thread the insect ties together the different filaments of
wool which compose the sheath, forming, as it were,
kind of tissue, of which the warp is of wool, and the
reft of silk. This tissue is very firm in texture, for
the silk of caterpillars when drawn out is covered with
an adhesive gum, which dries in the air, and serves to
bind the substances to which it is attached still more
closely together. While weaving the filaments of wool,
he insect carries the silken thread to the interior,
where it completes the lining. The spinning-tube
below its mouth is the shuttle, and the grub may be
seen moving its head from one side to the other with
great rapidity.
Whether the insect begins its sheath with pure silk,
or with a mixture of wool and silk, cannot be deter-
nined by ordinary observation; but all its proceedings
become apparent by stripping the insect, and com-
pelling it, as it were, to make a new cloak. M. Réaumur
Introduced into the end of several sheaths a small twig,
and by pushing it forward gradually drove the insects
out. They seem never to have thought of getting back
into the old sheath, which was left near, but set to work
to weave new ones; sometimes the naked insect would
remain uneasy and restless for half a day, as if uncertain
what to do, but eventually they all began by weaving a
silken envelope, which was finished in one night; then
the woolly sheath was formed, and completed in five or
six days, although the old one had been several months
in progress.

The young grubs work in the same manner; they
first make a vest of pure silk, they then attach to the
central part of this a ring of little filaments of wool,
parallel to each other, and inclined gently to the length
of the sheath; a second ring is added, close to and
Dartly supported by the first; then a third, and so on;
ut in lengthening the sheath they first lay a foundation
of silk, upon which the woollen filaments are afterwards
ied.
The sheath formed by the newly hatched grubs, small
is it is, is much too large for the insect's body, as if the
Tub wished to spare itself, for some time, the trouble of
nlarging it. In this state they do not retain a firm
old of the sheath, for on shaking a piece of cloth
overed with young grubs over another piece of cloth,
he naked insects will frequently fall down, leaving the
heaths behind them.

At certain periods the insects remain inactive; this s always the case in winter, and for short seasons in ummer and autumn. At such times they fasten the heaths securely to the cloth on which they have been asturing, by means of their silken cables, and no shakng of the cloth will detach them.

material. It is not easy to see these grubs at work, because they attach themselves to the surface of the skin, and are entirely concealed by the hairs. The insect seems to take a pleasure in cutting off these hairs, for those necessary for its wants are as nothing compared with the immense quantity which falls from a skin on slightly shaking it. A razor could not shave off the hairs so completely or so well.

It appears exceedingly probable that the wool-moth and the fur-moth belong to the same species. Reaumur has taken the young grubs from fur and put them upon wool, and they continued to live and thrive, and they passed through their changes like the other grubs. He has transplanted them from wool to fur with equal success. The grubs are not at all nice as to the kind of skin they are put upon; for they seem to pasture equally well upon a horse's hide as upon the most delicate fur. They will even feed upon butterflies' wings, as Réaumur proved.

M. Réaumur has devoted a separate and very elaborate memoir to an inquiry into the best method of getting rid of the clothes-moth: from this we select a few of the most important details. Let us first notice a few superstitions connected with the subject.

According to Pliny a dress which has been used to cover a coffin is for ever after safe from the attacks of the grub. Rasis says that cantharides suspended in a house will drive them away, and that clothes wrapped up in a lion's skin are safe. Other writers recommend various vegetable substances, such as sabine, myrtle, peppermint, iris, lemon-peel, anise, &c. Caton recommends a preparation of olives for rubbing over the interior of drawers.

With the exception of the coffin and the lion-skin, Réaumur tried the other substances, and a variety of others; none proved injurious to the grubs, and some of the most noted preservatives even seemed to make the insects thrive. They were not affected when shut up with pieces of cloth which had been steeped in vinegar, infusion of peppermint, sea salt, soda, &c.; they thrived admirably with iris-root, and were not at all injured by cantharides shut up with them in a bottle.

