CHAP. V. THE IMPORTANCE OF NATURAL HISTORY; OF INSECTS IN GENERAL, AND OF THEIR CONSTITUENT PARTS.

There is no human science which to a rational mind exhibits a greater variety of attractions, or which is more deserving of general esteem, than that of NATURAL HISTORY; accordingly we find, that from the earliest times in which the sciences have been promulgated, it has never been entirely destitute of its votaries; but, on the contrary, has for ages employed the lives of many learned men, as being, in fact, the study of DIVINE WISDOM displayed in the creation: the farther our researches are carried, the more striking proofs of it every where abound. In the present century, an æra particularly devoted to investigation, and propitious to discovery and improvement in various branches of science, Natural History, so far from being neglected, has been more generally cultivated, and pursued with an ardor unprecedented at any former period. Men of the first rank in literature have become indefatigable labourers in the vast and unbounded field which it presents to the eyes of an accurate and attentive observer. The animal, the vegetable, and the mineral kingdoms, have been examined with the utmost care; that confusion and perplexity which seemed unavoidably to result from a view of the immense variety of articles contained in each of those departments, and which frequently deterred persons from engaging in the pursuit, have been in a great measure removed by the introduction of systematic arrangement; by these means, the various subjects are distributed into classes and genera, enabling us to form distinct and comprehensive ideas of them. To the same methodical plan, and the nicety of discrimination thence arising, we must attribute the discovery and description of many new species; this has excited an emulation still farther to pursue the inquiry, nor need any apprehension be entertained that the subject will be exhausted, as, no doubt, an infinite variety still remains unexplored to engage the utmost attention of the philosophic mind, and fully to compensate the pains bestowed on so interesting a branch of knowledge.

Of the abundance of articles enumerated in books of Natural History, there are comparatively few, whose uses are as yet known, or their properties fully understood. The true naturalist should always bear in mind that there is a vast difference between retaining the names, and investigating the nature and peculiar qualities of the creatures to which they belong. It is highly proper, indeed necessary, that the multifarious objects of Natural History should be well ascertained and distinguished with nicety in all their varieties; the science and admirers of it are, therefore, unquestionably indebted to the able naturalists who have devoted their time, and exercised their ingenuity in devising commodious methods of arrangement, and invented systems for identifying the several subjects with accuracy, and less danger of fallacy or mistake: but all who are, or would wish to be thought naturalists, ought to consider, that the best possible mode of classification is, after all, but an introduction to Natural History. The ingenious and indefatigable Linnæus, who spent his life in fabricating the curious system now generally adopted, intended it certainly for the improvement of the science, as a basis for the service of knowledge and the benefit of mankind; let us be cautious not to mistake the means for the end, but in the prosecution of the science, think of the true ends of knowledge, and endeavour to promote our own instruction, and the advancement of others, with a view to the adoration of that DIVINE BEING to whom all creation is indebted for existence, and their application to the occasions and uses of life, all along conducting and perfecting the study in the spirit of benevolence.

The study of nature, or in other words, a serious contemplation of the works of GOD, is indeed a great and proper object for the exercise of our rational faculties; nor can we perhaps employ them better, than in endeavouring to make ourselves acquainted with the works of that glorious Being from whom they were received.

Though there is a great deal of pleasure in contemplating the material world, or that system of bodies into which the DIVINE ARCHITECT has so admirably wrought the mass of dead matter, with the several relations which those bodies bear to one another; there is still something more wonderful and surprizing arising from the contemplation of the animated world; by which is to be understood all those animals with which every part of the universe is furnished. The material world is only the shell of the universe; the animated world are its inhabitants.

Existence is a blessing to those beings only which are endowed with perception, and appears useless when bestowed upon dead matter, any farther than as it is subservient to beings which are conscious of their existence. Thus we find, from the bodies which lie under our observation, that matter is only made as the basis and support of animals, and that there is no more of the one than what is necessary for the exigence of the other.

There are some living creatures which are raised but just above dead matter; there are many others, but one remove from these, which have no other senses but those of feeling and taste; others have still an additional sense of hearing; others of smell, and again others of sight. It is wonderful to observe, by what a gradual progress life advances through a prodigious variety of species, before a creature is formed that possesses all these senses; and even among these, there is such a different degree of perfection in the senses which one animal enjoys beyond what appears in another, that, though the sense in different animals be distinguished by the same common denomination, it seems almost of a different nature. If, after this, we look into the several inward qualities of sagacity, or what is generally called instinct, we find them rising after the same manner imperceptibly one above another, and receiving additional improvements, according to the species in which they are implanted. This progress in nature is so very gradual, that what appears to us the most perfect of an inferior species, comes very near to the most imperfect, as we are accustomed to call it, of that which is immediately above it.

The exuberant and overflowing goodness of the SUPREME BEING, whose mercy extends to all his works, is plainly seen, as before observed, from his having made so very little matter, at least what falls within our knowledge, that does not swarm with life; nor is his goodness less visible in the diversity than in the multitude of living creatures. Had he only made one species of animals, none else could have enjoyed the happiness of existence; he has, therefore, included in his creation, every degree of life, every capacity of being. The whole chasm of nature, from a plant to a man, is filled up with diverse kinds of creatures, rising one above another, by such a gentle and easy ascent, that the little transitions and deviations from one species to the other are almost insensible. This intermediate space is so prudently managed, that there is scarce a degree of perception which does not appear in some one part of the animated world. Is the goodness or the wisdom of the DIVINE BEING more manifest in this his proceeding?

In this system of creation there is no creature so wonderful in its nature, and which so much merits our particular attention, as man, who fills up the middle space between the animal and intellectual nature, the visible and invisible world; and is that link, in the chain of beings, which has been often termed the “nexus utriusque mundi.” So that he, who in one respect being associated with angels and arch-angels, may look upon a BEING of infinite perfection as his father, and the highest order of spirits as his brethren, may, in another respect, say to corruption, “Thou art my father, and to the worm, thou art my mother and my sister.”[46]

There are, however, many who form their judgments of the works of nature from external appearance only; hence they imagine, that the greatest and most magnificent are the only perfect parts of creation, and worthy of our regard. Hence they confine their attention to the more splendid and shining branches of philosophy, and are too apt to treat the other parts with coolness and indifference, not to say contempt.

But surely a true philosopher is one who diligently pursues the study of nature in all its branches; who can behold with admiration her noblest productions, yet view with pleasure the smallest of her works: in short, one who thinks every thing excellent that owes its formation to the GOD of nature; and we need only take a transient view of the smaller creatures with which the earth is peopled, to discover that they are perfect in their kind, and carry about them as strong marks of infinite wisdom, power, and beneficence as the greatest. It has been justly said, “that there is not a vegetable that grows, nor an insect that moves, but what is sufficient to confound the Atheist, and to afford the candid observer endless materials for devout adoration and praise.”

