when young, the head and tail are somewhat swollen, and in this state one kind has been described as looking like "little animated dumbbells." When they attain their full size, they prepare to pass into the chrysalis state, and here their methods are equally diverse. A few hang themselves up by threads, like butterflies; others penetrate the ground, and, without any web, change into a naked, brown-colored pupa, which reposes in a sort of cell, made merely by the movement of the caterpillar pressing back the earth. This is the burial of Psyche. From it a host of oratorical and poetical figures are taken. It affords, in one way, even religious consolation. The human body, buried in the mold, gives to eternity and heaven the soaring soul, as the chrysalis, from its earthy cell, discloses the moth which beats the ether with unquiet wing. Again, many kinds of caterpillars spin thick cocoons, as the "American silk-worm" (Telea polyphemus), the "cecropia moth" (Platysamia cecropia), and the "sassafras emperor" (Callosamia Promethea). Many have been the efforts to utilize the silk thus made by our native moths, and interesting experiments are detailed with that spun by the American silk-worm, as published by Mr. Trouvelot. The silk of all these species can be no doubt used, because the Chinese and Japanese silk-worms belong to the same or nearly related genera. But none of them equal the original Indian or European silk-worm, the Bombyx mori, cultivated chiefly in the south of Europe, and which yields the silk of commerce. After several unsuccessful attempts, of late years, the rearing of the cocoons has been profitably undertaken in the United States, probably through the establishment of silk-mills and the protective tariff which stimulates the silk industry.
Everywhere in the country one may find the chrysalides of moths. Under stones, under moss, and beneath the loose bark of stumps, spun fast to branches and wrapped in the dead leaves of autumn, at the foot of the trees which fed the caterpillars, they may be found in all sorts of hiding-places. The duration of the apparently torpid chrysalis-life is different with the season and the species. From a few weeks to sometimes two years, the still nascent insects lie imprisoned. But at length the hour for escape arrives. The brown shell of the chrysalis splits, and the moth, struggling out of all its envelopes, crawls to some near foothold, where it may shake out and expand its feathery wings in safety. And then, when night comes, and the breeze, it gives itself to the darkness, braving all dangers, to deposit its eggs in safety and perpetuate its species, its main object accomplished often at the sacrifice of its own brief life.
While the moths are inseparably connected with the butterflies, we shall know them by their antennae not being knobbed at the tip, their more downy wings and body, their generally softer colors, and their usual sleepy habit in daytime, when they fold their wings and seek dark places for repose.
