During the emission of the silken material, the worm gradually contracts in bulk, and becomes wrinkled. Its task being finished, it rests awhile, and then throws off its caterpillar garb. If the cocoon be now opened, its inhabitant will be found in the state of a chrysalis or aurelia, in shape somewhat resembling a kidney bean, but pointed at one end, having a smooth. brown skin. Its former covering will be found lying beside it. In this state it remains for a period varying, according to the temperature of the climate or season, from fifteen to thirty days. It then throws off its leathery shroud, having become, in the interval, transformed into a large greyish moth, furnished with four wings, two eyes, and two black, feathery antlers. If left until this period within the cocoon, the moth takes immediate measures for her emancipation, and without saw or centre-bit, 'she makes her way through the shell, the silk, and the floss.' Having first, by means of a fluid discharged from its mouth, lessened the adhesiveness of the gum with which it had lined the interior surface of its chamber, the moth extends its antennæ, together with its head and feet, towards the point of the cone, and gradually loosens, without breaking, the texture of the ball: then, using its hooked feet, it pushes aside the filaments, and having sufficiently enlarged the opening, issues forth into light, leaving at the bottom of the cone the relics of its caterpillar form. The length of the unbroken thread in a cocoon, varies from 600 to 1000 feet; and as it is all spun double by the insect, it will amount to nearly 2000 feet of silk, the whole of which does not weigh above three grains and a half. Five pounds of silk from 10,000 cocoons, is considered as above the usual average. The moth enjoys its liberty for a very brief term. Its first em ployment is to seek its mate; after which the female deposits her eggs; and both, in the course of two or three days after, terminate their being. The number of eggs produced by the female moth, varies from 250 to 400, or even 500. This one specimen of insect architecture, insect manufacture, and insect metamorphosis, will serve, we hope, as well as multiplied extracts from these entomological varieties, to recommend the volumes and the study to any of our readers who have hitherto neglected this branch of entertaining and more than entertaining knowledge. The wise man sends the slothful to learn diligence of the ant. Might not the unproductive idler, clad, perhaps, in the produce of an insect, be sent to school to the silk-worm? But all nature is full of varied lessons of wisdom and piety, to those who can decipher the sacred cha racters. Art. IV.-I. Heath's Picturesque Annual for 1832. Travelling Sketches in the North of Italy, the Tyrol, and on the Rhine ; with Twenty-six beautifully finished Engravings from Drawings by Clarkson Stanfield, Esq. By Leitch Ritchie, Esq., Author of the "Romance of French History," &c. 8vo. pp. 256. Price 21s. in Morocco. 2. The Continental Annual, and Romantic Cabinet for 1832; with Illustrations by Samuel Prout, Esq. F.S.A. Edited by William Kennedy, Esq. 8vo. pp. 313. Thirteen Plates. Price 14s. in Silk. 3. The Keepsake for MDCCCXXXII. Edited by Frederick Mansel Reynolds. 8vo. pp. 320. Seventeen Plates. Price 21s. in Silk. 4. The Literary Souvenir. Edited by Alaric A. Watts. Twelve Plates. Price 12s. in Morocco. pp. 344. 5. The Forget-me-not; a Christmas, New Year's, and Birthday Present for MDCCCXXXII. Edited by Frederick Shoberl. Twelve Plates. Price 12s. in Silk. 6. The New Year's Gift; and Juvenile Souvenir. Alaric Watts. 18mo. pp. 240. Eight Plates. bound. Edited by Mrs. 7. Ackermann's Juvenile Forget-me-not. Edited by Frederick Shoberl. 18mo. pp. 248. Ten Plates. Price 8s. 8. The Humourist: a Companion for the Christmas Fireside. By W. H. Harrison. Embellished by Eighty (Wood) Engravings. 12mo. Price 12s. bound. 9. The Amethyst: or Christian's Annual for MDCCCXXXII. Edited by Richard Huie, M.D. and Robert Kaye Greville, LL.D. 12mo. pp. 360. Price 8s. Edinburgh, 1832. THE above list, in addition to the five noticed in our last Number, a small publication called the Gem, which has not fallen in our way, and some two or three Comic (or would-be Comic) Annuals, comprises, we believe, the whole of this year's display. The Iris and the Bijou have been discontinued. The Iris deserved, for its praise-worthy design, a better fate; but it was not well cast for popularity. It is no disparagement to the talents, the classical erudition, or the theological attainments of the accomplished Editor, to say, that he did not understand