of this insect thick and deformed, and giving to its whole body a very
singular appearance."
What instincts! what habits! Under this borrowed costume, under this
cloak, which is no part of itself, the insect, as it were, masked, has become
twice its real size. What becomes of its disguise, and how does it manage to
walk? Of what use to it is this dirty and grotesque fancy dress?
Let us listen to De Geer. "It walks as fast, when it likes, as other bugs;
but generally its walk is slow, and it moves with measured steps. After
having taken one step forward, it stops a while, and then takes another,
leaving, at each movement, the opposite leg in repose; it goes on thus
continually, step after step in succession, which gives it the appearance of
walking as if by jerks, and in measure. It makes almost the same sort of
movement with its antennæ, which it moves also at intervals and by jerks.
All these movements have a more singular appearance than it is possible for
us to describe."[23]
By means of this disguise, it can approach little animals, which become
its prey, such as flies, spiders, bed bugs.

Fig. 72.—Pupa of Reduvius personatus, Fig. 73.—Pupa of Reduvius personatus,
covered with its cloak of dust (magnified). denuded of its cloak of dust (magnified).

To see what a curious appearance the Reduvius presents, one should
take off its borrowed costume. Then you will observe an entirely different
animal, and one which has nothing repulsive about it. With the exception of
the hemelytra and wings, which it has not yet got, all its parts have the form
which they are to have later, after the wings are developed.
Fig. 72 represents, from Charles de Geer's Memoir, the pupa of the
Reduvius personatus covered with dust, and resembling a spider; Fig. 73 the
same insect cleaned, freed from the cloak of dust which served to disguise
it.
The Hydrometræ (from ὑδωρ, water,
and μετρειν, to measure) have linear
bodies. The head, which forms nearly the
third of the entire length, is furnished
with two long antennæ, and armed with a
thin, hair-like beak. The legs are long,
Fig. 74.—Hydrometra stagnorum.
and of equal length. The reader may have
often seen the Hydrometra stagnorum
walking by jerks on the surface of the water (Fig. 74). The body and legs
are of a ferruginous colour, the hemelytra a dull brown, and the wings
hyaline, or glassy, and slightly blackish. Geoffroy says that it resembles a
long needle, and calls it the Needle Bug.
The Hydrocorisæ, or Water Bugs, have the antennæ shorter than the
head, or scarcely attaining to its length, and inserted and hidden under the
eyes, which are in general of remarkable size. All these Hemiptera are

aquatic and carnivorous. We will mention the two principal types, the
Nepæ, or Water Scorpions, and the Notonectæ, or Boatmen.
The Nepa cinerea (Fig. 75), which Geoffroy calls the
Oval-bodied Water Scorpion, and which he also
designates by the name of the Water Spider, is very
common in the stagnant waters of ponds and ditches. Its
body, oval, very flat, of an ashy colour, with red on the
abdomen, is four-fifths of an inch long. The hemelytra
are horizontal, coriaceous, and of a dirty grey colour. Its
front legs, with short haunches, and very broad thighs,
are terminated by strong pincers, which give to the
insect a strong resemblance to the scorpion. It is by
folding back the leg and the tarsus under the thigh, that
the animal holds its prey, and sucks it with its rostrum or
beak. Fig. 75.—Nepa
cinerea.
This rostrum is composed of three joints, and
contains four pointed bristles. Two present on one side a
sort of narrow sharp blade, and have teeth towards their base. Of the two
others, the one is a thin smooth needle, the other is provided with hairs
directed backwards and forwards.
It is with this rostrum, which resembles a case of surgical instruments,
that the Nepa pierces and sucks little aquatic insects, not even sparing its
own species. Its wound is painful to man, but not in the least dangerous.
With its four hind legs the Nepa swims, but at a very slow pace. It generally
drags itself along the bottom of the water, on the mud, and does not avoid
the hand put out to seize it. Its body is terminated by a tail, composed of
two grooved threads, which, when applied together, form a tube, capable of
being moved from side to side. Through this canal it breathes the outer air;
it puts the end of it out of the water, and the air enters it by inspiration.
Some very small hairs, with which the interiors of the grooves are lined,
interlace each other, and prevent the water from penetrating into the canal.
It is probable that this same canal serves also for depositing the eggs. These
last resemble small seeds, covered with points, and are buried in the stalks
of aquatic plants.

Next to the Nepa comes the Ranatra, with a cylindrical, elongated,
linear body, with very long and very thin hind legs, and of which one
species, which Geoffroy calls the "aquatic scorpion with an elongated
body," is common everywhere in stagnant waters in spring. It is brownish,
carnivorous, and very voracious.
We must now mention the genus Corixa,
of which one species, the Corixa striata, is
very common. This insect walks badly and
slowly on land, but swims and cuts through the
water with a prodigious rapidity.
However, it is not to delay over this last
species that we have here mentioned the name
of this genus. Some insects which belong to it,
and which are found in Mexico, deserve to be
Fig. 76.—Corixa striata. alluded to, on account of certain peculiarities
which their eggs present. A naturalist, M.
Virlet d'Aoust, has published the following details on this subject:—
"Thousands of small amphibious flies," he says, "flit about in the air on
the surface of lakes, and diving down into the water many feet, and even
many fathoms, go to the bottom to lay their eggs, and only emerge from the
water probably to die close by. We were fortunate enough to be present at a
great fishing or harvest of the eggs, which, under the Mexican name of
hautle (haoutle), serve for food to the Indians, who seem to be no less fond
of them than the Chinese are of their swallows' nests, which they resemble
somewhat in taste; only the hautle is far from commanding such high prices
as the Chinese pay for their birds' nests, which for that reason are reserved
entirely for the tables of the rich; while, for a few small coins, we were able
to carry away with us about a bushel of the hautle, a portion of which, at
our request, Mme. B—— was kind enough to prepare for us.
"They dress these in different ways, but generally make a sort of cake,
which is served up with a sauce, to which the Mexicans give a zest, as they
do indeed to all their dishes, by adding to it chilié, which is composed of
green pimento crushed. This is how the natives proceed when they are
fishing for hautle: they form with reeds bent together a sort of fasces, which
they place vertically in the lake at some distance from the bank, and as

these are bound together by one of the reeds, the ends of which are so
arranged as to form an indicating buoy, it is easy to draw them out at will.
Twelve to fifteen days suffice for each reed in these fasces to be entirely
covered with eggs, which they thus fish up by millions. The former are then
left to dry in the sun, on a cloth, for an hour or more; the grains are then
easily detached. After this operation, they are replaced in the water for the
next hautle harvest."
M. Virlet had attributed to flies the eggs of which we have been
speaking. But in 1851 M. Guérin-Méneville having received, transmitted to
him by M. Ghiliani, eggs of which hautle is made, and some of the insects
said to produce them, stated that the latter belonged to two different species.
The one had been known a long time since under the name of Corixa
mercenaria; M. Guérin-Méneville called the other Corixa femorata.
The same entomologist discovered, among the eggs of these two
species, other eggs of a more considerable size, and which he attributed to a
new species of the genus Notonecta, about which we are now going to say a
few words.
The Notonecta glauca, which Geoffroy calls the Large Bug with Oars
("Grande punaise à avirons"), is very common in ditches, reservoirs, and
stagnant waters. Its body is oblong, narrow, contracted posteriorly, convex
above, flat below, having, at its sides and its extremities, hairs which, when
spread out, support the animal on the water. Its head is large and of a
slightly greenish grey, and has on each of its sides a very large eye of a pale
brown colour. Its thorax is greyish, the hemelytra of a greenish grey, the
membranous wings white. Of its legs, the front four are short; but the hind
legs, almost twice as long, are furnished with long hairs, and resemble oars.
It is with the aid of these that the animal moves through the water; and it
does so in a singular manner, placing itself on its back, and generally in an
inclined position, as in Fig. 77.
When this insect, on the contrary, drags itself along on the mud, the
front legs are those which it employs, the hind legs being idle, and merely
drawn along behind it. It is generally towards the evening or during the
night that it comes out of the water, to walk and to fly, if it wishes to pass
from one marsh to another.

This bloodthirsty insect lives
entirely by rapine; it is one of the most
carnivorous of insects. Those which it
attacks die very soon after they have
been hurt by it. De Geer thinks that the
water bug drops into the wound a
poisonous humour. It seizes upon
insects much bigger, and apparently
Fig. 77.—Notonecta glauca.
much stronger, than itself, and does not
spare its own species.
The instrument with which the Notonecta attacks its prey is composed
of a very strong and very long conical beak, formed of four joints. The
sucker is composed of an upper piece, short and pointed, and of four fine
pointed hairs.
The female of the Notonecta glauca lays a great number of eggs, white,
and of elongated shape, which it deposits on the stems and leaves of aquatic
plants. The eggs are hatched at the beginning of spring, or in May, and the
young ones at once begin to swim about like their mother, on their backs,
belly upwards. M. Léon Dufour says on this subject:—
"A dorsal region, raised like a donkey's back, or like the rounded keel of
a boat, and covered with a velvety substance, which renders it impermeable,
numerous fine fringes which garnish either the hind legs, or the borders of
the abdomen and thorax, or lastly in a double row form a crest or comb
running down the surface of the belly, and which spread themselves out or
fold themselves in at the will of the insect, just like fins, favour both this
supine attitude and the accuracy of the swimming movements of the
Notonectæ. Since Nature—which seems often to delight in producing
extraordinary exceptions to her ordinary rules, thus bearing witness to the
immensity of her resources—had condemned this animal to pass its life in
an inverted position, it was necessary, for the maintenance of its existence,
that it should provide it with an organisation in harmony with this attitude.
It is also for this object that its head is bent over its chest; that its eyes, of an
oval shape, can see below from above; that the front as well as the middle
legs, agile and curved, solely destined for prehension, can to a certain extent
become unbent by means of the elongated haunches which fix them to the

body, and clutch firm hold of their prey with the strong claws which
terminate the tarsi."

Homoptera.
We come now to the second group of the order Hemiptera, namely,
Homoptera.
The insects which compose this division are numerous. They may be
arranged into three great families, of the most remarkable members of
which we shall give some account. These are the Cicadæ, the Aphidæ or
Plant Lice, and the Coccidæ.
The Cicada is the type of the first of these families. It has a deafening
and monotonous song; as Bilboquet says, in the "Saltimbanques," "those
who like that note have enough of it for their money." Virgil pronounced a
just criticism on the song of the Cicada: he saw in it nothing better than a
hoarse and disagreeable sound:—
"At mecum raucis, tua dum vestigia lustro,
Sole sub ardenti resonant arbusta cicadis,"
says the Latin poet in his "Eclogues," and repeats the same opinion in a
verse in his "Georgics:"—
"Et cantu querulæ rumpent arbusta cicadæ."
The song of the Cicada, so sharp, so discordant, was, however, the
delight of the Greeks.
Listen to Plato in the first lines of "Phædo:" "By Hera," cries the
philosopher-poet, "what a charming place for repose!... It might well be
consecrated to some nymphs and to the river Achelöu, to judge by these
figures and statues. Taste a little the good air one breathes. How charming,
how sweet! One hears as a summer noise an harmonious murmur
accompanying the chorus of the Cicada."
The Greeks, then, had quite a peculiar taste for the song of the Cicada.
They liked to hear its screeching notes, sharp as a point of steel. To enjoy it
quite at their ease they shut them up in open wicker-work cages, pretty
much in the same way as children shut up the cricket, so as to hear its
joyous cri-cri. They carried their love for this insect with the screaming

voice so far as to make it the symbol of music. We see, in drawings
emblematical of the musical art, a Cicada resting on strings of a cythera. A
Grecian legend relates that one day two cythera players, Eunomos and
Aristo, contending on this sonorous instrument, one of the strings of the
former's cythera having broken, a Cicada settled on it, and sang so well in
place of the broken cord, that Eunomos gained the victory, thanks to this
unexpected assistant. Anacreon composed an ode in honour of the Cicada.
"Happy Cicada, that on the highest branches of the trees, having drank a
little dew, singest like a queen! Thy realm is all thou seest in the fields, all
which grows in the forests. Thou art beloved by the labourer; no one harms
thee; the mortals respect thee as the sweet harbinger of summer. Thou art
cherished by the muses, cherished by Phœbus himself, who has given thee
thy harmonious song. Old age does not oppress thee. O good little animal,
sprung from the bosom of the earth, loving song, free from suffering, that
hast neither blood nor flesh, what is there prevents thee from being a god?"
It was in virtue of the false ideas of the Greeks on natural history in
general, and on the Cicada in particular, that this little animal symbolised,
among the Athenians, nobility of race. They imagined that the Cicada was
formed at the expense of the earth, and in its bosom, on which account
those who pretended to an ancient and high origin, wore in their hair a
golden Cicada. The Locrians had on their coins the image of a Cicada. This
is the origin which fable assigns to the custom:—
The bank of the river upon which Locris was built was covered with
screeching legions of Cicadas; whereas they were never heard (so says the
legend) on the opposite bank, on which stood the town Rhegium. In
explanation of this circumstance, they pretend that Hercules, wishing one
day to sleep on this bank, was so tormented by the "sweet eloquence" of the
Cicadas, that, furious at their concert, he asked of the gods that they should
never sing there for evermore, and his prayer was immediately granted!
This is why the Locrians adopted the Cicada as the arms of their city.
The Greeks did not only delight, as poets and musicians, in the song of
the Cicada; they were not content with addressing to it poems, with adoring
it, and striking medals bearing its image; obedient to their grosser appetites,
they ate it. They thus satisfied at the same time both the mind, the spirit, and
the body.

The Cicadas are easily to be recognised by their
heavy, very robust, and rather thick-set bodies, by their
broad head, unprolonged, having very large and
prominent ocelli, or simple eyes, three in number,
arranged in a triangle on the top of the forehead, and
short antennæ. The immature anterior and posterior
wings have the shape of a sheath, or case, enveloping the
body when the insect is at rest; these are transparent and
destitute of colour, or sometimes adorned with bright
and varied hues. The legs are not in the least suited for
jumping. The female is provided with an auger, with
which she makes holes in the bark of trees in which to
lay her eggs. The male (Fig. 78) is provided with an
organ, not of song, but of stridulation or screeching, Fig. 78.—Cicada
which is very rudimentary in the female. We will stop a (Male).
moment to consider the apparatus for producing the
song, or rather the noise, of the male Cicada, and the
structure of the female's auger. We are indebted to Réaumur for the
discovery of the mechanism by the aid of which the Cicada produces the
sharp noise which announces its whereabouts from afar. We will give a
summary of the celebrated Memoir in which the French naturalist has so
admirably described the musical apparatus of the Cicada. [24]
It is not in the throat that the Cicada's organ of sound is placed, but on
the abdomen. On examining the abdomen of the male of a large species of
Cicada, one remarks on it two horny plates, of pretty good size, which are
not found on the females. Each plate has one side straight; the rest of its
outline is rounded. It is by the side which is rectilinear that the plate is fixed
immediately underneath the third pair of legs. It can be slightly raised, with
an effort, by two spine-like processes, each of which presses upon one of
the plates, and when it is raised, prevents it from being raised too much, and
causes it to fall back again immediately.
If the two plates are removed and turned over on the thorax, and the
parts which they hide laid bare, one is struck by the appearance which is
presented. "One cannot doubt that all one sees has been made to enable the
Cicada to sing," says Réaumur. "When one compares the parts which have
been arranged so that it may be able to sing, as we may say, from its belly,

with the organs of our throat, one finds that ours have not been made with
more care than those by means of which the Cicada gives forth sounds
which are not always agreeable."
We here perceive a cavity in the anterior portion of the abdomen and
which is divided into two principal cells by a horny triangle.
"The bottom of each cell offers to children who catch the Cicada a
spectacle which amuses them, and which may be admired by men who
know how to make the best use of their reason. The children think they see
a little mirror of the thinnest and most transparent glass, or that a little blade
of the most beautiful talc is set in the bottom of each of these little cells.
That which one might see if this were the case would in no way differ from
what one actually sees; the membrane which is stretched out at the bottom
of the cells does not yield in transparency either to glass or to talc; and if
one looks at it obliquely, one sees in it all the beautiful colours of the
rainbow. It seems as if the Cicada has two glazed windows through which
one can see into the interior of its body."
The horny triangle of which we spoke above only separates in two the
lower part of the cavity. The upper part is filled by a white, thin, but strong
membrane. This membrane is only drawn tight when the body of the Cicada
is raised. But with all this, where is the organ of song? What parts produce
the sound? Réaumur will enlighten us on this point.
He opened the back of a Cicada, and laid bare the portion of the interior
which corresponds with the cavity where the mirrors are, and was
immediately struck with the size of the two muscles which meet and are
attached to the back of the horny triangle, and to that one of its angles from
which start the sides which form the cavities in which are both the mirrors.
"Muscles of such strength, placed in the belly of the Cicada, and in that
part of the belly in which they are found, seem to be only so placed in order
that they may move quickly backwards and forwards those parts which,
being set in motion, produce the noise or song. And indeed, whilst I was
examining one of these muscles, in moving it about gently with a pin,
slightly displacing it, and then letting it return to its proper place, it so
happened that I made a Cicada that had been dead for many months sing.
The song, as might be expected, was not loud; but it was strong enough to
lead me on to the discovery of the part to which it was due. I had only to

follow the muscle I had been moving, to search for the part on which it
abutted."
In the large cavity, in which are the mirrors and the
other parts mentioned above, there are besides two
equal and similar compartments, two cells, in which are
placed the instrument of sound. This is a membrane in
the shape of a kettledrum, not smooth, but, on the
contrary, crumpled and full of wrinkles (Fig. 79). When
it is touched it is more sonorous than the driest
parchment. If the furrows on its convex surface are
rubbed with a small body, such as a piece of rolled-up
paper, incapable of piercing or tearing it, it is easily
made to sound; and the sound is occasioned by the
Fig. 79.
portions of the kettledrum which are depressed by the
Musical Apparatus of
friction of the small body, returning to their former
the
position as soon as it has ceased to act upon them. It is
Male Cicada.
here that the two strong muscles act whose existence
and use were discovered by Réaumur.
"It is clear," says this naturalist, "that when the muscle is alternately
contracted and expanded with rapidity, one convex portion of the
kettledrum will be rendered concave, and will then resume its convex form
by the force of its own spring. Then this noise will be made, this song of
which we have been so long seeking an explanation, because we wished to
find out all the parts by means of which He, who never makes anything
without its use, willed that it should be produced."
Let us add, to complete what we have already said on this subject, that
if the kettledrums are the essential organs of the insect's song, the mirrors,
the white and wrinkled membranes, and the exterior shutters which cover in
the whole apparatus, contribute largely, as Réaumur pointed out, to modify
and strengthen the sound.
We have said above that the female Cicada does not sing; and so her
singing organs are quite rudimentary. This fact, moreover, has been known
for ages. Xenarchus, a poet of Rhodes, says, with little gallantry:—
"Happy Cicadas! thy females are deprived of voice!"

Nature has indemnified the female
Cicada for this privation, by giving her
an instrument less noisy indeed, but
more useful. This is a sort of auger,
destined to penetrate the bark of the
branches of trees, and lodged in the last
segment of the abdomen, which, for
this purpose, is hollowed out groove-
wise. By the aid of a system of muscles
the auger can be protruded or retracted
at pleasure. It is furnished with three
implements. In the middle there is a
piercer, or bodkin, which when run into
a branch supports the insect, and two
stylets, whose upper edges, having
teeth like a saw, resting back to back,
on the middle implement, move up and
down it. With this admirable
instrument the female Cicada incises
obliquely the bark and wood until she
has almost reached the pith (Fig. 80).
The male sings while she is at work.
When the cell is sufficiently deep and
Fig. 80.—Female Cicada laying her eggs properly prepared, the female lays at
in the groove she has bored in the branch the bottom of it from five to eight eggs.
of a tree.
From these eggs come very small
white grubs (Fig. 81), which leave their
nest, descend by the trunk, and bury themselves in the ground, where they
devour the roots of the tree. They then become pupæ, and hollowing out the
earth with their front legs, which are very much developed, continue to live
at the expense of the roots. At the end of spring these pupæ (Fig. 82) come
out of the earth, hook themselves on to the trunks of trees, and strip
themselves one fine evening of their skin, which remains whole and dried.
Very weak at first, these metamorphosed insects drag themselves along with
difficulty. But next day, warmed by the first rays of the sun, having had, no
doubt, time to reflect on their new social position, and less astonished than
they were on the preceding evening, they agitate their wings, they fly, and

the males send forth into the air the first notes of their screeching concert.
The Cicadas remain on trees, whose sap they suck by means of their sharp-
pointed beak. It is difficult enough to catch them, for owing to their large,
highly-developed wings, they fly rapidly away on the slightest noise.
They inhabit the south of Europe, the whole of Africa from north to
south, America in the same latitudes as Europe, the whole of the centre and
south of Asia, New Holland, and the islands of Oceania. The Cicada, which
in hot climates always exposes itself to the ardour of the most scorching
sun, is not found in temperate or cold regions. The consequence is that the
southern nations know it very well, whilst in the north the large
grasshopper, which is so common in those regions, and whose song closely
resembles that of the Cicada, is commonly taken for it. There was to be seen
at the Exhibition of Fine Arts in 1866 a picture by M. Aussandon, "La
Cigale et la Fourmi," which showed, under an allegorical shape, the subject
of La Fontaine's fable. The painter here represented the Cigale, or Cicada,
under the form of a magnificent apple-green grasshopper. The artist
materialised here, as we may say, the common mistake of the inhabitants of
the north, which makes them confound the Cicada with the great green
grasshopper.

Fig. 81.—Larva of the Cicada. Fig. 82.—Pupa of the Cicada.

For the rest, we may, by-the-by, say that La Fontaine's fable of "La
Cigale et la Fourmi" is full of errors in natural history. Nothing is easier
than to prove the truth of this assertion. From the very first verses, the
author shows that he has never observed the animal of which he speaks.
"La Cigale ayant chanté
Tout l'été."
No Cicada could sing "tout l'été," since it lives at the utmost for a few
weeks only.
"Se trouva fort dépourvue
Quand la bise fut venue."

"Quand la bise fut venue" means without doubt the month of November
or December. But at this season of the year the Cicada has a long time since
passed from life to death. When one wanders along the outskirts of woods
as early as the month of October, in the south of France, one finds the soil
covered with dead Cicadas. La Fontaine's Cigale then could not have found
itself "fort dépourvue," for the simple reason that it was already dead.
"Elle alla crier famine
Chez la Fourmi, sa voisine,
La priant de lui preter
Quelque grain pour subsister."
The ant is carnivorous, and although it likes honey, it has nothing to do
with grains of wheat, nor with any other grain, of which, according to the
fabulist, it had laid up a stock. On the other hand, the Cicada, which he
blames for having
"Pas un seul petit morceau
De mouche ou de vermisseau,"
never dreamt of such victuals, for it lives entirely on the sap of large
vegetables. The fables of the poet, who is called in France, one never knows
why, "Le bon La Fontaine," teem with errors of the same kind as those we
have just pointed out. The habits of animals are nearly always represented
as exactly the contrary to what they really are. To initiate himself into the
mysteries of the habits of animals, La Fontaine certainly had neither the
works of Buffon nor the memoirs of Réaumur, which had not then been
written; but had he not the book of Nature?
But it is time to mention the principal species of the Cicada. We will
describe two: that of the Ash, which lives on those trees in the south of
France; and that of the Manna Ash, which is very common in the south-east
of France. It is particularly plentiful in the forests of pines which abound
between Bayonne and Bordeaux. It is on these two species of Cicada that
Réaumur made the beautiful observations of which we gave a summary
above.
The Cicada plebeia or Tettigonia fraxini, very common in Provence, is
found, though rarely, in the forest of Fontainebleau, occasionally in La Brie.

It is of a grey yellow below, black above; the head and thorax are marked or
striped with black.
M. Solier, in a Memoir inserted in the "Annales de la Société
Entomologique de France," says that its song, very loud and very piercing,
seems to consist of one single note, repeated with rapidity, which insensibly
grows weaker after a certain time, and terminates in a kind of whistle,
which can be partly imitated by pronouncing the two consonants st, and
which resembles the noise of the air coming out of a little opening in a
compressed bladder. When the Cicada sings, it moves its abdomen
violently, in such a manner as alternately to move it away from, and to
bring it near to, the little covers of the sonorous cavities; to this movement
is added a slight trembling of the mesothorax.
The same entomologist relates a very interesting observation made on
this species of Cicada by his friend, M. Boyer, a chemist at Aix, and which
he himself verified. The Cicadas, in general, are very timid, and fly away at
the least noise. However, when a Cicada is singing, one can approach it,
whistling the while in a quavering manner, and imitating as nearly as
possible, its cry, but in such a manner as to predominate over it. The insect
then descends a small space down the tree, as if to approach the whistler;
then it stops. But if one presents a stick to it, continuing to whistle, the
Cicada settles on it and begins again to descend backwards. From time to
time it stops, as if to listen. At last, attracted, and, as it were, fascinated by
the harmony of the whistle, it comes to the observer himself.
M. Boyer managed thus to make a Cicada, which continued to sing as
long as he whistled in harmony with it, settle on his nose. Charmed by this
concert, the insect seemed to have lost its natural timidity.
The Cicada orni is of a greenish yellow, spotted with black. The
abdomen is encircled by the same colours. The elytra and the wings are
hyaline, or glassy, and their veins alternately yellow and brown. The legs
are yellow throughout. The song of this species is hoarse, and cannot be
heard at any great distance.
M. Solier, in the work we quoted just now, says that the song of this
Cicada is of a deeper intonation, but that it is quick and is sooner over. It
does not terminate in the manner which characterises that of the other
species.

Next the genus Cicada comes Fulgora, whose type is the Fulgora
lanternaria, or Lantern Fly (Fig. 83).
Belonging to South America, these insects are above all remarkable and
easy to recognise, by their very large elongated head, which nearly equals
three-quarters of the rest of the body. This prolongation is horizontal,
vesiculous, enlarged to about the same breadth as the head, and presents
above a very great gibbosity. The antennæ are short, with a globular second
articulation, and a small terminal hair. The species represented in Fig. 83 is
yellow varied with black. The elytra are of a greenish yellow, sprinkled with
black; the wings, of the same colour, have at the extremity a large spot
resembling an eye, which is surrounded by a brown circle very broad in
front. It inhabits Guyana. This remarkable insect enjoys a great renown with
the vulgar, by a peculiarity which might be called its speciality—the
property of shining by night or in the dark. Hence its name of Fulgora
lanternaria.

Fig. 83.—Lantern Fly (Fulgora lanternaria).