If we examine insects with attention, we shall soon be convinced of their divine origin, and survey with admiration the wonderful art and mechanism of their structure, wherein such a number of vessels, parts, and movements are collected in a single point; yet are they furnished with weapons to seize their prey, dexterity to escape their foes, every thing requisite to perform the business of their stations, and enjoy the pleasures of their conditions. What a profusion of the richest ornaments and the gayest colours are often bestowed on one little insect! and yet there are thousands of others that are as beautiful and wonderful in their kind; some are covered with shining coats of mail, others are adorned with plumes of feathers, all of them furnished with every thing that is proper to make them answer the purposes for which they were designed.

“After an attentive examination of the nature and fabric of both the least and largest animals, I cannot,” says the great and excellent Swammerdam, “but allow the less an equal, perhaps a superior degree of dignity; whoever duly considers the conduct and instinct of the one, with the manners and actions of the other, must acknowledge, that they are all under the direction and controul of a supreme and particular intelligence; which, as in the largest it extends beyond the limits of our comprehension, escapes our researches in the smallest. If, while we dissect with care the larger animals, we are filled with wonder at the elegant disposition of their limbs, the inimitable order of their muscles, and the regular direction of their veins, arteries, and nerves, to what an height is our astonishment raised, when we discover all the parts arranged in the least, and in the same regular manner! How is it possible but we must stand amazed when we reflect, that those little animals, whose bodies are smaller than the point of the dissecting knife, have muscles, veins, arteries, and every other part common to the larger animals? Creatures so very diminutive, that our hands are not delicate enough to manage, or our eyes sufficiently acute to see them.”

The subserviency of the several beings in the visible creation to one another; the order in which each of them appears in that appointed season, when only it can be conducive to the purposes of the rest; and the preservation of a sufficient number of every species, amidst the immense havoc that reigns throughout, are, among other things, proofs of the amazing and incomprehensible wisdom by which they were all formed. With what pleasure does the mind, accustomed to look up from effects to their causes, from created beings to the GREAT SOURCE OF BEING, view that unbounded beneficence, which leaves not the smallest space, capable of supporting existence of any kind, unplanted with them. There is hardly any portion of matter, or the least drop of fluid naturally found on the surface of the earth, that is not inhabited by multitudes of animals; the subterraneous regions are peopled with their minute inhabitants, and the abyss of the sea, where no human eye can penetrate, abounds with animated beings.

The air is usually considered as the great source of destruction to bodies, whether animal or vegetable; but we do not always understand by what means or in what manner it is performed. What we term destruction and decay of one substance, occasions the production and ripening a multitude of others; wherever the air is admitted, with it a thousand different things find their way; and what is usually attributed to the effects of that fluid, is in general occasioned by the multitudes of bodies with which it is fraught. Redi observed, that flesh preserved from the access of flies, would bread no maggots; and it is as constant an observation, that vegetable substances will keep a long time in whatever state they are, if the air be excluded; but as soon as it is admitted, they also produce or afford their several kinds either of animal, or minuter vegetable inhabitants. In the first of these cases, the parent flies make their way to the exposed flesh, and there deposit their eggs for the production of a new offspring; in the other, multitudes of the seeds of minute plants and ovula of animals are floating in the air, and accompany it wherever it enters; if they be thus deposited in a place proper for vegetation and accretion, they burst their inclosures, and attain their growth as regularly as the seeds of plants deposited in the earth, or the eggs of larger animals in the nest.

The same wisdom which placed the sun in the center of the system, and arranged the several planets around him in their order, has no less shewn itself in the provision made for the food and dwelling of every bird that roams in the air, and every beast that wanders in the desert; equally great in the smallest and in the most magnificent objects; in the star and in the insect; in the elephant and in the fly; in the beam that shines from heaven and in the grass that cloathes the ground. Nothing is overlooked, nothing is carelessly performed: every thing that exists is adapted with perfect symmetry to the end for which it was designed. This wisdom displayed by the Almighty in the creation, was not intended merely to gratify curiosity and to raise wonder; it ought to beget profound submission, and pious trust in every heart.

Histories of the providence and caution, the care and foresight of the most inconsiderable among animal beings, must surely ever be read with pleasure and attention, as conveying a most beautiful lesson to a reflecting mind; it is impossible for any one thus instructed to think that the Great Being, who has been so careful of those inferior creatures, can be regardless of him whom he has placed in a station infinitely more exalted. Throughout the whole system of things, we behold a manifest tendency to promote the benefit either of the rational or the animal creation. In some parts of nature, this tendency may be less obvious than in others. Objects, which to us seem useless or hurtful, may sometimes occur; and strange it were, if in so vast and complicated a system, difficulties of this kind should not occasionally present themselves to beings, whose views are so narrow and limited as ours. It is well known, that in proportion as the knowledge of nature has increased among men, these difficulties have diminished. Satisfactory accounts have been given of many perplexing appearances; useful and proper purposes have been found to be promoted by objects which were at first thought to be unprofitable or noxious.[47]

Malignant must be the mind of that person; with a distorted eye he must have contemplated creation, who can suspect that it is not the production of infinite benignity and goodness. How many clear marks of benevolent intention appear every where around us? What a profusion of beauty and ornament is poured forth on the face of nature? What a magnificent spectacle presented to the view of man? What a supply contrived for his wants? What a variety of objects set before him, to gratify his senses, to employ his understanding, to entertain his imagination, to cheer and gladden his heart? Indeed the very existence of the universe is a standing memorial of the goodness of the Creator; for nothing except goodness could originally prompt creation. No new accession of felicity or glory was to result to him from creatures whom he made: it was goodness communicating and pouring itself forth, goodness delighting to impart happiness in all its forms, which in the beginning created the heaven and the earth. Hence those innumerable orders of living creatures with which the earth is peopled, from the lowest class of sensitive being to the highest rank of reason and intelligence. Wherever there is life, there is some degree of happiness; there are enjoyments suited to the different powers of feeling; and earth, air, and water, are with magnificent liberality made to teem with life.[48]

Let us not then slight, or deem that unworthy our notice, in which immensity is so conspicuous; or that trivial, in which there is such a manifestation of infinite beneficence; but rather let those striking displays of creating goodness call forth, on our part, responsive love, gratitude, and veneration. To this Great Father of all existence and life, to Him who hath raised us up to behold the light of day, and to enjoy all the comforts which his world presents, let our hearts send forth a perpetual hymn of praise. Evening and morning let us celebrate Him who maketh the morning and the evening to rejoice over our heads; who “openeth his hand and satisfieth the desire of every living thing.” Let us rejoice that we are brought into a world, which is the production of infinite goodness; over which a supreme intelligence presides; and where nothing happens but by his divine permission for the wisest purposes. Convinced that he hateth not the works which he hath made, nor hath brought creatures into existence merely to suffer unnecessary pain, let us even in the midst of sorrow, receive with calm submission whatever he is pleased to send; thankful for what he bestows; and satisfied that, without good reason, he takes nothing away.

Such, in general, are the effects which meditation on the works of the creation ought to produce. It presents such an astonishing conjunction of power, wisdom, and goodness, as we cannot behold without religious veneration.

