BRITISH BUTTERFLIES. 



the seat of one of those senses the use of which 

 we seem to understand so well in ourselves. 

 Now, it is most illogical to assume that the 

 antennae serve for purposes of sight, taste, 

 smell, hearing, or touch, because we possess 

 these senses seated in certain organs in our 

 own bodies. We cannot refer the wings of 

 insects to any organs we ourselves possess, 

 and we only learn their use by seeing them 

 employed. Why may not the antennae be the 

 site of some other function not performed by 

 any of our own organs ? Why seek to invest 

 them with the powers of our own eyes, or 

 ears? The subject may be safely left as one 

 above our comprehension. 



The SPIRACLES are a series of nine oval holes 

 on each side, through which the caterpillar 

 breathes: they communicate with the tracheae 

 or breathing-tubes I have already described 

 as moulting in so marvellous a manner simul- 

 taneously with the exterior skin. 



The CLASPERS are fleshy, retractile, or par- 

 tially retractile, organs, ten in number, dis- 

 tributed as above indicated; their use is to 

 grasp firmly the food-plant on which they are 

 standing, and thus allow the legs perfect 

 freedom of motion. They are possessed only 

 by caterpillars, never occurring in the perfect 

 insect, and are very rarely found in any cater- 

 pillars excepting those of butterflies, moths, 

 and sawflies. Each clasper terminates in a 

 flat circular disk, the margin of which is 

 fringed with recurved prehensile hooks. 



THE CHRYSALIS. 



The next change is one of the most im- 

 portant steps in the life of a butterfly : it 

 ceases to eat; and not only this, the cater- 

 pillar seems to take the utmost pains to eject 

 every particle of food from the alimentary 

 canal, and, we are told, evacuates also, together 

 with the excrement, the very lining of its 

 intestines. The colours of the skin change, 

 fade, and entirely disappear; and the creature 

 wanders restlessly and, as we should say, 

 unmeaningly from place to place. Whatever 

 the object of this restlessness and I do not 



doubt it has some object in that great scheme 

 of life, so complete in all the parts we can 

 understand still, I say, whatever the object 

 of this restlessness, its termination is invari- 

 ably the same; it ends in the creature finding 

 some place of real or fancied security in which 

 to undergo its change to a chrysalis. This 

 being found, the next process is to spin a little 

 p*d of silken threads crossing each other in 

 every direction and it would seem thatalmost 

 every caterpillar has the power of elaborating 

 silk, and of emitting it through the mouth in 

 the form of thread ; when the silken pad is 

 complete, the caterpillar grasps it with his 

 last pair of claspers, and then allowing his 

 body to hang down, waits awhile for the 

 change that is progressing within. After the 

 lapse of a day, or sometimes two days, we 

 observe something like a renewal of those 

 twistings and contortions which precede or 

 accompany each moulting, and then the cater- 

 pillar Kkin is seen to open behind the head, 

 and by the alternate contractions and dilations, 

 the chrysalis, now perfectly formed, is seen to 

 force itself through the opening, the upper 

 part of the back coming first, and acting as a 

 wedge to open the slit wider and wider, until 

 all the chrysalis has passed through the open- 

 ing, and the skin of the caterpillar, wrinkled 

 and shrivelled, is pushed down to the lower 

 end of the chrysalis, and there remains, just 

 like a stocking rolled down to the ankle before 

 withdrawing it from the foot. " The chrysalis 

 being much shorter than the caterpillar is as 

 yet at some distance from the silken pad on 

 whichit is tobe fastened; it is supported merely 

 by the unsplit terminal portion of the latter's 

 skin. How shall it disengage itself from the 

 remnant of its case, and be suspended in the air 

 while it climbs up to take its place? Without 

 arms and legs to support itself, the anxious 

 spectator expects it to fall to the earth. His 

 fears, however, are vain ; the supple segments 

 of the body of the chrysalis serve in the place 

 of arms. Between two of them, as with a pair 

 of pincer?, it seizes on a portion of the skin, 

 and bending its body once more, entirely ex- 

 tricates its tail from it. It is now wholly out 

 of the skin, against one side of which it is 