Although the grubs attack woollen fabrics of all colours, they are not altogether indifferent as to the texture; they prefer loose textures to close ones, because in the one case the fibres are more easily torn out. On this account they prefer the nap of the cloth, because it is so easily got at, and they do not attack the thread until the nap is removed. The more the yarn of the woven material is twisted, and the more perfectly the cloth has been fulled, the less is it exposed to their attacks. Some of the old tapestries remain entire, beHowever singular it may appear that the stomachs of cause they are made of hard-spun yarn, while modern hese grubs can digest woolly fibres, it is not less re- tapestries of loose texture are destroyed in a few years. arkable that the dye stuffs with which these fibres are Thus the tapestries of Auvergne are much more liable oloured, pass through their bodies unaltered: hence, to be attacked than those of Flanders; and the serge, éaumur has suggested that water colours of beautiful once so extensively employed in the houses of France, ints, not otherwise easily attainable, might be procured has been almost entirely given up, on account of its feeding the grub on different coloured wools. liability to the attacks of this grub. Backs of chairs When the grubs have attained their full growth, and are now covered with leather, or some such material; so he time of their metamorphosis is at hand, they some- that it is an actual fact that the textile manufactures imes abandon the stuffs which have hitherto furnished of France have suffered from the attacks of an aphem with food and clothing, and seek out places ca-parently insignificant little insect. Felted goods are able of affording more fixed supports, such as the orners of drawers, walls, &c. They then hang up their beath, with silken threads, by one or both ends, at arious angles between a horizontal and a vertical posiion, and close with silk both ends of the sheath. They on change into the chrysalis, which is at first of a ellowish tint, but passes into reddish. In two or three reeks the perfect moth is formed; she pierces the end the sheath, and, after a few struggles, escapes into he air, and prepares to lay her eggs, from which a new eneration of grubs will in due time be hatched. The fur-moth does not greatly differ from the woolnoth. The grub constructs its sheath in a similar Banner, the only difference being in the nature of the

but little attacked, on account of the interlacing of the fibres rendering it difficult to separate them.

"But is there no remedy against the attacks of the clothes-moth grub?" will the fair reader exclaim, who has had the patience to accompany us thus far. She will probably suspect the writer of being so captivated with the ingenuity of these silk-lined-woollen-cloak gentry, that he seeks to conceal the instrument of their destruction. But what will you say, fair reader, to asking your husband to smoke his evening's cigar in the bed-room, instead of in the garden? Or would you object to the risk of being suffocated with the fumes of burning sulphur? These are remedies, it is true; but perhaps you will agree that they are worse than

the disease. Let us then try some more practicable | their husbands or lovers an additional excuse for per plan. petuating a bad habit.

It is usual every year with good housewives to turn The vapour of turpentine, and the smoke of tobaces, out and dust their wardrobes and drawers, and to shake are also effectual in driving away flies, spiders, ants, and brush their contents. This is an excellent preser-carwigs, bugs, and fleas. The latter torments are so vative, if done about the time when the young grubs are hatched, which is during August and September. At this time they can be shaken off the cloth with a very little force; but at other times, when they anchor their sheaths to the cloth with silken cables, it is not so easy to get rid of them.

It may, perhaps, strike many persons as remarkable, that the wool on the sheeps' back is not liable to the attacks of the clothes-moth grub. In fact they do not attack the wool until the yolk or natural grease of the fleece is got rid of, and the more perfectly cloth is scoured, the better is it suited to the palates of these creatures. Some oils, however, such as nut oil, suit their taste. This remedy, however, is not to be thought of, for no one would like to have his clothes greasy for the sake of keeping away the moth. It is astonishing, however, how slight an application of grease is effectual as a preservative; merely passing a piece of undressed wool | over some serge was found sufficient to preserve it. An infusion of tobacco, of pepper, of soda, and of olive oil had the same effect. And it is curious to notice the behaviour of the insect when shut up with this unpalatable food. Well may Réaumur exclaim, "Je ne connoissais pas encore tout leur génie quand j'ai cherché à devenir leur destructeur." Under such circumstances the grubs adopt the same plan as some of our arctic voyagers have done to allay the pangs of hunger: they eat their kid gloves and leathern breeches; the caterpillar, however, eats his woollen cloak or portions thereof, and supplies its place with the little dry round grains of excrement, which as before noticed retain the colour of the wool which has been digested: these grains are united with silken threads, and serve to keep the insect covered, which is essential to its well-being.

