M. Guérin-Méneville has called the silkworm "the dog of insects," for it has been domesticated from the most ancient times, and has become deprived of great part of its strength in the process. The moth of the silkworm can no longer keep its position in the air, or on the leaves of the mulberry when they are agitated by the wind. It can no longer protect itself, under the leaves, from the burning heat of the sun and from its enemies. The female, always motionless, seems to be ignorant of the fact that she has wings. The male no longer flies; he flutters round his companion, without quitting the ground. It ought, however, to be possessed in the wild state of a sufficiently powerful flight. M. Ch. Martins found that after three generations reared in the open air, the males recovered their lost power.
Before speaking of the different phases of the life of the silkworm and the rearing of this precious insect, we will notice the origin and progress of the silk trade, one of the most important branches of commerce in the South of Europe and in the East.
The native country of the silkworm is not better known than that of the greater number of plants and animals which form the staple of agricultural industry. Probably, however, it was China. It was certainly in this vast empire that long since the business of fabricating silk began. One reads the following in "L'Histoire générale de la Chine," by M. Mailla:—
"The Emperor Hoang-ti, who lived 2,600 years before our era, wished that Si-ling-chi, his wife, should contribute to the happiness of his people; he charged her to study the silkworm, and to try to utilise its threads. Si-ling-chi caused a great quantity of these insects to be collected, which she fed herself in a place destined exclusively for the purpose; she not only discovered the means of rearing them, but still further the manner of winding off their silk and of employing it in the manufacture of fabrics."
It may be asked, however, if the learned men who composed this recital did not collect under the reign of the emperor Hoang-ti all the events and all the discoveries whose dates were lost in the obscurity of the most remote periods of history. Is not the Empress Si-ling-chi a mythical person? a sort of Chinese Ceres, to whom, under the title of goddess of the silkworm, they then raised altars?
Here, at any rate, is how Duhalde[50] analyses the recital of the Chinese annalists on the remarkable fact of the introduction of the silkworm and its rich products into the Chinese empire:—
"Up to the time of this queen (Si-ling-chi)," says he, "when the country was only lately cleared and brought into cultivation, the people employed the skins of animals as clothes. But these skins were no longer sufficient for the multitude of the inhabitants; necessity made them industrious; they applied themselves to the manufacture of cloth wherewith to cover themselves. But it was to this princess that they owed the useful invention of silk stuffs. Afterwards, the empress, named by Chinese authors, according to the order of their dynasties, found an agreeable occupation in superintending the hatching, rearing, and feeding of silkworms, in making silk, and working it up when made. There was an enclosure attached to the palace for the cultivation of mulberry trees.
"The empress, accompanied by queens and the greatest ladies of the court, went in state into this inclosure, and gathered with her own hand the leaves of three branches which her ladies in waiting had lowered till they were within her reach; the finest pieces of silk which she made herself, or which were made by her orders and under her own eye, were destined for the ceremony of the grand sacrifice offered to Chang-si. ([Plate V.])
"It is probable," adds Duhalde, "that policy had more to do than anything else with all this trouble taken by the empresses. Their intention was to induce, by their example, the princesses and ladies of quality, and the whole people, to rear silkworms: in the same way as the emperors, to ennoble in some sort agriculture, and to encourage the people to undertake laborious works, never failed, at the beginning of each spring, to guide the plough in person, and with great state to plough up a few furrows, and in these sow some seed.
"As far as concerns the empresses, it is a long time since they have ceased to apply themselves to the manufacture of silk; one sees, nevertheless, in the precincts of the imperial palace, a large space covered with houses, the road leading to which is still called the road which leads to the place destined for the rearing of silkworms, for the amusement of the empresses and queens. In the books of the philosopher Mencius, is a wise police rule, made under the first reigns, which determines the space destined for the cultivation of mulberry trees, according to the extent of the land possessed by each private individual."