how to get up an Annual. Mr. Heath seems to understand this business thoroughly; and his Picturesque Annual is one of the happiest combinations of the joint labours of pen, pencil, and graver that we have seen. He has been fortunate alike in his artist and his editor. Of Mr. Stanfield's drawings, we shall speak hereafter. Mr. Leitch Ritchie, from whose "Game of Life" we augured a future display of vigorous and versatile talent, has here presented to us a set of bonâ fide travelling sketches', the result of impressions made upon his mind on the spot, interwoven with stories, comic or romantic, and observations historical and sentimental, for the introduction of which is pleaded, the neces'sities of the ANNUAL;-a plant which, having been reared in 'an atmosphere of poetry and fiction, would, perhaps, run 'some risk of drooping, if suddenly transplanted. By this ingenious apology for availing himself of romantic licence, the Author contrives to make Mr. Heath and the public answerable for all that stern criticism might object against the lighter parts of the book, while he takes credit for the more solid matter. We will allow him, in our clemency, all the benefit of this plea, in consideration of the information and entertainment which his very pleasant Sketches have yielded to us. The only fault we feel compelled to notice, regards certain levities of expression and profane exclamations, which no usage can render tolerable. The volume comprehends a journey through the North of Italy, the Tyrol, and the Banks of the Rhine as far as Strasbourg; which is to be continued, in the next volume, down the Rhine to the Sea. The subjects of the sketches are, the Valley of the Rhone, the Simplon, the Lago Maggiore, Milan, Venice, the Brenner Pass, Innsbruck and the Valley of the Inn, Constance, Strasbourgh;-a delightful tour, and Mr. Ritchie is an admirable travelling companion. Of his eye and feeling for scenery, and his excellent style of description, the descent of the Jura affords occasion for a happy specimen. At the On beginning to descend the Jura, our first sensation, as Lake Leman burst upon the view, was that of disappointment. So far is this from being an affectation of singularity, that we feel convinced that the same impression is, and must be made upon every traveller, in spite of the cuckoo-song which it is the fashion to repeat. The immense expanse of the Pays de Vaud at our feet, although in reality diversified by swelling hills, looks as level as the distant sea, when only the white specks on its bosom tell of waves and storms. extremity of this seeming plain lies the plain of waters; only different from the former in colour, the indentations of its margin lost in the distance, and the whole presenting an appearance of tameness and uniformity, which contrasts disagreeably with the ideal picture we carry within us. Even the mountains of Savoy, on the opposite shore, seem to have been exaggerated by our imagination; and with a vain attempt to work ourselves up to the conventional point of admiration, we descend Mount Jura. And yet, as we descend, a kind of wonder, more absorbing than any feeling which attends the gratification of mere taste, begins to rise in VOL. VI.-N.S. 3 F our minds. The mountain-ocean which lies before us to the extent of twenty six square leagues of surface, we know is between eleven and twelve hundred feet above the level of the sea. In relation to the mountains which surround it, nevertheless, and of which the Jura whereon we stand now, forms a part, it seems like a drop of water in the palm of the hand. The soul expands in the endeavour to grasp so magnificent a whole; and instead of the ideas of romantic beauty, which were associated in our fancies with the name of Lake Leman, we receive only impressions of the vast and the sublime. While we are yet in our first reverie, the surface of the water steals away from our eyes, and a sea of white vapour rolls in its place. The play of the sunlight on this unsubstantial mass is magical; and, in watching the prettiness of the effect, we recover from the feelings of awe which had begun to creep over us. Here and there, a blue spot appears in the mist which eddies around it ; now a flash of sunshine, and now a gleam of water; and by and by, the whole lake is seen, in its vast expanse, as blue as heaven itself. Notwithstanding the song of the morning-breeze, and the towns, seats, and farm-houses in the distance, the heart cannot get rid of ideas of loneliness and silence: we are yet in the domain of nature; and the things that belong to human society with its noise and business, are too far