“Theourissia, bee-like in its size,Hummingfrom flower to flower delighted flies,And in a wondrous living rainbow drest,Shifts all its colors on its wings and breast.”
“Theourissia, bee-like in its size,
Hummingfrom flower to flower delighted flies,
And in a wondrous living rainbow drest,
Shifts all its colors on its wings and breast.”
Of all animated beings, this little bird is the most elegant in form, and superb in colors. The emerald, the ruby, and the topaz,sparkle in its plumage, which is never soiled by the dust of the ground. In Mr. Bullock’s Museum, Piccadilly, there is a case containing more than one hundredHumming-birds; and in the “Companion” to this delightfull repository of natural history, an interesting account is given of this little creature, that flutters from flower to flower, breathes their freshness, wantons on the wings of the cooling zephyrs, sips the nectar of a thousand sweets, and resides in climes where reigns the beauty of eternal spring.
The legs, the wings, the bones, even all parts of their bodies, are much lighter, firmer, and more compact in birds than in other animals. Their lungs are extended over all the cavities of their bodies. Carniverous birds, like carniverous quadrupeds, have but one stomach, where their food is moistened or swelled; a gizzard, which is a very hard muscle, almost cartilaginous, and which they commonly fill with small stones, where the food is afterwards ground, in order to facilitate its complete digestion. In birds there is no ruminating: but in such as are not carniverous, the food is immediately swallowed into the crop, or anti-stomach (which is observed in many, especially piscivorous birds,) where it is moistened by some proper juice, and then transferred to the gizzard, by the working of whose muscles, assisted by small pebbles, swallowed for that purpose, it is ground small, and so transmitted to the intestines.
Birds we find supplied with a corney substance, instead of teeth and lips. Their bills are cut into various shapes, adapted to their different habits. The sharp edge and tempered point of the Sparrow’s beak, enables it to pick every seed from its concealment; breaking the grain to obtain the kernel. The hooked beak of the Hawk separates, like a dissector’s knife, the flesh from the bones of the animals on which it preys. The spoon-bill of the Goose enables her to graze, and collect food from the bottoms of the pools. Birds of the Crane kind, which seek their food among the waters, having no web-feet, are supplied with long legs for wading, or long bills for groping, and usually both: these are admirably adapted to the shallow pools of water, or sides of rivers, which they frequent. But in birds living by suction, they are serrated, or tooth-like; these do not serve the purpose of teeth, but act as a sieve, or strainer, separating nicely from mud some nutriment conducive to the preservation of life.
The sense of seeing in birds is remarkably acute; and though their want of external ears is supplied by only two small orifices or ear-holes, yet they do not appear deficient in hearing. The scent of some species is exquisitely delicate. Men who attend decoys where ducks are caught, generally keep a piece of turf lighted, on which they breathe, lest the fowls should smell them and fly away. The voice of birds is much louder in proportion to their size, than that of other animals; for in fact, the bellowing of an Ox is not heard at a much greater distance than the scream of a Peacock.
The covering of birds is perhaps one of the most beautiful. Their feathers are light, smooth, and warm, inclining backward, downy at the stem, overlapping at their tips, beautifully variegated, and forming a raiment, varying in circumstances, so as always to suit the habits of the bird. The construction of a single feather is “a mechanical wonder.” We see at the stem, a tough, light, pliant, and elastic material, only found in feathers; also the pith, which feeds the feathers, a substance peculiar to that purpose; likewise the beard, which grows on each side of the stem, and is stripped off when making pens, the separate threads of which are called filaments, or rays. These appear stronger when pressed perpendicularly to their plane, than when rubbed either up or down in the line of the stem; and this arises from the laminæ, of which these beards are composed, being flat, and placed with their flat sides towards each other. Hence, though they are easily made to approximate each other, yet they require more force in a contrary direction, having to encounter the impulse of the air, which requires more strength. We find also, that these threads, in their natural state, unite; and cannot, be parted without force, although not joined by any glutinous adhesion, but by a mechanical contrivance. And, if separated by force or accident, when brought together they immediately reclasp, resuming their former smoothness. These threads are interlaced with each other, by means of a vast number of fibres, or teeth, which they protrude on each side; fifty of these have been counted in 1-20th of an inch: they are curved after a different manner from the filaments on which they grow. Those which proceed from the side toward the beginning of the quill-end, are shorter, firmer, and turn upward. Those on the side toward the extremity of the feather, are longer, more flexible, and bent downward. They therefore act thus; when the two laminæ are pressed together, so that the long fibres are forced far enough over the short ones, their crooked parts fall into the cavity made by the crooked parts of the others, just as a latch enters the cavity of a catch on the door post. All this beautiful structure may be seen by the microscope. In the Ostrich, whose feathers, or other filaments, hang loose like down, this mechanism is wanting. But as this bird does not fly, and requires assistance only in running, perhaps this formation is best adapted for that purpose. Small birds, which do not migrate in the winter season, have the inner side of their feathers black, because this is the warmest color: hence the heat of the bird is prevented from escaping.
The feathers of birds appear to be nourished and preserved in a remarkable manner; especially those that much frequent waters, for they have a larger supply of oily substance, with which to trim them. Lest the feathers should be injured by exposure to the air, every bird is furnished with a gland situated on the rump, containing a proper quantity of oil, which it presses out with its beak, andwith which it occasionally anoints them. In water fowls, this oil is so plentiful, that it even imparts a degree of rancidity to the flesh; and by it, their plumy coat is rendered completely waterproof.
As God made the fowls “that they might fly in the firmament of heaven,” so has he adapted the form of their bodies, and the structure and disposition of their plumage, for that very purpose. The head and neck in flying, are drawn principally within the breastbone, so that the whole underpart exhibits the appearance of a ship’s hull. The wings are used as sails, or rather oars, and the tail as a helm or rudder. By means of these, the creature is not only able to preserve the centre of gravity, but also to accelerate its speed through the air, either straight forward, circularly in any kind of angle, as well as upward or downward. Though the greatest part of the aërial creation are adorned with feathers, yet has the Deity enabled several to fly without them; such as the Bat, one species of Lizard, two sorts of fishes, and numberless kinds of insects.
The skill with which birds erect their houses, and adjust their apartments, is inimitable. The caution with which they conceal them from the searching eye, or intruding hand, is admirable. They fix their nests on the pliant branches that wave aloft in the air, or are suspended over the flowing stream: by these means the vernal gales rock their cradle, and the murmuring waters lull their young; while both concur to terrify their enemies, and have a tendency to prohibit their approach. Some hide their downy offspring from view, amidst the shelter of entangled furze. Others, with wary solicitude, place them in the centre of a thorny thicket. And thus, by a variety of expedients, they are generally as secure, as if intrenched behind an impregnable mound.
“Some to the holly-hedgeNestling repair, and to the thicket some;Some to the rude protection of the thornCommit their feeble offspring: the cleft treeOffers its kind concealment to a few,Their food its insects, and its moss their nests.Others apart, far in the grassy dale,Or roughening waste, their humble texture weave.But most in woodland solitudes delight,In unfrequented glooms, or shaggy banks,Steep, and divided by a babbling brook,Whose murmurs soothe them all the live-long day,When by kind duty fixed. Among the rootsOf hazel, pendent o’er the plaintive stream,They frame the first foundation of their domes;Dry sprigs of trees, in artful fabric laid,And bound with clay together. Now ‘tis noughtBut restless hurry through the busy air,Beat by unnumbered wings. The Swallow sweepsThe slimy pool, to build his hanging houseIntent. And often, from the careless backOf herds and flocks, a thousand tugging billsPluck hair and wool; and oft, when unobserved,Steal from the barn a straw: till soft and warmClean and complete, their habitation grows.”
“Some to the holly-hedge
Nestling repair, and to the thicket some;
Some to the rude protection of the thorn
Commit their feeble offspring: the cleft tree
Offers its kind concealment to a few,
Their food its insects, and its moss their nests.
