318 THE LIFE OF AN INSECT. 



I mean Papilio Machaon, being brought to me 

 by a friend early in May, this year, on the six- 

 teenth of that month I had the pleasure of seeing 

 it leave its pupa-case. With great care I placed 

 it upon my arm, where it kept pacing about for 

 the space of more than an hour, when all its parts 

 appearing consolidated and developed, and the 

 animal perfect in beauty, I secured it, though not 

 without great reluctance, for my cabinet, it being 

 the only living specimen of this fine fly I had ever 

 seen. To observe how gradual, and yet how 

 rapid was the development of the parts and organs, 

 and particularly of the wings, and the perfect 

 coming forth of the colours and spots, as the sun 

 gave vigour to it, was a most interesting spectacle. 

 At first it was unable to elevate or even to move 

 its wings ; but in proportion as the aerial or other 

 fluid was forced by the motions of its trunk into 

 their nervures, their numerous corrugations and 

 folds gradually yielded to the action, till they 

 had gained their greatest extent, and the film 

 between all the nervures became tense. The 

 ocelli, and spots, and bars, which appeared at 

 first as but germs or rudiments of what they were 

 to be, grew with the growing wing, and shone 



