these insects [probably males of the Margarodes] fly away, they are manifestly deprived of all color, and not only this, but the cortex which is left retains nothing of the precious coloration.
So, says Friedel, since in all these different sorts of coccus the red color disappears in the last stage, when the creature is transformed into a fly or some other little animal, it is easy to understand why the beetles produced from the cochineal show no red pigment. The point is important, because it is necessary that the cochineal should be collected in time, before its last transformation, and while it is still swollen with the juice.
The analogy is here not very convincing, since the Kermes does not turn into a single insect, but produces a multitude of "worms," as Friedel clearly states. It seemed sufficient to him, however, and he never got a glimpse of the true fact that the cochineal insects do indeed turn into the beetles, in the same manner that the lamb may be said, under suitable circumstances, to be transformed into the lion.
Assuming that the cochineal was the pupa of the beetle, it remained to fortify this conclusion by still other arguments. In the first place, Herrera and Laetus had given some slight account of the development of the cochineal, from actual observation. From this it might be gathered that there was at first a minute or mite-like insect, which developed into the cochineal-grain. This accords very well, so far as it goes, with what was to be expected according to the theory. "That grain is covered on the outside by a certain thin tunic, which contains shut up within it the little animal, which is soon to be transformed into a beetle"—this is, however, an inference of Friedel's, not of Herrera's.
"But," says Friedel, "for a more beautiful illustration of my hypothesis, I thought T might describe the transformation of the European ladybird, which is certainly sufficiently allied to the American to permit accurate deductions to be drawn from it." So he went first to the book on insects by John Goedart "that very illustrious painter of Middleton," a work which several years back Martin Lister had published in a new and revised edition. In this work, p. 274, it appeared that first from little blackish eggs deposited in a sort of circle on the leaves of the Ribes [currant or gooseberry], there sprang, "from the nurturing of the summer air," little animals, which immediately after hatching could scarcely move, until after an interval of several days they learned to creep a little, and finally to run about freely. These insects were subsequently observed to shed their skins, like serpents, as they increased in size, and this was done four distinct times, and last they obtained the final red skin, variegated with black spots. To these statements the author added that as often as these beetles stripped themselves of their skins, they fixed their feet firmly in the place they occupied, and crept out, leaving the empty skin in its