It is an old custom with some housewives to throw into their drawers every year a number of fir cones, under the idea that their strong resinous smell might keep away the moth. Now, as the odour of these cones is due to turpentine, it occurred to Réaumur to try the effect of this volatile liquid. He rubbed one side of a piece of cloth with turpentine, and put some grubs on the other: the next morning they were all dead, and, strange to say, had voluntarily abandoned their sheaths. On smearing some paper slightly with the oil, and putting this into a bottle with some grubs, the weakest were immediately killed; the most vigorous struggled violently for two or three hours, quitted their sheaths, and died in convulsions.

It was soon abundantly evident that the vapour of oil or spirits of turpentine acts as a terrible poison to the grubs. Perhaps it may be said that even this remedy is worse than the disease; but, as Réaumur justly observes, we keep away from a newly-painted room, or leave off for a few days a coat from which stains have been removed by turpentine, why therefore can we not once a year keep away for a day or two from rooms that have been fumigated with turpentine. It is, however, surprising how small a quantity of turpentine is required: a small piece of paper or linen just moistened therewith, and put into the wardrobe or drawers for a single day two or three times a year is a sufficient preservative against moth. A small quantity of turpentine dissolved in a little spirits of wine (the vapour of which is also fatal to the moth) will entirely remove the offensive odour, and yet be a sufficient preservative.

The fumes of burning paper, wool, linen, feathers, and of leather, are also effectual, for the insects perish in any thick smoke; but the most effectual smoke is that of tobacco. A coat smelling but slightly of tobacco is sufficient to preserve a whole drawer. We trust our fair readers will not scold us for thus affording

abundant on the continent, as frequently to deprive the weary traveller of his night's rest. If he would provide himself with a phial containing turpentine and spirits of wine in equal parts, and would sprinkle a few drops over the sheets and coverlid before retiring to rest, he will probably have reason to be grateful for the hint. Foreigners are in the habit of smoking in their bed-rooms-a habit which excites surprise and diss in England; it will now be seen, however, that there is a reason for the practice.

In concluding this long article we may sum up the whole with a short word of advice, in the form of a household recipe.

TO KEEP AWAY THE MOTH.

Before folding up and putting away your winter blankets, furs, and other articles, sprinkle them, or smear them over with a few drops of oil of turpentine either alone or mixed with an equal bulk of spirits wine. No stain will be left, and if spirits of wine be used, the odour is not disagreeable. C. T.

THE LIVING AND THE DEAD.
AN IRISH SKETCH.
BY MRS. HOARE.

IN common with other imaginative and half-civilisi |
people, the lower orders of Irish have many wild supe
stitions connected with death. Not a mere cold beli
but a firm and lively faith in the existence of "a wil
beyond the grave," fills their minds with a vivid co-
viction that their departed friends are with them and
around them still. "Not lost, but gone before," is
truth ever present to the warm-hearted Irishman; be
continues to associate his buried ones in all the cas
and pleasures of existence, and that in an every-day sta
lifelike manner, which would often border on th
ludicrous, did not the wild pathos, the genuine poetry,
that clothe the expression of his mourning, seem fal
to redeem it from any touch of vulgar association.