Others apart, far in the grassy dale,
Or roughening waste, their humble texture weave.
But most in woodland solitudes delight,
In unfrequented glooms, or shaggy banks,
Steep, and divided by a babbling brook,
Whose murmurs soothe them all the live-long day,
When by kind duty fixed. Among the roots
Of hazel, pendent o’er the plaintive stream,
They frame the first foundation of their domes;
Dry sprigs of trees, in artful fabric laid,
And bound with clay together. Now ‘tis nought
But restless hurry through the busy air,
Beat by unnumbered wings. The Swallow sweeps
The slimy pool, to build his hanging house
Intent. And often, from the careless back
Of herds and flocks, a thousand tugging bills
Pluck hair and wool; and oft, when unobserved,
Steal from the barn a straw: till soft and warm
Clean and complete, their habitation grows.”
If the Swan has large sweeping wings, and a copious stock of feathers, to spread over his callow young; the Wren supplies by contrivance what is wanting in her bulk. Though small, she has to nurse a very numerous issue; therefore with surprising sagacity designs, and with wonderful diligence finishes her nest, being a neat oval, bottomed and vaulted over with a regular concave, within made soft with down, without thatched with moss, and having only a small aperture left for her entrance.
“It wins my admiration,To view the structure of that little work,A bird’s nest. Mark it well within, without.No tool had he that wrought, no knife to cut,No nail to fix, no bodkin to insert,No glue to join: his little beak was all,And yet how neatly finished!“
“It wins my admiration,
To view the structure of that little work,
A bird’s nest. Mark it well within, without.
No tool had he that wrought, no knife to cut,
No nail to fix, no bodkin to insert,
No glue to join: his little beak was all,
And yet how neatly finished!“
By this means, the animating heat of her body is greatly increased during the time of incubation. And her young no sooner burst the shell, than they find themselves screened from the annoyance of weather, and comfortably reposed, till they gather sufficient strength and plumage in their warm recess, to make their first essay into the wide expanse.
As to the succession of this class of animals, some are endued with a remarkable power of propagating, while others are confined within narrow limits. In general, the least animals, and those which are useful and serve for nourishment to the greatest number of other animals, are the most prolific. The Hawk kind generally lay not more than two eggs, or at most four; while the Poultry species produce from 50 to 100. The Diver, or Loon, which is eaten by a few animals, lays also two eggs; but the Duck kind, the Moorgame, Partridges, &c., and small birds, lay a very great number. If we suppose two pigeons to hatch nine times a year, they may produce in four years 14,760 young!
Birds generate in that particular season which supplies them with a stock of provisions, sufficient, not only for themselves, but for their increasing families. They hatch their young when new-born insects swarm on every side. So that the caterer, whether it be the male or female parent, needs only alight on the ground, or make a short excursion into the air, to find a repast ready dressed for the tender charge at home. The love they have for their offspring, while helpless, is invincibly strong.152They nurse them with the greatest care, caress them with affectionate notes, put food into their mouths, cherish and keep them warm, teach them to pick, eat, and gather food: whereas, the moment they are able to provide for themselves, this anxious care vanishes as though it hadnever been. The Hen, while catering for her little brood, would fly at a mastiff in their defence: yet, in a few weeks, leaves them to their own protection, not regarding them any more than others of the same species.
They also provide their food with admirable art, which dexterity they bring into the world with them. Some birds, though not aquatic, live on fish: and must necessarily find it more difficult to seize their prey than Water-fowl. From whence do they derive this natural instinct? They stand on the brink of the liquid element, and when a shoal of fish comes (which they can discover at a distance,) they pursue them, skim along the surface, suddenly dive into the water, and carry off a fish.153Who gave the birds of prey their piercing sight, undaunted courage, and the destructive weapons, without which they could not possibly subsist? Who points out to the Stork the place where she may find frogs154and insects for her support? In order to procure these, she must seek them not only in meadows, but also in the furrows of fields; and continue her search till the approach of morning, when the other birds awake and begin to quit their places of retreat. What amazing strength must the Condor have, seeing it can carry away a sheep, a deer, and even prey on the ox itself! How can we reconcile that maternal instinct which causes the quail to adopt little birds of every species, which she not only takes under her protection, but bestows on them her tenderest cares! What cunning does the Crow use to secure the prey, which she cannot devour at once? She hides it in places such as other Crows do not frequent, and when hungry again, how well does she know where she has deposited it!155
There are also several birds, which, when food begins to fail, hide themselves in the earth, or in caves, in a torpid state, during the winter. We are assured, at least, that before the approach of this season, the Strand-Swallows conceal themselves in the earth; the Wall-Swallows repair to the holes of trees and old buildings; and the House, or Common Swallows seek for ponds, where they fasten themselves in pairs, cling to roots or weeds, continue without motion, and apparently without life, till the return of spring, when they are re-animated, and return from that state of torpidity.
The infinitely wise Creator has given different instincts to birds; none of which is superfluous, or useless, but each is indispensably necessary to the preservation and well-being of the animal. The motion of birds not only requires strength and well-formed pliant limbs, but also instinct to direct their movements. They have each two feet; but their bodies do not rest perpendicularly on them, for they project both before and behind; and yet a chick will stand upright and run about almost as soon as it leaves the shell. Young Ducks, just hatched by a Hen, know their own element, and swim about in the water without example or instruction. Other birds know how to rise up from their nests into the air, balance themselves, pursue their course, make equal strokes with their wings in true time, stretch out their feet to equipoise their bodies, use their tails like an oar or rudder, to direct their flight, and make long journeys from their native country to unknown regions.
The migration of birds is truly astonishing! Very few spend the winter with us: the Yellow-Hammer, the Chaffinch, the Crow, the Raven, the Sparrow, the Wren, the Partridge, the Robin, and the Fieldfare, are the principal. Most of the others eitherretire to some invisible resort, or leave us entirely. Some kinds of birds, without taking any high flight, or setting off in troops, draw gradually towards the south, to seek those seeds and fruits which are most congenial to their taste; but they speedily return. Others, which are termed “birds of passage,” collect at certain seasons in large flocks, and fly off to other climates; they even cross the seas, and make excursions of a surprising length. The best known birds of this description are, the Quail, the Swallow, the Wild-Duck, the Plover, the Snipe, and the Crane, with some others, which subsist on worms. In spring, the Cranes pass from Africa into Europe, in order to enjoy a more temperate climate. They migrate in flocks like clouds; and sometimes, their strength being nearly exhausted, alight on ships, and are taken without any difficulty. Swallows act in a different way: while some continue in Europe, and seclude themselves from our view as already observed, others cross the seas. Wild-Ducks and Cranes also repair at the approach of winter to milder climates. They all assemble on a certain day, and take their flight together. They commonly arrange themselves in two lines, united in one point like an inverted ʌ, with a bird at the head, and others following in the lines: whose beaks always rest on the tails of those preceding. The leader holds only a temporary commission: and having relinquished his charge, rests himself, and is replaced by another. But all birds of passage do not take their departure in flocks: for there are some which travel alone; and others with their females and young. It has been computed that they may easily go 200 miles in six hours each day, supposing they can take rest at intervals, or during the night. According to this calculation, they may pass from our climates to the Equinoctial line in seven or eight days! This conjecture has been verified; for Swallows have been seen on the coast of Senegal on the 9th of October, which was eight or nine days after their leaving Europe.
These migrations are wonderful in every point of view! Doubtless the difference of heat and cold, and want of food, apprize them of the necessity of changing their abode. But what reason can be assigned for their departure at the appointed time, when the season is sufficiently mild, and food still in abundance, to invite their continuance among us? How do they know that other climates will afford them necessary food and warmth? By what operative power are they impelled to make this exit at the same period, as if preconcerted by mutual agreement? How can they, notwithstanding the darkness of the nights, the perplexity of the road, and the remoteness of the countries to which they are destined, still hold on in a direct course? Nature does not teach them all this art, industry, and penetration, which so much surprise us: if we separate nature from its great Author, it is then a word destitute of meaning.