The knowledge of the Fulgora lanternaria has been spread and
popularised in Europe by a celebrated book, which has for its title,
"Métamorphoses des Insectes de Surinam." This book, which contains the
result of patient study of the natural history of Dutch Guyana (Government

of Surinam), was written and published in three languages, by a woman
whose name this work has rendered immortal—Mlle. Sybille de Mérian—
and who won the admiration and respect of her contemporaries by her love
of the beauties of Nature, and her perseverance in making them known and
admired. Sybille de Mérian was born at Bâle. Daughter, sister, and mother
of celebrated engravers, herself an excellent flower-painter, she had worked
a long time at Frankfort and at Nuremburg; and had read with the greatest
attention the "Théologie des Insectes," [25] and with admiration
Malpighi'sbook on the silkworm. Full of enthusiasm for the study ofnatural
history, she left Germany, to visit the magnificent collectionof plants which
were kept in the hot-houses of Holland, and madeadmirable reproductions
of them with her pencil.
This attentive study of the vegetable world suggested to her the idea,
which soon became an ardent desire, of observing these marvels of Nature
in those parts of the globe in which they display themselves with the
greatest magnificence and splendour. At the age of fifty-four, Sybille de
Mérian set out for equatorial America. From the very first days of her
arrival she hazarded her life, sometimes without a guide, in the swampy
plains or burning valleys of Guyana. During the two years she sojourned in
those dangerous parts, she made a large collection of drawings and
paintings, which were destined to inaugurate in Europe the introduction of
art into natural history.
In the plates to her work, Sybille de Mérian represents always the
insects she wishes to describe under its three forms of larva, pupa, and
perfect insect. With this drawing she gives another of the plants which
serves the insect for food, as also of the animals which prey on it. Each
plate is a little drama. Near the insect is seen the greedy lizard opening its
dreadful mouth, or the ferocious spider watching for it. The short life of
insects is shown here in its entirety, with its continual struggles, its infinite
artifices, its rapid end, and all the episodes of its existence, for which life,
as in the case of the moral man, is but a long and painful struggle.
Such was the work, such was the noble devotion and the worthy career
of Sybille de Mérian. Let women, let young girls, who are martyrs to the
ennui of a life devoid of occupation, peruse her beautiful books, and learn
from it how much a woman may do with the time which is now either
utterly unoccupied or only devoted to useless employments. To study

Nature in any of its phases ought, it seems to us, to give more satisfaction to
the soul, more strength to the mind, and cause more admiration of and
gratitude to the supreme Author of Nature than doing a little embroidery.
It is, as we have already said, in the work of Sybille de Mérian,
"Métamorphoses des Insectes de Surinam," that one finds mentioned, for
the first time, the luminous properties of the Fulgora lanternaria. The
author thus relates her observations, which were the result of chance:—
"Some Indians having one day brought me a great number of the
Lantern Flies, I shut them up in a large box, not knowing then that they
gave light at night. Hearing a noise, I sprang out of bed and had a candle
brought. I very soon discovered that the noise proceeded from the box,
which I hurriedly opened; but, alarmed at seeing emerging from it a flame,
or, to speak more correctly, as many flames as there were insects, I at first
let it fall. Having recovered from my astonishment, or rather from my
fright, I caught all my insects again, and admired this singular property of
theirs."
Since the time when Mlle. de Mérian visited Guyana, different travellers
have said that they could not observe, as she did, this phosphorescent
phenomenon. It is, then, probable that this property only exists in the male
or female insect, and then only at certain seasons.
What a marvellous spectacle must the rich valleys of Guyana present,
when, in the stillness of the night, the air is filled with living torches; when,
the Fulgoræ flying about in space, the flashes of fire cross each other, go
out and blaze up again, shine brightly and then die out, and present, on a
calm evening, the appearance of those lightning flashes which are usually
seen only in the midst of a tempest!
Let us now go on to another interesting insect of the order of which we
are treating, the Aphrophora, without being frightened by its disagreeable
name, for there are many other names we may give it if we choose among
those by which it is popularly known. In the months of June and July one
sees on nearly every tree, and on plants of the most different kinds, a sort of
white froth, composed of air bubbles, deposited on the leaves and branches.
It is produced by an insect which the peasants in France call Crachat de
Coucou, or Ecume printanière (spring froth), and which is called in
England, Cuckoo's spittle. De Geer carefully studied the metamorphoses of

this insect. The Aphrophora (from αφρος, foam, and φερω, I bear or carry)
is lodged in the froth of which we have just been speaking. It lives in it,
only leaving it when it has its wings. De Geer wondered why this insect
confines itself during the whole of its life in liquid, and concludes that the
froth has the effect of protecting the insect from the burning heat of the sun.
This covering seems also to pro tect it from the attacks of carnivorous
insects and spiders. On the other hand, its skin is without doubt so
constituted that it would perspire too freely if it were exposed to the air, and
the insect would very soon die dried up. Whatever explanation may be
given of the necessity for this semi-aërial, semi-liquid medium, it is easy to
verify the fact that the larva of the Aphrophora cannot live long out of its
frothy envelope. If withdrawn from it, the volume of its body diminishes
perceptibly, and the poor animal dies, like a fish taken out of its natural
element.
The insects which live in this froth are six-legged grubs
(Fig. 84), which, when the froth is cleared from them, walk
quickly enough on the stalks and leaves of plants. They are
green, with the belly yellow.
De Geer wished to know how they produced this singular
froth, and found out in the following manner:—He took one of
them out of its frothy dwelling, wiped it dry with a camel's- Fig. 84.
hair pencil, and placed it on a young stalk, recently cut from Larva of the
the honeysuckle, which he put into water in a glass, in order to Aphrophora
preserve its freshness, and this is what he observed:— (Aphrophora
"It begins," says the Swedish naturalist, "by fixing itself on spumaria).
a certain part of the stalk, in which it inserts the end of its
trunk, and remains thus for a long time in the same attitude, occupied in
sucking and filling itself with the sap. Having then withdrawn its trunk, it
remains there, or else places itself on a leaf, where, after different reiterated
movements of its abdomen, which it raises or lowers and turns on all sides,
one may see coming out of the hinder part of its body a little ball of liquid,
which it causes to slip along, bending it under its body. Beginning the same
movements again, it is not long in producing a second globule of liquid,
filled with air like the first, which it places side by side with, and close to,
the preceding one, and continues the same operation as long as there
remains any sap in its body. It is very soon covered with a number of small

globules, which, coming out of its body one after the other, tend towards the
front part, aided in this by the movement of the abdomen. It is all these
globules collected together which form a white and extremely fine froth
whose viscosity keeps the air shut up in the globules, and prevents its froth
from easily evaporating. If the sap which the larva has drawn from the plant
is exhausted before it feels itself sufficiently covered with froth, it begins to
suck afresh, until it has got a new and sufficient quantity of froth, which it
takes care to add to its first stock."[26]
It is in the froth that the larvæ change into pupæ, and they do not leave
their habitation to undergo their final metamorphosis. They have then, says
De Geer, the art of causing the froth inside to evaporate and dry up, in such
a manner as to form a space inside the mass of froth, in which their bodies
are entirely free. The exterior froth forms a roof closed in on all sides, under
which the insect lies quite dry.
In this vaulted cell the pupa disengages itself little by little from its skin,
which first splits up along the head, and then on the thorax. This opening is
sufficiently large to enable it to come out of its envelope. It is in the month
of September that these insects are particularly abundant, and then the trees
and plants are covered with them. Sometimes the froth drips off, like a sort
of small rain, from branches which are covered with it. Towards the autumn
the females are pregnant. They are then so heavy that they can hardly jump
or fly. The males, on the contrary, make prodigious bounds; they throw
themselves forward to a distance of more than two yards. They are very
difficult to catch, and still more difficult to find again when one has once let
them escape. And so Swammerdam calls these insects Sauterelles-Puces
(Flea-Grasshoppers), because they jump like fleas.
All that we have said relates to the Aphrophora
spumaria, or Froghopper (Fig. 85), an insect common
all over Europe, and which Geoffroy calls the Cigale
bedeaude.
Fig. 85.—The "It is of a brown colour," says Geoffroy, "often
Froghopper rather greenish. Its head, its thorax, and its elytra, are
(Aphrophora finely dotted; on these last one sees two white oblong
spumaria).
spots. The lower part of the insect is light brown." [27]

We will mention, as it belongs to the group with which we are now
occupied, a noxious insect, Iassus devastans, which since 1844 seems to
have taken up its quarters in the commune of Saint Paul, in the department
of the Basses-Alpes. It sucks the leaves and stalks of cereals, causing them
to wither, and may be found even in winter on young corn, but principally
in the spring. According to M. Guérin-Méneville, its head is of an ochrey
yellow, with the apex marked with black spots; the forehead yellow,
elongated, striped with black, as are the legs. The elytra are straw-coloured
and spotted with brown. The wings are transparent, and slightly blackened
at the extremities. This remarkable insect, which is not more than the
twelfth of an inch in length, jumps and flies with great ease.

Fig. 86.
1. Hypsauchenia balista. 3. Centrotus cornutus. 5. Bocydium globulare.
2. Membracis foliata. 4. Umbonia Spinosa. 6. Cyphonia furcata.

A small brownish insect, whose strange appearance struck Geoffroy, the
historian of the insects of the environs of Paris, may be seen springing over
the fern stalks and thistles, in the damp parts of most of the woods of
Europe.
Geoffroy calls this insect "le Petit Diable." "Le Petit Diable," he writes,
"is of a dark blackish-brown. Its head is flat, projecting but slightly, and, as
it were, bent downwards. Its thorax, which is rather broad, has two sharp
horns, which terminate in pretty long points on the sides. In the middle of
the thorax is a crest or comb, which, prolonged into a sort of sinuous and
crooked horn, terminates in a very sharp point, reaching to within one
quarter of the extremity of the wing-cases. These—viz., the wing-cases—
are dark, with brown veins; and the wings, shorter than their cases, are
rather transparent. The insect jumps very well, and is not readily caught."
[28]

The Petit Diable of Geoffroy is the Centrotus cornutus of modern
naturalists. This curious little insect belongs to a strange and remarkable
group, whose thorax takes the most extraordinary and most varied forms, as
may be seen in Fig. 86, which represents somewhat magnified, many of
these insects. Nearly all inhabit Guyana, the Brazils, and Florida.
We will now proceed to examine one of the most interesting groups of
insects—that of the Plant-lice. These insects have for a long time attracted
the attention of naturalists. They are so abundant that all our readers have
seen them, and there are few plants in our fields or gardens which do not
nourish some species. How often does one hesitate in gathering a rose or a
bit of honeysuckle, for fear of touching the unattractive guest of those
charming flowers!
During the whole of the summer one sees on the branches, on the
leaves, but principally on the young shoots of the rose-tree, large companies
of green plant-lice, which subsist on the sap of the tree. Some are provided
with wings (Figs. 87, 88), others are wingless (Figs. 89, 90). The last-named
are the largest, and are a line and a half long. They are entirely green,
except two parts, of which we will speak immediately. The body is oval; the
head is small, and furnished with two brown eyes. The skin is smooth, and
tightly drawn over the body. The antennæ, which are very long and slender,
almost equal the body in length. The six legs are long and slim, and the

short feet terminate in two hooks. On the upper part of the body are two
small cylindrical horns, surmounted by a small knob. The antennæ and
these horns are black.
The winged individuals are of the same size as these, but are of a dark
green colour, mixed with black. The wings are transparent, and the upper
ones are as long again as the body. The young shoots of the elder-tree, all
round their circumference for the length of from a foot to a foot and a half,
are often covered with black plant-lice, or with those of a greenish-black
colour. They are crowded one against the other, and sometimes there are
two layers of them.

Fig. 87, 88.—Winged Aphides, or Plant-lice (magnified).

If observed without moving the plant about, they appear to be tranquil
and inactive. They are, however, then absorbing from the plant the
nourishment it should have; piercing with the point of their trunks the
epidermis of the leaves or stalks, and drawing from them a nourishing
liquid.
But this occupation is confined to those which are on the plant itself.
Those which, on account of the enormous agglomeration of these insects,
walk, not on the branch, but on other plant-lice, and cannot therefore suck
the sap of the plant, are employed entirely in preserving and multiplying
their species.

Fig. 89, 90.—Wingless Aphides, or Plant-lice (magnified).

Réaumur often saw the latter, easily recognised by their great size,
giving birth to little plant-lice, which are quite alive when they leave their
mother. The young ones set off and mount or descend till they reach one
end of the crowd, and there each takes up its position, like a cardboard
capuchin (capucin de carte), in such a manner that the head is just behind
the plant-louse which precedes it. There they bury their trunks in the
vegetable tissue, and set to work to imbibe the sap.
Small as is the trunk of the plant-louse, yet when there are thousands of
those little beings fixed to the stalk or the leaves of a plant, it is evident that
it must suffer. And so the plant-louse is, in truth, one of the most terrible
enemies of our agricultural and horticultural productions, and the exact list
of the ravages which it occasions would be indeed interminable. We will
confine ourselves to a few examples. For some years the lime-tree aphis has
seriously attacked the lime-trees of the public promenades of Paris. The
peach-tree plant-louse causes the blight of the leaves of that tree. It is to
these prolific little parasites that are due, in a great number of cases, the
contortions of leaves and of the young shoots of trees of all sorts.
These insatiable depredators cause sometimes a still more remarkable
alteration. On the leaves of elms are often seen bladders round and rosy,
like little apples. On opening these bladders one finds that they are
inhabited by a species of aphis. On the black poplar galls of different kinds
grow, some from the leaf stalks, and others from the young stems. They are
rounded, oblong, horned, and twisted into a spiral. Other galls show
themselves on the leaf itself. They are all inhabited by plant-lice, differing
from those of which we have given a description above, in the extremity of
their abdomen not presenting the two remarkable horns to which we shall
have later to call the attention of the reader. The body is generally covered
with a long and thick down.
Of this genus, the species, alas! so unfortunately celebrated is the
Apple-tree Aphis (Myzoxyle mali), which attacks that tree. This insect is of
a dark russet brown, with the upper part of the abdomen covered with very
long white down. Its presence was announced for the first time in England
in 1789, and in France, in the department of the Côtes du Nord, in 1812. In
1818 it was found in Paris, in the garden of the École de Pharmacie. It had
become common in 1822 in the departments of the Seine, the Somme, and
the Aisne. In 1827 its presence in Belgium was announced.

The apple-tree aphis, according to M. Blot, can only exist on that tree.
Carried away and placed on any other, it very soon perishes. It does not
attack the blossom, the fruit, nor the leaves, but fixes itself on the lower part
of the trunk, whence it propagates itself downwards as far as the roots,
underneath the graftings, &c. It also likes to lodge in cracks of the trunk and
large branches. But it always looks out for a southern, and avoids a northern
aspect. It is not active, walks very little, and its dissemination from one
place to another can only be explained by the facility with which so small
an insect can be transported by the wind, its lightness being still more
increased by the down which covers it.
The Myzoxyle mali renders the wood knotty, dry, hard, brittle, and
brings on rapidly all the symptoms which characterise old age and decay in
attacked trees. M. Blot recommends the following means for preserving the
apple-tree from this insect: Employ for the seed-beds the pips of bitter
apples only; give to the nursery and to the plants only as much shelter as is
absolutely necessary; avoid those sites which are too low and too damp;
encourage the circulation of air, and the desiccation of the soil; surround the
foot of each apple-tree with a mixture of soot or of tobacco and fine sand.
As for the manner of freeing a tree once invaded by this insect, the most
simple plan is to rub the trunk and the branches, in order to crush the
insects, or to employ a brush or broom.
We spoke above of the reproduction of the aphis, but without entering
into any particular details; we will now touch upon this question, one of the
most interesting in natural history.
It was at the time when Réaumur was writing his immortal "Histoire des
Insectes," when Trembley was publishing his admirable researches on the
freshwater Hydra, whose wonderful vitality we have mentioned in our work
on Zoophytes and Molluscs,[29] that another naturalist astonished the
learned world by his experiments on the reproductions of plant-lice. This
naturalist, whose name will live quite as long as those of Réaumur and of
Trembley, was Charles Bonnet, of Geneva.
Charles Bonnet made the extraordinary discovery that aphides can
increase and multiply without the intervention of the sexes. An isolated
specimen can produce a series of generations of its kind. We will relate the
curious experiments of the Genevese naturalist. He placed in a flower-pot,

filled with mould, a phial full of water, and put into this phial a little branch
of spindle, having only five or six leaves, and perfectly free from any
insect. On one of these leaves he placed a plant-louse, which was born
under his own eyes, of a wingless mother. He then covered the branch with
a glass shade, whose rim fitted exactly into the top of the flower-pot.
Having taken these precautions, Charles Bonnet was perfectly certain of
being able to observe his prisoner at his ease. He could keep it under his eye
and under his hand, with more certitude and security than was the
mythological Danaë, shut up, by order of Acrisius, in a tower of bronze.
"I took care," says Charles Bonnet, "to keep a correct journal of the life
of my insect. I noted down its least movements; nothing it did seemed to me
indifferent. Not only did I observe it every day from hour to hour, beginning
generally at four or five o'clock in the morning, and only leaving off at
about nine or ten at night; but I even looked many times in the same hour,
and always with the magnifying glass, to render my observation more exact,
and to learn the most secret actions of my little lonely one. But if this
continual application cost me some trouble, and bored me not a little, in
amends I had some cause for self-applause and for having subjected myself
to all this trouble.... My plant-louse changed its skin four times: on the 23rd,
in the evening; on the 26th, at two in the afternoon; on the 29th, at seven
o'clock in the morning; and on the 31st, at about seven o'clock in the
evening.... Happily delivered from these four illnesses through which it was
obliged to pass, it at last reached that point to which, by my care, I had been
trying to bring it. It had become a perfect plant-louse. On the 1st of June, at
about seven o'clock in the evening, I saw, with great satisfaction, that it had
given birth to another; from that time I thought I ought to look upon it as a
female. From that day up to the 20th inclusive, she produced ninety-five
little ones, all alive and doing well, the greatest number of which were born
under my own eyes!" [30]
He very soon made some other experiments on the aphis of the elder-
tree, so as to assure himself if the generations of plant-lice, reared
successively in solitude, preserved the same property of procreating without
copulation.
"On the 12th of July," says he, "about three o'clock in the afternoon, I
shut up a plant-louse that had just been born under my eyes. On the 20th of
the same month, at six o'clock in the morning, it had already produced three

little ones. But I waited till the 22nd towards noon before I shut up a plant-
louse of the second generation, because I could not manage earlier to be
present at the birth of one of those produced by the mother I had
condemned to live in solitude. I always continued to observe the same
precaution. I shut up only those plant-lice which were born under my very
eyes. A third generation began on the 1st of August; it was on this day that
the plant-louse I had shut up on the 22nd of July gave birth to this
generation. On the 4th of August, about one o'clock in the afternoon, I put
into solitary confinement a plant-louse of the third generation. On the ninth
of the same month, at six in the evening, a fourth generation, due to this last
one, had already seen the light: it had given birth to four little ones. On the
same day, towards midnight, all intercourse with its own species was
forbidden to the plant-louse of the fourth generation born at that hour. On
the 18th, between six and seven o'clock in the morning, I found this last in
the company of four little ones to which it had given birth."[31]
In this case, the want of food caused the death of the isolated individual
of the fifth generation, and the experiment was brought to a close.
Bonnet then tried experiments on the plantain aphis, following them up
during five consecutive generations, which succeeded each other without
interruption, in the space of three months.
After having stated the extraordinary facts, which he relates with the
most perfect simplicity, Charles Bonnet, examining at the end of the fine
season specimens of the winged oak-tree aphis, was able to be present at
their nuptials. He preserved the females with great care, and saw, not
without profound astonishment, that they gave birth, not to small living
insects, as was the case in the first experiments, but to eggs of a reddish
colour, which were stuck fast to each other, on the stem or stalk of the plant.
A short time afterwards, this illustrious observer was able to convince
himself that the oak-tree plant-lice, whose nuptials he had witnessed in the
autumn, present the same phenomena of solitary and viviparous
propagation, already so often mentioned by him.
At last some new observations permitted him to establish beyond all
doubt the connection of these facts, in appearance so contradictory. He
discovered that, during the whole of the fine season, the plant-lice are
solitary and viviparous, but that towards the autumn these creatures return

to the ordinary course of things, and are propagated by eggs, whose
development requires the co-operation of a male and female individual.
These eggs are hatched in Spring, and produce only viviparous plant-lice. In
the autumn the males and females show themselves, and from that moment
ovipositing recommences. These curious facts, seen and published more
than a century ago, have been verified many times since. In 1866 M.
Balbiani asserted that the plant-lice are hermaphrodite, or of both sexes at
the same time, which would explain the facts observed by Charles Bonnet.
But the anatomical proofs appealed to by Balbiani in support of this idea are
far from establishing the existence of this arrangement of sexes among
them. The observations of Charles Bonnet produced profound astonishment
among naturalists, and, in this respect, 1743 may be considered as a
memorable year.
The simple statement of the few experiments which he made, and which
we have cited, has sufficed to show how rapid is the multiplication of
aphides. A single female produced generally 90 young ones; at the second
generation these 90 produce 8,100; these give a third generation, which
amounts to 729,000 insects; these, in their turn, become 65,610,000; the
fifth generation, consisting of 590,490,000, will yield a progeny of
53,142,100,000; at the seventh, we shall thus have 4,782,789,000,000; and
the eighth will give 441,461,010,000,000. This immense number increases
immeasurably when there are eleven generations in the space of a year.
Fortunately a great many carnivorous insects wage fierce war against the
plant-lice, and destroy immense numbers of them. Thus they are kept in
check, and prevented from multiplying inordinately. To show with what
prodigious abundance the reproduction of these little but formidable
parasites must go on, we will relate a fact which was made known to us by
M. Morren, Professor in the University of Liége.
The winter of 1833-34 had been extremely warm and dry; whole
months had passed without any rain. A well-known savant, Van Mons, had
foretold, as early as the 12th of May, that all the vegetables would be
devoured by plant-lice. On the 28th of September, 1834, at the moment
when the cholera had began to spread its ravages over Belgium, all of a
sudden a swarm of plant-lice showed themselves between Bruges and
Ghent. They were to be seen the next day at Ghent, hovering about in
troops, in such quantities that the daylight was obscured. Standing on the

ramparts, one could no longer distinguish the walls of the houses in the
town, so covered were they with plant-lice. The whole road from Antwerp
to Ghent was rendered black by innumerable legions of them. They
appeared everywhere quite suddenly. People were obliged to protect their
eyes with spectacles and their faces with handkerchiefs, to keep off the
painful and disagreeable tickling caused by them. The progress of these
insects was interrupted by mountains, hills, even by undulations of land of
very slight elevation, but sufficient to have an influence on the wind. M.
Morren thinks that they came from a great distance, and that they arrived in
Belgium by the sea-coast. Whatever be the explanation of the phenomenon,
it establishes sufficiently the prodigious multiplication of these little insects.
There is another trait, and without doubt the most curious in the history
of the aphides, to which we have still to call the attention of the reader: we
mean the relations which exist between them and the ants.
No one can have failed to observe ants frequenting those places where
plant-lice are gathered together in great numbers. Are ants simply friends of
the plant-lice, as thought the ancients? or have their visits some selfish
object?
Linnæus, Bonnet, and Pierre Huber thought that the ants did not pay
these visits for nothing, and that they had some object in view. But what
could they want of the plant-lice? It is to Pierre Huber we owe the solution
of this mystery. This naturalist has made the most beautiful observations on
the relations which exist between plant-lice and ants. They are detailed in a
chapter of his admirable work, entitled "Recherches sur les Mœurs des
Fourmis Indigènes."
The plant-lice have, as we have said, at the extremity of their abdomen,
two small movable horns. These are in communication with a little gland
which produces a sugary liquid. When one carefully observes plant-lice
attached to the stem of a plant, one sees a little syrup droplet oozing out of
the extremity of these tubes.
M. Morren, who has made some interesting observations on the
anatomy and generation of the aphis, says that, having shut up females in
wide-mouthed glass bottles, he saw the young, a little time after their birth,
suck the sweet juice which exudes from the little tubes at the extremity of
the mother's abdomen. This secretion seems, then, destined for the

nourishment of the young in the first moments of their existence, before
they are able to nourish themselves on vegetable juices. The saccharine
fluid produced by the mother must be, then, a sort of milk intended for the
nourishment of her young. This being settled, attend to what follows. In all
places where plant-lice are assembled in great numbers it is easy to observe
how excessively fond ants are of the sugary liquid destined for suckling the
young. But how do the ants manage to get the plant-lice to allow
themselves to be, as we may say, milked?
"It had been already noticed," says this celebrated observer, "that the
ants waited for the moment at which the plant-lice caused this precious
manna to come out of their abdomen, which they immediately seized. But I
discovered that this was the least of their talents, and that they also knew
how to manage to be served with this liquid at will. This is their secret. A
branch of a thistle was covered with brown ants and plant-lice. I observed
the latter for some time, so as to discover, if possible, the moment when
they caused this secretion to issue from their bodies; but I remarked that it
very rarely came out of its own accord, and that the plant-lice, which were
at some distance from the ants, squirted it out with a movement resembling
a kick.
"How did it happen, then, that the ants wandering about on the thistle
were nearly all remarkable for the size of their abdomens, and were
evidently full of some liquid? This I discovered by narrowly watching one
ant, whose proceedings I am going to describe minutely. I saw it at first
passing, without stopping, over some plant-lice, which did not seem in the
least disturbed by its walking over them; but it soon stopped close to one of
the smallest, which it seemed to coax with its antennæ, touching the
extremity of its abdomen very rapidly, first with one of its antennæ and then
with the other. I saw with surprise the liquid come out of the body of the
plant-louse, and the ant forthwith seize upon the droplet and convey it to its
mouth. It then brought its antennæ to bear upon another plant-louse, much
larger than the first; this one, caressed in the same manner, yielded the
nourishing fluid from its body in a much larger dose. The ant advanced and
took possession of it. It then passed to a third, which it cajoled as it had the
preceding ones, giving it many little strokes with its antennæ near the
hinder extremity of its body; the liquid came out immediately, and the ant

picked it up.... A small number of these repasts are sufficient to satisfy the
ant's appetite. (See Fig. 91.)
"It does not appear that it is out of importunity that these insects obtain
their nourishment from the plant-lice.
"The neighbourhood of ants is agreeable to plant-lice, since those which
could get out of the way of their visits, viz., the winged plant-lice, prefer to
remain amongst them, and to lavish upon them the superabundance of their
nourishment."[32]
What we have just related applies not only to the brown (Formica
brunnea), but also to the tawny ant (Formica flava), to the ashy black
(Formica nigra), to the fuliginous (Formica fuliginosa), and to a great
many more.
The Red Ant (Formica rufa) is singularly adroit in seizing the droplet
left it by the plant-louse. According to Pierre Huber, it employs its antennæ,
which swell somewhat towards their extremities, in conveying this droplet
to its mouth, and causes it to enter it by pressing it first on one side, then on
the other, using its antennæ as if they were fingers. The greater number of
ants seek them on those plants on which they usually fix themselves—the
lowest herbs, as well as the highest trees. There are some, however, which
never leave their place of abode, and never go out to the chase. These are
the little ants, of a pale yellow colour, rather transparent, and covered with
hairs, and which are extremely numerous in our meadows and orchards.
These subterranean creatures are very noxious to the farmer. Pierre Huber
often wondered how they subsisted, and with what food they could
provision themselves, without quitting their gloomy habitations. Having
one day turned up the earth of which a habitation was composed, in order to
discover if any treasure were to be found stowed away there, he found
nothing but plant-lice. Of these the greater number were fixed to the roots
of the trees which hung down from the roof of their subterranean nest;
others were wandering about among the ants. These latter, moreover, set
about milking their nurses, as usual, and with the same success. To verify
his discovery, he dug up a great number of nests of the yellow ant, and
invariably found aphides in them. So as to study the relations which must
exist between these insects, he shut up ants with their friends, the plant-lice,
in a glazed box, placing at the bottom of the box, earth, mixed with the

roots of some plants, whose branches vegetated outside the box. He watered
this ant-hill from time to time, and thus both the animals and the plants
found in his apparatus sufficient nourishment.
"The ants," he says, "did not endeavour in the least to make their
escape. They seemed to want for nothing, and to be quite content. They
tended their larvæ and females with the same affection they would have
shown in their usual ant-hill; they took great care of the plant-lice, and
never did them any harm. These, on the other hand, did not seem to fear the
ants; they allowed themselves to be moved about from one place to another,
and when they were set down they remained in the place chosen for them
by their guardians. When the ants wished to move them to a fresh place,
they began by caressing them with their antennæ, as if to request them to
abandon their roots or to withdraw their trunk from the cavity in which it
was inserted; then they took them gently above or below the abdomen with
their jaws, and carried them with the same care they would have bestowed
on the larvæ of their own species. I saw the same ant take three plant-lice in
succession, each bigger than itself, and carry them away into a dark place....
However, the ants do not always act so gently towards them. When they
fear that they may be carried off by ants of another kind, and living near
their habitation, or when one opens up too suddenly the turf under which
they are hidden, they seize them up in haste and carry them off to the
bottom of their little cavern. I have seen the ants of two different ant-hills
fighting for their plant-lice. When those belonging to one ants' nest could
enter the nest of the others, they took them away from their rightful owners,
and often these took possession of them again in their turn; for the ants
know well the value of these little animals, which seem made on purpose
for them,—they are the ants' treasures. An ants' nest is more or less rich,
according as it is more or less stocked with plant-lice. The plant-lice are its
cattle, its cows, its goats. One would never have thought that the ants were a
pastoral people!"[33]
Their hiding in the ants' nest is not voluntary; they are prisoners of war.
The ants, after having hollowed out galleries in the midst of roots, make a
foray upon the turf, and seize upon plant-lice scattered about here and there,
bringing them with them, and collect them together in their nests. The
captive insects take their wrongs with patience, and behave like
philosophers under this new kind of life. They lavish on their masters, with

the best grace in the world, the nutritious juices with which their bodies
superabound. Charles Bonnet has stated some real wonders of the
cleverness and industry of other ants which also make a provision of plant-
lice.
"I discovered one day," says he, "a Euphorbia, which supported in the
middle of its stem a small sphere, to which it served as the axis. It was a
case which the ants had constructed of earth. They issued forth from this by
a very narrow opening made in its base, descended the stem, and passed
into a neighbouring ants' nest. I destroyed one part of this pavilion, built
almost in the air, so that I might study the interior. It was a little room, the
vault-shaped walls of which were smooth and even. The ants had profited
by the form of the plant to sustain their edifice. The stalk passed up the
centre of the apartment, and for its timber-work it had the leaves. This
retreat contained a numerous family of plant-lice, to which the brown ants
came peacefully, to make their harvest, sheltered from the rain, the sun, and
from other ants. No insect could disturb them; and the plant-lice were not
exposed to the attacks of their numerous enemies. I admired this trait of
industry; and I was not long in finding it again, in a more interesting
character, in ants of different species.
"Some red ants had built round the foot of a thistle a tube of earth, two
inches and a half long by one and a half broad. The ants' nest was below,
and communicated directly with the cylinder. I took the stalk, with what
surrounded it, and all that the cylinder contained. That portion of the stem
which was inside the earthen tube was covered with plant-lice. I very soon
saw the ants coming out at the opening I had made at the base; they were
very much astonished to see daylight at that place, and I saw that they lived
there with their larvæ. They carried these with great haste to the highest part
of the cylinder which had not been altered. In this retreat they were within
reach of their plant-lice, and here they fed their young.
"In other places many stalks of the Euphorbia laden with plant-lice rose
in the very centre of an ant-hill belonging to the brown ants. These insects,
profiting by the peculiar arrangement of the leaves of this plant, had
constructed round each branch as many little elongated cases; and it was
here they came to get their food. Having destroyed one of these cells, the
ants forthwith carried off into their nests their precious animals; a few days

afterwards it was repaired under my eyes by these insects, and the herd
were taken back to their pens.
"These cases are not always at a few inches from the ground. I saw one
five feet above the soil, and this one deserves also to be described. It
consisted of a blackish, rather short tube, which was built round a small
branch of the poplar at the point where it left the trunk. The ants reached it
by the interior of the tree, which was excavated, and without showing
themselves, they were able to reach their plant-lice by an opening which
they had made in the base of this branch. This tube was formed of rotten
wood, of the vegetable earth of this very tree, and I saw many a time the
ants bringing little bits in their mouths to repair the breaches I had made in
their pavilion. These are not very common traits, and are not of the number
of those which can be attributed to an habitual routine." [34]
One day, Pierre Huber discovered in a nest of yellow ants a cell
containing a mass of eggs having the appearance of ebony. They were
surrounded by a number of ants, which appeared to be guarding them, and
endeavouring to carry them off.

Fig. 91.—Aphides and Ant (magnified).

