LIFE IN DEATH. 



" Life mocks the idle hate 

 Of his arch-enemy, Death." 



WE were loath, to begin the year by contemplation of our 

 Insect subjects while buried in a sleep wearing Death's perfect 

 semblance ; but we can look at them now, and their dreamless 

 slumber inspires no corresponding dulness, but only curious 

 expectancy ; for they are about to awake, and soon their songs 

 of life and liberty, their morning hymn and their evening 

 boom, will be resounding over the bursting hedge-rows and 

 the opening flowers. The Bee is still mute; the Beetle still 

 motionless ; the Butterfly (like the bud) still enfolded in its 