“Nature is but a name for an effect,Whose cause is God.”
“Nature is but a name for an effect,
Whose cause is God.”
It is He alone who gives wisdom to the fowls of the air.
God’s superintendence over birds is particularly noticed by our Saviour. “Behold the fowls of the air; for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them.” God extends his providential care to all his creatures, not only to those which are domesticated and receive their supplies from men, but also to the fowls of the air. By a natural instinct they know how to select that kind of food which is suitable for aliment, and where to procure it; but they are without any particular solicitude and forecast: nor have they need of these, because God takes care to provide for them. St. Luke mentions the Ravens, which are carniverous creatures. “Consider,” says he, “the ravens: for they neither sow nor reap; which neither have storehouse nor barn: and God feedeth them.” God asks Job, “Who provideth for the raven his food?” There are but three things which concern such creatures; how their craving appetites may be satiated, where they may repose, and by what means they may be protected from the incursions of their enemies: and for all these God has amply provided. He takes care of their food: “he giveth food to the young ravens which cry,” and are the most helpless of all creatures. Naturalists observe, that the Raven exposes her young ones as soon as they are hatched, leaves them to provide for themselves, and struggle with hunger as soon as they emerge into life; so they certainly would perish, if Providence did not interfere in their behalf. But God makes them his charge, and supplies their voracious cravings in due time, whether by the insect, the reptile, or the dew from heaven. He protects their rest, and renders their habitations places of refuge and safety. “The trees of the Lord are full of sap: the cedars of Lebanon which he hath planted; where the birds make their nests: as for the Stork, the fir-trees are her house.”
The meanest classes of sensitive beings are endued with the faculty of instinct: a sagacity which is neither derived from observation, nor awaits the finishing hand of experience; which without a tutor teaches them all necessary skill, and enables them, without a pattern, to perform every needful operation. And what is more remarkable, it never misleads them, either into erroneous principles, or pernicious practices: nor ever fails to aid them in the most nice and difficult of their undertakings.—The inhabitants of the hive subsist as a regular community.
——“AsbeesIn Spring-time, when the sun with Taurus rides,Pour fourth their populous youth about the hiveIn clusters; they among fresh dews and flowersFly to and fro, or on the smoothed plank,The suburb of their straw-built citadel,New rubbed with balm, expatiate and conferTheir state affairs: so thick the aëry crowdSwarmed and were straitened.”
——“Asbees
In Spring-time, when the sun with Taurus rides,
Pour fourth their populous youth about the hive
In clusters; they among fresh dews and flowers
Fly to and fro, or on the smoothed plank,
The suburb of their straw-built citadel,
New rubbed with balm, expatiate and confer
Their state affairs: so thick the aëry crowd
Swarmed and were straitened.”
Their indulgent Creator has given them all implements necessary either for constructing combs, or composing honey. Bees have each a portable vessel, in which they bring home their collected sweets: and have the most commodious storehouses, wherein to deposit them. They readily distinguish every plant, which affords materials for their business; and are complete practitioners in the arts of separation and refinement. Aware that the vernal bloom and summer sun are but for a season, they improve to the utmost every shining hour, and lay up a stock sufficient to supply the whole society, till their flowery harvest shall return.
Insects, which some persons may consider as so many rude scraps of creation, ought to be classed among the most polished pieces of Divine workmanship.
——“In the vast and the minuteThe unambiguous footsteps of the God,Who gives its lustre to an insect’s wing,And wheels his throne upon the rolling worlds.”
——“In the vast and the minute
The unambiguous footsteps of the God,
Who gives its lustre to an insect’s wing,
And wheels his throne upon the rolling worlds.”
“The first state in which insects appear, is that of theovumor egg; from the egg is hatched the insect in its larva or caterpillar state. The larva, or maggot, crawls on many feet, and is extremely voracious, devouring the herbage, and stripping trees of their leaves. When the time arrives in which the larva or caterpillar is to change into the next state, namely, that of chrysalis, orpupa, it ceases to feed; and having placed itself in some quiet situation for the purpose, lies still for several hours; and then by a kind of laborious effort, frequently repeated, divests itself of its external skin, or larva coat, and immediately appears in the very different form of a chrysalis orpupa. From this state emerges, at length, the insect, in its complete or ultimate form, from which it can never change; nor can it receive any further increase of growth. This last stage is denominatedimago.”
“Waked by his warmer ray, the reptile youngCome winged abroad; by the light air upborne,Lighter, and full of soul. From every chink,And secret corner, where they slept awayThe wintery storms; or rising from their tombs,To higher life; by myriads, forth at once,Swarming they pour; of all the varied huesTheir beauty-beaming parent can disclose.Ten thousand forms! ten thousand different tribes!People the blaze.”
“Waked by his warmer ray, the reptile young
Come winged abroad; by the light air upborne,
Lighter, and full of soul. From every chink,
And secret corner, where they slept away
The wintery storms; or rising from their tombs,
To higher life; by myriads, forth at once,
Swarming they pour; of all the varied hues
Their beauty-beaming parent can disclose.
Ten thousand forms! ten thousand different tribes!
People the blaze.”
Many of them are decked with the richest finery. Their eyes are an assemblage of microscopes. The common Fly, for instance, perpetually surrounded with enemies, having neither strength to resist, nor a retreat to secure herself, has need to be very vigilant, and always on her guard: but her head is so fixed that she cannot turn it to see her danger; Providence, therefore, to supply this apparent defect, has given her more than a legion of eyes, insomuch that a single Fly is supposed to have no less than eight thousand. Nay, it is asserted that the common Dragon-fly is furnished with25,000 of these diminutive lenses! By the help of this truly amazing apparatus, she sees on every side, with the utmost ease and speed, though without any motion of the eye, or inflection of the neck. The dress of insects is a vesture of resplendent colors, bespangled with an arrangement of the brightest gems.
“The littlegnat, in beauties, may compareWith all his rival brothers of the air;Transparent feathers, purple, green and gold,His wings, small feet, and gay-fringed tail enfold.Four sharpened spears his head with weapons arm,And his pearled eyes with liveliest graces charm.In down of ev’ry variegated dyeShines, fluttering soft, the gaudybutterfly,That powder which thy spoiling hand disdains,The forms of quills and painted plumes contains;Nor courts can more magnificence express,In all their blaze of gems and pomp of dress.”
“The littlegnat, in beauties, may compare
With all his rival brothers of the air;
Transparent feathers, purple, green and gold,
His wings, small feet, and gay-fringed tail enfold.
Four sharpened spears his head with weapons arm,
And his pearled eyes with liveliest graces charm.
In down of ev’ry variegated dye
Shines, fluttering soft, the gaudybutterfly,
That powder which thy spoiling hand disdains,
The forms of quills and painted plumes contains;
Nor courts can more magnificence express,
In all their blaze of gems and pomp of dress.”
The expansion of their wings displays the finest texture imaginable, compared to which lawn is as course as sackcloth. The cases, which inclose their wings, glitter with the finest varnish, are scooped into ornamental flutings, studded with radiant spots, or pinked with elegant holes. Not one but is endued with weapons to seize his prey, and dexterity to escape his foe, to despatch the business of his station, and enjoy the pleasure of his condition. It is affirmed that the female of the common house-fly is capable of producing 20 millions 80 thousand 320; hence we cannot wonder at their swarming so much in autumn.