Huber took possession of the cell, its inhabitants, and of the little
treasure it contained, and placed the whole in a box lid, covered with a
piece of glass, so as to be more easily observed. He saw the ants approach
the eggs, pass their tongues in between them, depositing on them a liquid.
They seemed to treat these eggs exactly as they would have treated those of
their own species; they felt them with their antennæ, gathered them
together, raised them frequently to their mouths, and did not leave them for
an instant. They took them up, and turned them over, and after having
examined them with care, they carried them with extreme delicacy into the
little box of earth placed near them. [35]
These were not, however, ants' eggs. They were the eggs of aphides.
The young which were soon to be hatched were to give to the provident
ants a reward for the attentions they had lavished upon them. How

wonderful are the life and the habits of the plant-lice, and their relations to
ants! But we should be led on too far, if we were to pursue these attractive
details.
We pass on now to the history of another family—namely, the
Gallinsecta, as Réaumur calls them, or Cocci. They pass the greatest part of
their lives—that is to say, many months—entirely motionless, sticking to
the stalks or branches of shrubs; remaining thus as devoid of movement as
the plant to which they are attached. One would say that they were part and
parcel of it. Their form is so simple, that nothing in their exterior would
make one guess them to be insects. The larger they become the less they
resemble living things. When the coccus is in a state for multiplying its
species, when it is engaged in laying its thousands of eggs, it resembles
only an excrescence of the tree.
The Gallinsecta are found on the elm, the oak, the lime, the alder, the
holly, the orange-tree, and the oleander. Some of the species are remarkable
for the beautiful red colouring matter which they furnish. Such are the
Coccus cacti, the Chermes variegatus, or Oak Tree Cochineal, and the
Coccus polonicus.
The Common Cochineal, Coccus cacti, is found in Mexico, on the
Nopal, or prickly pear (Opuntia), particularly on the Opuntia vulgaris, the
Opuntia coccifera, and the Opuntia una, plants which belong to the family
of the Cactaceæ.
These insects are rather remarkable, in that the male and female are so
unlike, that one would take them for animals of different genera.
The male presents an elongated, depressed body, of a dark-brown red.
Its head small, furnished with two long feathery antennæ, has only a
rudimentary beak. The abdomen is terminated by two fine hairs, longer than
its body. The wings, perfectly transparent, reach beyond the extremity of its
abdomen, and cross each other horizontally over its back. It is lively and
active. The female presents quite a different appearance. It is in the first
place twice as large as the male (Fig. 92), convex above, flat below. It
resembles a larva, and has no wings. Its body is formed of a dozen
segments, covered with a glaucous dust. The beak is very fully developed,
and the two hairs or bristles on the abdomen are much shorter than in the
male.

The weight of the body, combined with the shortness
of the legs, prevents these creatures from being active.
The legs only serve, in fact, for clinging to the vegetable
from which they draw their nourishment. The
circumstances attending the birth of the cochineal insect
are very curious. The larvæ are born in the dried-up body
of their dead mother, the skeleton of their mother serving
them as a cradle. This happens thus:—The eggs are
attached to the lower part of the mother's body. When the
Fig. 92. abdomen of the mother is empty, its lower side draws up
Cochineal insects, towards the upper side, and the two together form a
(Coccus cacti) pretty large cavity. When the mother dies, which is not
male and female. long in happening, her abdomen dries up, her skin
becomes horny, and forms a sort of shell. It is in this
membranous cradle that the larvæ of the cochineal insect are born. The
cochineal insect in its wild state lives in the woods. But it can without
difficulty be reared artificially.
Every one knows that the little insect called the cochineal, furnishes,
when its body has been dried and reduced to powder, a colouring matter of
a beautiful red, peculiar to itself. This circumstance has saved the cochineal
from the persecution to which so many other kinds of insects have been
devoted by the hand of man. In hot climates, in which the cochineal insect
delights, it has been preserved, and is cultivated as an article of commerce.
This is how the cochineal is reared in Mexico:—An open piece of land is
chosen, protected against the west wind, and of about one or two acres in
extent. This is surrounded with a hedge of reeds, planted in lines, distant
from each other about a yard, with cuttings of cactus at most about two feet
apart. The cactus garden made, the next thing is to establish in it cochineals.
With this object in view they are sought in the woods, or else the females of
the cochineal insect which are pregnant are taken off plants which have
been sheltered during the winter, and placed in dozens, in nests made of
cocoa-nut fibres, or in little plaited baskets made of the leaves of the dwarf
palm, and hung on the prickles of the cactus. These are very soon covered
with young larvæ. The only thing now required to be done is to shelter them
from wind and rain. (Plate IV.)

IV. Gathering Cochineal in Algeria.

The larvæ are changed into perfect insects, which take up their abode
permanently on the branches of the cacti, as Fig. 93 represents. The
Mexicans gather them as soon as they have reached the perfect state. The
harvest cannot be difficult, considering the immobility of these little
creatures. When collected, the cochineals are killed, packed in wooden
boxes, and sent to Europe, to be used in dyeing.
Such is the method, very simple, as we see, of rearing the cochineal—a
method which has been followed for centuries in Mexico. Towards the end
of the year 1700, a Frenchman named Thierry de Menouville, formed the
project of taking this precious insect away from the Spaniards, and of
bestowing it upon the French colonies. He landed in Mexico, and concealed
so well the object of his voyage, that he managed to embark and carry to St.
Domingo several cases containing plants covered with living cochineals.
Unfortunately, a revolution which had broken out at St. Domingo prevented

him from succeeding in his praiseworthy endeavours. The cochineals died,
and the Spaniards preserved their monopoly in the rearing of this insect.
In 1806 M. Souceylier, a surgeon in the French navy, succeeded in
bringing from Mexico into Europe some live cochineals. He gave them to
the professor of botany at Toulon; but this attempt to preserve them was
unsuccessful.
In 1827 the naturalisation of the cochineal was attempted in Corsica, but
without success. During the same year the cochineal was introduced into
the Canary Islands, but the inhabitants did not understand the importance of
the experiment. They counted the cochineal among the number of noxious
insects, and tried in all ways to rid themselves of it. It was only after results
obtained by some more intelligent farmers, that the inhabitants of the
Canary Islands perceived the profits they might derive. From that time its
cultivation was extended, and after the year 1831 it increased rapidly. Thus,
the cochineal imported from the Canary Isles in that year amounted to only
4 kilogrammes. In 1832 the amount was 60 kilogrammes, in 1833 it was
660 kilogrammes, in 1838, 9,000 kilogrammes, and in 1850, 400,000
kilogrammes. The French colonists in Algeria also tried to raise it. In 1831,
M. Limonnet, a chemist of Algiers, collected some cochineals, and had the
merit of first introducing the insect into the colony. On account of bad
weather these first essays were fruitless, but it was not long before they
were repeated.

Fig. 93.—Branch of the Cactus, with Cochineal Insects
on.

M. Loze, surgeon in the navy, undertook to introduce the insect again,
and, with M. Hardy, director of the central garden of Algiers, gave himself
up, with great intelligence, to the naturalisation and rearing of the cochineal
in Algeria.
In 1847 the French Minister of War, for the purpose of having the value
of the Algerian cochineal fixed by commerce, caused to be sold publicly on
the market-place of Marseilles a case of cochineal, the produce of the
harvests of 1845 and 1846, from the experimental garden of Algiers, and
which contained 17 kilogrammes of this commodity. Since that time the
cultivation of this insect, the beginning of which was due to M. Limonnet,
has rapidly developed. In 1853, in the province of Algiers alone, there were
fourteen nopaleries, or cactus gardens, containing 61,500 plants. The

Government at that time bought the harvests for fifteen francs the
kilogramme.
We have only pointed out in a general way how the cochineal harvest is
conducted. We will now enter into some details on the subject. These
insects are gathered when the females are about to lay, that is, when a few
young are hatched. It is when the females are pregnant that they contain the
greatest amount of colouring matter. When the harvest time has arrived, the
rearers stretch out on the ground pieces of linen at the foot of the plants, and
detach the cochineals from them, brushing the plants with a rather hard
brush, or scraping them off with the blade of a blunt knife.
If the season is favourable, the operation may be repeated three times in
the course of a year in the same plantation. The insects thus collected are
killed, by dipping into boiling water, by being put into an oven, or by being
placed on a plate of hot iron. The cochineals, when withdrawn from the
boiling water, are placed upon drainers, first in the sun, then in the shade,
then in an airy place. During their immersion in water they lose the white
powder which covers them. In this state they are called in Mexico
ronagridas. Those which have passed through the oven they call jaspeadas,
and are of an ashy grey; those that are torrefied are black, and are called
negras. In commerce three sorts of cochineal are recognised; first, the
mastique (mestèque), of a reddish colour, with a more or less abundant
glaucous powder; secondly, the noire, which is large and of a blackish
brown; thirdly, the sylvestre, which is, on the contrary, smaller and reddish.
The latter is the least esteemed, and is gathered on wild cacti.
Each year there are imported into France 200,000 kilogrammes of
cochineals, which represents a value of about three millions of francs.
Every one knows that it is from cochineal that carmine is made, a
magnificent red frequently employed by painters. Lake carmine is another
product obtained from the cochineal. And, lastly, scarlet is the powder of
the cochineal precipitated by a salt of tin.
Before the Mexican cochineal was known in Europe, the kermes, or
Coccus ilicis, known still in commerce and by chemists under the names of
Animal kermes, Vegetable kermes, and Scarlet seed, was used for the
preparation of the carmine employed in the arts. This cochineal lives by

preference (at least, so it is supposed) on the evergreen oak (Quercus ilex),
whence its specific name.
The Coccus ilicis develops itself almost exclusively, not on the
evergreen oak, but on the Quercus coccifera, or kermes oak, a shrub
common in dry arid places on the Continent, and which vegetates on a great
number of spots in the Mediterranean, particularly on the garrigues, or
waste land, of Herault.
The females of this insect, which, dried, bear the name of graines de
kermes, are of the size of an ordinary currant, without any trace of rings,
nearly spherical, of a violet and glaucous colour. They adhere to the boughs
of the shrub Quercus coccifera, and form dry brittle masses, which the
peasants of the south of France collect, and sell at a tolerably high price.
Before we possessed the cochineal of Mexico and of Algeria, this
cochineal was very much employed in the south of Europe, in the East, and
in Africa. It furnishes a beautiful red colour. This last named and the
Mexican cochineal are somewhat used in pharmacy. They enter into
alkermes, a sort of liquor served at dinner in Italy, chiefly at Florence and
Naples.
Another species of cochineal is the Coccus polonicus, which is met with
in Poland and Russia, more rarely in France, on the roots of a small plant,
the Scleranthus perennis. This cochineal is gathered in the Ukraine towards
the end of June, when the abdomen of the female is swollen, and filled with
a purple and sanguineous juice.
The Polish kermes (Coccus polonicus) was formerly used very much in
Europe. This product has not indeed lost all its importance in those
countries where it is met with in abundance.
We have now only to point out among the insects of this group the
Coccus lacca, which lives in India on many trees, among others on the
Indian fig-tree, the Pagoda fig-tree, the Jujube tree, on the Croton, &c.
These last-mentioned insects produce a colouring matter known under
the name of Lac Dye. They fix themselves on the little branches, getting
together in great numbers, forming nearly straight lines. The bodies of
many fecundated females, united together by a resinous exudation which is

caused by the piercing of the bark, constitutes the matter called in
commerce and by dyers by the name of Lac Dye, Shell-lac, Gum-lac, &c.
Resinous lac is found in commerce under four forms:—First, the stick-
lac, such as it is found concreted at the extremity of the branches whence it
exudes—it is an irregular brownish crust; secondly, the seed-lac, picked off
the branches and pounded; thirdly, shell-lac in scales melted down and run
into thin plates, which vary in quality according to the proportion of
colouring matter they contain; fourthly, thread-lac, which resembles reddish
threads, and is prepared thus in India.
One more word about the cochineal. The Coccus manniparus, which
lives on the shrubs (Tamarix mannifera) on Mount Sinai, causes to exude
from the branches it has pierced a sort of manna. The Coccus sinensis
produces a kind of wax which is employed in China in the manufacture of
candles.

IV.

LEPIDOPTERA.
This order of insects is known popularly by the names of Butterfly and
Moth. Linnæus gave them the name of Lepidoptera, meaning insects with
scaly wings (λεπις, a scale; and πτερον, a wing). They are to be found in
great numbers in all parts of the world. All the insects contained in the order
are, in their perfect state, remarkable for the elegance of their shape, the
rapidity and airiness of their flight, and the multiplicity and beauty of their
colours. Before they arrive at this perfect state, the Lepidoptera have to
undergo three complete transformations. They leave the egg in the larva or
caterpillar state; they pass next to the state of pupa, or chrysalis; they then
assume, after a variable time, their final or perfect form. We will study them
in their three different states in succession.

The Larva, or Caterpillar.
When the winter has stripped the leaves off the trees, the Lepidoptera
are seen no more; but as soon as the leaves begin to show themselves on the
trees and shrubs, this tribe of the insect race again makes its appearance.
Caterpillars of all kinds are gnawing at the leaves, even before they are fully
developed. Many of them have just emerged from the eggs which the
perfect insects had laid at an earlier period; others have passed the winter in
this state.
When they come out of the egg the young caterpillars are in shape more
or less elongated and cylindrical. Their body is composed of twelve
segments, or rings. In front is the head; then come three segments, on which
are the front legs, and which constitute the thorax; the other segments

constitute the abdomen. The head is formed of two scaly parts. It is often
very deeply hollowed out on its upper side, and divided into two lobes,
which contain in the angle formed by their separation the different parts of
the mouth. The head is uniform, rarely having, so far as our cater pillars are
concerned, any protuberance; but in the tropical species it is often armed
with prickles, spikes, and extraordinary appendages. They are provided with
six small simple eyes, isolated from each other. The mouth is armed
laterally with a pair of very solid horny mandibles, articulated by means of
vigorous muscles, and moving horizontally. It is the function of the
mandibles, as with the jaws, to divide the creature's food. On the middle of a
broad under-lip one may perceive a little elongated tubular organ, pierced
with a microscopic orifice. This organ is the spinning apparatus, which the
animal uses in fabricating the threads which it will one day require. It is a
tube composed of longitudinal fibres. It presents only one orifice, cut
obliquely, and capable of applying itself exactly to the body on which the
larva is placed. From the contractile nature of this organ and the form of its
orifice, combined with the faculty the insect possesses of moving it in all
directions, result the great differences we observe in the diameter and form
of the threads.

Fig. 94.—Scaly legs of the Caterpillar of the Gipsy Moth
(Liparis dispar).

The external organs of the trunk and abdomen are the legs, the spiracles,
and various occasional appendages. The legs are of two different kinds. The
one, to the number of six, attached by pairs to the trunk, are covered with a
shiny cartilage, and armed with hooks. These are the true legs. Fig. 94
represents, after Réaumur's "Mémoire sur les Différentes Parties des
Chenilles," [36] the scaly legs of the caterpillar of the Gipsy Moth. The
others are membranous, fleshy, generally conical or cylindrical, contractile,
and taking, according to the will of the animal, very different forms. Fig. 95

represents, after the same Memoir of Réaumur's, the different forms of the
membranous legs of the silkworm caterpillar. This plate gives a sufficiently
good idea of the shape of these organs, and of the hooks, circular or semi-
circular, with which they are furnished.

Fig. 95.—Membranous legs of the Silkworm (Bombyx mori).

In Fig. 96 are represented, after the same author, two membranous legs
of a large caterpillar, of which the hooks of the feet are fastened into a
branch of a shrub.
Caterpillars have from two to ten false
legs, the scaly legs being always six in
number. The pro-legs, as the fleshy ones are
called, are divided into hinder and
intermediate. The former are two in
number; the intermediate are rarely more
than eight in number.
In the caterpillars which have the full
number of legs—that is to say, sixteen—
there are two empty spaces, where the body
has no support: the one between the legs
and the pro-legs, formed by the fourth and
fifth segment; the other, between the
intermediate pro-legs and the anal legs,
Fig. 96.—Membranous legs of a formed by the tenth and eleventh ring.
large Caterpillar embracing a twig.
The variations which caterpillars
present, so far as the number and situations
of their pro-legs are concerned, are the following:—

The greatest number among them have ten pro-legs; others have only
eight; others only six—these may be called semi-loopers; others only four,
one pair being situated on the last ring, and the other on the ninth, as in the
case of looper caterpillars. And, lastly, there are others which have only two
pro-legs.
The various forms, numbers, and positions of these organs, produce
great differences in the mode of locomotion of caterpillars. Those provided
with ten or eight membranous legs have in walking only a very slight
undulating motion. Their bodies are parallel to the plane which supports
them. They can walk very quickly; but their steps are short and quickly
repeated. Others, on the contrary, in proportion as the number of their false
legs diminish, and the spaces between the legs increase, walk in a more
irregular and quaint manner.
If the reader will glance at Fig. 97,
taken from Réaumur's "Mémoire sur les
Chenilles en général,"[37] which
represents a looper caterpillar, with four
membranous legs, he will see that there is
a considerable space between the Fig. 97.—Looper Caterpillar.
posterior legs and the first pair of pro-
legs, along which the body has no points
of support. If one of these caterpillars, lying quiet and at full length,
determines to walk, in order to take its first step (Fig. 98) it begins by
humping its back, curving into an arch that part which has no legs, and
finishes by assuming the position seen in Fig. 99. In the former position it
has its two intermediate legs against the posterior legs, and, in consequence,
it has brought forward the hinder part of its body, a distance equal to the
interval of the five segments which separate them. There it hooks on by its
intermediate and hind legs. Then it has only to raise and straighten the five
rings which had formed the loop, and to advance its head to a distance equal
to the length of five segments. The step is thus made, the caterpillar making
the same movements in taking the second and following steps.

Fig. 98.—Caterpillar curved into an arch. Fig. 99.—Caterpillar at full length.

This sort of gait has gained for them the name of Geometers, because
they seem to measure the road over which they travel. When they make a
step, they apply the part of their body which they have just curved up to the
ground, in exactly the same way as a land surveyor applies his chain to it.

Fig. 100.—Caterpillar of the Canary-shouldered Thorn
(Eugonia alniaria).

These looper caterpillars cannot shorten nor lengthen their segments at
will, as other caterpillars, but only bend their bodies. There are many
species whose bodies are cylindrical, stiff, and of the same colour as bark.
Their attitudes deceive even the close observer. They embrace the stem of a
leaf or twig with their hinder and intermediate legs, whilst the rest of their
body, vertically elevated, remains stiff and immovable for hours together.
Fig. 100 shows the caterpillar of the Canary-shouldered Thorn (Eugonia
alniaria) in this strange position. Now, this is a feat of strength which the
most skilful of our acrobats, ordinary and extraordinary, which all the

Leotards of the present day, and those who are to succeed them, can never
accomplish. With such a persistency, this caterpillar can sustain its body in
the air for a considerable time, in all the positions imaginable, between the
vertical and the horizontal, and downwards again in any incline from the
horizontal to the vertical. "If one considers," says Réaumur, "how far we are
from having in the muscles of our arms a force capable of supporting us in
such attitudes as these, we must own that the power of the muscles in these
insects is prodigious."
We will not dwell now on the variableness of the length of the body of
caterpillars; on the fleshy appendages which are to be observed on them; on
the hairs which either beautify or render them hideous, according to the
fancy of the observer; nor on the various colours with which they are
decorated. We will notice these various characteristics when giving the
history of some species of remarkable Lepidoptera.
Many caterpillars are solitary; others live in companies more or less
numerous, either when young, or during the whole of their existence.
With the exception of a great number of moths, which live at the
expense of our furs, or woollen stuffs, and leather or fatty matters, all
caterpillars feed on plants. From the root to the seeds, no part of the
vegetable is safe from their attacks. The greatest number of the species,
however, prefer the leaves. Those of the most acrid and poisonous are no
more spared than those of the most harmless plants. There are caterpillars
which eat the leaves of the Euphorbia, or spurge, for instance.
"I wished to try," says Réaumur, "the milk of this plant on my tongue. It
produced hardly any effect upon it at first; but after a quarter of an hour I
found my mouth on fire, and it was a heat which reiterated garglings with
water during many hours in succession could not quench. This continued till
the next day. The heat passed successively from one part of my mouth to
another. I, however, saw many of my caterpillars drinking greedily the great
drops of milk which were at the end of the broken stem I had presented to
them."
Is it not extraordinary that there are caterpillars which live on the nettle?
—that they eat the leaves of this plant, armed as it is with stinging bristles,
which cause such smarting and itching to the skin, and produce blisters
upon it.

It has often been said that each plant has its own peculiar species of
caterpillar. All we can say is, that a certain number of vegetables only suit
certain caterpillars. The species which eat roots are few; those which live in
the interior of stalks or stems which they feed on are numerous, and those
which nourish themselves on the pulp of fruits are rare. In general, after the
leaves, the caterpillars prefer the flowers: in this they certainly do not show
bad taste. Their growth is more or less rapid, according to the species,
according to the nourishment they take, and according to the season of the
year. Those whose food is succulent grow more rapidly than those which
have for their food dry gramineous plants and coriaceous lichens. Most of
them eat at night, and remain during the day motionless, and as it were in a
state of torpor; others are so voracious that they are constantly eating. This
voracity is indeed sometimes surprising. Malpighi has observed that a
silkworm often eats in a day mulberry leaves equal to its own weight. How
could we provide our horses and oxen with provender, if they required each
day their own weight of hay and grass? There are even some caterpillars
which are still more voracious than that. Réaumur weighed several
caterpillars of a species which lives on the cabbage, and gave them bits of
cabbage-leaves which weighed twice as much as their bodies. In less than
twenty-four hours they had entirely consumed them. In this space of time
their weight increased one-tenth. Fancy a man whose weight is 180 lbs.
eating in one day 360 lbs. of meat, and gaining 18 lbs. in weight!
Caterpillars eat by the aid of two jaws or mandibles so broad and solid that,
considering the smallness of the insect, they are equivalent to all the teeth
with which large animals are furnished. It is by the alternate movement of
these mandibles that the caterpillars devour the leaves with so much
greediness and ease.
"A caterpillar, when it wants to gnaw the edge of a leaf," says Réaumur,
"twists its body in such a way that at least one portion of the edge of this
leaf is passed between its legs. These legs hold fast that portion of the leaf
which is to be cut by the insect's jaws (Fig. 101). To give the first bite the
caterpillar elongates its body, and carries its head as far forward as possible.
The portion of the leaf which is between the open jaws is cut through the
instant the teeth meet each other; the bites succeed each other quickly; there
is not one, or scarcely one of them, that does not detach a bit, and each bit is
swallowed almost as soon as cut off. At each fresh bite the head approaches
the legs in such a way that during the succession of bites it describes an arc;

it hollows out the portion of the leaf in
a segment of a circle, and it is always
in this order that it gnaws it."
But there is a phenomenon in the
life of caterpillars which we ought to
point out, and which has attracted the
attention of the most illustrious
observers. All caterpillars change their
skins many times during their life. It is
not, indeed, enough to say that they
change their skins; the skins or cases
they cast are so complete that they
Fig. 101.—Looper Caterpillar eating the
might be taken for entire caterpillars.
leaves of the Apricot (after Réaumur).
The hairs, the case of the legs, the
claws with which the legs are
provided, the hard and solid parts which cover the head, the jaws—all these
are found in the skin which the insect abandons. What an operation for the
poor little animal! This labour is so enormous, so troublesome, that one
cannot form a just idea of it. One or two days before this grand crisis, the
caterpillar leaves off eating, loses its usual activity, and becomes motionless
and languid. Their colour fades, their skin dries little by little, they bow their
backs, swell out their segments. At last this dried-up skin splits below the
back, on the second or third ring, and lets us have a glimpse of a small
portion of the new skin, easily to be recognised by the freshness and
brightness of its colours.
"When once the split has been begun," says Réaumur, "it is easy for the
insect to extend it; it continues to swell out that part of its body which is
opposite the slit. Very soon this part raises itself above the sides of the split;
it does the work of a wedge, which elongates it; thus the split soon extends
from the end or the commencement of the first ring as far as the other side
of the end of the fourth. The upper portion of the body which corresponds to
these four rings is then laid bare, and the caterpillar has an opening
sufficiently large to serve it as an egress through which it can entirely leave
its old skin. It curves its fore part, and draws it backwards; by this
movement it disengages its head from under its old envelope, and brings it
up to the beginning of the slit; at once it raises it, and puts it out through this

slit. The moment afterwards it stretches out its fore part and lowers its head.
There now remains for the caterpillar nothing but to draw its hinder part
from the old case."
This excessively laborious operation is finished in less than a minute.
The new livery which the caterpillar has just put on is fresh and bright in
colour. But the animal is exhausted by its fast, and the efforts which it has
made. It requires a few hours in which to regain its equilibrium, and at the
same time its former activity and voracity.

The Chrysalis, or Pupa.
Having attained its full development, the caterpillar ceases to eat, as at
the approach of a moult, it empties its intestinal canal by copious ejections;
it loses its colours, and becomes dull and livid, and thus prepares itself to
enter a new phase of its existence.
Some, when about to transform themselves into chrysalides, suspend
themselves to foreign bodies. Others spin a cocoon, composed of silk and
other substances, which secures them against the attacks of their enemies
and the action of the atmosphere. Those which suspend themselves can be
divided under two heads, according to the mode of their suspension:—1.
Those which suspend themselves perpendicularly by the tail. 2. Those
which, after having fixed themselves by the same part, suspend themselves
horizontally, by means of a silk thread passed round the body.
To understand the difficulty which
the first of these operations presents,
we must consider the problem which
the caterpillar has to solve. In this
problem there are two unknown
quantities to be discovered. Firstly, the
caterpillar must suspend itself firmly;
and secondly, the pupa, having no
communication with the object which
supports it, must be suspended in the
same manner. This problem is
difficult, apparently impossible, to
solve. It is only by watching these Figs. 102, 103.—Caterpillars of the small

insects at work that one can discover Tortoise-shell
the wonderful mysteries of their lives.
Swammerdam, Valisnieri, and other
observers who have studied insects,
had not, however, observed the
manœuvres of caterpillars in this
curious phase of their existence. It is
to Réaumur again that science is
indebted for the most charming and
valuable observations on this point.
He got together a great number of
caterpillars of the small Tortoise-shell
Butterfly (Vanessa urticæ), black
prickly caterpillars which are common
on the stinging-nettle, where they live
Figs. 104, 105.—Chrysalides of the small
in companies, and suspend themselves
by the tail. When the time approaches Tortoise-shell Butterfly freeing themselves
from the Caterpillar skin.
at which the caterpillars of this species
ought to undergo their
transformations, they usually leave the plant which had up to that time
served them as food. After having wandered about a little, they select some
convenient spot, where they hang themselves up head downwards (Figs.
102, 103).
In order to hang itself in this way, the caterpillar begins by covering,
with threads drawn in different directions, a pretty large extent of the
surface of the body against which it wishes to fix itself. After having
covered it thus with a kind of thin cobweb, it adds different layers of threads
on a small portion of this surface, in such a manner that the upper one is
always smaller than that upon which it is laid. In this manner a small hillock
of silk is formed, the tissue of which is not at all compact. It resembles an
assemblage of loose or badly interwoven threads. The membranous feet of
the caterpillar are armed with hooks of different lengths, with the aid of
which it suspends itself. By alternately contracting and elongating its body,
it pushes its hindermost legs against the hillock of silk, presses against it the
hooks of its feet, so as to get them better entangled, and lets its body fall in a
vertical position.

It remains hanging thus, often for twenty-four hours, during which time
it is occupied in a difficult task, that of splitting its skin. In order to effect
this, it incessantly curves and recurves its body (Fig. 102), until at last a
split appears on the skin of the back, and through this split emerges a part of
the body of the chrysalis. This acts as a wedge, and little by little the split
widens from the head to the last of the true legs, and beyond them. Then the
opening is sufficient to allow of the chrysalis drawing out its anterior
portion from the envelope, which it immediately does. To set itself entirely
free, the chrysalis lengthens and shortens itself alternately (Fig. 105). Each
time that it shortens itself, and when it consequently distends the part of its
body which is outside the old skin, that part acts against the edges of the slit,
and gradually pushes the old skin upwards. Thus the caterpillar skin
ascends, its plaits are pushed nearer and nearer together, and it is soon
reduced to a packet so small that it covers only the end of the tail of the
chrysalis (Fig. 106).
But here comes the culminating point, the most difficult part of the
operation. The chrysalis, which is shorter than the caterpillar, is at some
distance from the silky network to which it must fix itself; it is only
supported by that extremity of the caterpillar's skin which had not been split
open. It has neither legs nor arms, and yet it must free itself from this
remaining part of the skin, and reach the threads to which it is to suspend
itself.

Fig. 106.—Chrysalis of the small Tortoise- Fig. 107.—Chrysalis divested of the larva
shell skin.
Butterfly completing the operation
of casting its larval skin.