In short, the world around us is the mighty volume wherein god hath declared himself; a picture wherein his perfections are displayed. The book of nature is written in a character that every one may read; it consists not of words, but things; it is a school where GOD is the teacher. All the objects of sense are as the letters of an universal language, in which all people and nations have a common interest; the Creator himself has made this use of it, revealing his will by it, and referring man to it for instruction. Hence the universal agreement between nature and revelation; hence, also, he that can understand GOD as the Fountain of truth and the Saviour of men in the holy scriptures, will be better enabled to understand and adore him as the fountain of power and goodness in the natural creation. Thus will philosophy and divinity go hand in hand, and shew that the world was made, as the scriptures were written, for our instruction; and that the creation of GOD is a school for Christians, if they use it aright.[49]

A GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF INSECTS.

The subjects of that part of the creation we are now going to survey, merit our attention as exceeding the rest of animated nature in their numbers, the singularity of their appearance, and the variety of their forms. Earth, air, and water are filled with hosts of them. Being for the major part very small, and myriads so diminutive, as even to be imperceptible to the unassisted eye, our knowledge of them, and their component parts would be extremely circumscribed and imperfect, were it not for the advantages derived from the use of the microscope; but happily possessed of this valuable instrument, an inexhaustible source of entertainment and instruction is afforded to the curious inquirer into the wonders of nature. The beauties of the minuter parts of creation are not more hidden from our unassisted sight, than the ends and purposes of their œconomy from slight and superficial observation; the microscope does not more amaze and charm as with a discovery of the first, than the application of our faculties in investigating the latter.

The name of INSECT has been appropriated to these small animals on account of the sections or divisions that are observable in the bodies of the greatest part of them; though, perhaps, it is impossible to find any precise term that shall embrace the whole genera, as many particulars must be described before we can attain an exact notion of these animals and their structure.

An insect is now generally defined to be, an animated being whose head is furnished with antennæ; that is destitute of bones, but which, instead thereof, is covered with a very hard skin; that has six or more feet; and that breathes through spiracula, or pores placed in the side of the body.

To be more particular, quadrupeds, birds, and fishes have an internal skeleton of bones, to which the muscles are affixed; but the whole interior body of insects is composed of soft flesh, and the muscles are attached to an external skeleton, serving the double purpose of skin and bone.

Insects are by most writers considered as divided into four principal parts: the caput, or head; the thorax, or trunk; the abdomen, or belly; and artus, or limbs. A perfect knowledge of these parts, and their several subdivisions, is requisite for those who are desirous of forming accurate ideas of these minute animals, or who wish to arrange them in their proper classes.

The head is affixed to the thorax by a species of articulation or joint; it is the principal seat of the senses, and contains the rudiments of the brain;[50] it is furnished with a mouth, eyes, antennæ, a forehead, a throat, and stemmata. In the greater part of insects the head is distinctly divided from the thorax, but in others it coalesces with it. The head of some insects is very large compared with the size of their bodies; the proportion between the head of the same insect is not always similar; in the caterpillars with horny heads it is generally small, before they moult or change their skin, but much larger after each moulting. The hardness of the exterior part of the head prevents its growth before the change; it is, consequently, in proportion to the body very small; but when the insect is disposing itself for the change, the internal substance of the head retires inwards to the first ring of the neck, where it has room to expand itself; so that when the animal quits the skin, we are surprized with a head twice the former size; and, as the insect neither eats nor grows while the head is forming, there is this further circumstance to be remarked, that the body and the head have each their particular time of growth: while the head expands and grows, the body does not grow at all; when the body increases, the head remains of the same size, without any change. The heads of all kinds of insects, and their several parts, form very pleasing, as well as most diversified objects for the opake microscope.

Os, the mouth, is a part of the insect to which the naturalist will find it necessary to pay a very particular attention; Fabricius goes so far as to assert that, without a thorough knowledge of the mouth, its form, and various appendages, it will be impossible ever to discriminate with accuracy one insect from another. In the structure of the mouth considerable art and wisdom is displayed; the diversity of the figure is almost as great as the variety of species. It is usually placed in the forepart of the head, extending somewhat downwards; in the chermes, coccus, and some other insects, it is placed under the breast. In some insects, the mouth is forcipated, to catch, hold, and tear the prey; in others, aculeated, to pierce and wound animals, and suck their blood; in others, strongly ridged with jaws and teeth, to gnaw and scrape out their food, carry burdens, perforate the earth, nay the hardest wood, and even stones themselves, for habitations and nests for their young. Others are furnished with a kind of tube or tongue, at one time moveable, at another fixed; with this they suck the juices of the flowers: in some again the tongue is so short, as to appear to us incapable of answering the purpose for which it was formed, and the oestri appear to have no mouth.

Maxillæ, the jaws, are generally two in number; in some, four; in others, more. They are sometimes placed in an horizontal, sometimes in a transverse direction; the inner edge is serrated, or furnished with small teeth, as in the cicada, nepa, notonecta, cimex, (bug,) aphis, and remarkably so in some curculeones.

The rostrum, or proboscis, is in general a very curious and complicated organ; it is the mouth drawn out to a rigid point. In many insects of the hemiptera class, it is bent down towards the breast and belly. It has by some writers been considered as serving at once the different purposes of mouth, nose, and windpipe, enabling the insect to extract the juices of plants, communicate the sensation of smelling, and convey air to the body.

Lingua, the tongue, is a taper and compact instrument, by which the insect obtains the juices of plants. Some can contract or expand it, others roll it up with dexterity; in some it is inclosed within a sheath. It is taper and spiral in the butterfly, tubular and fleshy in the fly; in all affording agreeable amusement for the microscope. To exemplify which in one or two instances, while it relieves the reader from the tediousness of narration, will, it is hoped, animate him to farther researches on the subject.

OF THE PROBOSCIS OF THE BEE.

Every day’s experience shews that the more we penetrate into the hidden recesses and internal parts of natural bodies, the more we find them marked with perfection in form and design; of the truth of which observation the minute apparatus now to be described will, no doubt, ensure conviction. Swammerdam, when speaking thereof, breaks out into this pious and humble confession: “I cannot refrain,” says he, “from confessing to the glory of the Immense and Incomprehensible Architect, that I have but imperfectly described and represented this small organ; for, to represent it to the life in its full perfection, as truly most perfect it is, far exceeds the utmost efforts of human knowledge.”

From what has here been said, it will be easy to perceive, that the limits of these Essays will not permit our entering largely into a description of the minute parts of the proboscis of the bee; for an ample account of which recourse must be had to the works of Swammerdam and Reaumur. The last writer, like a skilful workman who takes to pieces a watch which he himself has made, exhibits to you the several parts of which it is composed, and explains their fitness, their adjustments, their uses, the play of the pivots, springs, and pillars; for all these parts, and many more, are to be found in the proboscis of a bee.