[Our author has devoted very few remarks indeed toinsects; yet the history of this class of creatures is as interesting as any other, and is attracting considerable attention. Their history is very far from being complete: theirnumberis not known. They inhabit the air, water, and earth. This family of creatures is calledinsects, because of thearticulationsof the body, so as to appear notched, or intersected. A brief notice of some of their principal parts follows, which is chiefly taken from No. VIII, of the Family Library, published by J. & J. Harper, New-York.Mouth.—All insects eitherdividetheir food, orsuckit. In those which divide their food, the parts of the mouth are, an upper lip, and an under lip fixed to a piece called the chin; between these two there are four lateral pieces, two on each side; the two upper are called mandibles, the two lower, jaws. The mandibles, or upper jaws cut the food: the lower jaws divide and masticate it.The mouth of those insects which suck their food, is elongated into a tongue or proboscis. This is a tube attached to the head. In some it is composed of two pieces connected by a joint; for if it were constantly extended it would be too much exposed to accidental injuries: therefore, in its indolent state it is securely doubled up by means of this joint. In some species, as the butterfly, the proboscis, when not in use, is coiled up like a watch-spring. In some it is shut up in a sharp-pointed sheath, which is of firmer texture than the proboscis, and by which the insect pierces the food, and then opens it withinthe wound to allow the proboscis to perform its office by extracting the juice.Antennæ.—These are very slender arms resembling hairs, which project from the heads of almost all insects. There are generally two to each insect, which diverge somewhat. The insects can move them in all directions, and when they are seen doing this it commonly suggests the idea that these antennæ arefeelers. However, their functions are not certainly known: some suppose them to be organs of sense.Eyes.—These are generally found in the head of insects. Their real number is, usually, two: the surfaces of which are cut into many small faces; more than seventeen thousand have been counted in the butterfly. Each face on the insect’s eye is considered as a crystalline lens, concave within, and convex without. They have no eye-lids.Thorax, or throat.—This is the second division of the body, and is placed directly behind the head. To the thorax are attached the wings and legs: commonly three legs on each side. Two membranes compose the wing, placed one above the other. Cords, or small nerves, are found in the upper one. The expansion of the wing is owing, as is supposed, to the introduction of a fluid, at the will of the insect, into hollow vessels which are detected in the composition of the wing.Abdomen.—This is the third division of the insect, and is immediately connected with the thorax by articulation: it is composed of rings from one to fifteen. Most of these rings have an open pore placed laterally, through which air has access to the fluids in the body. In some insects the last ring contains the anus; in others, the organs of generation; or the means of defence, as a sting.Muscles.—These are said to be disposed in bundles, the fibres of which are not connected by a cellular membrane: they are fixed to the hard parts, which are to be moved by horny tendons.The thorax contains the muscles which move the head up or down, and those also which move the wings and the feet. In some the muscles amount to four thousand. The muscular power of some of these insects is astonishing, as may be known by the distance they can leap: as the flea, and others, which leap two hundred times their own length. If man could do this he would leap at a single effort, more than one thousand feet.All insects are supposed to have a knotted nervous system. The knot nearest the head is composed of two lobes, from which nerves pass to the eyes, antennæ, and mouth.These are the principal common parts of insects. It would be a delightful task to enter into a minute description of their genera, species, habits, modes of life, subsistence, defence, attack, &c. Only two or three can be noticed, which must be taken as a specimen of the whole.TheBee.—This insect has attracted the attention of the observing in all ages. On a pleasant summer’s day the hive presents the appearance of a busy, and populous city—the gates appear to be crowded with many workmen—some going to search for food, andothers returning with it—some building—some tending the young—some cleansing the dwelling, and others carrying out the dead, and, apparently, performing some honorable sepulchral rites, &c.The hive.—The interior of a bee-hive is itself a world of wonders. It is not, as is commonly supposed, the same in the form of its construction in all hives, it varies according to circumstances. Yet there are some general principles which seem to be common to all honeycombs: they do not touch each other, but always are sufficiently far apart to allow room to work on the opposite faces of each comb. The combs are placed vertically in the hive, and each complete comb is composed of two layers of six-sided cells, united by a common base. These two layers of six-sided cells are not united by a common base with aflatbottom to each cell: but the hexagonal tube terminates at the bottom in athree-sided pyramidal cavity. The angle, formed at the apex of this pyramidal cavity, is 70° 32ʹ—and the angle formed at the base of the hexagonal tube, or cell, is 109° 28ʹ. By this construction Reaumur has demonstrated, that the bee has formed his comb on the only plan which could produce cells of a determinate size, equal and similar, in the strongest manner, occupying the least space, and requiring the least quantity of matter.The wax, out of which the cells are formed, is not the same simple substance as honey, extracted from the flowers: it seems to be elaborated by the bees in their bodies, and deposited under their bellies in the form of scales. It is produced from a nectar obtained from flowers, which is swallowed by the bee in the greatest possible quantity, after which the bee hangs motionless in the hive for twenty-four hours, during which time the wax is elaborated and deposited under the belly in thin scales resembling talc.Some of the cells are filled with honey, and some are found to contain the young bee in the condition of larva.The bees which inhabit a hive may be regarded as a community, which is found to be divided into three classes: the queen—the males—and the workers, which are of no sex.The Queen.—She is the common mother of the hive, and deposits all the eggs from which the young ones come: she appears to be in size between the males and workers, but longer than either.The attention or reverence, with which the queen-bee is regarded, is very remarkable. Upon withdrawing the queen from a hive the workers are thrown into the greatest consternation; they desist from work, run wildly through the hive, and refuse all nourishment. This they do for twenty-four hours, after which time a new queen will be received kindly, if offered them; but previously, they pay no attention to a strange queen, though introduced among them.If no queen can be found, Schirach discovered, and Huber has confirmed it,that the bees have power to create a queen, in the following manner. They build someroyalcells (for there are different kinds) into which they put the common worker-worm, i.e. the grub which produces the work-bee, and feed the insect with royal food, which is more pungent than the common bee-food; and in a few days they have a queen-bee produced, instead of a work-bee; then all is well.The queen is always attended with a train, which wait upon her, do her homage, caress and feed her, by presenting her with honey. If they lose their own queen, and a stranger queen is introduced, after twenty-four hours, they commence their reverence for the new sovereign by surrounding her, caressing her, feeding her, and opening a way for her when she moves.Their devotions to their queen do not cease if she become sterile, or die. Their veneration and tender attentions appear to increase towards the dead body of their queen. It is a well known fact, that the community perishes if they cannot procure a queen by any means.The combats of the queens.—The bees seem to be purely monarchial in their constitution of government. This will appear from the following extraordinary facts:If a strange queen be introduced into the hive where there is a queen, the working-bees immediately seize upon her, and detain her a prisoner: as soon as this is done, another party hastens away to the reigning queen and surround her. They then force the queens towards each other, in order to make them decide the sovereignty of the hive in mortal combat. The conquerer is cheerfully taken for the reigning sovereign.Nor is it difficult to bring the rival queens to an engagement: so soon as they recognize each other they rush furiously to the combat, and the one or the other quickly inflicts a mortal wound by piercing the belly of the antagonist between the rings, by means of the sting.So exclusive is the passion of the queen for sovereignty, that she puts to death the young queens, so soon as she ascertains them to be such. This she does even in the cells, before they have come forth.The male bees.—These seem not to have attracted much interest. They are not very numerous in the hive; generally not exceeding an hundred or two. They are the largest in size, and live perfectly idle.The working bees.