The supple and contractile segments of the chrysalis serve for the limbs
which are wanting to it. Between two of these segments, as with a pair of
pincers, the insect seizes a portion of the folded skin, and with such a firm
hold that it is able to support the whole of its body on it. It now curves its
hinder parts slightly, and draws its tail entirely out of the sheath in which it
was enclosed. It then reposes for an instant only, for it has not yet finished
the laborious operation of its deliverance. It must free itself entirely from the
dry skin which surrounds the extremity of its body.
The insect curves the part which is below its tail in such a manner that
that part can embrace and seize the packet to which it holds on. It then gives
to its body a violent shock, which makes it spin round many times on its
tail, and that with great rapidity. During all these pirouettes the chrysalis
acts against the skin; the hooks of its legs fray the threads, and break them
or disentangle themselves from them. Sometimes the threads do not break at
once. Then the animal recommences its revolutions in an opposite direction,
and this time it is almost certain to succeed. Réaumur, however, saw a
chrysalis which, after having tired itself in vain in its endeavours to get
entirely free of its old skin, despairing of ever being able to manage it,
abandoned it where it was so solidly fixed. We represent (Fig. 107), rather
magnified, the chrysalis arrived at its final state, and suspended to a branch
of a tree by a network of silk. [38]
We come now to the mode of suspension employed by those caterpillars,
which, after having fixed themselves by the tail, strengthen the support by
means of a small silk cord passed round their body.
It is again to Réaumur, that indefatigable observer of the habits of
insects, that we go for the details of this manner of suspension. According to
Réaumur, these caterpillars make and put on this belt in three different
ways. But of these three ways the simplest, and the least liable to meet with
accident, is that employed by the larva of the Cabbage Butterfly (Pieris
brassicæ). When the time for its metamorphosis is only a few days distant,
one may observe this caterpillar engaged in stretching threads on different
parts of the case in which it is confined. It then chooses a spot, which it
covers entirely with threads, some more compact than the others, and
disposed in layers, which cross each other in different directions. These
threads form a thin white cloth, against which the belly of the caterpillar and
later that of the chrysalis are applied. Very soon we see a small hillock of

silk rising. The caterpillar hooks itself on to this by the claws of its hinder
feet, and sets to work to secure itself.
To understand this process, it suffices to know that after having
lengthened its body to a certain point, this caterpillar can turn back its head
on to its back, and reach to the fifth ring, having its three pairs of true legs
in the air. But without putting the caterpillar into such an unnatural position,
let us take it in a position in which it is simply bent sideways in such a
manner that its head, with the thread-spinning apparatus, which is below,
can be applied opposite and pretty near to one of the legs belonging to the
first pair of membranous legs. Our caterpillar begins by fixing on this point
a thread, which is the first of those that are intended to tie it up securely.

Fig. 108.—Caterpillars of the Cabbage Butterfly (Pieris brassicæ).

"This thread," says the illustrious author of the "Mémoires pour servir à
l'Histoire des Insectes, "must pass over the caterpillar's body, and be
attached by its other end near the leg corresponding to that near which the
first end was fastened. To spin the thread the proper length, and at the same
time to fix it in its proper place, the caterpillar has only to bring round its
head to the fifth segment. The thread will be drawn from the spinning
apparatus as the head advances over half the circumference of the circle
which it has to describe; and when it has described this, there will only
remain for it to secure the second end of the thread against the support. Thus
the head, which was at first placed against one of the legs, advances little by

little on the outline of the fifth ring as far as to its middle (Fig. 108). It is the
facility the caterpillar has of reversing its body that enables it to make its
head perform this journey, in proportion as it moves it over the
circumference of the ring, it twists its body. And at last, when it has brought
it over the top of the segment, its body is exactly folded in two; it draws it
little by little from this situation by bending towards the other side, and by
causing its head to pass gently over the last quarter of the circle. At last the
caterpillar finds itself bound on the second side; the head rests on the thread-
covered plane, and the insect fixes the second end of the thread."
It has only to repeat the same
manœuvre as many times as there
are threads wanted to make a strong
band. But each thread embraces the
head, or rather the lower part of the
head, for it knows how to make Fig. 109.—Caterpillar of the Pieris brassicæ.
each thread it spins glide into the
bend or crease of its neck by a little movement of its head. It must disengage
its head from under the band, not a difficult operation. It causes it to slide
along the threads near one of the places where they are fixed, and it is then
in the position indicated by the foregoing engraving (Fig. 109).
About thirty hours after the caterpillars have succeeded in making
themselves fast, they have completed their transformation into chrysalides
(Fig. 110), where the chrysalis of the above-mentioned caterpillar is seen in
two different positions, and held by the same band which first supported the
caterpillar.
Those caterpillars which construct cocoons make them of silk and other
substances. These cocoons are, for the most part, oval or elliptical,
sometimes boat-shaped, and ordinarily white, yellow, or brown in colour.
The threads may very slightly adhere together, or be closely united by a
gummy substance with which the caterpillar lines the interior of the cocoon,
and which it expels from the anus. Some cocoons are composed of a double
envelope, others are of a uniform texture. Some are of a tissue so close that
they entirely hide the chrysalis contained within; others form a very light
covering, through which the chrysalis can be easily perceived (Fig. 111).

Among caterpillars that make a very
slight cocoon, some, as the Catocalas,
gather together two or three leaves into a
ball, to protect them. Others strengthen
their cocoons, and render them opaque by
adding earth or other substances, often
obtained from their own bodies. Some,
after having spun their cocoon, cast forth
through the anus three or four masses of a
Fig. 111.— matter resembling paste, which they
Cocoon, after apply with their head to the inside of the
Réaumur. cocoon, and which, drying quickly,
becomes pulverulent. Others employ for
the same purpose the hairs with which their bodies are
covered.
The larva of Acronycta aceris (Fig. 113) is covered
with tufts of yellow hair. Réaumur made these caterpillars
work under his own eye in glass vases. They make the
layer which is to form the exterior surface of their shell,
or cocoon, of pure silk, and when it is thick enough, tear Fig. 110.—Pupæ of
out their hair, now from one place, now from another. But Pieris brassicæ.
we will leave the illustrious observer to relate this
operation himself, which must without doubt be painful to the poor animal:
—

Fig. 112.—Larvæ of Catocala fraxini.

Fig. 113.—Larva of Acronycta aceris.

"Its two jaws are the pincers the
caterpillar uses in seizing a portion of one or
other of the tufts of hair; and when it has
seized it, it tears it out without much
difficulty. It at once places this against the
tissue it has already commenced, in which it
entangles it at first simply by pressure; it
fixes it then more securely by spinning over
it. It does not leave off tearing out its hairs
till it has entirely stripped them off. When
the caterpillar has taken between its jaws and Fig. 114.—Larva of Acronycta
torn out a whole tuft of hair, the head carries aceris.
it and deposits it on some part of the lower
surface of the cocoon; but it does not leave
the hairs of such a large parcel together. The
next moment one sees its head moving
about very quickly; then taking a portion of
the hairs from the little heap, it distributes
them about on the neighbouring parts of the
cocoon. If one opens one of these shells Fig. 115.—Larva of Acronycta aceris
before the caterpillar has become a taken out of its cocoon.
chrysalis, the larva, which is quite naked,
and which was only known by its hair, can
be no longer recognised."

Fig. 116.—Larva of Chelonia caja.

The caterpillar of the Tiger Moth, or Woolly Bear, called by Réaumur
Marte or Herisson (Chelonia caja, Fig. 116), is covered with long inclined
hairs. This caterpillar also makes use of its hairs for strengthening the tissue
of its cocoon; but whether it feels the pain more acutely than the former, or
whether it would suffer more, it does not tear out its hairs. It adopts another
system; it cuts them. The caterpillar is then enveloped on all sides in its hair,
which is to serve in the construction of its cocoon.
Another species uses its hairs in the
composition of its cocoon; but it adopts an
entirely peculiar way of tearing them out,
when the tissue of its cocoon has become a
species of network of pretty closely packed
rings. Réaumur one day saw one part of the
cocoon bristling with hairs. These were the
hairs of a part of the back of the caterpillar,
which it had pushed through the rings of its
cocoon. The caterpillar then moved about as
if rubbing this part of its back successively
Fig. 117.—Larva of Chelonia caja in opposite directions against the interior
forming its cocoon. surface of the cocoon. In this way the hairs
were very soon torn out and kept retained in
the rings of the cocoon. This cocoon is then bristly inside, and does not at all
suit the future chrysalis, which does not like to be touched by any but
smooth surfaces. The caterpillar then works with its head, to lay the hairs
along the interior surface, and to keep them down by threads, which it draws
over them. At another time Réaumur saw a small hairy caterpillar, which
appeared to live on lichens, using its hair in another way. It tore them out to
make its cocoon, but it was not to lay them down and work them into a

tissue. It set them straight up like the stakes of palisades, on the
circumference of an oval space, in which it was placed. Shut up within this
palisade, it spun a light white web. This web supports the hairs, causing the
greater part of them to curve at their upper extremity, in such a manner as to
form a sort of cradle.

Fig. 118.—Small Caterpillar of the Pimpernel. Fig. 119.—Cocoon of the same.

It remains for us now to speak of the caterpillars that make their cocoons
of silk, together with other materials. Réaumur saw the Pimpernel caterpillar
arranging and sticking together the leaves of that plant, and spinning
underneath them a thin cocoon of white silk (Fig. 119).

Fig. 120.—Larva of Cucullia verbasci.

Some caterpillars make their cocoons on the surface of the earth, and
even with earth. These cocoons are spherical or oblong. Their exterior is
more or less well shaped, but their interior is always smooth, polished,
shining like moistened earth, worked up together into a kind of paste, and
carefully smoothed out. This cocoon is besides lined with a covering of silk
of variable thickness. The shell is not made of earth alone; threads of silk
may be seen in it, crossing each other, and binding together the particles of
earth.

These subterranean workers do not allow
their proceedings to be easily observed.
Réaumur was fortunate enough to be able to
notice their skill in the construction of their
shells or cocoons. The Cucullia verbasci (Fig.
120) makes itself a thick and very compact
cocoon of the form of an egg (Fig. 121). Fig. 121.—Cocoon of the
Réaumur took one of these out of the ground Cucullia verbasci.
before it is fortified. He tore it partially open,
and placed it in a glass vase containing sand, but the poor insect was not
long in repairing the disorder caused by the rough hand of our naturalist. It
only took four hours to restore its cocoon to its former state.
"It began," says Réaumur, "by coming almost entirely out, and left only
its hinder part within. It moved its head forwards as far as was necessary to
enable it to seize a particle of earth. As soon as it had got its load, it re-
entered the interior of the cocoon. It deposited the grain of earth, and came
out again immediately, as it did at first, to pick up another grain, which it
carried likewise into the interior of the cocoon. This operation it continued
for more than an hour.... The provision of materials being got together, the
caterpillar now devoted his whole attention to working them up. It began by
spinning over one part of the edges of the opening. After having put over
this a small band of very loose web, the caterpillar's head left the opening,
the insect went right back again into its cocoon, and the head returned to the
opening loaded with a little grain of earth, which it entangled in the silky
threads. It then entangled in them two or three, or a greater number of
grains, according to the quantity of threads it had spun. It bound them into
these with other threads, after which it drew threads over the edges of
another part. By thus going round the whole rim of the opening, and by
carrying and fixing the grains of earth in the threads which were the last
stretched over the opening, it rendered its diameter smaller and smaller."
It was by working with its head that our mason gave to the new wall of
its cocoon the necessary curvature. It was interesting to know how, as it
could no longer put out its head, it could stop up the orifice.
"It knew how to change its manœuvres. When the opening was reduced
to a circle of only a few lines in diameter, it drew threads from a point on
the circumference to another on the other side.... Thus the opening was

covered in with a rather open network.... As soon as this web was finished,
it got a grain of earth (which it had laid by until it was wanted), brought it
up, placed it against the web, and by pushing and pressing it, made it pass
through the web until it reached the exterior, and so in succession the whole
of the web was covered with grains of earth.... It was not satisfied with
rendering the exterior of this place exactly like the rest of the shell; it
fortified it thoroughly; it added to it, one after another, layers of grains of
earth, till it was as solid and as thick as the rest."
The larva of Pyralis corticalis, which is found on oak trees in the month
of May, shows to what a point these little insects carry their industry in the
construction of their cocoons, in the choice of their materials, in their
manner of working them up, and in the forms they cause them to assume.
Réaumur one day saw this caterpillar on a small branch, between two
triangular appendages (Figs. 122, 123). This was the beginning of a cocoon.
Each triangular blade was composed of a great number of small, thin,
rectangular plates, taken from the bark of the twig. The caterpillar detached
with its jaws a small band of bark, and fitted it on, and adjusted it with
admirable precision against the edge already formed. It then fixed it
securely with silk threads. Réaumur saw this caterpillar work and erect in
this way a large blade during an hour and a half.

Figs. 122, 123.—Cocoon of Pyralis corticalis (magnified, proper size
2/3 inch).

"When one sees," he says,[39] "an insect which, to construct a cocoon,
begins by collecting together an infinite number of small plates of bark in
order to compose of them two flat triangular blades; which, to gain its end,
takes means that seem so roundabout, although they are the most suitable
and the quickest it could adopt, one is very much tempted to consider such
an insect, when one sees it thus acting, possessed of reason."
These two blades are at last transformed into a regular cocoon. The little
animal, which is at the same time architect, cabinet-maker, and weaver,
arranges it in such a way as to form a hollow cone, which it only remains
for it to shut. Réaumur calls this sort of cocoon or shell, la coque en bateau,
the boat-shaped cocoon. Some caterpillars weave cocoons of the same form
with pure silk.

To bring this subject to an end, we will mention the industry of the Puss
Moth (Dicranura vinula), and that of a small Tinea, which eats the barley
stored away in our granaries.
The larva of the puss moth employs in the construction of its shell the
wood of the tree on which it has lived. It bites it up, and mixing it with a
glutinous fluid which it secretes from its mouth, reduces it to a sort of paste,
which it then uses in the formation of an envelope, of such hardness that a
knife can hardly cut into it.
The Tinea lines the interior of a grain, of which it has previously
devoured the contents, with a coating of silk, and divides it thus into two
different chambers. In one of these it is to change into a pupa; in the other it
places its excrement. And so the little careful architect constructs its house
in such a manner as to find in it tranquillity, cleanliness, and comfort.
When caterpillars have not within their reach the materials they are in
the habit of employing, like good workmen, they content themselves with
what they can get. Réaumur reared a caterpillar which formed its cocoon of
pieces of the paper of which the box was made in which it was imprisoned.
What an extraordinary condition! what a strange phase of vitality does
the chrysalis present to us—a being occupying the middle state between the
caterpillar and the perfect insect! How little does it resemble that which it
previously was, and what it will become! In appearance it is scarcely a
living being; it takes no nourishment, and has no digestive organs; can
neither walk nor drag itself along, and hardly bends the joints of its body.
The outside skin of the chrysalis appears to be cartilaginous; it is generally
smooth, although some species have hairs scattered over their bodies.
We distinguish in chrysalides two opposite sides. The one is the insect's
back, the other its under side. On the upper part of the latter (Fig. 124) we
perceive various raised portions, formed and arranged like the bands round
the heads of mummies; the back is plain and rounded in a great number of
pupæ; but a great many others have on the upper part, along the edges
which separate the two sides, little humps, eminences broader than they are
thick, ending in a sharp point (Fig. 125).

Fig. 124. Fig. 125. Fig. 126.
A conical Pupa having angular Angular pupa of a
pupa. projections. Butterfly.

The head of the angular pupæ terminates sometimes in two angular
parts, which diverge from each other like two horns (Fig. 126). In some
other cases they are curved into the form of a crescent. These appendages
sometimes give to the pupa the appearance of a mask, especially as an
eminence placed on the middle of the back is rather like a nose, and the
small cavities may represent the eyes (Fig. 125).
The colours of angular pupæ attract our attention. Some are superbly
tinted; they appear to be wrapped in silk and gold. Others have only spots of
gold and silver on their belly or their back. All, however, have not this
remarkable splendour, not these metallic spots. Some are green, yellow, and
spotted with gold. Generally they are brown. Réaumur has shown that this
golden colour is not due, as was thought for a long while, to colouring
matter, but to a little whitish membrane, placed under the skin, which
reflects the light through the thin outer pellicle, in such a manner as to
produce the optical illusion which imparts to the robe of the chrysalis the
golden hues of a princess in grand costume. All is not gold that glitters,
Réaumur proves literally, in the case of chrysalis. [40]
Let us add that the chrysalis remains thus superbly dressed as long as it
is tenanted, but loses its colour as soon as the butterfly has quitted it.
The cone-shaped pupæ belong to the twilight and night-flying
Lepidoptera, and to those butterflies whose caterpillars are onisciform, or in
shape resembling a wood-louse. They are generally oval, rounded at the

head, and more or less conical at the lower end. Their colour is generally of
a uniform chestnut brown.
What a mystery is that which is accomplished in the transition from the
chrysalis to the perfect state! Those great changes from the larva state to that
of the pupa, and from the pupa to that of the imago, are accomplished with
such rapidity, that the phenomena were looked on as sudden
metamorphoses, like those related in mythology. It has been thought also
that there was in these changes from one state to another a sort of
resurrection. There is here neither sudden metamorphosis, nor, as we will
show, resurrection. In fact, the chrysalis is a living being; it indeed shows its
vitality by exterior movements. Under the old skin of a caterpillar about to
moult, under the envelope which is soon to be cast off, the new integuments
are being prepared.
Some days before the moult, split the caterpillar's
skin, and you will find the skin which is to take its place
already beneath. If, some days before the transformation
of the caterpillar into a chrysalis, it is dissected, the
rudiments of wings and antennæ may be discovered. If a
chrysalis is examined on the outside, all the parts of the
future insect can be distinguished under the skin: the
wings, the legs, the antennæ, the proboscis, &c.; only,
these parts are folded and packed away in such a manner
that the chrysalis can make no use of them. It could not,
moreover, make use of them on account of their
incomplete development. Fig. 127 shows, after Réaumur,
[41]
a chrysalis magnified and seen from its lower side,
on which we observe:—a, the wings; b b, the antennæ; t,
the trunk or proboscis.
There is a moment when these parts, pressed one
against each other, and as it were swathed up like a
mummy, are very easily seen, for they are, as we may Fig. 127.
say, laid bare. This moment is that in which the pupa has Chrysalis of the
just quitted the caterpillar's skin. It is then still soft and large Tortoise-shell
tender. Its body is moistened with a liquid, which, drying Butterfly (Vanessa
rapidly, becomes opaque, coloured, and of a polychloros),
membranous consistency. The result is that the parts

which did not cohere in the least when the chrysalis magnified, seen from
made its first appearance, are fastened together, so that the lower side.
although they could at first be seen, through a layer of
transparent fluid, they are now hidden under a sort of veil or cloak. It is
necessary to seize then the moment of the birth of the chrysalis, to observe it
accurately.
On examining the pupa before the liquid which pervades these parts has
had time to dry, it resembles the perfect insect. All the exterior parts which
belong to the imago can be distinguished. One recognises the head, which is
then resting on the thorax; the two eyes and the antennæ (Fig. 128), which
are brought forward like two ribbons; the wings also brought over the
thorax, but these are separated artificially in the drawing we have given after
Réaumur; [42] and lastly in the space left between the wings, the six legs,
and the body of the insect.

Fig. 128.—Chrysalis of the Large Tortoise-shell Butterfly (Vanessa
polychloros) whose different parts have been opened before they were
fastened down.
(a, wings; b b, antennæ; t, trunk, or proboscis.)

To sum up: the pupa, when it approaches the period for being hatched is
only a swaddled butterfly. Directly it has strength enough to rid itself of its

wrapping, the insect frees itself from its fetters; it flies away, brilliant and
free, and its many-coloured wings glitter in the sun.
The duration of the pupa state is variable, according to the species and
the temperature. Réaumur placed in a hot-house, in the month of January,
some pupæ which, in the ordinary course of things, would not have been
hatched till the month of May, and a fortnight afterwards the imagos had
appeared. On the other hand, he shut up some pupæ in an ice-house during
the whole of a summer, and thus retarded their being hatched by a whole
year. The influence of the temperature on the period of emerging, and,
consequently, the influence of the seasons on the length of this period, are
completely brought to light by these experiments. [43]
We will now see how the insect delivers itself from the last skin. To quit
the pupa case is not so laborious an operation as it was for the same insect to
quit the caterpillar's skin. This is because the pupa case is drier; it does not
adhere to every part of the body, and is brittle. Those insects which are
enclosed in a cocoon free themselves of the pupa envelope in the cocoon
itself. To witness the last operation, the cocoon may be opened, and the pupa
drawn out of it with care. If it is then placed in a box, the metamorphosis
may be observed. To study this last evolution more at his ease, Réaumur
covered a large extent of the wall of his study with pupæ of the Vanessa
polychloros and other species.
When the parts of the body of the insect have attained a certain degree
of solidity within the envelope, it has no great difficulty in making the thin
and friable membrane which surrounds it split in different places. If it even
distends itself or moves, a small opening will be made in the dried skin. If
the movements persist, the opening increases in size, and very soon allows
the imago to emerge.
It is on the middle of the upper part of the thorax that the envelope
begins to split. The split extends over the middle of the forehead and back.
The pieces of the thorax open, separate themselves from the other parts to
which they were fixed, and the insect can take advantage of the opening
which is made, and escape. Little by little also it advances its head. The
head is the first out of the old skin, and the insect sets itself entirely free.
This occupies rather a long time; for we must remember that, under the
pupal envelope, its legs, its antennæ, its wings, and many other parts, are

enclosed in special cases. These peculiar circumstances
show that the animal has much trouble and must employ
some time in setting free all the parts.
At last our prisoner has come out of its narrow cell,
and is delivered from its old covering. What poet can
describe to us the sensations of this charming and frail
creature which has just risen from the tomb, and for the
first time is enjoying the splendid light of day, the radiant
sky, and the flowers redolent with delicious perfumes,
which are inviting it to kiss and caress them!
Fig. 129.
The wings strike one most. They are very small at the
Moth just emerged.
time of birth.
Fig. 129 represents, after Réaumur, [44] a moth at the
moment in which it has just emerged from the pupa. But
at the end of a short period the wings become developed;
only they are wrinkled, as Fig. 130, given by Réaumur,
represents.
Réaumur having taken between his fingers a very
short wing of a butterfly which was just hatched, drew it
about gently in all directions. He succeeded thus in
giving it the whole extent it would have assumed
naturally. According to Réaumur the wing of a butterfly
just born, which appears so small, is really already Fig. 130.
provided with all its parts, only it is folded and re-folded Moth whose wings
on itself. He supposes that what his hands did to lengthen are folded up.
the butterfly's wings, is done naturally by the liquids
which are contained in the insect which has just emerged, and whose wings
are no longer confined in their cases. At the time of its birth the wings are
flat and thick; as they grow, little by little they spread themselves out and
become curled up. When they are completely developed and flattened the
wings become firm and hard imperceptibly, and this firmness extends at the
same time to the whole of the body.
Figs. 131 and 132, borrowed, like the preceding, from the 14th Memoir
of Réaumur (sur la transformation des chrysalides en papillons), show the

states through which the wings of the same moth pass, before they are
thoroughly developed.

Fig. 131.—Moth whose wings are Fig. 132.—Moth whose wings are
developing. developed.

Those pupæ enclosed in cocoons free themselves entirely or in part from
their old skin, in the shell itself; but the imago is still a prisoner. It has
broken through a first enclosure; it must open itself a way through the
second. How does it manage to bore through the often very solid walls of
this second prison, so as to regain its liberty? Réaumur states that in the
Lackey Moth (Bombyx neustria) the head is the only instrument of which
the insect makes use in opening a passage, the compound eyes then acting
like files. These files cut the very fine threads of which the cocoon is
composed, and as soon as the end of the cocoon is pierced through, the
insect uses its thorax like a wedge, to enlarge the hole. It very soon manages
to get its two front legs out, fixes itself by them on to the outside, and little
by little emerges from its prison.

The Perfect Insect.
Who does not admire the extraordinary splendour, the vivacity, the
prodigious variety of colours of these brilliant inhabitants of the air? Some
amateurs have devoted to the purchase of certain butterflies large sums of
money. "Diamonds," says Réaumur on the subject, "have perhaps beauties
no more real than those of a butterfly's wings; but they have a beauty which
is more acknowledged by the world in general, and which is more
recognised in commerce." The essential character of butterflies and moths

makes them very easily recognisable among all other insects. All have four
wings, which are covered with scales, that communicate to them the brilliant
colours with which they are decorated. It is these scales which adhere to the
fingers when we seize one of these charming creatures.

Fig. 133.—Different forms of the scales of Butterflies, after Réaumur.

For a long time this dust was thought to be formed of very small
feathers, but Réaumur showed that it is composed of little scales. Their form
varies singularly, as we may see in Fig. 133, borrowed from the Memoirs of
Réaumur, [45] which represents the different forms of the scales which cover
the wings of Lepidoptera. M. Bernard Deschamps has closely studied them.
According to this naturalist, they are composed of three membranes, or
plates, superposed one on the other, of which the first is covered with
granulations of a rounded form, which give to these scales their splendid
and varied colours; the second plate is covered with silk, forming sometimes
curious designs; the third plate, viz., that which is applied to the membrane
of the wing, has the peculiar property of reflecting colours the most brilliant
and the most varied, although the surface of the scales visible to the eye is
often dull and colourless.
"Supposing," says M. Bernard Deschamps, "that a painter was possessed
of colours rich enough to represent on canvas with all their splendour, gold,
silver, the opal, the ruby, the sapphire, the emerald, and the other precious
stones which the East produces, that with these colours he formed all the

shades which could result from their combination, one might affirm without
the chance of contradiction, that he would have none of these colours and of
their various shades, whatever might be the number, which could not be
discovered by the microscope on part of the scales of the Lepidoptera,
which Nature has been pleased to conceal from our gaze."
Each of these scales adheres to
the membrane of the wing by a small
tube, which is solidly fixed to it.
Réaumur has called our attention to
the admirable arrangement of these
scales, which are disposed like those
of fish, that is to say, in such a
manner that those of a row shall
partially overlap those in the
following one.
In Fig. 134, representing a
Fig. 134.—Portion of the wing of a Moth portion of the wing of the Saturnia
(Saturnia pavonia major), magnified. pavonia major, magnified, which we
borrow from Réaumur's Memoir, the
scales are arranged in rows; isolated
scales, and the points where other scales were fixed before they were taken
off, are represented.
The membranous frame which supports the coloured scales of butterflies
and moths is well worth a moment's consideration. It consists of two
membranes intimately united by their interior surfaces, and divided into
many distinct parts by horny, fistulous threads, more or less ramified, which
seem intended to support the two membranes mentioned above, and which
branch out from the base to the edge of the wing. Their number, counting
from the exterior edge, is not always the same in the upper and lower wings.
It varies from eight to twelve.
With its large and light wings, the butterfly can fly for a long time. But
this flight is not in the least regular; it is not made in a straight line. When
the insect has to go some distance, it flies alternately up and down. The line
it takes is composed of an infinity of zig-zags, going up and down, and from
right to left. This irregularity of flight saves the little insect from falling a

prey to birds. "I saw one day with pleasure," says Réaumur, "a sparrow
which pursued in the air a butterfly for nearly ten minutes without being
able to catch it. The flight of the bird was nevertheless considerably more
rapid than that of the butterfly, but the butterfly was always higher or lower
than the place to which the bird flew, and where it thought it would catch
it."
But let us leave the wings to pass on to the other parts of the butterfly.
These other parts are the thorax or chest, the body or abdomen, and the
head.
The thorax is solidly put together, so as to bear the movements of the
wings and legs. These latter are composed, as in other insects, of five parts:
the coxa, the trochanter, the thigh, the shank, and the tarsus.
Many butterflies have all their six legs of equal length. In others, the two
fore legs are very small, and are not suited for walking. In others, again,
they are rudimentary, being deprived of hooks, very hairy, and applied on to
the front of the breast.

Fig. 135.—Leg of Butterfly armed with Fig. 136.—Leg not suitable for
hooks. walking.

This difference of structure may be seen in Figs. 135 and 136, one of
which represents, after Réaumur, a leg unsuited for walking, very hairy, and
terminated in a sort of brush resembling the tail on a tippet; and the other a
leg furnished with hooks.
The abdomen has the form of an elongated, or—in the majority of
species—an almost cylindrical oval. It is composed of five segments, each
formed of an upper and a lower ring, joined together by a membrane. The
first are larger than the others, and generally overlap the edges, which gives
to this part of the body the power of dilating considerably.
We must dwell longer on the head. It is generally rounded, compressed
in front, longer than it is broad, and furnished with fine or scaly hairs. The

important organs of which this part is the seat are the eyes, the antennæ, the
palpi, and the proboscis or trunk.
The eyes are more or less spherical, surrounded by hairs, and composed
of innumerable facettes. Colours are seen on these as various as those of the
rainbow. But the colour which serves as a base to all, is black in some, grey
in others; then again there are different gold or bronze colours of the
greatest splendour, inclining sometimes to red, sometimes to yellow,
sometimes to green. On the compound eye of a butterfly as many as 17,325
facettes have been counted. Simple eyes, or stemmata, are moreover
observed in certain species, and are generally more or less hidden by scales.
The antennæ are situated near the upper rim or border of each eye.
Réaumur has pointed out six principal shapes. One terminates in a little
knob, and belongs to the butterflies. The others are variously shaped, and
belong to the moths. Some are prismatic, or like beading. And lastly, others
are shaped like feathers. We represent, in Fig. 137, the different forms of the
antennæ, which Réaumur collected together in plates 8 and 9 of his fifth
Memoir. [46]
The palpi are four in number, two maxillary and two labial. The first are
generally excessively small; one can only ascertain their existence by the aid
of a strong magnifying glass: the second are in general very apparent,
straight, cylindrical, covered with scales, and formed of three joints, of
which the last is often very small and sometimes very pointed. They also
sometimes bristle with stiff or silky hairs.
The trunk is placed exactly between the two eyes. As long as the
butterfly does not want to take nourishment, the trunk remains rolled in a
spiral. Some are so short, that they scarcely make one turn and a half or two
turns; some larger sized make three turns and a half or four turns; lastly,
some very long are curled as many as eight or ten times.
This is how the butterfly makes use of its trunk: When fluttering around
a flower, it will very soon settle on or quite close to it. The trunk is then
brought forward entirely or almost entirely unrolled; very soon afterwards it
is almost straightened, then directed downwards, and plunged into the
flower. Sometimes the insect draws it out a moment after, curves it, twists it
a little, and sometimes even curls it partially up. Immediately it straightens

it again, to plunge it a second time into the same flower. It repeats the same
manœuvre seven or eight times, and then flies on to another flower.