It is by this small instrument that the bee procures the food necessary for its subsistence. In a general view, it may be considered as consisting of seven pieces; one of these, i i, b c, Fig. 3. Plate XIII. is placed in the middle; this is supposed to be pervious, and to constitute what may be properly called the tongue; the other six smaller parts or sheaths, disposed in three pairs, are placed on each side of the former: they not only assist in extracting and gathering the honey from the flowers, but they also protect and strengthen the part. The proboscis itself is very curiously divided; the divisions are elegant and regular, and are beset all round with shaggy triangular fibres or villi, distributed in beautiful order: these divisions, though very numerous, appear at first sight as a number of different articulations. The tongue, considered with respect to its length, may be said to have three articulations; one with the head, then a kind of cylindrical horny substance, which forms as it were a base for the true tongue, which is not horny, but soft, fleshy, and pliable.[51]

The two pieces a a of the exterior sheath are of a substance partly between bone and horn, and partly membranaceous; they are set round with fibres, and are furnished with air vessels, which are distributed through their whole texture; the upper ends f f of this sheath appear to be a little bent, but can be straitened by the bee when they are applied to the proboscis. At d d are two articulations, by means of which the pieces a a may be occasionally bent. The joints contribute towards bending the proboscis downwards, or rather underneath, against the head. These sheaths, together with two interior ones e e, assist in defending, covering, and protecting it from injuries; it is also probable that they promote the descent of the honey, by pressing the proboscis. The parts k k of this sheath have been called by some writers the root.

The two parts e e of the interior sheath are placed higher than those of the exterior one; they originate at g g on the proboscis itself, and near that part or articulation, by which the bee can upon occasion bend the proboscis; this sheath, therefore, always moves with the middle part i i, and is carried forward by it, the exterior sheath being left behind, because its attachments and origin are below that of the proboscis. The pieces e e are very similar in structure to those of a a, only that each of them has on the upper part three joints, the lower one is much longer than the other two; they are all of them surrounded with short fibres. The smaller articulated pieces never lie close to the proboscis, nor cover it, but are only placed near it, the two upper joints projecting outwards, as in this figure, even when the whole apparatus is shut up as much as possible. Swammerdam thinks these joints are of essential use to the bee, acting as it were in the manner of fingers, and assisting the proboscis, by opening the leaves of the flowers, and removing other obstructions from it; or like the two fore feet of the mole, by the help of which it pushes the earth from the sides both ways, that it may be able with its sharp trunk to search for its food more conveniently. There are two smaller pieces or sheaths, m m, near the bottom of the proboscis; these cannot be well seen without removing the sheath e e.

The proboscis is partly membranaceous, and partly of a gristly nature; the lower part is formed in such a manner, that it will swell out considerably, by which means the internal cavity may be prodigiously enlarged, and rendered capable of receiving a very large quantity of native and undigested honey, and larger than might be expected from its size. When the proboscis is shut up and inactive, it is very much flattened, and is three or four times broader than it is thick. The edges are always round; it grows tapering, though very gradually, towards the extremity. The lower and membranaceous part of the trunk has no fibres or villi on it, but is covered with little protuberant transparent pimples, that are placed in regular order, and at equal distances from each other, resembling the little risings observable on the skin of birds when the feathers have been plucked off. They are probably glandules, and may have a considerable share in changing or preparing the honey that is swallowed or taken up by the proboscis. Down the middle of the proboscis there is a tube of a much harder nature than the sides, it grows gradually smaller towards the top; at this place the tongue itself is extremely villous, having some very long villi at the point; whether they are open tubes, or whether they only serve as so many claws, to keep it in its proper place while in action, has not been determined; Mr. John Hunter conceives them to act somewhat like capillary tubes.

The proboscis terminates in a small cylinder c, at the top of which there is a little globule or nipple; the bee can contract this cylindrical part, and the little membrane in which the villi are fixed, into a much smaller compass, and draw it inwards. The exterior sheaths lap over each other on the upper part, so that the outside of the proboscis is protected by a very strong double case, a covering that was unnecessary for the under part; because when this instrument is in use the sheaths are opened, but when it is inactive, it is so folded that the under part is protected by the body of the bee. Withinside the exterior sheath, and near the bottom q, are two levers, which are fixed to the end of the proboscis, and by which it is raised and lowered.

Swammerdam thinks that the honey is, as it were, pumped or sucked up by the bee through the hole at the end b of the tongue; he does not seem to have discovered the apertures which are on the cylindrical part, near the end b. But Reaumur is of opinion that it is used to lap up the fluid, which is then conveyed down between the sheath to the mouth of the bee. To ascertain this, he placed a bee in a glass tube, the inside of which was rubbed over with honey, and little pieces thereof placed in different parts; the bee placed the tongue on the honey; stretching the end beyond the piece thereof, she bent it into the form of a bow, and inserted the most convex part of the bow into the honey; by rubbing the glass backwards and forwards with this part, she soon cleaned that portion to which it was applied, conveying the honey afterwards to the throat by the vermicular motion of the tongue.

If you attentively observe a bee, when it has placed itself on a full-blown flower, the activity and address with which it uses this apparatus will be very conspicuous. It lengthens the end, and applies it to the bottom of the petals or leaves of the flower, moving it continually in a vast variety of different directions; lengthening and shortening, bending and turning it in every possible way, to adapt it to the form, &c. of the leaves of the flower. These various movements are executed with a promptitude that surpasses all description.

The whole of this curious apparatus can be folded up into a very small compass under the head and neck. The larynx, or that part next to the head, falls back into the neck, which brings the extreme end of the first portion of the proboscis within the upper lip, or behind the two teeth; then the whole of the second part is bent down upon and under the first part, and the two last sheaths or scales are also bent down over the whole; so that the true tongue is inclosed laterally by the two second horny sheaths, and over the whole lie the two first.

OF THE PROBOSCIS OF THE BUTTERFLY.

From the tongue of the bee, let us now direct our attention to that of the butterfly. This is a spiral substance, somewhat resembling the spring of a watch when wound up, consisting of eight rounds; by means of a pin you may gently pull it out to its full length; it grows gradually tapering from the base, at the end it divides or separates into two tubes, each furnished with little organs of suction; probably, it is by these that it extracts the juices on which it feeds, and not by the extreme ends of the tongue. As the butterfly has no mouth, the proboscis is the only alimentary organ; when separated from the insect, it will often unroll itself, then wind and coil itself up again, continuing these motions at intervals for a considerable time.

OF THE PROBOSCIS OF THE CULEX OR GNAT.

The proboscis of the gnat consists of a great number of extremely delicate pieces, all concurring to one purpose; this is the instrument with which it strikes the flesh, and sucks the blood of animal bodies. The only part exhibited to the naked eye is the sheath, which contains all the other pieces. This sheath is a cylindrical tube, which is slit in such a manner, that the insect can separate it from the dart, and bend it more or less in proportion as the dart is plunged into the wound. From this tube the sting is darted, which consists of five or six blades or lancets of exquisite minuteness, lying one over the other; some of these are sharpened like a two-edged sword, while others are dentated and barbed at their extremities like the head of an arrow. The instant the gnat lances this bundle of darts into the flesh, and penetrates a vein, a drop or two of fluid is by it insinuated into the wound, by which the blood is attenuated, and the blades acting as so many capillary tubes, the blood ascends in them, and is conveyed into the body of the gnat. The injected fluid also by its fermentation causes that disagreeable and teazing sensation of itching, to which most persons are subjected, after having sustained an attack from one or more of these little animals.[52]

OF THE PROBOSCIS OF THE TABANUS OR OX-FLY.

