Both larvae practise a special art of eating, which is determined by the nature of the game. The Sphex, when sitting down to an Ephippiger, the food that has fallen to its lot, knows thoroughly how to consume it and how to preserve, to the very end, the glimmer of life which keeps it fresh; but, if it has to browse upon a Cetonia-grub, whose different structure would confuse its talents as a dissector, it would soon have nothing before it but a heap of putrescence. The Scolia, in its turn, is familiar with the method of eating the Cetonia-grub, its invariable portion; but it does not understand the art of eating the Ephippiger, though the dish is to its taste. Unable to dissect this unknown species of game, its mandibles slash away at random, killing the creature outright as soon as they take their first bites of the deeper tissues of the victim. That is the whole secret. One more word, on which I shall enlarge in another chapter. I observe that the Scoliae to which I give Ephippigers paralysed by the Sphex keep in excellent condition, despite the change of diet, so long as the provisions retain their freshness. They languish when the game goes high; and they die when putridity supervenes. Their death, therefore, is due not to an unaccustomed diet, but to poisoning by one or other of those terrible toxins which are engendered by animal corruption and which chemistry calls by the name of ptomaines. Therefore, notwithstanding the fatal outcome of my three attempts, I remain persuaded that the unfamiliar method of rearing would have been perfectly successful had the Ephippigers not gone bad, that is, if the Scoliae had known how to eat them according to the rules. What a delicate and dangerous thing is the art of eating in these carnivorous larvae supplied with a single victim, which they have to spend a fortnight in consuming, on the express condition of not killing it until the very end! Could our physiological science, of which, with good reason, we are so proud, describe, without blundering, the method to be followed in the successive mouthfuls? How has a miserable grub learnt what our knowledge cannot tell us? By habit, the Darwinians will reply, who see in instinct an acquired habit.