Fig. 137.—Antennæ of Lepidoptera.

This trunk, of which the butterfly makes such good use, is composed of
two filaments more or less long, horny, concave in their interior surfaces,
and fastened together by their edges. When cut transversely, one sees,
according to Réaumur, [47] that the interior is composed of three small rings.
Consequently, there are three canals in the trunk: one central, the other two
lateral (Fig. 138). Are all these three used to conduct the juice of flowers
into the butterfly's body? Réaumur has made some very interesting
observations on this subject, by observing a moth which was sucking a lump
of sugar whilst its portrait was being taken.
"I held in one hand," says Réaumur, "a powerful magnifying glass,
which I brought near to that part of the trunk I wished to examine; I was
sometimes half a minute, or nearly a minute, without perceiving anything,

after which I saw clearly a little column of liquid
mounting quickly along the whole length of the trunk.
Often this column appeared to be intersected by little
balls, which seemed to be globules of air which had
been drawn up with the liquid.
"This liquid ascended thus during three or four
seconds, and then ceased. At the end of an interval of
a greater number of seconds, or sometimes after an
interval as short, I saw some fresh liquid mounting up
along the trunk. But it was straight up the middle of
Fig. 138. the trunk that it seemed to ascend.
Section of a Butterfly's
Trunk, after Réaumur.
"The Author of Nature has given to insects means
of working, which, though very simple, we cannot
divine, and which often we are not able even to
perceive. Whilst I was observing the trunk of our butterfly, between the
columns of liquid which I saw ascending, there were, but more rarely, times
when I saw, on the contrary, liquid descending from the base of the trunk to
the point. The descending liquid occupied half or two-thirds of the tube. It
was no longer difficult to perceive how the butterfly is able to nourish itself
on honey, the thickest syrup, and even the most solid sugar. The fluid it
sends down is probably very liquid; it drives against the sugar, moistens,
and dissolves it. The butterfly pumps this liquid up again when it is charged
with sugar, and conducts it along as far as the base of its trunk, and beyond
it."
The life of the perfect insect is generally very short. Like nearly all other
insects, they die as soon as they have propagated their species. The female
lays her eggs, which vary in shape, on the plant which is to nourish her
progeny. The colour is also very various, and passes through all sorts of
shades. At the moment they are laid, many are covered with a gummy
substance, insoluble in water, which serves to stick them on the plant.
In some species the mother lays her eggs on the trunks of trees, and
covers them with down or with the hairs which clothe her abdomen, so as to
preserve them from cold and damp. She may also hide them entirely under a
whitish foamy substance. Some do not lay more than a hundred eggs; others
lay some thousands.

To bring the history of the Lepidoptera to an end, it only remains for us
to give a sketch of their classification, and to point out some species
remarkable, either on account of their beauty or their utility.
We see during the day butterflies flying in our gardens, in meadows full
of flowers, or in the alleys of woods. Towards evening, at the sombre hour
of twilight, the stroller is sometimes surprised to see pass near him large
moths, with a heavy and unequal flight; or, if we go into a garden on a
beautiful calm summer's night, bearing a light, we see a crowd of moths
flying from all parts towards it.
It is on account of these different hours at which the Lepidoptera show
themselves, that naturalists for a long time divided them into diurnal,
crepuscular, and nocturnal. This division was simple, convenient, and
seemed founded on Nature. Unfortunately, the night fliers of the old authors
do not all fly by night: some species, classed by the old naturalists among
the crepuscular, or nocturnal, show themselves in the very middle of the
day, seeking their food in the hottest rays of the sun. In the regions near the
poles they appear during the day, and in other countries they are more or
less friends of the twilight.
So as not to multiply methodical divisions, we will confine ourselves to
classing the Lepidoptera into two sections.
The first section contains those which fly during the day, which have
club-shaped antennæ, and which have their four wings entirely free, and
standing perpendicularly [48] when the insect is at rest. They are called
Butterflies, or Rhopalocera. This section is divided into a number of
families, which comprise many genera. We will content ourselves with
calling the attention of the reader to some of the most remarkable of these
groups, and to those species which, either on account of their beauty or
abundance, strike, or ought to strike, the attention of every one.

Fig. 139.—Swallow-tailed Butterfly (Papilio machaon).

In the family of the Papilionidi, we will mention the genera Papilio, to
which belong the Swallow-tailed Butterfly (Papilio machaon), Papilio
podalirius, &c., and Parnassius, of which we will notice Parnassius Apollo,
and Parnassius Mnemosyne.

Fig. 140.—Larva and Chrysalis of Papilio machaon.

The swallow-tailed butterfly is found plentifully in the fens of
Cambridgeshire, and Norfolk and Suffolk, and very commonly in the
environs of Paris. It is seen from the beginning of May till towards the
middle of June; then from the end of July till September. It frequents
gardens, woods, and, above all, fields of lucerne. It is easily taken when
settled, particularly at sunset.

This is one of the largest and the most beautiful of the European
butterflies. The wings are variegated with yellow and black; the eyes,
antennæ, and trunk are black. The body is yellow on the sides and
underneath, and black above. The front wings have rounded edges; the hind
ones, on the contrary, are notched, and one of these notches is prolonged
into a sort of tail. The first are black, spotted and striped with yellow; the
second have their upper part and middle yellow, with some touches only of
black. Near the margin is a broad black band, dusted with blue; lastly, six
yellow spots in the form of a crescent run along the border, and end in a
magnificent eye of a reddish colour, bordered with blue.

Fig. 141.—Papilio Alexanor.

The caterpillar of this species is large, smooth, and of a beautiful light
green, with a transverse black band on each ring. These bands are sprinkled
with orange spots. It lives on the fennel, carrot, and other Umbelliferæ. If
teased, it thrusts from the first ring after the head a fleshy, orange-coloured
tentacle. The chrysalis, attached to a stalk of grass, is sometimes light green,
sometimes greyish.

In the low Alps, on the plains near the environs of Digne and
Barcelonette, is found in the months of May and July the Papilio Alexanor
(Fig. 141), and in Corsica and Sardinia is found the Papilio hospiton, a rare
species, nearly related to our swallow-tailed butterfly, but which we will
here content ourselves with mentioning.

Fig. 142.—The scarce Swallow-tailed Butterfly (Papilio podalirius).

The Papilio podalirius (Fig. 142) is in form very analogous to Papilio
machaon. It is of a rather pale yellow colour, marked with black, as if
singed. The lower wings have tails longer and narrower than those of the
latter, and are magnificently ornamented with blue crescent-shaped spots
and an orange-coloured eye bordered below with blue. This beautiful
species is not rare at Montmorency, at Ile-Adam, and at St. Germain. It is
said to have been taken in England, and is called the scarce Swallow-tail,
but its capture is considered as very questionable. It appears for the first
time at the end of April, and for the second in July and August. The
Parnassius Apollo (Fig. 143), is a beautiful butterfly, which appears in June
and July, and is found commonly enough in the Alps, the Pyrenees, and the
Cévennes. Its wings are of a yellowish white. The upper part of the fore

wings presents five nearly round black spots; the base and the costa, or front
edge, of these wings are sprinkled with black atoms. The upper part of the
hind wings presents two eyes of a vermilion red, the inner border furnished
with whitish hairs amply dotted with black, and marked towards the
extremity with two black spots. The under part of the fore wings is very
similar to the upper. But the under part of the hind wings presents four red
spots bordered by black, forming a transverse band near the base. The body
is black, furnished with russety hairs, and the antennæ white, with the club
black.

Fig. 143.—Parnassius Apollo.

The larva of the Apollo lives on saxifrages. To affect its transformation
it surrounds itself with a slight network of silk in which are confined one or
more leaves. This caterpillar is thick, smooth, cylindrical, and covered with
small slightly hairy warts, and ornamented on the first ring with a fleshy
tentacle in the shape of a Y. The chrysalis is conical, sprinkled over with a
bluish efflorescence resembling the bloom on a plum. The Parnassius
Mnemosyne is found in the month of June in the mountains of Dauphiné, in
Switzerland, Sicily, Hungary, Sweden, and in the Pyrenees.
In the family of the Pieridi we will mention many species remarkable in
different ways, such as Pieris cratægi, the black-veined White, Pieris
brassicæ, the Cabbage Butterfly, Pieris napi, Pieris callidice, Anthocharis
cardamines, the Orange-tip, Rhodocera (Gonepteryx) rhamni, and Colias
edusa, or Clouded-yellow. Pieris cratægi is white both above and below; the
veins only of the wings are black, and become a little broader at the edge of
the upper wings. These black veins on a rather transparent white ground
make this butterfly resemble a gauze veil, hence its French name, le gaze. It

flies in spring and summer in meadows and gardens, but is not generally
common in England. In the first volume of his "Travels in the North of
Russia," Pallas relates that he saw insects of this species flying in great
numbers in the environs of Winofka, and that he at first took them for flakes
of snow. The Pieris cratægi fixes itself at sunset on flowers, where it is
easily taken by the hand. During the day, on the contrary, it is difficult to
catch. The larva, black at first, afterwards assumes short yellow and white
hairs, but it varies much. They live in companies, under a silky web, in
which they pass the winter. The leaves of the hawthorn, the sloe, the cherry
tree, and of many other fruit trees, serve them for food. The pupa, yellow or
white, and sometimes of both colours with little stripes and spots of black, is
angular and terminated in front by a blunt point.

Fig. 144.—Pieris brassicæ.

The Pieris brassicæ (Fig. 144), or Cabbage Butterfly, is perhaps the
commonest of all butterflies. From the beginning of spring till the end of
autumn one sees it flying about everywhere, in the gardens, sometimes near
and almost in the interior of towns. It is of a dull white, spotted and veined
with black, and it can be seen at a long distance, when flitting from flower
to flower, in a meadow or garden. And so children wage desperate war
against this flying prey. The pursuit of the cabbage butterfly through the
alleys of parks, along the outskirts of woods, or on the green turf of
meadows, is the first joy and the first passion of children in the country.
The caterpillar (Fig. 145) is of a yellowish green, or rather greenish
yellow, with three yellow longitudinal stripes separated by little black
points, from each of which springs a whitish hair. It lives in groups on the
cabbages in gardens, and on many other Cruciferæ. It is so voracious that it
consumes in a day more than double its own weight, and, as it multiplies

very quickly, commits great ravages in the vegetable
garden. Its pupa (Fig. 145) is of an ashy white, spotted
with black and yellow.
The Pieris rapæ, or Small White Butterfly, differs
but little from the preceding except in size. The
caterpillar, which lives on the cabbage, turnip,
mignonette, nasturtium, &c., is green, with three yellow
lines. It does not do these much harm. In France it is
called le ver du cœur (the heartworm), because it
penetrates in between leaves pressed closely together.
The Pieris napi (Fig. 146), the Green-veined White,
is very like the two preceding, but the wings, the lower
one especially, have underneath broad veins, or bands,
of a greenish colour. The Pieris callidice, the wings of
which are white spotted with black, is common in the Fig. 145.—Caterpillar
Alps of France, in Savoy and Switzerland, and in the and Chrysalis of
Pyrenees. Its caterpillar lives near the regions of Pieris brassicæ.
perpetual snow, on small cruciferous plants.

Fig. 146.—Pieris napi. Fig. 147.—Anthocharis cardamines.

The Orange-tips have, in the males, the extremity of the upper wings of
a beautiful orange yellow. The rest of the wings is white in the only British
species (Fig. 147), which is to be seen in meadows from the end of April till
the end of May, and sulphur-coloured in some other species.
One species, extremely common, and which appears with but short
interruption from the beginning of spring till the end of autumn, is the
Brimstone Butterfly (Rhodocera [Gonepteryx] rhamni). The wings are a
lemon yellow, with an orange-coloured spot in the middle of each, and the

front border terminated in a series of very small iron-coloured spots. The
body of the butterfly is black with silvery hairs.

Fig. 148.—Thecla betulæ.

The Colias edusa, or Clouded-yellow, so called from the colour of the
upper part of its wings, is not uncommon in meadows and fields in early
autumn throughout Europe. The upper side of the wings is of a marigold
yellow; the upper ones having towards the middle a large spot of black. At
the extremity of each wing is a broad black band, continuous in the case of
the male, interrupted by yellow spots in the female. The back of the body is
yellow; the legs, as well as the antennæ, rosy.
The family of the Lycænidæ comprises a great number of species, some
of which we will mention.
The Theclæ, or Hair-streaks, which the French call Petits Porte-queues,
on account of the tails which grace the hind margin of the hind wings,
inhabit woods, their larvæ feeding, according to the species, on the birch,
the oak, the plum-tree, the bramble, &c.
The Thecla betulæ (Fig. 148), or Brown Hair-streak, is somewhat rare in
this country.

Fig. 149.—Thecla quercus.

The Purple Hair-streak (Thecla quercus, Fig. 149), which Geoffroy calls
the "Porte-queue bleu à une bande blanche," is not rare in woods; but it is
very difficult to catch, as it flies nearly always by couples at the tops of
trees. We still further represent here the Black Hair-streak (Thecla pruni,
Fig. 150), and the Green Hair-streak (Thecla rubi, Fig. 151).

Fig. 150.—Thecla pruni.

In the meadows are found the Copper Butterflies; butterflies with wings
of a bright, tawny colour, with black marks on the upper side. Such is the
Polyommatus (Lycæna) phlæas (Fig. 152), which is very common from the
end of May until late in the autumn. The upper part of the wing is coppery,
spotted with black, the under side of a grey colour, sprinkled with small
eyes, and bordered by a zone of tawny spots. Linnæus counted forty-two
little black eyes on the under side of the wings.

Fig. 151.—Thecla rubi.

We also figure Polyommatus (Lycæna) virgaureæ (Fig. 153), and
Polyommatus (Lycæna) gordius (Fig. 154), neither of which occurs in this
country.

Fig. 152.—Small Copper (Polyommatus [Lycæna]
phlæas.)

In the meadows, the gardens, and the lucerne and clover fields, are
found the charming Blue Butterflies, the wings on the upper side, in the
majority of instances, blue in the case of the males, brown in the females.

Fig. 153.—Polyommatus (Lycæna) virgaureæ.

They comprise the genus Lycæna, or, as it is frequently called,
Polyommatus,[49] though that name is now generally given to the preceding.
We will content ourselves here by giving drawings of a few species of the
genus, namely, the Lycæna (Polyommatus) Corydon, or Blue Argus (Fig.
155), which is not uncommon wherever there is chalk, in May and August;
the Lycæna (Polyommatus) battus, or Brown Argus (Fig. 156), which does
not occur here; the Lycæna (Polyommatus) ægan, which flies about our
sandy heaths.

Fig. 154.—Polyommatus (Lycæna) gordius.

The caterpillars of this genus, as also those of the preceding, are broad
and flat, resembling wood-lice, with very short legs, and are very slow in
their movements.

Fig. 155.—Lycæna (Polyommatus) Corydon.

In the numerous family of the Vanessidæ are placed the beautiful species
known as the large and small Tortoise-shell, the Peacock, &c.

Fig. 156.—Lycæna (Polyommatus) battus. Fig. 157.—Lycæna (Polyommatus) ægon.

The large Tortoise-shell Butterfly (Vanessa polychloros, Fig. 158) has
the wings of a tawny colour above, and of a blackish brown below, with
darker spots, bordered by a black band, with a stripe of yellowish colour
running down the middle. It is found in July and September on the oak, the
elm, the willow, and many fruit trees.

Fig. 158.—Large Tortoise-shell Butterfly Fig. 159.—Larva and chrysalis of the large
(Vanessa polychloros). Tortoise-shell (Vanessa polychloros).

The larva (Fig. 159) is bluish or brownish, with an orange-coloured
lateral line, bristling with yellowish hairs. The chrysalis, which is angular,
and of a red tint, is ornamented with golden metallic spots.

Fig. 160.—Small Tortoise-shell Butterfly
(Vanessa urticæ).

Fig. 161.—Peacock Butterfly (Vanessa Io).

We give here a drawing of the small Tortoise-shell (Vanessa urticæ, Fig.
160), which resembles the preceding, but is smaller. Its caterpillar, bristly,
blackish, with four yellowish lines, lives in companies on the nettle. The
Peacock Butterfly (Vanessa Io, Fig. 161) is very easily recognised by the
peacock's eyes—to the number of four, one on each wing—which have
gained for it the name it bears. The eye on the upper wings is reddish in the
middle and surrounded by a yellowish circle. That on the lower ones is
blackish, with a grey circle round it, and contains bluish spots. The upper
part of the wings is of a russety brown, the under part blackish. This
Vanessa is met with in the woods, in lucerne fields, and in gardens. Its spiny
caterpillar is of a shiny black with white dots, and lives in companies on
nettles. The chrysalis, at first greenish, then brownish, is ornamented with
golden spots.

Fig. 162.—Camberwell Beauty (Vanessa Antiopa).

The Vanessa Antiopa (Fig. 162), one of the greatest of entomological
rarities in England, is not very common in the woods about Paris, but it is
frequently found in the environs of Bordeaux, and, above all, at the Grande
Chartreuse (in the department of Isère). The Parisian collectors go as far as
Fontainebleau in pursuit of this beautiful species, with angular wings, of a
dark purple black, with a yellowish or whitish band on the hind border and a
succession of blue spots above it. The caterpillar is black, and bristly, with
red spots. It lives in companies on the birch, the aspen, the elm, and
different kinds of willows. The pupa is blackish, sprinkled with a bluish
powder, and has ferruginous-coloured dots. The butterfly, which emerges
from the chrysalis in July and August, is found, after hybernation, at the end
of February and until May. It flies very rapidly, and is very difficult to catch.

Fig. 163.—Red Admiral Butterfly (Vanessa
Atalanta).

Fig. 164.—Painted Lady Butterfly (Vanessa [Cynthia] cardui).

The Red Admiral Butterfly (Vanessa Atalanta, Fig. 163) has bands of
vermilion colour on the upper side of its wings, which are black above, and
variegated beneath with different colours. The caterpillar is bristly and
blackish, with a succession of spots of lemon- colour on its sides. It lives in
solitude on the stinging-nettle (Urtica dioica). Its chrysalis is blackish, with
golden spots. This magnificent insect is common at the end of summer, and
easy to catch. If missed once it comes back again almost immediately, and
almost alights on the net of the collector.
The Painted Lady (Vanessa [Cynthia] cardui, Fig. 164) owes its
vernacular name to the beauty of its colours. The upper wings are covered
above with tawny spots, rather cerise coloured towards the interior, and with
white spots on the hind margin towards the tip of the wing; the whole on a
lightish ground. The lower wings are of a reddish tawny colour with many
black spots, a circular row of which borders the wing. The caterpillar is
bristly, brownish, with yellow lateral broken lines. It lives in solitude on
many species of thistle, on the artichoke, the milfoil or yarrow, &c. It makes
for itself a web, rather like a spider's nest, and lives therein. The chrysalis is
greyish, with numerous golden dots. The perfect insect shows itself almost

without interruption, from spring till autumn. It flies rapidly, and in certain
seasons is abundant.
The Vanessa (Grapta) C. album (Fig.
165), or Comma Butterfly, is common in
parts of England. Above, its wings are
tawny, spotted with black. Below, they are
more or less brown, with different tints,
and sometimes a little blue. On the under
side of the lower wings is a white spot of
the form of a C. "This spot," says old
Geoffroy, "caused this butterfly to have the
name of gamma given to it, and its colour
Fig. 165.
of Diable enrhumé (sic), as also the
The Comma Butterfly (Vanessa C.
singular cut of its wings, has caused it to
album).
be called by others Robert le Diable." Its
caterpillar lives on the nettle, the
honeysuckle, the currant, the hazel, and the elm. It is of a reddish brown,
with a white band on the back. Réaumur calls it the Beadle, comparing it to
the church beadles, who usually dress in glaring colours.
The brilliant Vanessæ, of which we have just briefly described some
remarkable species, have been the cause of superstitious terror. This must at
first sight seem incredible, but it has arisen thus: When they have just
quitted the pupa, a red-coloured liquid drops from them. If a great many
butterflies are hatched at the same time, and in the same place, the ground
becomes, as it were, sprinkled with drops of blood. Hence the origin of
some of those pretended showers of blood, which, at different periods, have
terrified the ignorant, too much imbued with religious superstitions.
At the beginning of the month of July, 1608, one of these supposed
showers of blood fell on the outskirts of Aix, in Provence, and this rain
extended for the distance of half a league from the town. Some priests of the
town deceived themselves, or, desirous of turning to account the credulity of
the people, did not hesitate to attribute this event to Satanic agency.
Fortunately, a learned man, M. de Peiresc, who was not only well versed in
the knowledge of ancient literature, but who was, moreover, familiar with
the natural sciences, discovered that a prodigious multitude of butterflies
were flying about in the places which were thus miraculously covered with

blood. He collected some chrysalides and put them into a box, and letting
them hatch there, observed the blood-like liquid, and hastened to make it
known to the friends of the miraculous. He established the fact that the
supposed drops of blood were only found in cavities, in interstices, under
the copings of walls, &c., and never on the surface of stones turned
upwards; and proved by these observations that they were drops of a red
liquid deposited by the butterflies.
However, in spite of the reassuring remarks of the learned Peiresc, the
people in the outskirts of Aix continued to feel a genuine terror at the sight
of these tears of blood which stained the soil. Peiresc attributes to this same
cause some other showers of blood related by historians, and which took
place about the same season. Such was a shower which was supposed to
have fallen in the time of Childebert, at Paris, and in a house in the territory
of Senlis. Such again was a so-called bloody shower which showed itself
towards the end of June, during the reign of King Robert of France.
Réaumur points out the large Tortoise-shell as being the most capable of
spreading these sorts of alarms, founded on a deplorable ignorance and the
spirit of superstition.
"Thousands," says he, "change into pupæ towards the end of May or the
beginning of June. Before their transformation they leave the trees, often
fastening themselves to walls, and, making their way into country-houses,
they suspend themselves to the frames of doors, &c. If the butterflies which
come out of them towards the end of June or the beginning of July were all
to fly together, there would be enough of them to form little clouds or
swarms, and consequently there would be enough to cover the stones in
certain localities with spots of a blood-red colour, and to make those who
only seek to terrify themselves, and to see prodigies in everything, believe
that during the night it had rained blood."
In the family of Nymphalidæ, we will first mention the White Admiral
(Fig. 166). The upper side of its wings is of a dark brown, almost black,
traversed in the middle by a white band divided into spots very close to each
other. The lower part of the wings is ferruginous, with a band and spots of
white, as on the upper, besides which it has a double hinder transverse row
of black dots. These dots are followed on the hind wings by some white
spots, and the whole of the inner margin is of a glossy ashy blue, with the
base spotted with black. This butterfly is not rare in the month of July in

woods in the south of England, where
it flies round and settles upon the
branches of the underwood. The
caterpillar is of a delicate green, with a
lateral white stripe, and rather bristly.
It feeds on honeysuckle. The pupa is
angular, of greenish colour, with
golden spots.
Fig. 166.—White Admiral (Limenitis
sibilla).

Fig. 167.—Limenitis camilla.

The Limenitis camilla (Fig. 167), of which the black on the wings is shot
with blue, is not found in England.
In the month of July the Apatura ilia (Fig. 168) and the Purple Emperor
(Apatura iris), sylvan insects of strong flight, whose wings are beautifully
shot with violet blue when examined in certain lights—the latter resembling
Ilia, but wanting the eye-like spots on the front wings—are met with. Iris
only is found in this country. Both species occur in the environs of Paris.

Fig. 168.—Apatura ilia.

The Charaxes jasius (Fig. 169), which is found along the whole of the
Mediterranean coast, has its lower wings terminated in two points, whence
the peasants call this butterfly the Pacha with two tails. The upper part of its
wings is of a brown colour of changing hues. The hind margin of the fore
wings has along it a tawny band with a fine black line running round. The
hind wings have their hinder margin black, and garnished with a little white
fringe. The two tails are black, and the groove of the inner margin is of an
ashy grey. The underneath of the wings is ferruginous, with spots of an olive
brown set in a framework of white towards the base.

Fig. 169.—Charaxes jasius.

The caterpillar is green, and flat like a slug, with four yellow horns
bordered with red (Fig. 170). It lives on the arbutus, a shrub common
enough on the hills and mountains of the coast of the Mediterranean.

Fig. 170.—Larva of Charaxes jasius Fig. 171.—Erebia Euryale.
about to change to a pupa.

To the family of the Satyridi belongs the Erebia Euryale (Fig. 171),
which is found in the month of July in sub-alpine regions; the Chionobas
aello (Fig. 172), which is found in the Alps of Switzerland, of the Tyrol, and
of Savoy, and which is common enough, in the month of July, on the
summit of Montanvers, near the mer de glace; the Satyrus janira, or
Meadow Brown (Fig. 173), which is very common, in the months of June
and July, in woods and fields.

Fig. 172.—Chionobas aello.

We now pass on to the second section of Lepidoptera.

Fig. 173.—Meadow brown (Satyrus
[Hipparchia janira).

It contains those whose flight in the majority of species is nocturnal or
by twilight, but by day in some species. The antennæ are more or less
swollen out in the middle or before their extremities, and, independently of
that, sometimes prismatic, sometimes cylindrical, sometimes pectinated or
indented. The body—which was small in comparison to the wings, and
which was remarkably thin between the thorax and the abdomen in the first
section of Lepidoptera—is in this section very much larger in proportion to
the wings, and is not drawn tightly in between the thorax and the abdomen.
The wings are horizontal or slightly inclined when the insect is at rest; the
upper then cover the lower, which are generally comparatively short and
kept back by a bridle on the first, in the case of the males only.

Fig. 174.—Sesia apiformis. Fig. 175.—Six-spot Burnet Moth
(Zygæna filipendulæ).

We will take the genus Sesia as the representative of the
Sesiidæ. These singular insects have membranous wings,
and resemble various species of Hymenoptera. The largest
species is the Sesia apiformis (Fig. 174), that is, bee-like,
which is found in this country, resting on the trunks of
willows and poplar-trees, from the end of May till the
middle of July. It resembles a hornet, and is of the same size
and has the same colours; only they are not quite so bright.
When this moth is just hatched its wings are ferruginous; but
its scales, light and caducous, fall as soon as the insect
begins to fly. The caterpillar, which lives in the trunks or
roots of willows and poplar-trees, is of a yellowish colour.
The pupa is long, of a brownish colour, enclosed in a cocoon
Fig. 176.—
composed of agglutinated saw-dust, the product of the
Cocoon of the
caterpillar's erosions.
Zygæna
In the middle of summer the meadows are frequented by filipendulæ.
moths, with brilliant black and velvety wings, marked with
red, which fly heavily, and only for a short time together. They remain
motionless during the great heat of the day. These are the Zygænæ, or
Burnets, of the family of the Zygænidæ. The Ram Sphinx of Geoffroy, or the
Six-spot Burnet Moth (Zygæna filipendulæ, Fig. 175), is common from the
end of June till the beginning of August. Its legs, antennæ, head, and body
are black and rather hairy; its upper wings are of a brilliant bluish green,
with six spots of a beautiful red on each, bordered by a little green. The
caterpillar is yellow, spotted with black; its cocoon is boat-shaped, with
longitudinal furrows, and is straw colour (Fig. 176).

Next to Zygæna comes Procris, the species of which fly during the day
in damp fields. We will mention particularly the Procris statices (Fig. 177),
which is plentiful enough where it occurs between the middle of June and
the middle of July, on the sides of hills. Its fore wings, antennæ, and the
whole of its body, are of a blue green above. The same wings are of the
same colour below, and the surfaces of the lower ones are of an ashy brown.

Fig. 177.—The Forester (Procris [Ino] statices)

The Sphinges, that is, those species that form the family of the
Sphingidæ, have received this general name from the attitude which their
caterpillars often assume. Raising the fore part of the body, which attitude
resembles the Sphinx of mythology, they keep for a very long time this state
of immobility. They fly very rapidly and briskly, and only make their
appearance for the most part after sunset. The caterpillars, which in this
group are without hair, and have almost always a horn on the eleventh
segment of the body, metamorphose themselves in the earth, without
forming hard cocoons. The chrysalis are sometimes enveloped in a very
slight shell, or cocoon, which when it exists is formed of particles of earth
or of vegetable débris bound together by threads. This family comprises
species generally remarkable for their size and beauty.
The genus Macroglossa contains some species which fly rapidly and for
a long time together during the day. We will mention particularly the
Humming-bird Sphinx (Macroglossa stellatarum). This moth (Fig. 178) has
attracted the attention of all who have ever spent much time in a flower
garden. In Burgundy the children call it bird-fly. In passing from one flower
to another it has brisk and rapid movements, but it remains suspended in the
air before each; it does not alight upon any, it is always flying, thrusting its
long trunk the while into the corollæ of flowers, counterbalancing the action
of its weight by the continuous vibration of its wings.

We will describe in a few words this robust inhabitant of the air, this
charming bird-fly. The Macroglossa stellatarum shows itself during the
whole of the fine season, and till the middle of autumn, in our climate. It
often penetrates in the middle of the day into our houses, and knocking itself
against the window-panes, falls an easy prey to children. Its front wings are
of an ashy brown, of changing hues above, with three black, transverse,
undulating lines. The lower, shorter than the others, are of a rusty-yellow
colour. All the wings are yellowish below near the body, ferruginous in the
middle, and of a dark brown at their extremities.

Fig. 178.—Humming-bird Hawk-Moth (Macroglossa
stellatarum).