Plate XVI. Fig. 1. is a microscopic view of the proboscis of a tabanus, with which it pierces the skins of horses and oxen, and nourishes itself with their blood; Fig. 2. the same of the natural size. The singular and compound structure, together with the wonderful form and exquisite beauty of this apparatus, discovers such a view of the wisdom, power, and greatness of its infinite composer, as must strike with admiration every contemplative observer, and lead him to reflect on the weakness, impotence, and nothingness of all human mechanism, when compared with the immense skill and inimitable finishing displayed in the subject before us. The whole of this formidable apparatus is composed of six parts, exclusive of the two guards or feelers a a, all of which are inclosed in a fleshy case, which in the figure is totally removed, as it contained nothing remarkably different from that of other insects with two wings. The guards or feelers a a, are of a spungy or fleshy substance, and are grey, covered with short hairs or villi; they are united to the head by a little joint of the same texture, which in this view of the object could not be shewn. These guards are a defence to the other parts of the apparatus, as they are laid upon it side by side, whenever the animal stings, and by that means preserve it from external injury. The two lancets b b and B, evidently open the wound, and are of a delicate and tender structure, formed like the dissecting knife of the anatomist, with a sharp point and slender edge, but gradually increasing to the back. The two instruments, c c and C, appear as if intended to enlarge the wound, by irritating the parts round it; to accomplish which, they are jagged or serrated; they may also serve, from their hard and horny texture, to defend the tube e E, which is of a softer nature and tubular to admit the blood, and convey it to the stomach; this delicate part is inclosed in a case d D, which entirely covers it. These parts are drawn separately at B, C, D, E. De Geer observes, that it is only the female that sucks the blood of animals; and Reaumur declares, that having made one disgorge itself, the blood it threw up, appeared to him to be more than the whole body of the insect could have contained.

Many other instances of the variety and curious fabrication of this little organ in different insects, may be found in the works of Reaumur and De Geer; enough has been said to shew that its mechanism not only eludes the human eye, but far surpasses every work of man; I shall therefore proceed, in the next place, to notice

THE ANTENNÆ OF INSECTS.

The antennæ are fine slender horns consisting of several articulations, moveable in various directions, and constituting one of the discriminating characteristics of insects. They are beautiful in form, and of a very delicate structure, so finely articulated, and so minutely jointed, as to be instantaneously moveable in every direction. They are situated on the fore part of the head.

The shape, the length, the number, and kind of articulations, not only vary in different species, but the antennæ of the male generally differ from those of the female. The greater number of insects have only two antennæ, but the oniscus, the pagurus, and astacus have four. Regular rows of minute holes are said to have been discovered in the antennæ. Several insects cover their eyes with them while they sleep.

We are far from being certain of the use of this organ; some writers have conjectured that they were the organs of smell and hearing, others have supposed them appropriated to a delicate species of feeling, sensible to the least motion or disturbance in the circumambient fluid in which they move.[53] The following observations throw some light on this obscure subject. When a wingless insect is placed at the end of a twig, or in any other situation where it meets with a vacuity, it moves the antennæ backward and forward, elevates and depresses them from side to side, and will not advance further lest it should fall. Place a stick or any other substance near the antennæ, and the insect immediately applies them to this new object, seems to examine whether it be sufficient to support its weight, and then proceeds on its journey. From these observations it would appear that the antennæ assist the insect in judging of the vicinity of objects, and probably enable them to walk with safety in the dark.

That these observations are not, however conclusive, appears from an experiment of a very ingenious naturalist: being desirous of ascertaining the nature and use of the antennæ and proboscis of a butterfly, he gently approached one that was flying about in search of food; he observed that it turned the antennæ about every way, till coming within scent of a flower, it kept them fixedly bent toward that object, directing its course by their guidance, till it arrived at the flower; there they appeared to act as an organ of smell, and that the minute holes with which it is furnished assisted in promoting this operation. When the creature had reached the flower, it hovered over it as with rapture, poising itself quietly upon its wing, like a kite or hawk in the air; it then dropped suddenly, till it was on a level with the flower, when it began to agitate its wings briskly and to unroll its spiral trunk, thrusting it to the bottom of the flower; in a little time the trunk was rolled up, and again in a moment unrolled; these operations it repeated till the flower yielded no more juices, the butterfly then sought for and alighted on another.[54]

The differences in the form, &c. of the antennæ are characterized by naturalists under the following names:

Setaceæ; are those that, like a bristle, grow gradually taper towards the point or extremity, as in many of the phalenæ. Filiformes; thread-shaped, and of an uniform thickness. Moniliformes; these are filiform like the preceding, and of a regular thickness, but consist of a series of round knobs, like a necklace of beads, as in the chrysomela. Clavatæ; formed like a club, increasing gradually from the base to the extremity, as in the papilio, butterfly. Capitatæ; these are also formed like a club, but the last articulation is larger than the rest, finishing with a kind of capital or head. Fissiles; these are like the former, only that the capitulum or head is divided longitudinally into three or four parts or laminæ, as in the scarabæi. Perfoliatæ; are also capitated, but have the capitulum divided horizontally, and the laminæ connected by a kind of thread passing through their center, as in the dermestes and dytiscus. Pectinatæ; so called from their similitude to a comb, though they more properly resemble a feather, as in the phalenæ and elateres; this is most obvious in the male. Aristatæ; such as have a lateral hair, which is either naked, or furnished with smaller hairs, as in the fly.

Besides the foregoing terms, the antennæ are called breviores, or short, when they are shorter than the body; mediocres, or middling, when they are of the same length; and longiores, when they are longer.

Near the mouth there is also a species of small filiform articulated antennæ, called the palpi, or feelers; they are generally four in number, sometimes six; they are placed under and at the sides of the mouth, which situation, together with their size, sufficiently distinguish them from the antennæ; they are in continual motion, the animal thrusting them in every matter, as a hog would its nose, when in search of food. Some have supposed them to be a kind of hand to assist in holding the food when it is near the mouth.

OF THE EYES OF INSECTS.

The structure of the eye has always been considered as a wonderful piece of mechanism; the admirable manner in which those of the human species are formed, and the nature of vision, are speculations which cannot but excite the attention of every inquisitive mind. The eyes of insects, though they differ considerably in their construction from those of other animals, are no less objects of our admiration. Indeed, among the exterior parts of insects, none are more worthy of minute investigation, and very few persons are to be found, who can be insensible to the beauties of this organ when exhibited under the microscope, as that instrument alone points out to us the prodigious art employed in their organization, and evidently shews how many wonders escape the unassisted sight.

The construction of the eye in insects is not only distinct from that of other animals, but also differs in different species. They vary in number, situation, connection, and figure. In other creatures the eyes are moveable, and two in number, one on each side of the head: in insects, the genus of cancri excepted, the eyes are fixed; they have no eye-brows, but the outer coating is hard and transparent.

The greater part of insects have two eyes; in the monoculus they approach so near to each other, as to appear like one; the gyrinus has four eyes, the scorpion six, the spider eight, and the scolopendra three.

