The Capricorn 



which will lead him, without the possibility 

 of mistake, to the exit. Should the window 

 not be open, all that he has to do is to gnaw 

 through a thin screen: an easy task; and be- 

 hold him outside, his long antennas aquiver 

 with excitement. 



What have we learnt from him? Nothing 

 from him; much from his grub. This grub, 

 so poor in sensory organs, gives us with 

 its prescience no little food for reflection. 

 It knows that the coming Beetle will not be 

 able to cut himself a road through the oak 

 and it bethinks itself of opening one for him 

 at its own risk and peril. It knows that the 

 Cerambyx, in his stiff armour, will never be 

 able to turn and make for the orifice of the 

 cell; and it takes care to fall into its nymphal 

 sleep with its head to the door. It knows 

 how soft the pupa's flesh will be and up- 

 holsters the bedroom with velvet. It knows 

 that the enemy is likely to break in during 

 the slow work of the transformation and, to 

 set a bulwark against his attacks, it stores 

 a calcium pap inside its stomach. It knows 

 the future with a clear vision, or, to be ac- 

 curate, behaves as though it knew the future. 

 Whence did it derive the motives of its ac- 

 tions? Certainly not from the experience 

 of the senses. What does It know of the 

 205 



