B UTTERFL Y PS YCHOL OCT. 209 



no plans, needed no estate, was subject to 

 no ambition. Summer was here when it 

 came forth, and summer was still here when 

 it passed away. It was born, it lived upon 

 honey, it loved, and it died. Happy and 

 brief biography ! 



Happy and brief ; but what a multitude 

 of questions are suggested by it ! Did the 

 creature know anything of its preexistence, 

 either in the chrysalis or earlier? If so, 

 did it look back upon that far-away time 

 as upon a golden age ? Or was it really as 

 careless as it seemed, neither brooding over 

 the past nor dreaming of the future ? Was 

 it aware of its own beauty, seeing itself 

 some day reflected in the pool as it came to 

 the edge to drink? Did it recognize smaller 

 butterflies the white and the yellow, and 

 even the diminutive " copper " as poor re- 

 lations ; felicitating itself, meanwhile, upon 

 its own superior size, its brilliant orange- 

 red eye-spots, and its gorgeous tails ? Did 

 it mourn over its faded broken wings as age 

 came on, or when an unexpected gust drove 

 it sharply against a thorn ? Or was it en- 

 abled to take every mischance and change 

 in a philosophical spirit, perceiving all such 