Of the eyes of insects, some have them single, that is, placed at a small distance from each other; while others are furnished with an indefinite number, all placed in one common case or socket; the latter are generally termed the reticulated eyes.

OF THE RETICULATED EYES OF INSECTS.

The microscope does not disclose greater wonders, when it exhibits to us millions of animals invisible to the naked eye, where we should suppose nothing living existed, than when it discovers to us hidden beauties in those, which, though they are large enough to be seen by our natural eye, yet in their several minute parts are no ways discernible, but by the assistance of glasses.

Thus we readily discern those protuberances on the heads of insects, which are formed by a congeries of eyes; we can even perceive that they consist of a number of lines crossing each other with great regularity and exactness at some little distance, like the meshes of a net. By this we know that they are reticulated substances; but in what manner they are so, can only be shewn by the microscope.

The eyes of the libellula, on account of their size, are peculiarly well adapted for microscopical examination; and, by the assistance of the instrument, you will find that they are divided into a number of hexagonal cells, each of which forms a complete eye. The external parts of these eyes are so perfectly smooth, and so well polished, that, when viewed as opake objects, they will, like so many mirrors, reflect the images of all the surrounding objects. The figure of a candle may be seen on their surface multiplied almost to infinity, shifting its beam to each eye, according to the motion given to it by the hands of the observer. Other creatures are obliged to turn their eyes towards the object, but insects have eyes directed thereto, on whatsoever side it may appear: they more than realize the wonderful accounts of fabulous history: poets gave to Argus an hundred eyes; insects are furnished with thousands, having the benefit of vision on every side with the utmost ease and speed, though without any motion of the eye or flexion of the neck.

Each of these protuberances, in its natural state, is a body cut into a number of faces; like an artificial multiplying glass; but with this superiority in the workmanship, that as there, every face is plane, here, every one is convex, immensely more numerous, and contained in a much smaller space. If one of these protuberant substances be nicely taken from the head of the insect, washed clean, and placed before the microscope, its structure is elegantly seen, and it becomes an object worthy of the highest admiration. You will find that each of the eyes is an hexagon, varying in its size according to its situation in the head, and that each of them is a distinct convex lens, and has the same effect in forming the image of an object placed before it. Of this you will be convinced, by turning the mirror of the microscope so as to bring the picture of some well-defined object under the eye; thus, turn it towards a house, and in the eye of the insect you will perceive the house diminished to a box, but multiplied into a city; turn it towards a soldier, and you will have an army of pigmies performing every motion at the same instant of time; again, turn the mirror towards a candle, and you will have a beautiful and resplendent blaze from multitudes of regular flames.

Hooke, Catalan, &c. have shewn that these small eyes are furnished with every requisite of vision, and that each of them has the use, the power, and properties of an eye. But we must have recourse to the works of Swammerdam for a full account of the astonishing organization of the eyes of insects. Among other things, he has shewn, that under each facet there is a pyramid of fibres broad at the base, and growing smaller as it proceeds inwards; the pyramid has the same number of sides as the eye, and there are as many hexagonal pyramids, as there are small facets or eyes in the insect. An innumerable number of pulmonary tubes ascend these fibres, terminating in a white fibrous convex membrane; under these membranes there is another, still more delicate and transparent; beneath this, a second species of fibres is transversely applied, like so many beams to support the pyramids that are laid upon them. Still we cannot determine with certainty, how these numerous inlets to sight operate for the service of the animal; they may increase the field of view, augment the intensity of light, and be productive of advantages of which we can have no conception.

Hooke computed 14000 of these facets in the two eyes of a drone; Leeuwenhoek reckoned 6036 in the two eyes of a silkworm, when in its fly state; in the eyes of the libellula he reckoned 12544 hexangular lenses.

Swammerdam covered the reticulated eyes of certain insects with black paint; in this state they flew at random, and seemed to be deprived of their strength; when they settled, they did not avoid the hand that was going to take hold of them. Reaumur made similar experiments on the eyes of bees, which concurred with those of Swammerdam.

Some ephemera flies have four reticulated eyes, two of which are placed as in the common fly; the other two are placed, one beside the other, upon the upper part of the head, and have the appearance of a kind of mushroom, the head extended somewhat beyond the stalk. The first pair are of a brown colour, those of the mushroom form are of a very beautiful citron colour.

In some of the fly class, these reticulated eyes are little inferior in colour and brilliance to the brightest gem. The colour varies in different species; in some you find it green, in others red, &c. some have a most elegant changeable colour thrown over them, partly purple, partly green, and partly of that brassy hue, which is seen on the backs of some of our beetles, and which is not equalled by any other production of art or nature.

Fig. 3. Plate XVI. is a representation of a small part of the cornea of a libellula, as seen by the microscope; the sides of the hexagons in some positions of the light, appear of a fine gold colour, and divided into three parallel borders. Fig. 4. the same object of its natural size.

Fig. 5. Plate XVI. represents a small portion of the cornea of a lobster; here each of the eyes are small squares, not hexagons; a conformation which admits a smaller number in the same surface; so great a number was not necessary in this instance, as the eyes of the lobster are moveable. Fig. 6. the same of its natural size.

OF THE EYES OF THE MONOCULUS POLYPHEMUS.

The monoculus polyphemus, or king crab, has four eyes, two large and two small ones; the large eyes are formed of a great number of transparent amber-like cones, the small ones of a single cone,

“The internal surface of the large eyes, examined with the microscope, is found to be thick set with a great number of small transparent cones, of an amber colour, the bases of which stand downward, and their points upward next the eye of the observer. The cones in general have an oblique direction, except some in the middle of the cornea, about thirty in number, the direction of which is perpendicular. The center of every cone being the most transparent part, and that through which the light passes, on that account the perpendicular or central cones always appear beautifully illuminated at their points. In a word, they are all so disposed, as that a certain number of them receive the light from whatever point it may issue, and transmit it to the immediate organ of sight, which we may reasonably suppose is placed underneath them. The cones are not all of the same length; those on the edges of the cornea are the longest, from whence they gradually diminish as they approach the center, where they are not above half the length of those on the edges.

“The structure of the small eyes being less elaborate, their internal appearance, when placed in the microscope, will be described in a few words. They consist of an oval transparent horny plate, of an amber colour, in the center of which stands a single cone, through which and the oval plate the light passes.”[55]

OF THE EYES OF A SPIDER.

Though the form of this insect is naturally disgusting, yet the eyes make a beautiful object for the microscope. They have generally eight; two on the top of the head, that look directly upwards; two in the front, a little below the foregoing, to discover what passes before it; on each side a couple more, whereof one points sideways forward, the other sideways backward; so that the spider can nearly see all around. These eyes are immoveable, and seem to be formed of a hard transparent horny substance. A portion of each sphere projects externally beyond the socket, the largest part is sunk within it. There is round each eye a circular transparent membrane. Mr. Baker placed the eye of a spider over a pin-hole made through a piece of card, and then applied it as a lens to examine objects; he found it magnified the objects greatly, but that it did not exhibit them distinctly; this he however attributed to the length of time the spider had been dead whose eye he used. The number of eyes is not the same in all species of the spider.

