The Life of an Insect

in the larva casting off its old skin, and appearing clothed in a new garment, often more brilliant than before.

for this purpose, it turns and twists its body in various directions, and alternately swells and contracts its different segments. The object of these motions and contortions seems to be, to separate the exterior skin, now become dry and rigid, from the new one just below it. After continuing these operations for some hours, resting at intervals, without motion, as if exhausted by their violence, the critical moment arrives: the skin sp

ed of a flesh-colour, and marked for the various markings on the hand, might be mistaken, if cast down after inflating it with air, for a hand cut off, so, only far more closely, does the cast skin represent, in the minutest particular, the larva which has emerged from it. It is a perfect mould of all its parts, even to the very antenn?, eyes, jaws, &c

f its feet. The larva was then allowed to moult, and was carefully examined, and it was invariably found that the feet cut off when in its old skin were also wanting when it appeared in its new robes; thus plainly proving that the feet were really sheathe

n, it may be asked, does the larva acquire new hairs to take the place of the old ones? Were we to take a larva just before its moulting, and by a sharp and delicate instrument, to slit open and raise its old skin, we should soon perceive how this has been contrived. We should there perceive sundry lit

generally are much debilitated by each moult that takes place; for a variable period, sometimes for some hours, sometimes for a whole day, they will refuse food, and lie without motion. All their parts are very soft and tender, and require hardening by exposure to the air. After a certain period, however, these effects pass off; the larv

four times; other larv? moult oftener than these: some five times, some seven times, some eight times, and some nine, or even ten times; others, again, only moult thrice. The ordinary number o

the artist, in conveying even an approach to an adequate conception of the rich and glowing raiment with which it has pleased God to clothe these minute and humble beings. But a very little actual observation of a few even of the commoner larv? or cat

se's blush o

ch geranium's

of the butterfly called the "Camberwell Beauty," is of a brilliant black, dotted with spots glowing like carbuncles along its back; another has a coat which seems as if set with precious stones, blazing with an intensity of colour which cannot be conveyed by description. In a word, larv?, on the whole, can boast as varied a display of beautiful hues as can almost the whole array of flowers in our gardens. In consequenc

caves of the earth, or immured in the heart of a piece of timber, or inhabiting a cell scooped out of the solid rock, are, most frequently, of a uniform whitish colour. Some experiments have shown that when these whitish larv? have been brought out of darkness and exposed to the sunlight, their colour has turned to brown. Ve

esembli

were studded over with little camel-hair pencils. Madame Merian has described the larva of an insect found in Surinam as having the various divisions of its body ornamented with three blue tubercles, like turquoise beads, from each of which proceeds a long, delicate, feathery plume of a black colour. Another, described by the same lady, is splendidly adorned on each side with fifty red tubercles, shining like coral, from each of which proceed five or six long hairs. Some, again, are covered as thickly as possible with sharp processes, like thorns, sufficiently strong and sharp to pierce the skin of

ly coate

ost singular is figured in the cut, from an engraving given in Baron de Geer's work. The larva is covered completely with a coat of cottony flakes of the most dazzling white, and these are arra

o consider how they breathe. Some one perhaps will say, Breathe?-do larv? breathe? Most certainly; and respiration, or the functio