The body is long, brown, hairy, and terminating in a tuft of divergent
hairs, reminding one of a bird's tail. It is for this reason that it has been
called by the French Sphinx Moineau, or Sparrow Sphinx. This resemblance
is so great, that Mr. Bates, in his book on the Amazons, says he often shot
species of this genus in mistake for humming-birds. The caterpillar of this

remarkable Lepidopteron (Fig. 179) is of a pale
green, with eight transversal rows of small white
dots and four longitudinal rows, of which two are
white and two yellowish. It has a dark blue horn,
with an orange-coloured tip. It lives on different
species of bed-straw, but by preference on the
Galium mollugo. Before its metamorphosis, it
encloses itself in a shapeless cocoon, made of the
Fig. 179.—Caterpillar of
débris of leaves held together by threads, and
Humming-bird Hawk-Moth
placed on the surface of the ground. The pupa
(Macroglossa stellatarum).
(Fig. 180) is of a light grey, sprinkled over with
brown dots, and striped with black. Its skin is so
thin and transparent that one can follow it through all the phases of
transformation to the imago.

Fig. 180.—Pupa of Macroglossa stellatarum.

The genus Deilephila is composed of species whose flight is rapid, and
after sunset. Such are the Deilephila euphorbiæ, the Oleander Hawk-Moth
(Deilephila [Chærocampa] nerii), and the large Elephant Hawk-Moth
(Deilephila [Chærocampa] elpenor).

Fig. 181.—Deilephila euphorbiæ.

The Deilephila euphorbiæ (Fig. 181) has the upper wings of a reddish
grey, with three spots of greenish or olive colour along the costa, or front
margin, and a broad black oblique band along the hind margin. The lower
wings are red, with the base black, and a transverse black band towards the
edge; they have, moreover, a large round white spot on the inside; beneath
the wings are red, as also is the body, which is covered above with greenish
hairs. This species is exceedingly rare here, but is plentiful on the Continent
during the months of June and September.

Fig. 182.—Larva of Deilephila euphorbiæ.

The larva (Fig. 182) is one of the most remarkable of the genus on
account of the splendour and the vividness of its colours, and appears to be
covered with varnish. It has a number of small yellow dots very close to
each other on a glossy black ground, which are ranged in circles. On each
side of the body are two longitudinal rows of spots generally of the same
colour as the dots, and a narrow band of carmine runs down the middle of
the back, and a similar band, which is intersected by yellow, is to be seen
above the legs. This caterpillar is almost always found on the Cyprus-leafed
spurge. It is found first at the end of June. Generally the chrysalis passes
through the winter, and the moth emerges in the following year.

Fig. 183.—Deilephila (Chærocampa) nerii.

The Deilephila (Chærocampa) nerii (Fig. 183), or Oleander Hawk-
Moth, is a charming species almost peculiar to hot countries, where the
shrub from which it derives its name grows spontaneously—that is to say,
in Africa, in the southern parts of Asia, in Greece, in Spain, &c. Carried
forward by its rapid flight, and assisted by atmospheric currents, these
beautiful insects sometimes come accidentally into the countries of Central
Europe. They have been met with many times in Paris, in the garden of the
Luxembourg, where the oleander is cultivated under glass. But those which
are hatched in the environs of Paris never reproduce their species, on
account of the coldness of the climate. Both larva and imago—the former
on periwinkle—have been found in the same locality.

Fig. 184.—Larva of Deilephila (Chærocampa) nerii.

The caterpillar of this species (Fig. 184) is one of those called by the
French Cochonnes, because their two first rings, which are retractile and
drawn back under the third when the insect is at rest, taper in such a way as
to resemble the snout of a pig, hence the English name "Elephant," when
they change their place or are engaged in eating. It is of a beautiful green,
with white stripes and dots on the sides, and marked on the third segment
with two large spots like eyes, of an azure blue, encircled with black, and
having white pupils. A short orange-coloured horn rises at the extremity of
the body. A few days before its transformation, this caterpillar entirely loses
its rich livery, it becomes brown on the back, and of a dirty yellow on the
rest of its body, and constructs for itself a cocoon at the foot of the shrub on
which it lived, with the débris of leaves fastened together with threads.

Fig. 185.—Pupa of Deilephila (Chærocampa) nerii.

The cocoon contains a chrysalis (Fig. 185) of a hazel brown, delicately
streaked with a darker brown, and with a very conspicuous black spot on
each of its stigmata.

The Elephant Hawk-Moth (Deilephila [Chærocampa] elpenor, Fig.
186) is not rare during the month of June. Its fore wings are purple red,
glossy above, with three bands of a light olive green, having at the base a
small black spot. The inner margin is garnished with white hairs. The hind
wings are of a dark rose colour above, with the base black, and the hind
margin bordered with white. The four wings are rose coloured below, with
the costa and the middle of an olive green; the upper ones have their interior
border tinged with a blackish colour. The body is rose colour, with two
longitudinal bands of an olive green over the abdomen, and five diverging
lines of this colour on the thorax. The sides of the abdomen have along
them a double series of yellowish points.

Fig. 186.—Deilephila (Chærocampa) elpenor.

The caterpillar of this sphinx (Fig. 187) is of a dark brown, delicately
striped with black. Two grey lines run down each side of its body, and on
the fourth and fifth segments are two black eyes bordered by light violet.
This caterpillar is found most often on certain kinds of Epilobium, but will
also eat of the vine, fuchsia, and bed-straw. It must be sought in damp
places, by streams and ponds, from the end of July till September. It
constructs on the surface of the soil a shapeless cocoon with moss and dry
leaves, which it fastens together with some silky threads. Its pupa (Fig.
188), of a yellowish brown, has short bristles on the rings of the abdomen.
The caterpillar possesses in the highest degree the retractile power which

has gained for certain species of this genus their popular names. The Privet
Sphinx (Sphinx ligustri, Fig. 189) has its upper wings rather narrow, about
two inches long, of a reddish grey, and veined with black above, with the
middle of a dark brown, the inner margin with rose-coloured hairs, and the
hind margin having two whitish flexuous lines running along it. The hind
wings are of a rose tint, with three black bands. The wings are of a reddish
grey below with a common black band. The abdomen has black and rose-
coloured rings above, and in the middle a brownish band wholly divided by
a black line.

Fig. 187.—Larva of Deilephila (Chærocampa) elpenor.

Fig. 188.—Pupa of Deilephila (Chærocampa)
elpenor.

Fig. 189.—Privet Hawk-Moth (Sphinx ligustri).

This species is very common in all parts of Europe. One finds it in
gardens from June to September. Of all the caterpillars of the genus Sphinx,
this is the one which, by its attitude when in a state of repose, most
resembles the sphinx of fable, from which the genus has derived its name. It
is of fine apple green, with seven oblique stripes, half violet and half white,
placed on each side of its body, and three or four small white spots beyond
these stripes. The stigmata are orange, the head is green, bordered with
black. The extremity of the body is surrounded by a smooth horn, black
above, yellow below (Fig. 190). This beautiful caterpillar is not rare. It lives
on a great number of trees and shrubs, but it is principally on the privet, the
lilac, and the ash tree, that it must be looked for. Three or four days before it
buries itself in the earth to change itself into a chrysalis, its beautiful
colours grow dim. During the month of June and September is found the
Convolvulus Sphinx (Sphinx convolvuli, Fig. 192), with brown wings, and
with the abdomen striped with transverse bands alternately black and red.
The caterpillar of this species, which presents a great number of varieties,
lives on many kinds of Convolvuli, but particularly on the field species. It is
generally rare here, but occasionally abundant.

Fig. 190.—Larva of the Privet Hawk-Moth (Sphinx ligustri).

Fig. 191.—Pupa of Sphinx ligustri.

It is to the genus Acherontia that a well-known moth belongs. We refer
to the Death's-head Moth (Acherontia atropos). It is the largest species of
hawk-moth. This insect presents, roughly marked out in light yellow, on the
black ground of its thorax, a human skull. This funeral symbol, joined to the
plaintive cry which this moth emits when frightened, has sometimes
inspired terror into the whole population of a country. The appearance of
this moth in certain countries having coincided with the invasion of an
epidemic disease, some thought they saw in this doleful sylph of the night
the messenger of death. The Acherontia atropos plays a great part in the
superstitions which are believed in by the country folk in England. One
hears it said in country places that this ominous inhabitant of the air is in
league with the witches, and that it goes and murmurs into their ears with its
sad and plaintive voice the name of the person whom death is soon to carry
off. In spite of its ominous livery, the Atropos does not come from Hades; it
is no envoy of death, bringing sadness and mourning. It does not bring us
news of another world; it tells us, on the contrary, that Nature can people

every hour; that it was her will to console them for their sadness, to grant to
the twilight and to the night the same winged wanderers which are at once
the delight and ornament of the hours of light and of day.

Fig. 192.—The Convolvulus Sphinx (Sphinx convolvuli).

This is the mission of science, to dissipate the thousands of prejudices
and dangerous superstitions which mislead ignorant people.

Fig. 193.—Death's-head Hawk-Moth (Acherontia atropos).

This moth has the front wings of a blackish brown colour, having lighter
irregular bands varied with brown and grey, above and below. On the
middle of the front wing there is a well-defined white dot. The hind wings
have two black bands, the upper narrower than the lower one; the rest of the
wing is a fine yellow. The abdomen has likewise from five to six yellow
and as many black bands; in the middle is a long blackish longitudinal
band. This moth is not very rare, and may be found in autumn. Its flight is
heavy, and, as we have said, the insect never flies till after sunset. If caught,
or when teased, it utters a cry which is very audible.
The death's-head hawk-moth would be a very inoffensive being if it did
not make its way into bee-hives, in order to steal the honey, of which it is
excessively fond. It is to no purpose that the bees dart their stings at the
intruder, they only blunt them against its thick skin, and soon, terrified at its
presence, disperse on all sides.

Fig. 194.—Larva of the Death's-head Hawk-Moth (Acherontia atropos).

The caterpillar of the Acherontia atropos (Fig. 194) is the largest of all
European caterpillars. It attains to as much as four and a half inches in
length by eight lines in diameter. Its colour is lemon yellow, which changes
into green on the sides and belly. From the fourth to the tenth ring
inclusively it is ornamented laterally with seven oblique bands of an azure
blue, which are tinted with violet, and bordered with white on the side.
These bands joining together over the back of each segment resemble so
many chevrons placed parallel to each other. The body is, moreover, dotted
with black. At its extremity is a yellow horn, curved back like a hook, and
covered with tubercles. The head is green, and marked laterally with a black
stripe. It lives chiefly on the potato, and the Lycium barbarum, sometimes
called the tea-tree, a shrub belonging to the Solanaceæ. It buries itself in the
earth to change into a chrysalis (Fig. 195) of a bright chestnut brown.

Fig. 195.—Chrysalis of the Death's-head Hawk-Moth.

Fig. 196.—Lime Hawk-Moth (Smerinthus tiliæ).

Fig. 197.—Larva of the Lime Hawk-Moth (Smerinthus tiliæ).

Fig. 198.—Eyed Hawk-Moth (Smerinthus ocellatus).

We will mention still further, in the family of the Sphingidæ, three
species of the genus Smerinthus, which fly heavily and by twilight.
The Lime-tree Hawk-moth (Smerinthus tiliæ, Fig. 196) has its upper
wings grey with some shades of green, and moreover, in the middle of the
wing an irregular band of a brownish green colour. The thorax, covered
with hairs, is grey, with three green longitudinal bands. The abdomen is also
grey. The moth flies heavily after sunset, and is found on the trunks of trees
during the months of May and June. The larva (Fig. 197) is glaucous green
dotted with yellow, and marked on each side with seven oblique lines of the
same colours. Its wrinkly horn is blue above and yellow below. It is found
on the lime and the elm. It buries itself at the foot of the tree on which it has
fed to change into a chrysalis without making a cocoon.

Fig. 199.—Poplar Hawk-Moth (Smerinthus populi).

We will content ourselves by here giving drawings of two other species
of the same genus: the Eyed Hawk-Moth (Smerinthus ocellatus, Fig. 198),
which is not rare during the months of May and sometimes August, the
caterpillar of which lives on the leaves of willows, poplars, and fruit-trees;
and the Poplar Hawk-Moth (Smerinthus populi, Fig. 199), whose caterpillar
(Fig. 200) lives on the poplar, the aspen, and sometimes on the willow and
birch.
The division of Bombycina contains the largest of moths, and at the
same time species of a middle and small size. These moths take no
nourishment, and live only for a short time—long enough to propagate their
species. They rarely fly during the day, only showing themselves in the
evening. The group is dispersed over nearly all parts of the world, and may
be recognised by the antennæ generally being cut like the teeth of a comb in
the males, by their thick, strong bodies, and, in the majority of cases, by
their large head, by their wings more or less large, and by their heavy flight.

Fig. 200.—Larva of the Poplar Hawk-Moth (Smerinthus populi).

In the Bombycina are found the genera Sericaria, Attacus, Bombyx,
Orgyia, Liparis, &c.
It is to the genus Bombyx that the silkworm belongs, that celebrated
insect called by Linnæus Bombyx mori, a name which reminds us at the
same time of its most ancient denomination, and of the mulberry tree, on
which these caterpillars feed.
M. Guérin-Méneville has called the silkworm "the dog of insects," for it
has been domesticated from the most ancient times, and has become
deprived of great part of its strength in the process. The moth of the
silkworm can no longer keep its position in the air, or on the leaves of the
mulberry when they are agitated by the wind. It can no longer protect itself,
under the leaves, from the burning heat of the sun and from its enemies. The
female, always motionless, seems to be ignorant of the fact that she has
wings. The male no longer flies; he flutters round his companion, without
quitting the ground. It ought, however, to be possessed in the wild state of a
sufficiently powerful flight. M. Ch. Martins found that after three
generations reared in the open air, the males recovered their lost power.
Before speaking of the different phases of the life of the silkworm and
the rearing of this precious insect, we will notice the origin and progress of

the silk trade, one of the most important branches of commerce in the South
of Europe and in the East.
The native country of the silkworm is not better known than that of the
greater number of plants and animals which form the staple of agricultural
industry. Probably, however, it was China. It was certainly in this vast
empire that long since the business of fabricating silk began. One reads the
following in "L'Histoire générale de la Chine," by M. Mailla:—
"The Emperor Hoang-ti, who lived 2,600 years before our era, wished
that Si-ling-chi, his wife, should contribute to the happiness of his people;
he charged her to study the silkworm, and to try to utilise its threads. Si-
ling-chi caused a great quantity of these insects to be collected, which she
fed herself in a place destined exclusively for the purpose; she not only
discovered the means of rearing them, but still further the manner of
winding off their silk and of employing it in the manufacture of fabrics."
It may be asked, however, if the learned men who composed this recital
did not collect under the reign of the emperor Hoang-ti all the events and all
the discoveries whose dates were lost in the obscurity of the most remote
periods of history. Is not the Empress Si-ling-chi a mythical person? a sort
of Chinese Ceres, to whom, under the title of goddess of the silkworm, they
then raised altars?
Here, at any rate, is how Duhalde[50] analyses the recital of the Chinese
annalists on the remarkable fact of the introduction of the silkworm and its
rich products into the Chinese empire:—
"Up to the time of this queen (Si-ling-chi)," says he, "when the country
was only lately cleared and brought into cultivation, the people employed
the skins of animals as clothes. But these skins were no longer sufficient for
the multitude of the inhabitants; necessity made them industrious; they
applied themselves to the manufacture of cloth wherewith to cover
themselves. But it was to this princess that they owed the useful invention
of silk stuffs. Afterwards, the empress, named by Chinese authors,
according to the order of their dynasties, found an agreeable occupation in
superintending the hatching, rearing, and feeding of silkworms, in making
silk, and working it up when made. There was an enclosure attached to the
palace for the cultivation of mulberry trees.

"The empress, accompanied by queens and the greatest ladies of the
court, went in state into this inclosure, and gathered with her own hand the
leaves of three branches which her ladies in waiting had lowered till they
were within her reach; the finest pieces of silk which she made herself, or
which were made by her orders and under her own eye, were destined for
the ceremony of the grand sacrifice offered to Chang-si. (Plate V.)
"It is probable," adds Duhalde, "that policy had more to do than
anything else with all this trouble taken by the empresses. Their intention
was to induce, by their example, the princesses and ladies of quality, and
the whole people, to rear silkworms: in the same way as the emperors, to
ennoble in some sort agriculture, and to encourage the people to undertake
laborious works, never failed, at the beginning of each spring, to guide the
plough in person, and with great state to plough up a few furrows, and in
these sow some seed.
"As far as concerns the empresses, it is a long time since they have
ceased to apply themselves to the manufacture of silk; one sees,
nevertheless, in the precincts of the imperial palace, a large space covered
with houses, the road leading to which is still called the road which leads to
the place destined for the rearing of silkworms, for the amusement of the
empresses and queens. In the books of the philosopher Mencius, is a wise
police rule, made under the first reigns, which determines the space
destined for the cultivation of mulberry trees, according to the extent of the
land possessed by each private individual."
M. Stanislas Julien[51] tells us of many regulations made by the Emperor
of China, to render obligatory the care and attention requisite to rearing silk.
Tchin-iu, being governor of the district of Kien-Si, ordered that every
man should plant fifty feet of land with mulberry trees. [52] The Emperor
(under the dynasty of Witei) gave to each man twenty acres of land on
condition that he planted fifty feet with mulberry trees.[53] Hien-tsang (who
ascended the throne in 806) ordered that the inhabitants of the country
should plant two feet in every acre with mulberry trees.[54] The first
Emperor of the dynasty of Song (who began to reign about the year 960)
published a decree forbidding his subjects to cut down the mulberry trees.
[55]

V.—The Empress Si-ling-chi gathering
Mulberry Leaves.

By all these means, according to the testimony of M. Stanislas Julien,
the business of the fabrication of silk became general in China. This great
empire soon furnished its neighbours with this precious textile material, and
created for its own profit a very important branch of commerce.
It was forbidden, under pain of death, to export from China the
silkworm's eggs, or to furnish the necessary information in the art of
obtaining the textile material. The manufactured article only could be sold
out of the empire. It was thus that the Asiatic nations very soon understood

silk; and that in many of their cities they applied themselves to weaving
stuffs of this precious substance. The carpets and dyed stuffs of Babylon,
mixed with gold and silk, enjoyed in ancient times an unparalleled renown.
China was not, however, the only country that then furnished silk to the
towns of Asia Minor. At a very distant period India sent by her caravans
very considerable quantities of it. M. Émile Blanchard (of the Institute)
remarks, however, that the tissues of India must be made of a different silk
from that of China, that is to say, of a silk of some of those Bombyces of
which the public has been told so much of late years, and of which we shall
have soon to speak.
Silk commanded for centuries a prodigiously high price. In the time of
Alexander its value in Greece was exactly its own weight in gold, and so it
was very parsimoniously employed in silk tissues. These were so
transparent that women who wore them were scarcely covered.
Silk was unknown to the Romans before Julius Cæsar. It was to him that
Rome owed its acquaintance with this new material. He introduced it,
moreover, in a singularly magnificent manner. One day, at a fête given in
the Colosseum—a combat of animals and gladiators—the people saw the
coarse tent of cloth, intended to keep off the rays of the sun, replaced by a
magnificent covering of Oriental silk. They murmured at this gorgeous
prodigality, but declared Cæsar a great man. The introduction of silk among
the Romans was the signal for luxurious expenditure. The patricians made a
great display with their silk cloaks of incalculable value; so that, from the
time of Tiberius, the Senate felt itself called upon to forbid the use of silk
garments to men. Examples of simplicity are sometimes set in high places;
thus, the Emperor Aurelian refused to the Empress Severina so costly a
dress.
The commerce in silk bore doubly hard upon Europe, both on account
of the value of the material and of the great use which was made of it.
Persia was the emporium, and had the monopoly of this merchandise. The
Emperor Justinian I., who reigned at Constantinople from A.D. 527 to 565,
tried all the means within his power of freeing his States from this ruinous
tyranny, when a circumstance occurred, very fortunately for the national
commerce, which brought about the introduction into Europe of sericulture,
or the cultivation of silk.

Two monks of the order of St. Basil, in their ardour for the propagation
of the faith, had pushed forwards into China. There they had been initiated
into the operations which furnished the fabric so highly prized. On their
return to Constantinople, and hearing of the project that Justinian
entertained of depriving the Persians of the monopoly in silk, the two
monks proposed to the Emperor to enrich his state by introducing the art of
fabricating this material. The proposition was greedily accepted, and the
two monks returned again to China, with the object of procuring the eggs of
the insect. Having arrived at the end of their journey, they succeeded in
getting possession of a quantity of silkworms' eggs. They hid them between
the knots of their sticks, and started back to their native country, without
being once interfered with. Two years afterwards they re-entered
Constantinople with their precious booty. [56] The larva were fed on
mulberry leaves. Immediately afterwards began the rearing of the worms
and the preparation of the silk, according to the instructions given by these
courageous travellers. The first broods succeeded perfectly, and so
plantations of mulberry trees were seen to multiply and spread through the
whole extent of the Eastern Empire. It was, above all, in Southern Greece
that this branch of industry assumed an immense importance. It was then
the Pelopon nesus lost its old name, and was called the Morea, from the
Latin name for "mulberry," morus. [57]
Constantinople and Greece, during centuries, furnished the whole of
Europe with silkworms. This diffusion, however, was effected very slowly.
The Greeks attached great importance to retaining the monopoly, and the
emperor Justinian had caused to be established at Constantinople itself silk
manufactories, where the most skilful artificers of Asia, who were
forbidden to reveal the various processes to strangers, worked.
Towards the beginning of the eighth century the Arabs introduced the
silkworm into Spain. But this industry remained confined within narrow
limits. It was in fact not till after the twelfth century that sericulture began
to spread throughout Europe. Roger, King of the Two Sicilies, possessing a
navy that commanded the Mediterranean, employed it chiefly in making
excursions and conquests. He ravaged Greece, and, not satisfied with the
booty he carried away from that unfortunate country, wished still further to
deprive them, for the good of his own kingdom, of the silk monopoly, the
source of their riches. Roger carried away into Sicily and Naples a great

number of prisoners, amongst whom were some weavers and men who had
devoted themselves to the rearing of silkworms. In 1169 he established
these workmen in houses adjoining his own palace at Palermo. There they
dyed the silk of different colours, and mixed it with gold, pearls, and
precious stones.
From Sicily the art of preparing silk spread over the rest of Italy. In
1204 the workers in silk constituted themselves into a syndicate at Florence.
It is not, however, till 1423—more than two hundred years after the
introduction of this branch of industry into Italy—that we find the first
mention of the cultivation of the mulberry tree in Tuscany. In 1440 each
Tuscan peasant was forced to plant at least five mulberry trees on the land
he cultivated. In 1474 the commerce in silk fabrics with all parts of the
world had become extremely prosperous at Florence. In 1314 the Venetian
manufactures began to assume much importance. Three thousand workers
in silk were then established in Venice.
Without dwelling longer on the propagation of the silk trade in Italy, let
us pass on to its establishment in France. It was in 1340 that some French
gentlemen, who had stayed some time in Naples, planted in Avignon the
first mulberry trees. [58] According to Olivier de Serres, it was not
introduced till much later into Dauphiné. It was not introduced into Alan,
near Montelimart, till 1495, by the Seigneur Guyape de Saint-Aubain. [59]
Louis XI. made great efforts to develop the silk trade in France, by inviting
over Italian workmen; and they began under his reign to fabricate silks in
Touraine and Lyons. Francis I. greatly developed the trade of Lyons. In
1554, under Henry II., the masters and men employed in the manufacture of
gold, silver, and silk in Lyons were twelve thousand in number. Under
Henry II. were planted the mulberry trees of Bourdezière, Tours,
Chenonceaux, Toulouse, and Moulins. These plantations, however, were of
very small extent. They were not the result of a general and truly popular
effort; moreover, civil war came very soon, and turned men's minds away
from the isolated attempts of some few private individuals. Sericulture, in
fact, did not assume any great importance in France till the reign of Henry
IV.
This king saw with grief considerable sums of money leaving France
each year for the purchase of raw silk or of silk stuffs. Two men
marvellously furthered his project of encouraging the silk trade. One of

these men was Barthelemy Laffemas, called Beausemblant. For a long time
he had been writing memoir upon memoir, to demonstrate the advantages to
be derived from the plantation of the mulberry tree in France; and he tells
us that silkworms were then raised with success at Nantes, at Poissy, and
even at Paris. The second supporter whom Henry IV. found in the
propagation of sericulture was a man distinguished in a very different way
from that of M. Laffemas. This was Olivier de Serres, the author of the
"Théâtre de l'Agriculture;" he whom Henry IV. called his lord and master in
agriculture. Olivier de Serres was the first among his countrymen who had
published instructions regarding the cultivation of mulberry trees and the
rearing of silkworms. Henry IV., who had noticed his writings, called him to
Paris; and, on his solicitation, caused twenty thousand mulberry trees and a
great quantity of silkworms' eggs, of which a distribution was made over
the whole of France, to be imported from Italy. From that moment,
sericulture was propagated rapidly in the Cévennes, in Provence, in
Languedoc, in Touraine, and many other provinces. Mulberry trees were
planted at Fontainebleau, in the royal park of Tournelles, and even in the
Tuileries, where an Italian lady, named Julle, reared silkworms for Henry
IV.
Notwithstanding this great impulse, sericulture dwindled away on the
death of that king. It received a fresh impulse under Colbert, the great
minister, who succeeded in creating the spirit of commerce and trade in
France. New manufactories were established, and plantations of mulberry
trees formed in many of the provinces. All this progress was suddenly
brought to a standstill by the iniquitous revocation of the Edict of Nantes,
which deprived France of her leading commercial men. Driven from their
own country, the Protestant families of the Cévennes established abroad silk
manufactories, the fabrics of which rivalled those of French production.
In the eighteenth century the intendants of the provinces tried, but with
very slight success, to give a fresh impetus to sericulture in France. The
Abbé Boissier de Sauvages published, about 1760, some works, which
prove him to have been a patient observer, an accurate reasoner, and a
clever rearer of silkworms. Boissier de Sauvages is the father of modern
silk-culture. During the first Revolution, men's minds were occupied with
graver subjects than the cultivation of the mulberry tree. But, on the return
of peace, they got to work again on all sides. In 1808, the minister Chaptal

estimated the weight of the cocoon harvest at between five or six thousand
kilogrammes; whilst the invention of the Jacquard loom gave an immense
impulse to the weaving of silk stuffs. Amongst those who introduced and
benefited the art of sericulture, we must not forget Dandolo. Dandolo, who
was born at Venice in 1758, and died in 1819, was the first who, at the
beginning of this century, applied himself seriously to the amelioration of
the processes employed in the cultivation of silk. He endeavoured to
regulate the temperature, to introduce more order into the distribution of the
food to the worms, to have more spacious premises, and to have these
properly ventilated.
Now we are on this subject, we must mention the names of those who at
the present day have rendered important services to sericulture—such as M.
Camille Beauvais, who raised silkworm rearing from the inactivity into
which it had been plunged; M. Eugène Robert, who founded in the south of
France the first successful silkworm nursery; M. Guérin-Méneville, who
has devoted his life to the study of the same question, and to whom Europe
owes the introduction and the acclimatisation of some species which will
render us, perhaps, one day very great services; and lastly, M. Robinet, who
has elucidated several practical questions in the art of sericulture. In
bringing to a close this rapid historical epitome, we will state that France
consumes annually 30,000 kilogrammes of silkworms' eggs, each
kilogramme being at the present time worth from 300 to 500 francs, and
even more. The value of manufactured silks represents annually about
8,000,000 francs; and we find by official statistics that France exported in
1863 silk stuffs to the value of 384,000,000 francs. This immense trade
shows how much silk is now-a-days everywhere appreciated; in those
numerous tissues called taffeta, satin, and velvet, each of which seems to
have a charm—a peculiar attraction. The consistency of the stuff, the
smoothness, the softness of surface, the manner in which silk receives
colours, the brightness, fineness, power of reflecting, the rustling, the light
or heavy folds,—all these are beauty, elegance, and luxury, in whatever way
these words are understood.
The Bombyx mori has, however, nothing alluring in its appearance.
Other caterpillars of the genus Bombyx have brilliant liveries; they are
adorned with spots, blue as sapphires, green as emeralds, red as rubies, but
produce threads without brightness and fineness. The humble silkworm, in a

white blouse, like a workman, has nothing brilliant in its dress, and yet it
gives to the whole world its most beautiful and gorgeous array. The body of
the silkworm is composed of thirteen distinct segments. In front are three
pairs of articulated legs, which will become later those of the moth. In the
middle and towards the posterior part, are five pairs of membranous legs,
furnished with a circle of very fine bristles, which assist the animal to hook
itself on to leaves and stalks. On the two sides of its body are eighteen
stigmata, or respiratory mouths.
The head of the silkworm is remarkable; it is scaly, horny, and formed
of one single piece. The mouth is provided with six small articulated pieces.
Below is a simple blade, the upper lip, having in its middle a hollow, into
which the animal causes the edge of the leaf it is gnawing to enter, and
holds it thus without any exertion. Underneath the lip are inserted two large
jaws, which cut the leaf as a pair of scissors. Underneath, some weaker jaws
divide the fragments, and a little organ, articulated on to each jaw, that is to
say, a palpus, pushes them back towards the mouth, and prevents the
smallest particle of the leaf from falling. And lastly, in the space comprised
between the two jaws, is an under-lip, which completely closes the mouth
below. At the extremity of this piece may be seen a little prolongation, a
sort of papilla, pierced with a hole, which is the orifice that gives issue to
the silky thread.
The organs which serve for the elaboration and emission of the silk have
a peculiar interest for us. If we dissect a silkworm under water, we succeed,
sooner or later, after having removed the outer parts, in laying bare a double
apparatus, placed along the two sides of the intestinal canal and below it.
This is the apparatus which secretes the silk; it is the double silk-bearing
gland. Each one of these glands is composed of a tube formed of three
distinct parts (Fig. 201). The part which is nearest to the tail of the worm is
a bent tube, A B C, of a thirtieth of an inch in diameter, and about nine
inches in length, twisted a great many times into irregular zig-zags. This
part of the silk-producing organ is continued in an enlarged portion, D E,
which is the reservoir of the silky matter. To the extremity, E, of this
reservoir, is attached another capillary tube, E F. These two capillary tubes,
proceeding from the two glands, unite together like two venous trunks, as
the plate shows, in one single, short canal, F, which opens in the mouth of
the worm, at its under-lip.