The little damsel who, in Wordsworth's toating ballad, so repeatedly asserted "We are seven," eaght have been a native of our Green Isle; for there m childish heart holds the loving faith that cheered th little churchyard lingerer. The anxious care a stowed by the very poorest peasant on the obsequis his relative, shows that he believes the latter still ex nizant of his actions: all business, however impor is postponed, whenever any funeral within a cin several miles is to be attended. To have " berrin, and all the neighbours at it," is the grand of an Irishman's solicitude, when he feels his proaching. Many an old boccough, the sum whose worldly possessions is borne on his back di being the tattered remnants of "Irish old d would probably not fetch a silver sixpence at the dealers, has died with a sum of money stitched in fragment of a waistcoat, and encircled with a serv joining those who find it "to bury him dacent, or his sperrit will haunt them for evermore." The in tion, coupled with such a penalty, is, I believe, never obeyed. In the lack of relatives, professed keeners hired, whose practised tones of woe sound in their w cadence so like the burst of real grief, that it is of only by watching the unmoved countenance and quivering lips of the old crones, one can disting their mourning from that of the wife or mother of lat dead.

1

On a fine day in Autumn, about two years since, as a Well," continued my friend, "you believe, what we friend of mine, who resides in a wild district of the deny, that there is a third place, which you call pursouth, was walking on the road near his house, he over-gatory; but by all accounts it is a very hot place-what took a countryman returning from the next markettown. He was a stout middle-aged man, tolerably welldressed, and evidently belonging to the class of small farmers. After the customary salutations, (in no country do strangers meeting casually on the road greet each other more cordially than in Ireland,) Mr.- entered into conversation with him, as they walked along together.

and trampled beds, they ran across, thinking not of
the mischief they were doing one whom, nevertheless,
they all loved and respected. They gained the church-
yard, but owing to the intervening hedges, which had Į
to be surmounted, their rivals were there before them.
""Tis no good for ye, ye mane spalpeens," shouted
the leader of the mountain party. "Twas well we
licked ye last fair day, when poor Denis was to the
fore,-and why wouldn't we do as much now to save
him from demaning himself by being water-carrier te
one of your breed. Hurroo for the Cartys!"
And, without waiting for his foe's retort, which was
by no means slack or slow in coming, he brandished
his shillelagh, and, followed by his friends, rushed on të
the combat. Furious and deadly would have been the
affray,-indeed, at its conclusion, the candidates for
sepulture would scarcely have been limited to two, be
just at the critical moment, five or six well-armed
peelers" were seen advancing. The constable whe
headed them was a shrewd elderly man, thoroughly
versed in the character of the people, and "up" to all
their ways. He did not make any hostile demonstra
tion, but interposing boldly between the parties,

is quick beyond expression-he immediately either | With the most reckless disregard of crushed flowers i shelters himself under a most natural appearance of stupid civility, agreeing with every thing your Honour says; or, if the humour takes him, and that he sees you are a British tourist, bent on making yourself thoroughly acquainted with all the chameleon shades of Irish character during a three weeks' excursion, he will be likely to cram you with a series of as improbable, not to say impossible fictions, as ever graced the hotpressed pages perpetrated by an errant and arrant cockney. Those, however, who reside amongst them, and converse with them skilfully and kindly, without betraying any latent disposition to mock, will often discover curious corners and recesses of the Irish mind. Old customs and traditions also, lingering among the pagan monuments to which they probably owe their origin, are often, when explained, interesting alike to the poet and the antiquary. In later times the imaginative spirit, which still dwells amidst our highlands, has given form and consistency to many a strange idea connected with the abode and occupations of the dead. I was struck with an instance of this which fell lately under my own observation, in the mountain district of the south to which I have before alluded. A belief is entertained there, and very generally, I think, in other places, that the last person interred in a churchyard is compelled to draw water for the refreshment of the souls in purgatory, until he is relieved by a new comer. When, therefore, it happens that two funerals are fixed to take place on the same day, the hurry, the racing, the fighting that occur between the rival parties, each wanting to secure precedence of interment for their friend, defy all description. On such occasions it will sometimes happen that the coffins are fractured in the struggle, and the cold ghastly faces of their occupants become exposed, presenting a horrid and reproachful contrast to the flushed angry countenances that surround them. Sometimes the scene ends in bloodshed; more frequently the weaker party yield the pas, with a bad grace, indeed, and generally inspired with thoughts of peace by the cogent arguments of the officiating pastor's horsewhip, which, potent in its office as the trident of Neptune,-pungent in its application as the sceptre of Ulysses, when it visited Thersites' back, seldom fails to quell a rising tumult.

