On the cypress-spurge (_Euphorbia cyparissias_), a native woodland plant, but not of very common occurrence, may be found, towards the end of October, a caterpillar of a middle size, sparely tufted with hair, and striped with black, white, red, and brown. The leaves of the plant, which are in the form of short narrow blades of grass, are made choice of by the caterpillar to construct its cocoon, which it does with great neatness and regularity, the end of each leaf, after it has been detached from the plant, being fixed to the stem, and the other leaves placed parallel, as they are successively added. The other ends of all these are bent inwards, so as to form a uniformly rounded oblong figure, somewhat larger at one end than at the other. A caterpillar which builds a very similar cocoon to the last-mentioned may be found upon a more common plant--the yellow snap-dragon or toad-flax (_Antirrhinum linaria_)--which is to be seen in almost every hedge. It is somewhat shaped like a leech, is of a middle size, and the prevailing colour pearl-grey, but striped with yellow and black. It spins up about the beginning of September, forming the outer coating of pieces of detached leaves of the plant, and sometimes of whole leaves placed longitudinally, the whole disposed with great symmetry and neatness. The moth appears in the following June. [Illustration: Cypress-Spurge Caterpillar--(_Acronycta Euphrasiæ_)--with a Cocoon, on a branch.] It is worthy of remark, as one of the most striking instances of instinctive foresight, that the caterpillars which build structures of this substantial description are destined to lie much longer in their chrysalis trance than those which spin merely a flimsy web of silk. For the most part, indeed, the latter undergo their final transformation in a few weeks; while the former continue entranced the larger portion of a year, appearing in the perfect state the summer after their architectural labours have been completed. (J. R.) This is a remarkable example of the instinct which leads these little creatures to act as if under the dictates of prudence, and with a perfect knowledge of the time, be it long or short, which will elapse before the last change of the pupa takes place. That the caterpillar, while weaving its cocoon and preparing to assume the pupa state, exercises any reflective faculties, or is aware of what is about to occur relative to its own self, we cannot admit. It enters upon a work of which it has had no previous experience, and which is performed, as far as contingencies allow, in the same manner by every caterpillar of the same species. Its labours, its mode of carrying them on, and the very time in which they are to be commenced, are all pre-appointed; and an instinctive impulse urges and guides; and with this instinct its organic endowments are in precise harmony; nor does instinct ever impel to labours for which an animal is not provided. "The same wisdom," says Bonnet, "which