It is in the narrow hinder tubes that the silky matter
is formed. It collects in the swollen part, D E, which is,
properly speaking, the reservoir; and remains there in
the glutinous state. Having reached the capillary tubes,
it begins to assume consistency, and forms two threads,
which are united together at the point of junction of the
tubes, and come out through the orifice, with the
appearance of a single thread, to be conducted and
directed by the animal to those points it has selected.
It was hoped that by taking from the body of the
worm the viscous matter contained in the glands, silk
could be formed. But this hope was disappointed. It
was found possible, it is true, to take the silk out; to
draw it out into threads more or less fine; but up to this
time it has only been possible in this way to obtain a
matter which, when dried, more or less resembles
catgut, and is easily enough spoilt by water.
The viscous substance contained in the glands must Fig. 201.
then be elaborated by the insect itself. When it arrives Silk secreting
in the conduit common to the capillary tubes, under the apparatus.
form of a thread, it is impregnated with a sort of
varnish, which is poured into them from two
neighbouring glands. The varnish unites the two threads into one single
thread, and imparts to it the brilliancy of silk, and the property of resisting
the action of water. It is during the last phases of the worm's development
that the silky matter becomes abundant in the glands. At this period the
animal eats much; and it is certain that the substance to be converted is
furnished by the leaf of the tree on which the insect feeds.
In consequence of this having been remarked, some manufacturers have
attempted to obtain their silk directly from the mulberry leaf; but they only
get a bad floss or refuse silk. This is because the silk is not formed in the
mulberry leaf. The organs of insects are laboratories, in which
manipulations unknown to man are carried on, manipulations which he has
not been able to imitate.

After this rapid glance at the fundamental parts of the organism of the
silkworm, we will occupy ourselves with the natural history, properly so
called, of this insect, and with its rearing, carried on with a view to the
production of silk.
As belonging to the first part of this programme, we have to speak of
the moult, of the ages of the silkworm, of its maturity, of its mounting or
ascending season, of the formation of the cocoon, of the chrysalis, of the
moth, and the eggs.

Fig. 202. Fig. 203.
Head of the Silkworm during moulting. Position of Silkworm while moulting.

The name moult has been given to a sort of crisis during which the
renewing of the skin of larvæ takes place. When it approaches, the
silkworm changes its colour. Its robe, which was white or grey, and opaque,
becomes yellow and somewhat transparent. The head swells considerably,
especially above, and the skin becomes wrinkled (Fig. 202). The worm then
fasts, and prepares to cast its skin. It places here and there some silk threads
on the surrounding objects. It then slips under these threads, so that during
its movements the old skin which it will abandon is, so to speak, gathered
up. It then assumes a peculiar position, that represented in Fig. 203, and
remains in it in a state of immobility which has been called sleep (sommeil).
During this sleep the new skin is formed under the old. A liquid oozes
forth between the two membranes which separates them, and allows the
silkworm to leave its old skin. To effect this, the worm begins by raising its
head, and by making contortions. The old skin splits round the muzzle, or
snout, on the head and back; then by different movements the animal
emerges from its skin, which remains held up by the silken threads. The
duration of the time occupied in moulting varies with the degree of the heat
or humidity of the atmosphere; but in general the state of sleep lasts from
twelve to twenty-four hours. One hour after the crisis the worm begins
again to eat.

The ages of the silkworm are the periods of time which
elapse between one moult and another. If we observe some
silkworms when the temperature is favourable, we shall find
that there are four moults, and consequently five ages. At the Fig. 204.
first age (Fig. 204), the silkworm is black and hairy; then of a Egg and first
nut colour at the moment when the first moult is going to take age.
place. "The appearance presented by these worms collected
together on a leaf," says Dandolo, "is that of a downy surface of a dark
chestnut colour, in the midst of which one sees nothing but a movement of
little animals having their heads raised, working them about, and presenting
black, shiny muzzles. Their bodies are completely covered with hairs
arranged in straight lines, between which one perceives along the whole
length of the body other longer hairs." [60]

Fig. 205. Fig. 206. Fig. 207.
Second age. Third age. Fourth age.

The first age lasts for five days. At the second (Fig. 205), the worm is
grey, almost without down, then of a yellowish white, and one sees the
crescents making their appearance on the second and fifth segment. At the
third age (Fig. 206), there is not a single hair remaining, and the worm
becomes whitish, and is always becoming lighter. The third age lasts six
days, as does also the fourth (Fig. 207). At the fifth (Fig. 208), the worm
has very nearly reached the end of its career in the caterpillar state, and now
is the time of its greatest voracity. This age is the longest; it lasts nine days.
At each of these periods in the life of the silkworm may be remarked a
physiological fact to which has been given the name of frèze. When the
silkworm has just moulted it eats little, but the time very soon arrives when
it does so with extraordinary avidity. It is indeed insatiable. The frèze of the
last age is called the grande frèze. It takes place about the seventh day.
During this day worms, the produce of thirty grammes [61] of eggs, consume
in weight as much as four horses, and the noise which their little jaws make
resembles that of a very heavy shower of rain. It is at the end of this stage

that the insect prepares the shelter in which is to be brought about its
metamorphosis into a chrysalis.

Fig. 208.—Fifth age.

A little while before this it ceases to eat, turns yellow, and becomes as
transparent as a grape. It is now said to have reached its maturity. Up to this
moment the worm had never tried to leave its litter. It lived a sedentary life,
and never thought of wandering away from its food. Now it is seized with
an imperious desire for changing its quarters. It gets up, it roams about, and
moves its head in all directions to find some place to cling on to. It walks
over everything within its reach, particularly over those obstacles which are
placed vertically. It aspires, not to descend, like the heroes of classic
tragedy, but to rise. It is for this reason that this period of the silkworm's life
has received the name of the mounting or ascending season. It now looks
for a convenient place in which to establish its cocoon. Every one has
remarked how the animal sets to work to accomplish its task. It begins by
throwing from different sides threads destined for fixing the cocoon; this is
what we call refuse silk. The proper space having been circumscribed by
this means, the worm begins to unwind its thread—a continuous thread of
about a thousand mètres long.
It has been calculated, let us say by the way, that forty thousand cocoons
would suffice to surround the earth at the equator with one thread of silk.
Folded on itself almost like a horse-shoe, its back within, its legs without,
the worm arranges its thread all round its body, describing ovals with its
head. It approximates gradually the points of attachment of the thread. As
long as the cocoon is not very thick one can watch it through the meshes of
the web applying and fixing its thread, still to a certain degree soft, in such
a manner as to make it adhere closely to the parts already formed.
"We can state," says M. Robinet, "that the silkworm makes every
second a movement extending over about five millimètres. The length of
the threads being known, it follows that the worm moves its head three

hundred thousand times in making its cocoon. If it employs seventy-two
hours at its work, it is a hundred thousand movements every twenty-four
hours, four thousand one hundred and sixty-six an hour, and sixty-nine a
minute, that is to say, a little more than one a second."
About the fourth day, after having expended all its silk, [62] the worm
shut up in the cocoon becomes of a waxy white colour, and swollen in the
middle of its body. The abdominal legs wither away; the six fore legs
approach each other and become black. The parts of the mouth tend
downwards; the skin wrinkles. Very soon it is detached and pushed down
towards the hinder part, and the chrysalis appears under the rents in the
skin. It is at first white, but speedily becomes of a brown red.
The silkworm remains in general from fifteen to seventeen days in the
pupa state. At the moment of hatching, the moth begins by breaking the skin
in which it is shut up, and which is pretty thin. But how can it come out of
the silky prison which it has itself built? To effect this it makes use of a
peculiar liquid contained in a little bladder with which its head is provided,
and which was discovered by M. Guérin-Méneville. It moistens the cocoon
with this liquid; which soaks through and penetrates the whole thickness of
the silken wall which confines it. The threads of silk of which it is
composed are moistened and disunited, but not broken. The moth opens a
passage for itself through the threads thus separated, and makes its
appearance in the light of day. Its wings are folded back on themselves, and
it is still quite wet, but it seeks immediately for a good place in which to dry
itself, and in a little time assumes its final appearance (Figs. 209, 210). The
female (Fig. 210) has whitish wings, the antennæ only slightly developed
and pale, the abdomen voluminous, cylindrical, and well filled. It is quiet,
heavy, and stationary. The male is smaller; its wings are tinged with grey, its
antennæ blackish; it moves about, beats its wings together, and is lively and
petulant.
Before laying her eggs, the female looks out for a place suitable for this
purpose. When she has found this place, she ejects an egg covered with a
viscous liquid, which causes it to adhere to the body upon which it falls.
Very soon she lays a second egg by the side of the first, then a third by the
side of the second, and so on. She very rarely piles them up on each other.
The laying lasts about three days; the number of eggs is from 300 to 700 for
each female. These eggs are generally tentacular and flattened towards the

centre. At the moment at which they
are laid they are of a bright yellow. In
a week they become brown. The
colour changes then to a reddish
grey; lastly it becomes of a slaty
grey, remaining this colour during
the autumn, winter, and a great part
Fig. 253.—Silkworm Moth (Bombyx mori),
of the spring. Then as the
male.
temperature rises, the colour of the
eggs passes successively through
bluish, violet, ashy, and yellowish
shades. And, lastly, they become
more and more whitish every day as
the hatching time approaches.
If looked at closely, one remarks
a black spot and a brownish crescent
extending along the circumference.
The black spot is the head of the
worm, which closely touches the
shell; the crescent is the body, which
is already covered with little hairs.
Fig. 210.—Silkworm Moth (Bombyx mori),
When it leaves the egg, the silkworm
female.
gnaws through the shell on its side,
never on its flat surface. When the
opening is large enough, it breaks out through it, head foremost, and
immediately fixes a thread of silk to any object it can reach, no doubt in
order to prevent itself from falling. Sometimes the opening is too small to
allow of the head passing out, and the larva is forced to come out
backwards, that is to say, tail foremost. At times, not being able to get its
head free, the poor animal very soon dies of fatigue and hunger.

VI.—A Silkworm rearing Establishment.

We will now give a summary of the rearing of the silkworm, that is to
say, of the attention which must be paid to this insect that it may construct
its cocoon advantageously. We will call to our aid in this very rapid
summary the works or notices of MM. Robinet, Guérin-Méneville, Eugène
Robert, and Louis Leclerc, and we must not forget the excellent and
classical Dandolo. [63]
When it is desired to rear silkworms—magnans, as they were called in
old French, and as they are still called in the patois of Languedoc—the first
thing to do is to obtain good eggs, good grain, to use the technical word,
and then to choose suitable premises. The essential, the fundamental point,
in the rearing, is to possess premises in which the air is easily renewed. The
worms should have as much air as possible given to them without ever
being allowed to be chilled. There is no better means of attaining this end
than by keeping a constant open fire in a room, and by letting air into the

room from another chamber which separates it from the open air. One has,
in this way, the best workroom for a small rearing.
In the workshop are arranged racks, by the aid of which are placed, at
the distance of 50 centimètres from each other, frames made of reeds. These
frames, or canisses, as they are called in the Cévennes, may be from 1
mètre to 1¾ mètres in breadth. They should be placed in such a manner that
one can easily pass round them to place and remove the worms, and to
distribute their leaves to them uniformly. They should be protected by a
small border of a few centimètres in height, to prevent the worms from
falling. And lastly, they should be covered at the bottom with large sheets of
paper. (Plate VI.) A provident silkworm-rearer has always at his disposal a
cellar or cool room, so as to be able to stow away his leaves as soon as they
are brought in from the country.
What we have just said applies especially to a small rearing. In large
establishments, or even those of second-rate importance, everything is in
advance of this, and mathematically regulated: aspect and arrangement of
rooms, furniture of these rooms, warming, ventilation, &c. So, for a rearing
house for 300 grammes of eggs, the building should be constructed in such
a manner that its front and back look east and west, to avoid any inequality
in the heat derived from the sun. It ought to consist of a ground-floor, a very
lofty first-floor, and of a rather low roof. The ground-floor comprises the
chamber of incubation, the store-room for leaves, and the air-chamber with
the grate intended for warmth and ventilation. The first-floor constitutes the
rearing-room properly so called.
But let us leave these grand industrial establishments, to return to our
rearing houses on a small scale, such as are found among the peasants of the
Cévennes. They generally receive the silkworms' eggs before the end of the
winter. In order to preserve them till the hatching season, they are placed in
thin layers, in a piece of folded woollen stuff, which must be hung up in a
cool, but not a damp place, exposed to the north. As soon as the buds of the
mulberry tree begin to be partially open, they proceed to the incubation of
the eggs. They are spread out on sheets of paper, in very thin layers, placed
on a table in a room having a southern aspect, and left thus during three or
four days, taking care to prevent the rays of the sun from touching them. It
is necessary also, from time to time, to open the windows. After three or
four days, the fire is lighted, taking care not to have more heat than 13°

Centigrade round about the table which supports the eggs, and which
should be placed as far as possible from the fire. Each day the room is
warmed a little more, in such a way that the temperature is raised 1° to 2° a
day, until 25° Centigrade of heat have been attained, at which temperature it
is to be maintained when the eggs have reached the last stage, and till the
hatching is terminated. On the first day few worms are hatched; but the
hatching of the second day is very abundant, as also that of the third. Of
these newly-born worms two divisions are made, separated by an interval of
twenty-four hours. The worms which are born afterwards are thrown away,
unless they are so abundant that they can be made a third batch of, which is
to be mixed up with the second at the period of the moult.
In the large rearing houses there is a special chamber for the incubation.
Various simple, convenient, cheap apparatuses, whose main object is to
create a permanent warm and damp atmosphere, whose degree of heat can
be regulated at will, have been proposed. M. Louis Leclerc, in his pamphlet
entitled "Petite Magnanerie," has given a description and drawing of a little
box which is very useful for facilitating the hatching of eggs. We refer those
of our readers who wish for further information on the subject to that work.
As soon as the worms are hatched, the eggs are covered with net, and over
this are placed mulberry boughs, covered with tender leaves, on which all
the little worms congregate. They are then lifted up with a hook made of
thin wire, and the worms are placed on a table covered with paper, leaving a
proper space between each. They are given, as their first meal, tender leaves
cut into little pieces with a knife. These are the operations gone through for
the two raisings of worms on the second and third day of the hatching.
During this first age they give them from six to eight meals a day, taking
care to distribute their food to them as equally as possible. The first meal is
given at five o'clock in the morning; the last at eleven or twelve o'clock at
night.
When the moult is approaching, the young ones are made to climb on to
boughs having tender leaves, so that they can be moved to litters as thin and
clean as possible, and there sleep in a good state of health. When the mass
of worms is well awake again, the next thing to do is to take them off the
litter on which they moulted, and to give them food. If this problem were
proposed to a person strange to the operation which is now occupying our
attention—to separate the worms from the faded and withered food upon

which they are reposing, without touching them—he would certainly be
very much at a loss what to answer. The solution of this problem presented
for a long time great difficulties, and occasioned numerous reverses in the
rearing. Now-a-days, thanks to the employment of a net, the délitement, or
taking them off their bed, has become an easy operation.
Over the worms, placed on a table, is spread a net, the meshes of which
are broad enough to allow them to pass through. On this net are spread the
leaves which are to compose a meal. The worms immediately leave the old
food, and get on to the new leaves. They then lift the litter with the worms,
and throw away the old leaves, now unoccupied, clean the table, and
replace the net with the worms. At the next délitement the first net is found
under the litter. Figs. 211 and 212 represent two forms of these nets made of
thread.
Thread nets, which were of great use, have been supplanted lately, with
great advantage, by paper ones, which were invented by M. Eugène Robert.
These are leaves of paper, of a peculiar manufacture, pierced with holes
proportioned to the size of the worms which are to pass through them. The
paper net can be used advantageously also for separating the worms that are
too near together, or, as they say, for the dédoublement. Formerly, the
délitement and the dédoublement were done by hand—a tedious work, and
one that presented serious disadvantages. Now-a-days, as we have seen, the
worms themselves perform these two perilous operations.
At the second age they still cut the leaves for the worms, but into larger
pieces, and proportioned to their size. During the day the temperature of the
room ought to be kept to 21° Centigrade, but it may be lowered by 1° or 2°
during the night. Towards the end of this age they have only four meals.
When the worms are on the point of going to sleep, their meals are
decreased.

Fig. 211.—Lozenge-shaped net. Fig. 212.—Square net.

During the third age the number of the meals is kept to four, the first
being given towards five o'clock in the morning, and the last between ten
and eleven o'clock at night. The leaf is cut into much larger pieces, and
distributed as equally as possible. The délitement and the dédoublement are
proceeded with as in the preceding age. One begins to find pretty often
during this period of the life of worms, some luisettes—that is to say,
worms which have not strength enough to moult. They are larger than those
just woke up, and that have not as yet eaten, and are shiny. They must be
carefully removed, for they will not be long before they die, and infect the
air of the room.
During the fourth age they no longer cut the leaves, but give them a
great deal more at once. The result is that the litters increase in thickness,
and that the délitement must be performed oftener; for the rest, four meals
are always necessary. Many luisettes may be seen during the fourth age.
The moult which follows the fourth age is the most critical phase in the life
of the silkworm. During their sleep they are a prey to acute suffering, and
are plunged into a state of lethargy which resembles death. The dryest and
cleanest litters diffuse very soon a sickly smell. This moult lasts from thirty-
six to forty-eight hours. During this time the room should be kept to at least
22° Centigrade.
When they awake out of this last sleep the attendant should continually
be on his guard, as it is then that diseases break out. The worms suffering
from these different diseases have received different names. There are
besides the luisettes the arpians—that is to say, worms that have exhausted

all their energy in the work of the last moult, and have not even strength to
eat—the yellow, or fat worms, which are swollen, of a yellowish colour, and
which very easily die; the flats or mous, the soft or indolent ones which,
after having eaten a great deal and become very fat, die miserably, and enter
into a state of putrefaction. And lastly, it is at this age that the muscardine,
which hardly shows itself at any other age of the insect, appears with great
intensity.
The muscardine is a terrible scourge to the rearers of silkworms. The
losses which result from this disease in France are estimated at at least one-
sixth of the profits. No particular symptom allows of our recognising the
existence of this disease in worms which, however, contain its germ; only,
the worm, which has eaten up to that time as usual, appears almost in a
moment to change to a duller white; its movements become slower, it
becomes soft, and is not long before it dies. Seven or eight days after its
death it becomes reddish and completely rigid. Twenty four hours
afterwards a white efflorescence shows itself round the head and rings, and
soon after the whole body becomes floury. This flour is a fungus called
Botrytis bassiana, of which the mycelium develops itself in the fatty tissue
of the caterpillar, attacks the intestines, and fructifies on the exterior. This
fungus has been considered as the immediate cause of the muscardine, and
has been also regarded as the last symptom or end of the disease. The
communication of the disease by contagion has alternately been admitted
and denied. As its true cause, and any efficacious means of opposing it, are
still unknown, the breeders of silkworms must be content to apply—so as to
prevent or struggle against this dreadful scourge—the precepts of hygiene:
good ventilation, excessive cleanliness, frequent délitements, and good food
properly prepared.
After the muscardine, we must mention another epidemic disease still
more terrible, the gattine. This disease shows itself from the very beginning
of the rearing, and increases in intensity at each age, so that the number of
worms able to enter regularly into the moult becomes smaller and smaller.
We are still in a state of utter ignorance as to the cause of this last affection,
which has occasioned, for the last ten years, incalculable losses in the
rearing houses, which threatens the silkworm with complete destruction,
and which in the meanwhile has ruined the unfortunate countries of the
Cévennes, the principal seat of sericulture in France.

During the fifth age, the worms become large so quickly that on the fifth
or sixth day they are obliged to be moved away from each other on the
litter. The délitement must be made every two days, or indeed, every day
now, on account of the enormous amount of the excrement; and, at the same
time, a good ventilation must be constantly maintained. The temperature of
the room should now be kept to 24°, without ever exceeding this degree of
heat. When it is perceived that the worms wish to ascend, or mount, there
are placed on the tables, at certain distances from each other, little sprigs of
heather or very dry branches of light wood.

Fig. 213.—Sprigs of heather arranged so that
Silkworms may mount into them.

When the worms begin to mount into the heather, one must encabaner
—that is to say, form with these branches little hedges, curved back like a
hut or cradle, the openings of which are, on an average, seventeen inches or
so (Fig. 213). At the expiration of twenty-four hours all the good worms
have mounted. The laggards who remain under the cabanes are taken off by
hand, and placed on a table, which is immediately encabanea.
The cocoons spun on these branches of heather ought to be large, heavy,
and well-shaped. The good cocoons are regular; their ends are rounded and
not pierced; and they are hard, especially at their extremities, and have a
fine grain. They are cylindrical. The best are drawn in towards the middle,
or have a concavity on either side of it (Fig. 215). Every one knows that
there are white and yellow cocoons. They are the produce of different races
of worms.
Commerce recognises two kinds of white silk: the first white and the
second white. The silk of the first white is produced by the race Sina, the
cocoons of which are of a perfect and azured white. They produce the most
beautiful and most precious silk, and serve for the fabrication of light and

delicate coloured tissues. The silk of the second white is furnished by two
races: the Espagnolet and the Roquemaure.

Fig. 214.—Spherical cocoon Fig. 215.—Cocoon of Bombyx mori,
of the Bombyx mori. drawn in towards the middle.

The races that produce yellow cocoons are more numerous than the
white ones. The yellow races are divided into three groups: those that have
small, middle-sized, or large cocoons. The first and second are stronger, and
more esteemed than the last.
The greater number of the races of silkworms have, let us here mention,
white and yellow cocoons; there are some, however, whose cocoons are of a
greenish white, or even quite green, or of a reddish green. One race, raised
in Tuscany, near Pistoia, has cocoons of a pale rose colour; and, lastly,
mention has been made of cocoons of a purple colour.

Fig. 216.—Larva, pupa, cocoon, and moth of
Bombyx mori.

When the cocoons are completed, the people in charge of the rearing
establishments separate them from the heather and sell them to the silk-
spinners. But they must manage to get these cocoons into a state in which
they will remain entire during a long time. They must, in other words, kill
the chrysalis, to prevent the cocoons being pierced by the moth. To kill the
chrysalis so as to prevent the development of the imago is an operation
which is called the étouffage, or stifling.
To effect this stifling, the cocoons are exposed to a high temperature.
Formerly, in the Cévennes, the cocoons were placed in a baker's oven,
heated for baking bread. But they ran the risk thus of being burnt, or of a
certain number of chrysalides remaining alive. Now, to kill the chrysalides,

they make use of steam at 100°, produced
by water boiling in a vessel, and which
passes through wicker baskets filled with
cocoons.
The rearer must also take care at the
time he gathers them, to separate the
cocoons which are to provide eggs for the
next year. As the female cocoons are
heavier than the male cocoons, they are
easily separated by weighing them in a
pair of scales.
To obtain the eggs, or grain, the
cocoons are fixed on sheets of brown
paper, covered with a slight coating of
paste made of flour. They are arranged in
such a manner that the moths shall find
no obstacle when they come out of them,
head foremost; and, moreover, so that
they may be able to reach with their legs Fig. 217.—Apparatus for stifling the

the cocoon which is opposite them, so as chrysalides in the cocoons.

to hang on to it, and to facilitate their exit
from their own cocoon (Fig. 218). The male and female cocoons are pasted
on separate sheets.
It is from fifteen to twenty
days after the montée, or
mounting, and when the
temperature of the rooms has
been kept between 20° and 25°,
that the moths begin to be
hatched. As they appear, they are
seized by the wings and placed on
cloths stretched out for the
purpose, where they are left for
about an hour, till their wings
have fallen flat on their bodies. As
Fig. 218.—Sheet of paper with rows of cocoons
soon as they have evacuated a red

prepared for the exit of the moths destined for liquor, the males and females,
laying eggs. which up to that time have been
apart, are put together.
They then stick sheets of
paper on to screens, putting from
twenty-five to thirty females on
each sheet (Fig. 219). It is here
the moths lay their eggs. The
sheets of paper, covered with
eggs, are then hung on wires, at a
small distance from the ceiling of
a room having a northern aspect,
which is never warmed. They
remain thus, exposed to all
Fig. 219.—Sheets of paper stuck into screens, variations of temperature, till the
and inclined for the reception of moths. return of the warm weather. We
will say a few words, to bring this
subject to an end, on the winding of cocoons and the spinning of silk.
The winding of cocoons is an operation which at first sight appears very
simple, but which is in reality a difficult and delicate process. It requires
unremitting attention, great experience, and a delicacy of touch which can
only be found in the fingers of woman, or rather, in the fingers of certain
women.
The woman who is spinning, stands before a sort of loom which is
called tour (Fig. 220). Under her hand is a copper containing water, which
she heats to the required degree by opening the tap of a tube, which brings a
current of steam. She plunges the cocoons into the hot water, and moves
them about in it, to soften the gummy substance which sticks the silken
threads of the cocoon together. Then she beats them, with a light hand, with
a small birch-broom. The threads of the cocoons get caught in the
extremities of the twigs of which the little broom is made, and the
workwoman seizes with her fingers the bundle of threads, and shakes them
about till she perceives that they are all single, and in a fit state to be joined
together.

Fig. 220.—Silk-winding Establishment.

Let us suppose that it is wished now to make up a brin, or staple, by
uniting together the ends of five cocoons. She chooses five ends in the
mass, makes of these a bundle, and introduces it into the hole of a filière.
She makes two staples (brins) at once, one on her right, the other on her left
hand. She then brings them together, she crosses them, rolls them, and
twists them, the one on the other, several times; after which, she separates
them from above and keeps them well apart, making each of them pass into
a hook at a distance, from which they are going to twist round into a hank,
separately, on a wheel. The two threads thus twisted are drawn close
together, compressed, and become one, getting round by rolling on each
other, and being kept in continual motion, drawn out as they are by the
rapid motion of the wheel.
The difficulty which the emptying the cocoon of its silk thread presents,
makes us understand what difficulties those manufacturers must have met
with who have lately attempted to extract from the stalks of mulberry leaves
a sort of silk. We will enter into no details of the attempts which have been
made to accomplish this object in our time, attempts which have, however,
been crowned with no success whatever. We will confine ourselves to
reminding the reader that these attempts are far from being of recent
origination, since they date back to as far as Olivier de Serres, the father of
French sericulture.

In a little work published by Olivier de Serres, in 1603, under the title of
Cueillette de la Soie, "The Gathering of Silk," we find a memoir entitled:
La second richesse du mûrier, qui se trouve en son escorce, pour en faire
des toiles de toute sorte, non moins utile que la soie provenant d'icelui,
"The second wealth of the mulberry tree which is found in its bark, how to
make of it cloth of all sorts, not less useful than the silk derived from this
tree." Olivier de Serres proves in this memoir that the second bark, or liber,
of the mulberry tree contains a fibre capable of replacing hemp or flax, and
he describes the processes by which this may be obtained. The processes
which had been proposed by Olivier de Serres in 1603, were resumed in the
Cévennes a dozen years ago by M. Duponchel on the one hand, and on the
other by M. Cabanis, [64] who operated on the bark instead of taking the
whole of the wood of the mulberry tree. But none of these attempts have
given any good results up to the present moment.
The various diseases which for the last fifteen years have been so fatal
to the mulberry silkworm, have suggested the idea of acclimatis ing in
Europe other silk-producing Bombyces, if not with the view of superseding,
at least as auxiliaries to the mulberry species. The genus Attacus has
furnished these auxiliaries. Among the species which have, in this respect,
the greatest claims to our attention, we must place in the first rank those
which feed upon the leaves of the oak tree. Indeed, the trees which can be
made use of for their cultivation are very numerous in Europe, and,
moreover, the silk produced by these worms appears to possess superior
qualities.
There are three oak-feeding species of the genus Attacus. They are
Yama-Maï, Pernyi, and Mylitta.

Fig. 221.—Larva of Attacus (Bombyx) Yama-Maï.

The silk of Yama-Maï is as bright as that of the mulberry silkworm, but
a little less fine and strong, and occupies the first rank after it. If we could
succeed in acclimatising this species it would supply any deficiency there
might be in our crops of ordinary silk.
The eggs of the Attacus Yama-Maï were brought from Japan—where
this worm is reared—conjointly with the mulberry silkworm, in 1862. The
larvæ hatched at Paris, in 1863, were green, of a great size, remained in that
state eighty-two days, and were easily reared. Their cocoon resembles that
of the mulberry species. It is composed of a beautiful silk of a silvery
whiteness in the interior, and of a more or less bright green on the exterior.
The moth is very large and beautiful, of a bright yellow colour, approaching
orange.
We give a drawing of the Attacus Yama-Maï, taken from the plates
which accompany M. Guérin-Méneville's memoir. [65]

Fig. 222.—Cocoon of Attacus (Bombyx) Yama-Maï.

Fig. 223.—Attacus (Bombyx) Yama-Maï.

