Indeed, it would seem reasonable to suppose that it is only by clinging to some portion of the material form that specific reproduction would be most practicable here; for vegetable, like mineral, consciousness is so little differentiated, its monadic base so general and diffused, that a total abandonment of the material form is to be expected to prove the exception rather than the rule. Where plants are reproduced from the seed - in many seeds plainly, and probably in all if we had the proper means of examination - the form of the plant to be reproduced is already partially expressed in terms of matter. Witness the Hindu emblem of immortality, the lotus, and all cotyledonous plants. In fact, the essential part of any seed is the embryo, upon which one or more leaves are often capable of being distinguished. There is no doubt that nature - elementals can and do really incarnate any ideal form by starting from a single cell, and that any lost form could be so reproduced; but the inquiries undertaken in this chapter do not lie along this particular line.

It is reincarnation we are studying - not incarnation in general terms.

This incomplete reincarnation is universal upon all planes, but of course is most marked in the comparatively low vegetable kingdom. Every tree that puts forth flower and foliage with returning spring exemplifies the law. Ripened fields of grain proclaim its completion; the lichen, "creeping up out of the rock," rejoicing in its new vesture, bears witness to the ebb and flow of the Eternal Motion, the "Great Breath," the Force-Aspect of the Causeless Cause, as it bears on its bosom the myriad hosts of nature-elementals, now clothed in objective form, now resting in the unconscious subjective arcs of their cycles of existence.

Passing to the animal kingdom, we find the evidences of specific reincarnation becoming more and more pronounced. Other elements of consciousness have been gradually added to the colorless base; differentiation has advanced farther, and anything but specific individual reincarnation has become more difficult in consequence. A distinct step, and one not observed in the vegetable kingdom, is seen in the metamorphosis of insects. Metamorphosis is, of course, but another exemplification of the repetition by nature of steps already taken in attaining a desired end; yet it is more. It shows a deliberate use of the old material, a reconstruction of a new form from outworn matter without permitting a dispersion of this, which plainly proves an unwillingness to enter subjective realms with the material connection entirely severed. As this connection was maintained in the vegetable kingdom by roots, seeds, and bulbs, so here it is accomplished by means of larvae, pupae, and perfect insects. Between the successive stages is a condition of almost perfect subjectivity - a Devachanic interlude from the insect standpoint, - followed by the return of the objective arc, which results in reincarnating the same individual in an entirely different body, constructed out of the old material.

Form, function, habit, are all so changed that nothing but the evidence of actual observation would convince us that the beautiful butterfly was the actual reincarnation and re-embodiment of the repulsive caterpillar.

It is interesting to note the preparation for metamorphosis, and its significance in several directions. Newport, quoted in Duncan's "Transformation of Insects," thus describes the process:

"When a full-grown larva is preparing to change into the pupa state, it becomes exceedingly restless, ceases to eat, and diminishes much in weight. Many species spin for themselves a covering of silk, termed a cocoon, or case, in which they await their transformation. Others prepare little cavities in the earth, and line them with silk, for the same purpose; and some suspend themselves by their hindermost legs to the under surface of a leaf. In each of these instances the important change takes place in the same manner. Before the larva thus prepares itself for metamorphosis, its alimentary canal is completely evacuated of its contents; its body becomes dry and shriveled, and much contracted in length; and certain enlargements at the sides of the anterior segments indicate the now rapidly developing parts of the future pupa.

"The larva of the butterfly either fastens itself by a little rope of silk carried across its thorax to the under surface of some object, as a ceiling, etc., or suspends itself vertically by its hind legs, with its head directed downwards, as is the case with the common nettle butterfly, Vanessa urticae. We have watched the changes with much care in this insect, which frequently remains thus suspended for more than ten or twenty hours before the transformation takes place. When that period has arrived the skin bursts along the back part of the first segment, or mesothorax, and is extended along the second and fourth, while the coverings of the head separate into three pieces. The insect then exerts itself to the utmost to extend the fissure along the segments of the abdomen, and, in the meantime pressing its body through the opening, gradually withdraws its antennae and legs, while the skin, by successive contortions of the abdomen, is slipped backwards, and forced towards the extremity of the body, just as a person would slip off his glove or stocking.

The efforts of the insect to entirely get rid of it are very great; it twists itself in every direction, in order to burst the skin, and when it has exerted itself in this manner for some time, twirls itself swiftly, first in one direction and then in the opposite, until at last the skin is broken through and falls to the ground, or is forced to some distance. The new pupa then hangs for a few seconds at rest."