—These, as their name imports, perform the labors of the hive. The details of their labors cannot be admitted here.There is one question, in regard to bees, which is difficult and curious: their senses. From the best observations, and experiments, it would seem as if the antennæ, or feelers, were the principal organs of sense. Upon taking away the queen, in about an hour some one bee discovers it, and becomes instantly agitated, and runs furiously about the hive: the first companion he meets they cross their feelers mutually, the discoverer giving his neighbor a gentle tap with the feeler, and he in turn commences running furiously about the hive, communicating the intelligence in a similar manner; until the whole hive is in an uproar.Huber introduced a queen to a hive, after twenty-four hours absence of their own queen. The working bees which were nearest immediately approached and touched her with their feelers, and passing their trunks over every part of her body, gave her honey. Then these gave place to others which treated her in a similar manner; and all, with a vibration of their wings, arranged themselves around their new sovereign.From some experiments of Huber, it seems that the antennæ, or feelers of bees are the organs of communication. He thinks they have no organ for hearing. Their power of vision is very clear and strong. Anciently, in New-England, the honey-hunters are said to have found the nest of wild bees in the following manner: they placed a plate of honey in the woods, and when the bees came to get it, they caught two or three of them, the bee-hunter would let one go, and observe his course, by a pocket compass, as he flew to the nest: he would then walk off at a right angle a few hundred yards, and let another bee go, and observe the course: the angle, or point at which these two lines, described by the flights of the bees, met, the hunter knew to be the place where the bee-nest was.The manner in which bees take their rest is a matter of curiosity. Some attach themselves to a part of the hive, by their fore-feet, and extend their hind-feet down: the next bee by his fore-feet takes hold of the hind-feet of the first bee, and thus suspends himself; others attach themselves in like manner, until they form clusters, or festoons. In this condition they take their rest.It will be interesting to learn something of thestingof the bee. It is situated in the lower end of the ringed-body: it is composed of three parts: the sheath, and two darts which are enclosed in it, very small and penetrating. The darts are barbed. When the bee strikes with its sting, the sharp and hard point of the hollow sheath strikes and penetrates first, and the two darts are immediately thrust into the incision made by the sheath; and at the same time the bee injects a poisonous liquor into the wound, which causes the pain and inflammation. In some instances the sting is struck in so deeply the bee cannot extricate it: in that case the wound is more painful, but the loss proves fatal to the bee.Destructive combats frequently take place between different hives; and many perish on both sides. Occasionally single combats, or duels, take place, which always prove fatal to one or the other. Instances are known, in which the bees of one hive plunder the bees of another. In this case a battle generally ensues. And what is more astonishing still, sometimes the hive-bees will, five or six of them, surround anhumble-bee, and rob him of his honey, as he is returning home of an evening. Indeed a whole volume might be written, and the natural history of the bee not be exhausted.Ants.—This insect has justly rivalled the bee in the admiration of the philosopher, and, on some accounts, is considered a more interesting creature. The instinct of this creature does not appear so strikingly as that of the bee: but it exhibits other and higher qualities, approaching to the cardinal virtues of man: such as love, courage, patience, perseverance, &c. The proof of all these will be found in the few brief remarks which follow.There are various kinds of ants: the fallow ant; the sanguine ant; the legionary ant; the white ant, &c. There are some traits common to all: They live in communities; build cities, or ant-hills; and are divided into general classes, with their appropriate grades and employments, somewhat similar to bees; there are males, females, and neuters, or workers.They also resemble the bees in their respect for their matrons or queens; though they differ in this respect; they admit of the presence of an indefinite number of queens, which produces no ill consequences whatever. They all are equally caressed, and attended.There is a very marked difference between the ant and bee. The queens, or matrons of the bees remain in their respective hives, and their presence is necessary to the industry and contentment of the communities. But the matrons or queens of the ants act differently. The male and female ants have wings; the neuters or workers have not. These generally swarm together between July and September. They rise from the ant-hill together, in immense numbers; sometimes the ants of a whole district collect together and rise in the air, and seem only to be sporting; but at this time the females become fecundated. The quantity of ants with wings is so great sometimes, as, says Dr. Bromley, to form a column on the water five or six miles long, eight or ten feet broad, and six inches deep, when they happened to fall into the river.In this general destruction of the winged ants, some females escape, which quickly divest themselves of their wings, form an ant-hill, and found a new colony by depositing their eggs in it.It is also well ascertained that the working ants do not permit all the females or queens to escape, but detain some as prisoners, by cropping their wings. They pay every attention to these royal prisoners guarding them diligently, and feeding them liberally. When these females drop their eggs, the workers take them up carefully, and deposit them in their proper places.These are some of the principal traits common to the ant tribe. A few brief remarks may be made on the principal species.The fallow ant.—The wars of this insect is the principal thing which can be noticed here. We have a minute detail, of one long and disastrous battle, by Huber. This battle took place between the inhabitants of two neighboring ant-hills: they met half way: the battle was commenced by single combatants; then they fought in pairs on elevated ground; and finally the battle became general. The attack is generally made by seizing each other by the mandibles, and rearing up on their hind feet so as to bring their abdomens forward, from which they eject a pungent poison upon their adversaries, in order to destroy them. This circumstance gives rise to a pungent smell on the spot. During the combat they are frequently grappled so closely together as to fall on their sides; and others coming to their assistance the group is locked fast in the struggle.During the action some are found leading away prisoners; others going as couriers to bring fresh troops to the fight, and some in the immediate vicinity of the hills keeping guard, and transacting the common business of the community.The battle occupied a space of about three feet square, and lasted until the approach of night: then each party retired; but was on the spot next morning at dawn of day, and re-commenced the battle with greater fury, and carnage. It finally terminated without subverting either republic.It was very remarkable, says Huber, that these ants, in promiscuouscombat, should know their own party. In a few cases, for a moment, friends assailed, but rectified the error, instantly, by caressing.The legionary ant.Though the natural history of this insect, throughout, is very interesting, there is place for but one principal fact: i.e. their practice of making theformica fusca, or negro ant, a slave. This curious fact was first discovered by Huber, and has since been confirmed by Latreille, and is now admitted readily by naturalists.A campaign, for the purpose of procuring slaves, was observed closely by Huber on the 17th of June, 1804. The column was first seen crossing the road, being about ten inches long and four broad. He followed them until they approached the nest of the negro ant. The centinels on duty gave the alarm, and the ants rushed out, and made a spirited resistance to the invaders, but were finally driven into their house. The legionary ants then rushed forward, attacked the hill, and took the little city by assault. They remained in it but a few minutes, and returned, each one carrying in his mouth a larva, or young negro ant, and scampered home in confusion.They never take the old ants captive, but the young, in a state of infancy, and thus raise them in a state of slavery. The consequence is that they are submissive and affectionate, and perform with cheerfulness and fidelity all the domestic duties of a legionary city. They provide house and food for their masters, attend them, and serve them in every possible way.The sanguine antis also a slave dealer, and in the same manner as the legionary. Nor is the negro ant the only victim: themining antis also reduced to a state of slavery by the legionary, and sanguine ants.There remains to be stated another circumstance connected with the natural history of ants, which would scarcely be credited, were it not tested by such names as Linnæus, Huber, and Latreille: that is,they keep milch-cows. There are certain insects, from which they extract a sweet saccharine fluid for food, as we do milk from cows. The principal insects which are thus used, are the plant-louse, and the gall-insect. Linnæus, and after him other naturalists, call these insects themilch-cows of the ants.The fluid issues from the body of the insect through little tubes placed above the abdomen on either side. When no ants are present the plant-lice emit this liquor from their bodies by a jerking motion: when they are in attendance they suck the juice with great avidity. But what is still more astonishing, the ants compel their milch-cattle to yield their milk, by gently patting them on each side with their antennæ, or feelers. This is properly milking them.In addition to this the ants take care to appropriate these milch-cattle to themselves, by collecting them in herds, guarding and feeding them. They sometimes make an enclosure around them, or around the tree or plant on which they find them, and thus secure them. Some herds are owned in common by the ant-hill; and others appear to belong to individuals.Theyellow antis known to remove these plant-lice from the plants, and domesticate them in their hillocks for service in winter.In conclusion, in regard to ants we may mention their ravages committed on property. In the East and West Indies they are very destructive. They undermine houses in such a manner as to cause them to fall. Some species will devour the wood of a building of small size, in a single night. And it is remarkable that they make their ravagesinternally. One would not observe that they had assailed a beam of timber, unless he should take means to examine its interior. They will devour even the exterior of the timber when they have first coated it over with mud or clay in order to conceal their work. They devour furniture of all kinds, and completely consume the trees which fall in some countries. The extent of the damage which they can do, is incalculable.These remarks will show what interest the natural history of insects can inspire. It is not permitted to extend the subject further in a note.]
