The Life of the Caterpillar 



Is this order, upon which the equilibrium of 

 the universe is based, the predestined result 

 of a blind mechanism? Does it enter into 

 the plans of an Eternal Geometer, as Plato 

 had it? Is it the ideal of a supreme lover of 

 beauty, which would explain everything? 



Why all this regularity in the curve of the 

 petals of a flower, why all this elegance in 

 the chasings on a Beetle's wing-cases? Is that 

 infinite grace, even in the tiniest details, com- 

 patible with the brutality of uncontrolled 

 forces? One might as well attribute the 

 artist's exquisite medallion to the steam- 

 hammer which makes the slag sweat in the 

 melting. 



These are very lofty thoughts concerning a 

 miserable cylinder which will bear a crop of 

 caterpillars. It cannot be helped. The mo- 

 ment one tries to dig out the least detail of 

 things, up starts a why which scientific inves- 

 tigation is unable to answer. The riddle of 

 the world has certainly its explanation other- 

 where than in the little truths of our labora- 

 tories. But let us leave Micromegas to phi- 

 losophize and return to the commonplaces of 

 observation. 



The Pine Bombyx has rivals in the art of 