In the village of I-- there is an old churchyard whose narrow precincts are already filled with graves; yet, as it lies in the centre of a large parish, funerals arrive there very frequently. The grounds of a friend of mine adjoin it; his flower garden is, indeed, divided from it only by two low fences, and a narrow lane between, so that the inexpressibly mournful tones of the Irish cry are often heard distinctly there, contrasting painfully with the sweet song of birds, and all the joyous melodies of summer time. One day, as Mr. was standing in his garden, he saw a long procession appearing on the brow of the opposite hill. It wound slowly down a path made through the heather, and the wild sound of wailing that floated faintly on the breeze, told the reason of the sad array. As they approached nearer, the bearers of the coffin quickened their pace almost to a run, followed by their companions; and when they reached the road which led towards the churchyard, they dashed forward with a speed most unsuited to their solemn errand. The reason was soon

evident. Passing a turn of the road, in the opposite direction, there appeared another funeral approaching with equal rapidity. At the moment that they came in sight, both parties were about equally near the goal; and it seemed impossible to tell which would win the race. A race indeed it was, for the rival bearers, exchanging a loud shout of defiance, rushed on as rapidly as if no burden rested on their shoulders. Arrived at Mr. 's gate, the people from the mountain saw that their direct path lay across his lawn and garden, and that, by rushing through, they might gain on the enemy. No sooner thought of than accomplished.

"For shame, boys," he said, "for shame, to be fight ing and destroying one another over the cold corpses of them that desarve better usage at your hands."

"Mr. Nagle," said the leader of the Callaghans lowering his brandished cudgel,-a pacific movement which produced a pause between the combatants of both sides,-" I'm satisfied to lave it all to you, for ts well known you're an honest, sinsible man; though, not being of our profession, 'tisn't rasonable to suppose you'd feel the same as we do in regard of the other world. Howandever, you see, we won the race fair; and put it to you, now, is it right that them shingsus forninst you should bury their friend first, and have Thady Callaghan attending the likes of him wità water?"

"Hould yer tongue!" exclaimed the warlike chief of the Cartys; tis happy and proud the best Callaghat that ever handled a spade ought to be, to put his hands under the feet of a Carty! Whether or no, we're re as well as you, and the never a sod shall be laid t blessed day on Tade Callaghan's grave, till we have ocz own Denis handsomely settled."

"Tis a folly to talk that way, man, while every mother's son of us here is able and willing to g you-ay, and to take the consate well out of you, to and show that your fists, at the best of times, ar aqual to yer tongues."

"Oh! as to prate and palaver," retorted his adversary, "'tis aisy seen who has the most of it; but, you „ne as well get holy wather out of a minister's wig, as œ standing argufying here with me."

"1

"Whist, boys, whist, with that unsignified talk." said Nagle, "and let me insense you at wanst into rights of the matter. 'Tis a sin and a shame for af two sets of Christians, let alone neighbours, to s fighting with one another, like wild bastes, over Lis bodies of the dead. Callaghans and Cartys, you sEET “É both of you to come up purty much about the same ti Now, I'd like to know what's to hinder Father JerryI see him coming towards us now, walking, poor ma as fast as the gout will let him-what's to hinder hi I say, from standing right between the two graves, and reading the service for both at wanst. Then you ma lower the two corpses into the ground exactly at the same moment; so that Sir Isaac Newton himself, tha flogged the world at algebra, couldn't tell which wound have to draw the first pail of water."

This well-timed suggestion seemed to give gener satisfaction. It was immediately acted upon, to the great joy and relief of the good Father Jerry, what

1 This sentence was taken down, verbatim, from the lips di countryman, a few weeks since.