[Our author has devoted very few remarks indeed toinsects; yet the history of this class of creatures is as interesting as any other, and is attracting considerable attention. Their history is very far from being complete: theirnumberis not known. They inhabit the air, water, and earth. This family of creatures is calledinsects, because of thearticulationsof the body, so as to appear notched, or intersected. A brief notice of some of their principal parts follows, which is chiefly taken from No. VIII, of the Family Library, published by J. & J. Harper, New-York.
Mouth.—All insects eitherdividetheir food, orsuckit. In those which divide their food, the parts of the mouth are, an upper lip, and an under lip fixed to a piece called the chin; between these two there are four lateral pieces, two on each side; the two upper are called mandibles, the two lower, jaws. The mandibles, or upper jaws cut the food: the lower jaws divide and masticate it.
The mouth of those insects which suck their food, is elongated into a tongue or proboscis. This is a tube attached to the head. In some it is composed of two pieces connected by a joint; for if it were constantly extended it would be too much exposed to accidental injuries: therefore, in its indolent state it is securely doubled up by means of this joint. In some species, as the butterfly, the proboscis, when not in use, is coiled up like a watch-spring. In some it is shut up in a sharp-pointed sheath, which is of firmer texture than the proboscis, and by which the insect pierces the food, and then opens it withinthe wound to allow the proboscis to perform its office by extracting the juice.
Antennæ.—These are very slender arms resembling hairs, which project from the heads of almost all insects. There are generally two to each insect, which diverge somewhat. The insects can move them in all directions, and when they are seen doing this it commonly suggests the idea that these antennæ arefeelers. However, their functions are not certainly known: some suppose them to be organs of sense.
Eyes.—These are generally found in the head of insects. Their real number is, usually, two: the surfaces of which are cut into many small faces; more than seventeen thousand have been counted in the butterfly. Each face on the insect’s eye is considered as a crystalline lens, concave within, and convex without. They have no eye-lids.
Thorax, or throat.—This is the second division of the body, and is placed directly behind the head. To the thorax are attached the wings and legs: commonly three legs on each side. Two membranes compose the wing, placed one above the other. Cords, or small nerves, are found in the upper one. The expansion of the wing is owing, as is supposed, to the introduction of a fluid, at the will of the insect, into hollow vessels which are detected in the composition of the wing.
Abdomen.—This is the third division of the insect, and is immediately connected with the thorax by articulation: it is composed of rings from one to fifteen. Most of these rings have an open pore placed laterally, through which air has access to the fluids in the body. In some insects the last ring contains the anus; in others, the organs of generation; or the means of defence, as a sting.
Muscles.—These are said to be disposed in bundles, the fibres of which are not connected by a cellular membrane: they are fixed to the hard parts, which are to be moved by horny tendons.
The thorax contains the muscles which move the head up or down, and those also which move the wings and the feet. In some the muscles amount to four thousand. The muscular power of some of these insects is astonishing, as may be known by the distance they can leap: as the flea, and others, which leap two hundred times their own length. If man could do this he would leap at a single effort, more than one thousand feet.
All insects are supposed to have a knotted nervous system. The knot nearest the head is composed of two lobes, from which nerves pass to the eyes, antennæ, and mouth.
These are the principal common parts of insects. It would be a delightful task to enter into a minute description of their genera, species, habits, modes of life, subsistence, defence, attack, &c. Only two or three can be noticed, which must be taken as a specimen of the whole.
TheBee.—This insect has attracted the attention of the observing in all ages. On a pleasant summer’s day the hive presents the appearance of a busy, and populous city—the gates appear to be crowded with many workmen—some going to search for food, andothers returning with it—some building—some tending the young—some cleansing the dwelling, and others carrying out the dead, and, apparently, performing some honorable sepulchral rites, &c.
The hive.—The interior of a bee-hive is itself a world of wonders. It is not, as is commonly supposed, the same in the form of its construction in all hives, it varies according to circumstances. Yet there are some general principles which seem to be common to all honeycombs: they do not touch each other, but always are sufficiently far apart to allow room to work on the opposite faces of each comb. The combs are placed vertically in the hive, and each complete comb is composed of two layers of six-sided cells, united by a common base. These two layers of six-sided cells are not united by a common base with aflatbottom to each cell: but the hexagonal tube terminates at the bottom in athree-sided pyramidal cavity. The angle, formed at the apex of this pyramidal cavity, is 70° 32ʹ—and the angle formed at the base of the hexagonal tube, or cell, is 109° 28ʹ. By this construction Reaumur has demonstrated, that the bee has formed his comb on the only plan which could produce cells of a determinate size, equal and similar, in the strongest manner, occupying the least space, and requiring the least quantity of matter.
The wax, out of which the cells are formed, is not the same simple substance as honey, extracted from the flowers: it seems to be elaborated by the bees in their bodies, and deposited under their bellies in the form of scales. It is produced from a nectar obtained from flowers, which is swallowed by the bee in the greatest possible quantity, after which the bee hangs motionless in the hive for twenty-four hours, during which time the wax is elaborated and deposited under the belly in thin scales resembling talc.
Some of the cells are filled with honey, and some are found to contain the young bee in the condition of larva.
The bees which inhabit a hive may be regarded as a community, which is found to be divided into three classes: the queen—the males—and the workers, which are of no sex.
The Queen.—She is the common mother of the hive, and deposits all the eggs from which the young ones come: she appears to be in size between the males and workers, but longer than either.
The attention or reverence, with which the queen-bee is regarded, is very remarkable. Upon withdrawing the queen from a hive the workers are thrown into the greatest consternation; they desist from work, run wildly through the hive, and refuse all nourishment. This they do for twenty-four hours, after which time a new queen will be received kindly, if offered them; but previously, they pay no attention to a strange queen, though introduced among them.
If no queen can be found, Schirach discovered, and Huber has confirmed it,that the bees have power to create a queen, in the following manner. They build someroyalcells (for there are different kinds) into which they put the common worker-worm, i.e. the grub which produces the work-bee, and feed the insect with royal food, which is more pungent than the common bee-food; and in a few days they have a queen-bee produced, instead of a work-bee; then all is well.
The queen is always attended with a train, which wait upon her, do her homage, caress and feed her, by presenting her with honey. If they lose their own queen, and a stranger queen is introduced, after twenty-four hours, they commence their reverence for the new sovereign by surrounding her, caressing her, feeding her, and opening a way for her when she moves.
Their devotions to their queen do not cease if she become sterile, or die. Their veneration and tender attentions appear to increase towards the dead body of their queen. It is a well known fact, that the community perishes if they cannot procure a queen by any means.
The combats of the queens.—The bees seem to be purely monarchial in their constitution of government. This will appear from the following extraordinary facts:
If a strange queen be introduced into the hive where there is a queen, the working-bees immediately seize upon her, and detain her a prisoner: as soon as this is done, another party hastens away to the reigning queen and surround her. They then force the queens towards each other, in order to make them decide the sovereignty of the hive in mortal combat. The conquerer is cheerfully taken for the reigning sovereign.
Nor is it difficult to bring the rival queens to an engagement: so soon as they recognize each other they rush furiously to the combat, and the one or the other quickly inflicts a mortal wound by piercing the belly of the antagonist between the rings, by means of the sting.
So exclusive is the passion of the queen for sovereignty, that she puts to death the young queens, so soon as she ascertains them to be such. This she does even in the cells, before they have come forth.