off to trouble the atmosphere of our thoughts. As we descend lower towards the base of the Jura, the mountains on the opposite side look more magnificent, and we wonder how our disappointment could have arisen. Mont Blanc is rarely discernible, from the clouds which surround it; but when our perplexity as to which is earth and which air is suddenly removed by some atmospheric change, we start in joy and astonishment. The indentations of the margin grow bolder; the cliffs rise huge and definite on the Savoy side, capped with woods of pines, beech, and oak; the lake is broken into fragments, and comes in detail before us; and without thinking, at the moment, that the different aspect in which objects appear, is caused by the difference in our situation, and the imperfection of the human faculties or shaming ourselves by analogies connected with the moral perceptions-we acknowledge remorsefully that we had done Lake Leman injustice. At the inferior extremity of the lake stands the town of Geneva. The canton of which it is the capital, interposes between the territories of France and Savoy, where the Jura chain meets the first line of the Alps. Jura looks down upon it from the north-west; Salève and Voiron from the south and east, and Sion and Vouache from the west. The valley, guarded by those giants, is almost triangular; till it merges in the vast plains of the Pays de Vaud. Towards the east, a break in the chain of mountains affords a view of the Alps of Faucigny, which appear to carry Mont Blanc upon their shoulders; and beside these, the Aiguille Vert and the Buet, the Reposoir, and the pyramidal Mole. On the south-west, a narrower gorge, called the Pas de l' Ecluse, which opens between the mountains of Vouache and the western extremity of the Jura, permits the egress of the Rhone from the "happy valley". The mountains we have named, however, are all at some distance; they form the outer frame of the precious picture; while another girdle of hills, more beautiful, if less sublime, clasps, but not too tightly, the town itself.' This is painting which more than rivals the glowing colours of the canvas, for it expresses what the pencil cannot,-motion, succession, and moral imagery, spreading the rich hues of metaphor and poetical association over the literal scene. But there are some features of the landscape to which neither pen nor pencil could do justice; and speaking of the colouring of the lake, where the shadow of the mountains falls so black and stern upon its surface, that our imagination is ready to accept with implicit faith of any depth that could be mentioned,' -Mr. Ritchie is bold enough to question the powers of his own colleague to express it. Stanfield himself would be obliged to have recourse to some of those theatrical stratagems which at once embellish the picture, and detract from the merit of the painter. The reflection of the mountains, seen through their shadow, is "beyond the reach of art." The intense and vivid white seems to be produced (if the absurdity can be pardoned) from excess of black; and puts us in mind of the thought of the poet, 66 Of a dark The light As another excellent specimen of graphic description, we must extract the descent into Piedmont, from the Simplon, in a storm of rain. We imagined here' (at Isella, the Sardinian frontier), that we were gliding at once into Italy; but all on a sudden, the cliffs, which had begun to sink and recede, closed in upon us as wildly as at Gondo itself. The rain, at this time, descended in torrents; the sluices of the mountain-rocks were opened; and innumerable cascades sprung from their summits, and fell upon our heads in minute drops, or were blown away in mist. The scene was the most comfortless and dismal we had ever beheld. These enormous precipices, at the foot of which we trickled like a drop of water, seemed to be without end. The dark grey sky, without light or shadow, rested on their summits, and closed in the Valley like a roof. A monotonous hish! extending, one would have thought, through all nature, at once tormented and fatigued us. The rushing of the wheels was so perfectly in tune, that it seemed a part of the sound; and the trampling of the horses' feet, (observed for the first time,) while it divided the measure, only added, to its wearisome uniformity. All this, however, had at length an end-but without the contrast which makes one cry out, Thank Heaven. The Valley widened slowly; the trees grew richer and more numerous as we descended; fieldshouses-vineyards-cattle-men and women-all came gradually in sight. Still, we were not in Italy-the Italy of our imagination. We |