Fig. 221 represents the larva, or caterpillar, two-thirds natural size; Fig.
222, the cocoon, drawn on the same scale; and Fig. 223, the moth.
In 1866, M. Camille Personnat published a very interesting monograph
of Yama-Maï, which may be consulted with profit by both cultivators of silk
and naturalists. [66]
Attacus pernyi yields a remarkably beautiful silk, fine, strong, and
brilliant, which can be spun and dyed with great ease. The tissues obtained
from it partake of the qualities of ordinary silk, of wool, and of cotton. This
species of Attacus, which is reared on the oak in Mandchouria, has given
rise to great hopes in France. The cocoons and moths of this worm were
exhibited for the first time at the Universal Exhibition of 1855. They were
reared by M. Jordan, of Lyons, from some cocoons sent over from China by
the missionaries. It is much to be desired that this species may be
acclimatised in Europe.

Fig. 224.—Cocoon of Attacus (Bombyx) pernyi.

Figs. 224 and 225 represent, after drawings in the Memoir of M.
Guérin-Méneville, already referred to, the cocoon and moth of the Attacus
pernyi.
The silk which Attacus Mylitta produces is perhaps superior to that of
Pernyi. When the cocoons are properly prepared, the silk can with ease be
wound off from one end of them to the other. This worm is found in various
parts of Bengal and of Calcutta, and also at Lahore, and its silk is exported
in considerable quantities under the name of tusseh. Brownish stuffs are
made of it in India of firm and bright texture, which are used for summer
clothing, or for covering furniture.

Fig. 225.—Attacus (Bombyx) pernyi.

Figs. 226 and 227 represent the moth and the cocoon of Attacus Mylitta
after M. Guérin-Méneville.

Fig. 226.—Attacus (Bombyx) Mylitta.

In 1855 M. de Chavannes reared this species in the open air, near
Lausanne, in Switzerland. This treatment succeeded perfectly, without any
degeneration, for many years. It, however, died out at last, from the effects,
perhaps, of too great a difference in the climate, or from those accidents,
still so little understood, to which even the insects of our own country are
subject. This was unfortunate, as this species is one of those whose
acclimatisation in Europe is the most to be desired, for it would render great
service to the cultivators of silk.
It remains for us to speak of two other species, which are very
important, inasmuch as their domestication in Europe is now an
accomplished fact. We mean the Attacus or Bombyx of the Ailanthus, and
also that of the Castor-oil plant.

Fig. 227.—Cocoon of Attacus (Bombyx) Mylitta.

Every one has heard of the Ailanthus silkworm (Attacus [Bombyx]
Cynthia), whose acclimatisation in Europe has been materially assisted by

the admirable and persevering efforts of M. Guérin-Méneville.
The Ailanthus worm is a native of Japan and of the north of China. It
was brought over in 1858 by Annibale Fantoni, and sent to M. Guérin-
Méneville by MM. Griseri and Colomba, of Turin. When it is nearly full-
grown it is emerald green, with the head, the feet, and the last segment of a
beautiful golden yellow, and has black spots on each segment. This worm,
in its full-grown state, is represented by Fig. 228; in the same figure are also
represented the eggs and the cocoon. The moth has the abdomen yellowish
underneath, with little white tufts. Its wings are traversed by a white band,
which is followed exteriorly by a line of a bright rose; each wing is also
marked by a lunula or crescent-shaped spot.
In 1858 M. Guérin-Méneville presented to the Académie des Sciences
of Paris the first moths and the first eggs laid in France of the Attacus
Cynthia. This able entomologist demonstrated very soon afterwards—1st,
that the caterpillars of this insect can be reared in the open air, and with
scarcely any cost for management; 2ndly, that it produces two crops a year
in the climate of Paris and the north of France; 3rdly, that the cultivation of
the Ailanthus, or the false Japan varnish tree, on which this insect lives, is
easy even in the most sterile soil.

Fig. 228.—Eggs, larvæ, and cocoons of Attacus (Bombyx) Cynthia.

M. Guérin-Méneville showed still further that ailantine, the textile
matter furnished by the cocoon of the Cynthia, is a sort of floss silk holding
a middle place between wool and the silk of the mulberry-tree worm, and
which, as it can be produced at scarcely any expense, would be very cheap,
and would serve for the fabrication of what are called fancy stuffs, for
which ordinary floss silk is now used. In 1862 M. Guérin-Méneville sent in
a Report to the Minister of Agriculture on the progress of the cultivation of
the Ailanthus, and of the breeding of the silkworm, which was reared in the
open air on this tree. He mentions, in his Report, the rapid development of
the cultivation of the tree in France, the great number of eggs of the
Ailanthus silkworm sold, the foundation of a model silkworm nursery at
Vincennes, and, this one great point gained, that they had found out the way
of unwinding the silk from the cocoons of the Cynthia in one unbroken and
continuous thread.

Till then European industry had only succeeded in drawing from the
cocoons of the Ailanthus silkworm a floss silk, composed of filaments more
or less short, obtained by carding, and unable to produce, when twisted,
anything better than floss, that is to say, refuse silk. It is to the Countess de
Vernéde de Corneillan, on the one hand, and to Doctor Forgemot on the
other, that the merit is due of having obtained an unbroken thread of silk
from the cocoon of Attacus Cynthia.
A monograph on the Ailanthus silkworm appeared in 1866 under the
title, "L'Ailante et son Bombyx, par Henri Givelet." [67] It is a complete
account of all the results obtained up to the time, both as regards the rearing
of the silkworm and also as regards the cultivation on a large scale of the
Ailanthus, or false Japan varnish tree. [68]
The Castor-oil Plant Silkworm (Attacus [Bombyx] ricini) is a species
very nearly akin to the Ailanthus worm, perhaps only a variety, and comes
from India. The silk which it produces is very similar in every respect to
that of the Cynthia. The rearing of this worm could never attain to any great
importance in France, on account of the necessity there is of renewing the
plantations of the castor-oil plant each year. It would, however, afford an
additional source of income to the farmers in the south of France, who
cultivate the castor-oil plant with a view to selling its seeds, which are much
used in pharmacy.
Nearly allied to the genus Attacus, which furnishes us with all these
precious auxiliaries to the mulberry silkworm, are a great number of other
species, both indigenous to Europe and exotic, mostly remarkable for their
great size, and a few of which are common in this country.
Fig. 229 is the largest European moth, but never found farther north
than the latitude of Paris. Its wings are brown, waved, and variegated with
grey. Each of them has a large black eye-shaped spot, surrounded by a
tawny circle, surmounted by one white semicircle, and by another of a
reddish hue, the whole completely enclosed in a black circle. "These
moths," says Geoffroy, "are very large; they look as if they were covered
with fur, and, when they fly, one is inclined to take them for birds."

Fig. 229.—Saturnia pavonia-major.

Saturnia pavonia-major comes from a very large caterpillar, which is of
a beautiful green, with tubercles of turquoise blue, each of which is
surmounted by seven stiff divergent hairs. This caterpillar lives principally
upon the elm, but it feeds also upon the leaves of the pear, plum, and other
trees. It spins a brown cocoon, formed of a coarse silk of great strength. It is
not until the following spring that it becomes a moth.
The Emperor Moth (Saturnia carpini, Fig. 230) much resembles the
above, except in size. This species is common in England, and its green
larva, covered with black or pink warts, from which spring hairs, as in the
last, is by no means rare on heath in the autumn. It also feeds on bramble
and other plants.

Fig. 230.—Emperor Moth (Saturnia carpini).

Among the Attaci foreign to Europe, we must mention Atlas (Fig. 231),
the expanse of whose wings exceeds four and a quarter inches. This
magnificent moth, one of the largest known, comes from China.
The family Bombycidæ comprises many species which we must not
omit to mention.
The Lackey (Bombyx neustria) derives its name from the colour of the
caterpillar, which has longitudinal lines of various colours, and a blue head.
These caterpillars live together on a great number of our forest and garden
trees, to which they do much damage. The moth (Fig. 232) has a brownish
body, and wings of a more or less tawny yellow colour, with two darker
lines on the front wings.
The Procession Moth (Bombyx processionea) is a small greyish moth,
the caterpillars of which live in numerous troops on oak trees, and devour
the leaves at the moment of their development. In the evening these
caterpillars come out of their common nest, and form a sort of procession;
hence their name Procession Moth. "I kept some for a little time in my
house in the country," says Réaumur. "I brought an oak branch which was
covered with them into my study, where I could much better follow the
order and regularity of their march than I could have done in the woods. I

was very much amused and pleased at watching them for many days. I hung
the branch on which I had brought them against one of my window shutters.
When the leaves were dried up, when they had become too hard for the
jaws of the caterpillars, they tried to go and seek better food elsewhere. One
set himself in motion, a second followed at his tail, a third followed this
one, and so on. They began to defile and march up the shutter, but being so
near to each other that the head of the second touched the tail of the first.
The single file was throughout continuous; it formed a perfect string of
caterpillars of about two feet in length, after which the line was doubled.
There two caterpillars marched abreast, but as near the one which preceded
them as those who were marching in single file were to each other. After a
few rows of our processionists who were two abreast, came the rows of
three abreast; after a few of these came those which were four abreast; then
there were those of five, others of six, others of seven, others of eight
caterpillars. This troop, so well marshalled, was led by the first. Did it halt,
all the others halted; did it again begin to march, all the others set
themselves in motion, and followed with the greatest precision.... That
which went on in my study goes on every day in the woods where these
caterpillars live.... When it is near sunset you may see one caterpillar
coming out of any of the nests, by the opening which is at the top, which
would hardly afford space for two to come out abreast. As soon as it has
emerged from the nest, it is followed by many others in single file; when it
has got about two feet from the nest, it makes a pause, during which those
who are still in the nest continue to come out; they fall into their ranks, the
battalion is formed; at last the leader sets off marching again, and all the
others follow him. That which goes on in this nest takes place in all the
neighbouring nests; all are evacuated at the same time."

Fig. 231.—Attacus (Bombyx) Atlas.

Fig. 232.—The Lackey (Bombyx neustria).

One part of Fig. 233 shows the arrangement of the caterpillars on
coming out of the nest. These caterpillars are furnished with long hairs,
slightly tufted, which come off with the greatest ease, and which if they
penetrate into the skin, cause violent itching. In 1865 a number of the alleys
of the Bois de Boulogne were shut up from the public in order to save them
from this annoyance. These caterpillars construct a covering common to
them all, in which they live, and transform themselves therein, each insect

making for his own private use a small cocoon. This insect is said to have
been found in England, but there is not sufficient evidence to admit it into
our lists.

Fig. 233.—Larvæ of the Procession Moth (Bombyx processionea).

Fig. 234.—The Vapourer Moth (Orgyia antiqua), male
and female.

The Orgyias comprise a great number of small species, of a dark colour,
which do a great deal of damage to our forest trees. In Sep tember and
October the male of the Orgyia antiqua, with his tawny wings, may often
be seen flying about the streets of London. The female (Fig. 234) is
remarkable, as she has only the rudiments of wings, and only goes as far as
the side of her cocoon. The caterpillar of the Orgyia pudibunda, called also
the Hop Dog, attacks almost every sort of tree. When the state of the
atmosphere favours their propagation, they appear in fearful quantities, and
cause the greatest havoc. During the autumn of 1828, in the environs of
Phalsbourg, they were to be counted by millions. The extent of the woods
laid waste was calculated at about fifteen hundred hectares. It is common in
this country.

Fig. 235.—Orgyia pudibunda.

Among the genus Liparis, the species of which are also very destructive
to trees, we must mention the Brown-tailed Moth (Liparis chrysorrhœa,
Fig. 236), a species by no means rare in England. The caterpillars live in
quantities, on apple, pear, and elm trees, and destroy the plantations of the
promenades of Paris.

The females of this genus tear off the fur
from the extremity of their abdomens to make a
soft bed for their eggs, and to preserve them from
the cold. And yet they are never to see their
young, for they die after they have laid their
eggs. Another tribe of Bombycina contains
Fig. 236.—Liparis species of a small size, which are remarkable
chrysorrhœa. from the habits of their caterpillars, which make,
with foreign bodies, cases, in the interior of
which they live and undergo their metamorphoses.
The caterpillars of the genus Psyche live in a case composed of
fragments of leaves, of bits of grass and straw, of small sticks of wood, or
of little stones, stuck together, and intermixed with silky threads.

Fig. 237.—Case of Psyche muscella. Fig. 238.—Psyche muscella.

Fig. 239.—Case of Pysche rubicolella. Fig. 240.—Case of Psyche graminella.

Fig. 241.—Larva of Psyche graminella. Fig. 242.—Psyche graminella.

VII.—The Goat-moth (Cossus ligniperda).
Larva, pupa, and perfect insect.
1, 2. Perfect insect. 3. Pupa. 4. Larva.

We give a representation (in Figs. 237, 239, and 240) of the cases of the
caterpillars of three different kinds. The females of these moths are
completely destitute of wings, and resemble caterpillars. As a general rule
they hardly ever leave their case. The males (Figs. 238, 242) are of a
blackish grey, and fly very swiftly.
The caterpillars of the genus Hepialus are difficult to observe, as they
live in the interior of the roots of various vegetables. Such is the common
Ghost Moth (Hepialus humuli), which sometimes causes the greatest
damage.

Fig. 243.—Zeuzera æsculi.

The type of the genus Zeuzera is Zeuzera æsculi, or Wood Leopard (Fig.
243). It has white wings with large blackish blue spots on the anterior, and
small black spots on the posterior wings. The caterpillar, of a vivid yellow,
spotted with black, lives in the interior of the trunks of a great many trees,
principally the chestnut, the elm, the lime, and the pear tree. This moth,
which is known also by the name of Coquette, is to be seen in the evening
flying about the public gardens of Paris, and is not rare in England. The
most celebrated species of the allied genus Cossus is the Wood-boring Goat
Moth (Cossus ligniperda), figured in the opposite plate. The moth has a
heavy brownish body and greyish wings streaked with black. It is found in
most parts of Europe. The caterpillar is of a reddish colour, as if it had on a
leathern jerkin, and disgorges a liquid which is believed to soften ligneous
fibres, and it lives in the interior of willows and other trees. It was on this
caterpillar that Lyonnet made his admirable anatomical researches.

Fig. 244.—Larva of Dicranura vinula.

Fig. 245.—Dicranura vinula.

Another tribe of Bombycina comprises some very strange caterpillars,
whose hindermost feet are changed into forked prolongations, which they
move about in a threatening manner. These sort of fly-traps are perhaps
meant to keep at a distance those insects which would lay their eggs upon
the caterpillar's body. The caterpillars of Dicranura are of this kind. We
give a representation of the caterpillar and the moth of the Puss Moth
(Dicranura vinula, Figs. 244, 245), as also the moth of the Dicranura
verbasci, the former of which is common in England, and the larva may be
found during the late summer and early autumn feeding on poplars and
willows; and of the caterpillar of Stauropus fagi, the Lobster Moth (Fig.

247), rare in France, whose appearance is strange indeed. The moths, on the
contrary, have nothing about them remarkable.

Fig. 246.—Dicranura verbasci.

Fig. 247.—Larva of the Lobster Moth
(Stauropus fagi).

The Noctuina are a group of Lepidoptera of middling size, and
generally found in woods, meadows, and gardens, where their caterpillars
have lived. They seldom fly till about sunset, or during the night. Their
upper wings are of a dark colour, with spots in the middle of a particular
shape. Their lower wings are of various colours, often whitish, sometimes
red or yellow.

Fig. 248.—Noctua tegamon.

Fig. 249.—Noctua nebulosa.

We give representations of some of the species of this group. [69] Noctua
tegamon, Fig. 248; Noctua nebulosa, Fig. 249; Noctua musiva, Fig. 250;
Noctua brunnea, Fig. 251; Catocala fraxini, Fig. 252; Catocala Americana,
Fig. 253; Catocala paranympha, Fig. 254; Catocala nupta, Fig. 255, the
Red Underwing; and Erebus strix, Fig. 256.

Fig. 250.—Noctua musiva.

Fig. 251.—Noctua brunnea.

The bodies of these moths are robust and sometimes massive, and are
scaly rather than woolly. The thorax is sometimes bristling with hairy tufts.
This genus includes 800 species, of which there are about 300 in
France. The caterpillars of the Noctuina are smooth or very slightly covered
with hair, usually of a pale colour, and live on low plants, of which they
devour, some the leaves, others the roots; then it is they are most destructive
to agriculture. There are some of them which eat any caterpillars they may
chance to meet, and even those of their own species, leaving nothing but the
skin. Some of them surround themselves with a light cocoon before
becoming chrysalides; others bury themselves in soft, well-pulverised soil.

Fig. 252.—Catocala fraxini.

Fig. 253.—Catocala Americana.

Fig. 254.—Catocala paranympha.

Fig. 255.—Catocala nupta.

Fig. 256.—Erebus strix.

The family of Geometrinæ, or Geometers, comprises moths of a
middling size, and usually flying after sunset and during the night. [70] They
frequent the alleys of damp woods, where they become the prey of the
Libellulæ [71] and other carnivorous insects. Their bodies and abdomens are
slender, their wings large, thin, fragile, often of a dark colour, with brilliant
markings.
The caterpillars of the Geometrinæ are known by the name of loopers or
geometers. We have previously described their singular organisation. They
are continually spinning a silken thread, which keeps them attached to the
plant on which they live. If you touch the leaf which supports them they
immediately let themselves fall.

Fig. 257.—Looper Fig. 258.—Seen Fig. 259.— Figs. 260 and 261.—
hanging by its at the side. Front view. Remounting its thread.
thread.

"Nevertheless, they do not generally fall to the ground," says Réaumur;
"there is a cord ready to support them in the air (Fig. 257), and a cord which
they can lengthen as they will; this cord is only a very thin thread, but has
nevertheless strength enough to support the caterpillar (Figs. 258, 259). All
that there seems to fear is, that the thread may lengthen too quickly and the
caterpillar fall, rather than descend gently, to the ground. But what we must
first remark and admire is, that the caterpillar is mistress of its movements,
and is not obliged to descend too quickly; it descends by stages; it stops in
the air when it pleases. Generally it only descends at most about one foot at
a time, and sometimes only half a foot or a few inches, after which it makes
a pause more or less long, as it pleases." It is in this way that the caterpillars
let themselves fall from the top of the highest trees: they remount again
with no less ease.
Let us listen to Réaumur's description of the means employed by this
caterpillar to ascend these heights. Figs. 260 and 261, drawn, as the three
preceding ones, from the plates in Réaumur's Memoir, help us to follow the

explanation given by the illustrious naturalist of the evolutions of our little
acrobat:—"To remount," says Réaumur, "the caterpillar seizes the thread
between its jaws, as high up as it can; as soon as it has done this it twists its
head round, lays it over on one side, and continues to do so more and more
every moment. Its head seems to descend below the last of the scaly legs
which are on the same side as that to which it is inclined. The truth is,
however, that it is not its head which descends, the part of the thread which
it holds between its jaws is a fixed point for its head and for the rest of its
body; it is that portion of the back corresponding with its scaly legs which
the caterpillar twists upwards; the consequence is that the scaly legs and
that part of the body to which they belong then ascend. When the last pair
of legs is just over the jaws of the caterpillar, one leg, viz., that which is on
the side towards which the head is inclined, seizes the thread and brings it
over to the corresponding leg on the other side, which is advanced to
receive it. If the head is then raised, which is done immediately, it is in
order that it may seize the thread at a higher point than that at which it was
caught at first; or, which is the same thing, the head, and consequently the
whole body of the caterpillar, is found to have ascended to a height equal to
the length of the thread which is between the place where its jaws seized it
the first time and that where they seized it the second time. The first move
in the upward direction is thus made, and the second soon follows.... If you
were to seize the caterpillar on its arrival at the end of its upward journey,
you would see a packet of threads huddled together between the four
hindmost of the scaly legs. The greater the height ascended the greater is the
size of this packet. All the turns of the thread which compose it are
entangled. So the caterpillar does not consider it of any value. As soon as
the insect can walk it gets rid of the mass, sets its legs free, and leaves it
behind before one or at most two steps have been taken. The cord is wasted
on each ascent, but the caterpillar can afford to lose as many as it likes, for
it has in itself the source of the matter necessary for the composition of the
thread, and it is a source from which that which was drawn off is being
continually re-supplied. Moreover, spinning the thread costs the caterpillars
but little; indeed, the loopers economise this thread so badly that most of
them leave it behind them wherever they go."
They are found on many trees, but particularly on the oak, the foliage of
which they often entirely devour. They burrow into the ground to change
into chrysalides, and undergo all their metamorphoses in the course of the

year. Others do not become perfect insects
till the autumn, or sometimes not even till
the following spring. A few assume the
perfect state in winter. There are, indeed,
some of these, such as the males of the
Hybernias, which fly about on the foggy
evenings of November. The females of this
genus have either no wings at all, or else
only rudimentary ones. Two species, the
Hybernia defoliaria, or Winter Moth, and
Fig. 262.—Hybernia leucophearia, the Chimatobia brumata, abundant here,
male. are very common in the environs of Paris.
M. Maurice Girard says, in his work on
the metamorphoses of insects, that the females of these moths can easily be
found at the beginning of November, in a very strange place, namely, on the
gas lamps of the public promenades; for instance, along the roads in the
Bois de Boulogne. No doubt they had climbed up to this height, attracted by
the light, or perhaps had been carried thither by the males, which fly, having
wings.

Fig. 263.—Winter Moth (Hybernia defoliaria), Fig. 264.—Winter Moth (Hybernia
male. defoliaria), female.

In February and March appear other analogous species. "We may find,"
says M. Maurice Girard, "near Paris, in the meadows which surround the
confluence of the Seine and the Marne, at the end of the month of March,
the Nyssia zonaria (Fig. 267), the males of which insect remain during the
day motionless on the grass." [72]

Fig. 265.—Chimatobia brumata, male. Fig. 266.—Chimatobia brumata, female.

There are some species of this family in which the wings of the females
are developed like those of the males. [73] Such are thePeppered Moth
(Amphidasis betularia) and the Currant Moth (Abraxas grossulariata),
whose caterpillar lives on the red currant and gooseberry, and an immense
number known as Thorns, Carpets, Waves, &c.

Fig. 267.—Nyssia zonaria, male and female.

The section of the Pyralina contains the smallest nocturnal Lepidoptera,
and nearly all those tiny species which flutter round our lights in the
evening.

Fig. 268.—Penthina pruniana.

Here are some drawings of a few of the numerous species of this
section, remarkable for their small size and beauty:—Penthina pruniana,
Ædia pusiella, Xylopoda fabriciana, Pœdisca autumnana, Tortrix roborana,
Philobacera fagana, Tortrix sorbiana, Antithesia salicana, Pœdisca
occultana, Argyrolepia æneana, Sericoris Zinkenana, Sarrothripa revayana,
Cochylis francilana, Choreutes dolosana (Figs. 268 to 281).[74]

Fig. 269.—Ædia pusiella. Fig. 270.—Xylopoda fabriciana.

In a book of this kind we can only mention some types among these last
insects, which claim our attention in what we might almost call a tyrannical
manner. We will, therefore, content ourselves by saying a few words about
the Green Tortrix, the Pyralis of the Vine, the Bee-hive Moth, some species
of the Clothes Moth family (Tineina), and finally of the Œcophoræ.

Fig. 271.—Pœdisca autumnana. Fig. 272.—Tortrix roborana.

Fig. 273.—Philobacera fagana. Fig. 274.—Tortrix sorbiana.

The Green Tortrix (Tortrix viridana) has wings of a green colour, with
the margin and fringe whitish on the anterior, and of an ashy grey on the
posterior wings. The under-side of the four wings is of a bright white, as if
it had been silvered. This pretty moth comes out in the month of May. It is
so common everywhere, that at this season it is only necessary to shake the
branches of the oaks which border the alleys of the woods to set in motion
hundreds of them. The caterpillar is green, with black warty spots, each
having a hair of the same colour. They are wonderfully lively, the moment
they are disturbed taking refuge in a rolled leaf, which serves them as a
dwelling-place. If they are pursued, they let themselves fall by the aid of a
thread, and do not re-ascend till they think they can count on repose and
security. This, and many kindred species, do a great deal of damage to our
trees. They strip them of their leaves, and sometimes give them, during the
first days of summer, the sad and melancholy appearance which they
present in the middle of winter.

Fig. 275.—Antithesia Fig. 276.—Pœdisca Fig. 277.—Argyrolepia
salicana. occultana æneana.

Fig. 278.—Sericoris Zinkenana. Fig. 279.—Sarrothripa revayana.

Fig. 280.—Cochylis francilana. Fig. 281.—Choreutes dolosana.

We have just alluded to the tube formed of a rolled leaf, in which the
caterpillar takes refuge, and in which it lives. This tube it constructs itself.
Réaumur has devoted a magnificent chapter of his Memoirs to observations
on the skill with which divers species of caterpillars fold, roll, and bind the
leaves of plants and trees, especially those of the oak. Let us listen to the
great observer:—"If one looks attentively at the leaves of the oak tree
towards the middle of the spring, many of them will be seen to be rolled in
different ways. The exterior surface of the end of one of these leaves has, it
appears, been rolled back towards the interior surface, in order to describe
the first turn of a spiral, which is then covered by many other turns (Fig.
282). Some leaves are rolled towards their exterior surfaces, others are
rolled towards their interior surfaces, but in a totally different direction. The
length or axis of the first roll is perpendicular to the principal rib and to the
stalk of the leaf, the axis of the latter parallel to the same rib (Fig. 283).
Work of this kind would not be very difficult to perform for those who had
fingers; but caterpillars have neither fingers nor anything equivalent to
fingers. Moreover, to have rolled the leaves is only to have done half the
work: they must be retained in a position from which their natural spring
tends constantly to draw them. The mechanism to which the caterpillars
have recourse for this second part of their work is easily perceived. We see
packets of threads attached by one end to the surface of the roll, and by the
other to the flat surface of the leaf. They are so many bands, so many little
cords which hold out against the spring of the leaf. There are sometimes
more than from ten to twelve of these bands arranged nearly in the self-
same straight line. Each band is a packet of threads of white silk, pressed
one against the other, and yet we must remember all are separate." [75]

Fig. 282.—Oak leaf rolled perpendicularly. Fig. 283.—Oak leaf rolled sideways.

Réaumur made the oak-leaf rollers work in his house. He has admirably
described all their little manœuvres, but we lack the space to convey to the
reader the result of his minute observations. In fact, the leaf-rollers
construct for themselves a sort of cylindrical cell, which receives light only
through the two extremities. The convenience of this green fresh habitation
is, that its walls furnish food to the animal which inhabits it. The caterpillar,
thus sheltered, sets to work to gnaw away at the end of the leaf which it
rolled first; it then eats all the rolls it has made, up to the very last.

Fig. 284.—Leaf of sorrel, a portion of which is cut and
rolled perpendicularly to the leaf.

Réaumur found also rolls which had been formed of two or three leaves
rolled lengthwise, and he saw that the leaves which had occupied the centre
had been almost entirely eaten. He saw also caterpillars which continued to
eat while they were making their habitation. Let us add that one of the ends

of the roll is the opening through which the caterpillar casts its excrement;
that the caterpillar can prepare itself a fresh roll if it is turned out of the
first; and, lastly, that it is in a rolled leaf that the caterpillar undergoes its
metamorphoses into a chrysalis and into a moth.
Réaumur studied other leaf-rollers; for instance, those which roll the
leaves of nettles and of sorrel. The last one works in a manner which
deserves to be mentioned. Its roll is of no particular shape, but it is its
position which is remarkable. It is set upon the leaf like a ninepin (Fig.
284). The caterpillar has not only to twist it up into a roll, but also to place
it perpendicularly on the leaf.

Figs. 285 and 286.—Willow leaves rolled by a caterpillar, and section of a
bundle of leaves drawn together by a caterpillar.

Next to the rolling caterpillars, let us mention those which are contented
with folding the leaves. These caterpillars then lie in a sort of flat box.
Besides the rolling and folding caterpillars, there are still those which bind
up a good many leaves in one packet. These packets are to be found on
nearly every tree and shrub, and the caterpillar, lying nearly in the middle of
the packet, is well sheltered, and surrounded by a good supply of food. We
will content ourselves by giving a drawing, after Réaumur, of the pretty
arrangement of the leaves of a species of willow (Figs. 285, 286). In the
figures we see the parcel bound together by the caterpillar. In that to the
right we see the transverse section of the packet of leaves magnified. At the
two edges are seen the threads which keep the leaves together, and the
cavity occupied by the caterpillar.
The Vine Pyralis is produced from a leaf-rolling caterpillar, which
deserves our attention on account of the ravages which it has for some time
committed, and which it still commits in vineyards. It was at the end of the
sixteenth century that this pyralis first showed itself in the environs of Paris,
in the territory of Argenteuil. "The inhabitants of this commune," writes the
Abbé Lebœuf, "looked on the insects which spoiled their vines in the spring
of 1562 as a visitation of God. The Bishop of Paris gave orders that they
should offer up public prayers for the diminution of these insects, and that
they should join to their prayers, exorcisms, without leaving the church."
Prayers, processions, exorcisms, were again had recourse to in 1629, in
1717, and in 1733, to stop the ravages of this insect among the vines of
Colombes, in the territory of Aï.
The country of the Mâconnais and the Beaujolais became in their turn
the theatre of the ravages of the pyralis. These ravages very soon increased
and spread. In 1836, 1837, 1838, this plague raged in the departments of the
Saône-et-Loire, of the Rhône, of the Côte-d'Or, of the Marne, of the Seine-
et-Oise, of the Charente-Inférieure, of the Haute-Garonne, of the Pyrénées-
Orientales, and of the Hérault.
To give an idea of the losses which may be occasioned by the pyralis, in
a period of ten years (1828-1837), twenty-three communes comprised in the
two departments of the Saône-et-Loire and of the Rhône lost 75,000
hectolitres of wine a year, which may be valued at 1,500,000 francs. If we
were to calculate the supply of articles of all sorts which this great number
of casks of wine would have necessitated, the imposts on their transport, the