The male bees.—These seem not to have attracted much interest. They are not very numerous in the hive; generally not exceeding an hundred or two. They are the largest in size, and live perfectly idle.
The working bees.—These, as their name imports, perform the labors of the hive. The details of their labors cannot be admitted here.
There is one question, in regard to bees, which is difficult and curious: their senses. From the best observations, and experiments, it would seem as if the antennæ, or feelers, were the principal organs of sense. Upon taking away the queen, in about an hour some one bee discovers it, and becomes instantly agitated, and runs furiously about the hive: the first companion he meets they cross their feelers mutually, the discoverer giving his neighbor a gentle tap with the feeler, and he in turn commences running furiously about the hive, communicating the intelligence in a similar manner; until the whole hive is in an uproar.
Huber introduced a queen to a hive, after twenty-four hours absence of their own queen. The working bees which were nearest immediately approached and touched her with their feelers, and passing their trunks over every part of her body, gave her honey. Then these gave place to others which treated her in a similar manner; and all, with a vibration of their wings, arranged themselves around their new sovereign.
From some experiments of Huber, it seems that the antennæ, or feelers of bees are the organs of communication. He thinks they have no organ for hearing. Their power of vision is very clear and strong. Anciently, in New-England, the honey-hunters are said to have found the nest of wild bees in the following manner: they placed a plate of honey in the woods, and when the bees came to get it, they caught two or three of them, the bee-hunter would let one go, and observe his course, by a pocket compass, as he flew to the nest: he would then walk off at a right angle a few hundred yards, and let another bee go, and observe the course: the angle, or point at which these two lines, described by the flights of the bees, met, the hunter knew to be the place where the bee-nest was.
The manner in which bees take their rest is a matter of curiosity. Some attach themselves to a part of the hive, by their fore-feet, and extend their hind-feet down: the next bee by his fore-feet takes hold of the hind-feet of the first bee, and thus suspends himself; others attach themselves in like manner, until they form clusters, or festoons. In this condition they take their rest.
It will be interesting to learn something of thestingof the bee. It is situated in the lower end of the ringed-body: it is composed of three parts: the sheath, and two darts which are enclosed in it, very small and penetrating. The darts are barbed. When the bee strikes with its sting, the sharp and hard point of the hollow sheath strikes and penetrates first, and the two darts are immediately thrust into the incision made by the sheath; and at the same time the bee injects a poisonous liquor into the wound, which causes the pain and inflammation. In some instances the sting is struck in so deeply the bee cannot extricate it: in that case the wound is more painful, but the loss proves fatal to the bee.
Destructive combats frequently take place between different hives; and many perish on both sides. Occasionally single combats, or duels, take place, which always prove fatal to one or the other. Instances are known, in which the bees of one hive plunder the bees of another. In this case a battle generally ensues. And what is more astonishing still, sometimes the hive-bees will, five or six of them, surround anhumble-bee, and rob him of his honey, as he is returning home of an evening. Indeed a whole volume might be written, and the natural history of the bee not be exhausted.
Ants.—This insect has justly rivalled the bee in the admiration of the philosopher, and, on some accounts, is considered a more interesting creature. The instinct of this creature does not appear so strikingly as that of the bee: but it exhibits other and higher qualities, approaching to the cardinal virtues of man: such as love, courage, patience, perseverance, &c. The proof of all these will be found in the few brief remarks which follow.
There are various kinds of ants: the fallow ant; the sanguine ant; the legionary ant; the white ant, &c. There are some traits common to all: They live in communities; build cities, or ant-hills; and are divided into general classes, with their appropriate grades and employments, somewhat similar to bees; there are males, females, and neuters, or workers.
They also resemble the bees in their respect for their matrons or queens; though they differ in this respect; they admit of the presence of an indefinite number of queens, which produces no ill consequences whatever. They all are equally caressed, and attended.
There is a very marked difference between the ant and bee. The queens, or matrons of the bees remain in their respective hives, and their presence is necessary to the industry and contentment of the communities. But the matrons or queens of the ants act differently. The male and female ants have wings; the neuters or workers have not. These generally swarm together between July and September. They rise from the ant-hill together, in immense numbers; sometimes the ants of a whole district collect together and rise in the air, and seem only to be sporting; but at this time the females become fecundated. The quantity of ants with wings is so great sometimes, as, says Dr. Bromley, to form a column on the water five or six miles long, eight or ten feet broad, and six inches deep, when they happened to fall into the river.
In this general destruction of the winged ants, some females escape, which quickly divest themselves of their wings, form an ant-hill, and found a new colony by depositing their eggs in it.
It is also well ascertained that the working ants do not permit all the females or queens to escape, but detain some as prisoners, by cropping their wings. They pay every attention to these royal prisoners guarding them diligently, and feeding them liberally. When these females drop their eggs, the workers take them up carefully, and deposit them in their proper places.
These are some of the principal traits common to the ant tribe. A few brief remarks may be made on the principal species.
The fallow ant.—The wars of this insect is the principal thing which can be noticed here. We have a minute detail, of one long and disastrous battle, by Huber. This battle took place between the inhabitants of two neighboring ant-hills: they met half way: the battle was commenced by single combatants; then they fought in pairs on elevated ground; and finally the battle became general. The attack is generally made by seizing each other by the mandibles, and rearing up on their hind feet so as to bring their abdomens forward, from which they eject a pungent poison upon their adversaries, in order to destroy them. This circumstance gives rise to a pungent smell on the spot. During the combat they are frequently grappled so closely together as to fall on their sides; and others coming to their assistance the group is locked fast in the struggle.
During the action some are found leading away prisoners; others going as couriers to bring fresh troops to the fight, and some in the immediate vicinity of the hills keeping guard, and transacting the common business of the community.
The battle occupied a space of about three feet square, and lasted until the approach of night: then each party retired; but was on the spot next morning at dawn of day, and re-commenced the battle with greater fury, and carnage. It finally terminated without subverting either republic.
It was very remarkable, says Huber, that these ants, in promiscuouscombat, should know their own party. In a few cases, for a moment, friends assailed, but rectified the error, instantly, by caressing.
The legionary ant.Though the natural history of this insect, throughout, is very interesting, there is place for but one principal fact: i.e. their practice of making theformica fusca, or negro ant, a slave. This curious fact was first discovered by Huber, and has since been confirmed by Latreille, and is now admitted readily by naturalists.
A campaign, for the purpose of procuring slaves, was observed closely by Huber on the 17th of June, 1804. The column was first seen crossing the road, being about ten inches long and four broad. He followed them until they approached the nest of the negro ant. The centinels on duty gave the alarm, and the ants rushed out, and made a spirited resistance to the invaders, but were finally driven into their house. The legionary ants then rushed forward, attacked the hill, and took the little city by assault. They remained in it but a few minutes, and returned, each one carrying in his mouth a larva, or young negro ant, and scampered home in confusion.
They never take the old ants captive, but the young, in a state of infancy, and thus raise them in a state of slavery. The consequence is that they are submissive and affectionate, and perform with cheerfulness and fidelity all the domestic duties of a legionary city. They provide house and food for their masters, attend them, and serve them in every possible way.
The sanguine antis also a slave dealer, and in the same manner as the legionary. Nor is the negro ant the only victim: themining antis also reduced to a state of slavery by the legionary, and sanguine ants.
There remains to be stated another circumstance connected with the natural history of ants, which would scarcely be credited, were it not tested by such names as Linnæus, Huber, and Latreille: that is,they keep milch-cows. There are certain insects, from which they extract a sweet saccharine fluid for food, as we do milk from cows. The principal insects which are thus used, are the plant-louse, and the gall-insect. Linnæus, and after him other naturalists, call these insects themilch-cows of the ants.