OF THE STEMMATA.

It might be imagined, that as every fly has two reticulated eyes, they could not have occasion for more; but so it has not appeared to that GREAT BEING who formed them, for many are furnished besides with other eyes, differing in form and construction from those that are reticulated.

These were first noticed by M. de la Hire; they are three lucid protuberances placed on the back part of the head of many insects: their surface is glossy, of an hemispheric figure, and a coal black colour. They are transparent, and disposed in a triangular form; by modern naturalists they are termed stemmata.

Reaumur made experiments on these eyes, similar to those he had made on the reticulated ones, and found that when the stemmata were covered with dark varnish, the insects flew but to a small distance, and always at random.

No insect is, I believe, found with both kind of eyes, unless in its perfect state: there are many species which are not furnished with stemmata, gnats and tipulæ are without them.

We are apt to suppose that nature has lavished all her bounty upon her larger creatures, and left her minims of existence, as Shakspeare phrases it, unfinished; with what different ideas must those be impressed, who find the apparatus for vision in these small creatures so various and so wonderful in their structure, and who must perceive so much design and order manifested in the position, construction, and number of these delicate and useful organs.

OF THE BODY OF INSECTS.

The trunk or body of the insect is situated between the head and abdomen. Naturalists divide it into three parts; the thorax, scutellum, and sternum.

The thorax is the upper part of the body, it is of various shapes and proportions; the sides and back of it are often armed with points.

The scutellum, or escutcheon, is the lower part of the body, and is generally of a triangular form; though it adheres to the thorax, it is easily distinguished therefrom by its figure, and often by an intervening suture. It seems intended to assist in expanding the wings.

The sternum is situated on the under part of the thorax; in some species it is pointed behind, as in the elateres; in others, bifid, as in some of the dytisci.

OF THE ABDOMEN OF INSECTS.

The abdomen, or under part of the body, contains the stomach, the intestines, the air vessels, &c. It is composed of several rings or segments, so that it may be moved in various directions, or lengthened and shortened at pleasure; in some it is formed of one piece only. It is perforated with spiracula, or breathing holes, and is terminated by the tail.

The spiracula are small oblong holes or pores placed singly one on each side of every ring of the abdomen; these are the means or instruments of respiration, supply the want of lungs, and form a peculiar characteristic of insects.

OF THE LIMBS OF INSECTS.

By the limbs are here meant the instruments used by the insect both for motion and defence. They are, alæ, the wings; halteres, the poisers; pedes, the legs; cauda, the tail; and aculeus, the sting.

OF THE WINGS OF INSECTS.

The wings are those organs by which the insect is enabled to fly; some have only two, others are furnished with four, two on each side; these are, in some, of the same size; in others, the superior ones are much larger than the inferior: Linnæus has made them the foundation of the order into which he has divided this numerous class of beings. The variety in the form and structure of the wings is almost infinite; the beauty of their colouring, the art with which they are connected to the body, the curious manner in which some are folded up, the fine articulations provided for this purpose, by which they are laid up in their cases when out of use, and yet are ready to be extended in a moment for flight; together with the various ramifications, by which the nourishing juices are circulated, and the wing strengthened, afford a fund of rational investigation highly entertaining; exhibiting, particularly when examined by the microscope, a most wonderful display of divine wisdom and power. The more delicate and transparent wings are covered and protected by elytra, or cases, which are generally hard and opake. The wings of moths and butterflies are mostly farinaceous, covered with a fine dust; by the assistance of the microscope, we discover that this dust is a regular assemblage of organized scales, which will be more particularly noticed hereafter.

The following names are made use of to describe the different kinds of wings. They are first distinguished, with respect to their surfaces, into superior and inferior. The part next the head is called the anterior part; that nearer the tail, the posterior part. The interior part is that next the abdomen; the exterior part is the outermost edge.

Those wings are termed plicatiles, which are folded when the insect is at rest, as in the wasp. Planæ; those which are incapable of being folded. Erectæ; whose superior surfaces are brought in contact when the insect is at rest, as in the ephemera, papiliones, &c. Patentes; if they are extended horizontally when the insect is at rest, as in the phalænæ geometræ. Incumbentes; those insects which, when they are not in motion, cover horizontally with their wings the superior part of the abdomen. Deflexæ; those are also incumbentes, but not horizontally, the outer edges declining towards the sides, Reversæ, are also deflexæ, with this addition, that the edges of the inferior wings project from under the anterior part of the superior ones. Dentatæ; with serrated or scolloped edges. Caudatæ; in these some of the fibres of the wings are extended beyond the margin into a kind of tail. Reticulatæ; when the veins or membranes of the wings put on the appearance of net-work.

The wings are further distinguished by their ornaments, being painted with spots, maculæ; bands, fasciæ; streaks, strigæ: when these are extended lengthways, they are called lines, linæ; and if with dots, punctæ; one or more rings are termed eyes, ocelli; if the spots are shaped like a kidney, they are termed stigmata.

The elytra, or crustaceous cases of the wings are extended when the insect flies, and shut when it rests, forming a longitudinal suture down the middle of the back; they are of various shapes, and distinguished by the following names:

Abbreviata; when they are shorter than the abdomen. Truncata; when their extremities terminate in a transverse direct line. Fastigiata; when of equal or greater length than the abdomen, and terminating in a transverse line. Serrata; having their external margins edged with teeth or notches. Spinosa; when their exterior surfaces are covered with small sharp points. Scabra; when they are very rough. Striata; marked with slender longitudinal furrows. Porcata; having sharp longitudinal ridges. Sulcata; with deep furrows. They are likewise distinguished by the denomination of Hemelytra, when their cases are neither so hard as the elytra, nor so delicate as the transparent wings.

OF THE HALTERES OR POISERS OF INSECTS.

Under the wings of most insects which have only two, there is a small head placed on a stalk, frequently under a little arched scale; these are called halteres, poisers; they appear to be rudiments of the hinder wings: it has been supposed that they serve to keep the body in equilibrio when the insect is flying.

OF THE ELYTRA, AND WINGS UNDER THE ELYTRA.

I have already observed, that the delicate and transparent wings of many insects are covered and protected by elytra, or cases, which also in some measure act as wings.

These exterior cases are harder and more opake than the wings under them; they are generally highly polished, and often enriched with various colours, adorned with ornamental flutings, and studded with brilliants, whose beauties are beyond description. All these ornaments are united in the curculio imperialis,[56] or diamond beetle, one of the richest and most magnificent creatures in nature; the head, the wings, the legs, &c. are curiously beset with scales of a most splendid appearance, outvying the ruby, saphire, and emerald, forming in miniature one of the most noble phenomena that the colours of light can exhibit. It is said, that in the Brazils, from whence they come, it is almost impossible to look at them on a sunny day, when they are flying in little swarms, so great is the glowing splendor of their heightened colours.