The fluid issues from the body of the insect through little tubes placed above the abdomen on either side. When no ants are present the plant-lice emit this liquor from their bodies by a jerking motion: when they are in attendance they suck the juice with great avidity. But what is still more astonishing, the ants compel their milch-cattle to yield their milk, by gently patting them on each side with their antennæ, or feelers. This is properly milking them.
In addition to this the ants take care to appropriate these milch-cattle to themselves, by collecting them in herds, guarding and feeding them. They sometimes make an enclosure around them, or around the tree or plant on which they find them, and thus secure them. Some herds are owned in common by the ant-hill; and others appear to belong to individuals.
Theyellow antis known to remove these plant-lice from the plants, and domesticate them in their hillocks for service in winter.
In conclusion, in regard to ants we may mention their ravages committed on property. In the East and West Indies they are very destructive. They undermine houses in such a manner as to cause them to fall. Some species will devour the wood of a building of small size, in a single night. And it is remarkable that they make their ravagesinternally. One would not observe that they had assailed a beam of timber, unless he should take means to examine its interior. They will devour even the exterior of the timber when they have first coated it over with mud or clay in order to conceal their work. They devour furniture of all kinds, and completely consume the trees which fall in some countries. The extent of the damage which they can do, is incalculable.
These remarks will show what interest the natural history of insects can inspire. It is not permitted to extend the subject further in a note.]
The distinction betweencleananduncleanFowls, made in the Scriptures, serves to point out the difference between the two classes ofsaintsandsinnersamong the human race. Those Fowls were accounted clean, which are gentle in their nature, as the Dove, and musical in their notes, as the Lark; which qualifications are not to be found among birds of prey, as the Ostrich, Eagle, Vulture, Hawk, Cormorant, Raven, Owl, Bat, &c. All these, so far as their instincts and properties are discovered to us, agree so well with the different characters of men, to whom in Scripture they have a symbolical allusion, that none but the infinitely wise Creator could have distinguished and applied their several peculiarities with so much simplicity, brevity, and propriety.
Several of the unclean Fowls feed on filth and dead carcases; whose “young ones” also “suck up blood, and where the slain are, there are they.” Dr. Buchanan, when at the distance of fifty miles from Juggernaut, says, “We know that we are approaching Juggernaut, by the human bones which we have seen for several days strewed by the way. The Vultures seem to live here on human prey: they exhibit a shockingtameness. The obscene animals will not leave the body sometimes till we come close to them. Yesterday a woman devoted herself to the idol: this morning, as I passed the place of skulls, nothing remained of her but her bones.” The unrenewed nature of man is no more offended with evil, than a vulture is with human flesh, or a crow is with carrion, on which it feeds with delight.
The unclean Fowls persecute and devour those of a more gentle nature. The Eagle,נשרnesher, is fromnashertolacerate,cut, ortear to pieces; hence theEagle, a most rapacious bird of prey, has its name from tearing the flesh of animals it feeds on: and for this purpose, birds of prey have, in general, strong crooked talons and a hooked beak. The Eagle is a cruel bird, exceedingly ravenous, and almost insatiable. This propensity in birds of preyto seize, tear, and devour, is expressive of the violent and malevolent dispositions of some persons, who hate and endeavor to injure those who live in the fear of God, and keep his commandments. Such were the heathens, whom St. Paul has described as “cruel” and “unmerciful, full of envy, murder, and debate,” given up to the vilest passions, and all the uncleanness of “dead works.”
The want ofnatural affection, and aright understandingof Divine things, among ungodly persons, is strikingly exhibited in the character of the Ostrich. This foolish bird, though it has wings, is not able to raise itself from the earth, and is void of that instinctive tenderness, which other creatures feel for their offspring: “which leaveth her eggs in the earth, and warmeth them in the dust, and forgetteth that the foot may crash them, or that the wild beast, may break them. She is hardened against her young ones, as though they were not hers; her labor is in vain without fear; because God hath deprived her of wisdom, neither hath he imparted to her understanding.” The Ostrich lays from thirty to fifty eggs, not placed, like those of some other birds, upon trees, or in the clefts of rocks, but in the sand, forgetting the danger to which they are exposed from the feet of travellers or wild beasts. On the most trivial occasion, she forsakes her eggs, or her young ones, to which, perhaps, she never returns; or, if she does, it may be too late, either to restore life to the one, or preserve the lives of the other. The prophet, applying this want of affection, says, “The daughter of my people is cruel, like the Ostriches in the wilderness.” She is likewise inconsiderate and foolish in her private capacity, says Dr. Shaw, particularly in her choice of food, which is frequently highly detrimental and pernicious to her; for she swallows every thing greedily and indiscriminately, whether it be pieces of rags, leather, wood, stone, or even iron. To secure herself, she will thrust her head into the shrubs, though her body, which, when standing upright, is from six to eight feet in height, from the top of the head to the ground, be exposed. She has a little head, and scarcely any brain: hence historians tell us, that the emperor Heliogabalus, to gratify his luxurious taste, together with other delicacies, such as the combs of Cocks, the tongues of Pheasants and Nightingales, the eggs of Partridges, the heads of Parrots and Peacocks, the brains of Thrushes, had likewise served up to him, at one entertainment, the heads of six hundred Ostriches for the sake of the brains; because, being so very small, a less number would not have been sufficient to make a dish. What an affecting emblematical representation is this singular bird of the moral qualifications and habits of ignorant and wicked men! not to mention the superstitious practice of offering children to Moloch and other diabolical deities; the custom of exposing new-born infants in the woods to perish with hunger, or be devoured by wild beasts; a practice still tolerated among the idolaters of China.
The heathen, who “did not like to retain God in their knowledge, but became vain in their imaginations, and their foolish heart was darkened,” were in this respect, symbolically represented by the tribe of Owls and Bats, and other birds of night, all of which the law pronounced to be unclean. In the Owl we have a striking image of the sceptic, who loves darkness rather than light, and is more proud of his artificial ignorance than any man ought to be of the most useful knowledge: who could never find Divine truth, because he never loved it; as the Owl is offended with that glory which the sun diffuses over the natural creation. As the day has no charms for the Owl, so revealed religion has nothing wise or wonderful in its nature and design with the unbelieving philosopher; who brings with him to the word of God all that prejudice with which the Owl flies out of its retreat into the sun-shine. Yet he has his admirers; as the hooting of the Owl is music in the ears of another of the same species. This emblematical bird, when exposed to the light of the sun against his will, lets down a conspicuous membrane over his eyes, to guard them from the inconvenient splendor of the orb of day; as the infidel draws a dark veil of evil reasonings and blasphemous objections over his heart, to intercept and weaken the effulgent rays of heavenly truth. The Owl has a natural aversion from the light; and if he breaks through his ordinary rule, and settled habit, so as to appear in the day-time, he is pursued and reprimanded by other birds, as one that is a disgrace to their kind. But the birds which thus express their indignation against the Owl, never kill him, being unarmed and inoffensive in their nature.156So an infidel should not be put to death for his detestable and demoralizing principles; but all Christians should agree in giving public notice of him, and showing the world what he is. For internal realities do not always comport with external appearances. The outward appearance of the Owl seems to promise a great degree of gravity and wisdom, while its principles and manners are opposite to the common sense of other birds, and its office in the creation reduces it to the rank of a common mouse-trap. So the philosophers it represented made a pompous display of reason and learning, all of which, so far as they applied these to divinity, were no better than ignorance and folly. “Professing themselves to be wise, they became fools;” and by an unaccountable fatality chose this very bird as the emblem of their wisdom; which was accordingly held in great veneration at Athens, the principal seat of heathen learning, as the symbol of Minerva, the tutelar goddess of that city.
The Bat is a sort of monster, partaking of the nature of both a bird and a beast, having feet or claws growing out of its pinions,and contradicts the general order of nature by creeping with the instruments of its flight. What a contrast between this creature and the Lark!