The strength and hardness of the elytra are admirably adapted to the various purposes of the insects to which they are appropriated; at the same time that they protect the tender wings beneath them, they serve as a shield to the body; while the ribs, and other prominences, contribute to lessen the friction and diminish the pressure to which they are often exposed. In most of these insects, the under wing is longer and larger than the exterior one, so that it is obliged to be bent and folded up, in order to lye under the elytra; for this purpose they are furnished with strong muscles, and proper articulations to display or conceal them at pleasure.

OF THE WINGS OF THE FORFICULA AURICULARIA, OR EARWIG.

Fig. 1. Plate XIV. is a magnified view of the wing of an earwig. Fig. 2. the natural size. Though the insect is so very common, yet few people know that it has wings, and fewer yet have seen them; they are of a curious and elegant texture, and wonderful structure. The upper part is crustaceous and opake, while the other part is beautifully transparent. They fold up into a very small compass, and lie neatly concealed under the elytra, which are not more than a sixth part of the wing in size. They first fold back the parts A B, and then shut up the ribs like a fan; the strong muscles used for this purpose are seen at the upper part of the figure. The ribs are extended from the center to the outer edge, others are extended only from the edge about half-way; but they are all united by a kind of band, at a small, but equal distance from the edge; the whole evidently contrived to strengthen the wing, and facilitate the various motions thereof; so that, in these wings you find all the motions that are in the most elaborate and portable umbrellas, executed with a neatness and elegance surpassing description. The earwig is a very destructive animal, doing considerable injury to most kinds of wall fruit, to carnations, and other fine flowers, &c. and as they only feed in the night, they escape the search of the gardener. Reeds open at both ends, and placed among fruit trees, are a good trap for them, as they croud into these open channels, and may be blown out into a tub of water. As they conceal themselves in the day-time, those that are curious in flowers place tobacco pipes, lobster claws, &c. on the top of their garden sticks, in order to catch them. This insect differs very little in appearance in its three different states. De Geer asserts, that the female sits on her eggs, and broods over the young ones, as a hen does over her chickens.

OF THE WINGS OF THE HEMEROBIUS PERLA.

So infinite is the variety displayed in the disposition, structure, and ornaments of the wings of insects, that only to enumerate them would fill many pages; I must leave this subject to be further pursued by the reader, contenting myself with presenting him with the view of a wing of the hemerobius perla, as it appears under the microscope. The insect to which it belongs, has acquired the name of hemerobius, from the shortness of its life, as it seldom lives more than two or three days in the fly state. Linnæus has placed it in his fourth class, among those insects which have four transparent wings and no sting. The body of the insect is of a fine green colour; the eyes appear like two delicate beads of burnished gold, whence it is by many called the golden eye. The wings are delicate and elegant, nearly of a length, and exactly similar; they are composed of a beautiful thin transparent membrane, furnished with slender fine ribs, regularly and elegantly disposed, adorned with hairs, and slightly tinged with green. Fig. 1. Plate XV. exhibits its magnified appearance; Fig. 2. the natural size.

OF THE WINGS OF MOTHS AND BUTTERFLIES.

The wings of these insects are mostly farinaceous, being covered with a fine dust, which renders them opake, and produces those beautiful and variegated colours by which they are so richly adorned, and so profusely decked. If this be wiped off, you find the remaining part, or naked wing, to consist of a number of ribs, like those in the leaves of plants; but of a crustaceous or talcy nature; the largest rib runs along and fortifies the exterior edge of the wing; the interior edge is strengthened by a smaller vessel or rib. The ribs are all hollow, by which means the wing, though comparatively large, is very light. The substance between the ribs, and which constitutes the body of the wing, resembles talc,[57] surprizingly thin and transparent; as this is extremely tender, one use of the scales may be to protect it from injuries. When the moth emerges from the chrysalis, the wings are soft and thick, and if they be examined in that state, will be found to consist of two membranes, that may be raised up and separated, by blowing between them with a small tube: the ribs lie between these membranes. You may with the assistance of glasses discover certain strait and circular rows of extremely minute holes, running from rib to rib, or forming figures in the intermediate spaces, which seem to answer to the figures and variegations on the complete wing, and are probably the sockets for the stalks or stems of the small scales.

Ever since the microscope was invented, the dust that covers these wings has engaged the attention of microscopic observers; as by this instrument it is found to be a regular collection of organized scales of various shapes, and in whose construction there is as much symmetry, as there is beauty in their colours. A view of some of these scales, as they appear in the microscope, is exhibited at F E H I, in Fig. 7. Plate XVI. and in Fig. 8. of the natural size. Their shapes are not only very different in moths of various species, but those on the same moth are also found to differ. Of the scales, some are so long and slender that they resemble hairs, except that they are a little flattened and divided at the ends; some are short and broad; some are notched at the edges, others smooth; some are nearly oval, while others are triangular: they are mostly furnished with a short stalk or stem to fix them to the wing. With the microscope, a variety of large stripes or ribs are to be discovered; between these larger lines, minuter ones may be seen with a deep magnifier. The larger stripes rise in general from the exterior notches; some have a rib running down the middle, through their whole length. The upper and under parts of the wing are equally supplied with them.

The regular arrangement of these plates, one beside and partly covering the other, as in the tiling of an house, is best seen by examining a wing in the opake microscope. The prodigious number of small scales which cover the wings of these beautiful insects, is a sure proof of their utility to them, because they are given by HIM who makes nothing in vain.

That the lively and variegated colours, which adorn the wings of the moth and butterfly, arise from the small scales or plates that are planted therein, is very evident from this, that if they be brushed off from it, the wing is perfectly transparent: but whence this profusion and difference of colour on the same wing? is a question as difficult to resolve, as that of Prior, when he asks.

“Why does one climate and one soil endue -

The blushing poppy with a crimson hue,

Yet leave the lilly pale, and tinge the violet blue?”

As the wings of the moths and butterflies are very light, they can support themselves for a long time in the air; their manner of flying is ungraceful, generally moving in a zigzag line, to the right and to the left, alternately ascending and descending; this undulating motion however has its uses, as it disappoints the birds who chase them in taking aim; by which means they frequently elude their pursuit, though continued for a considerable time.

Dr. Hooke[58] endeavoured to investigate the nature of the motions of the wings of insects; and, although he was not able, from the experiments he made, to give a satisfactory account of them, yet as they may be useful to some future inquirer, and lead him more readily into the path of truth, I hope an extract therefrom will not prove unacceptable to the reader. To investigate the mode or manner of moving their wings, he considered with attention those spinning insects that suspend, or as it were poise themselves in one place in the air, without rising or falling, or even moving backwards or forwards; by looking down on these, he could, by a kind of faint shadow, perceive the utmost extremes of the vibratory motion of their wings; the shadow, while they were thus suspended, was not very long, but was lengthened when they endeavoured to fly forwards. He next tried by fixing the legs of a fly upon the top of the stalk of a feather with glue, wax, &c. and then making it endeavour to fly away; he was thereby able to view it in any posture. From hence he collected, that the extreme limits of the vibrations were usually somewhat about the length of the body distant from each other, often shorter, and sometimes longer. The foremost limit was generally a little above the back, and the hinder one somewhat beneath the belly; between these, to judge by the sound, they seemed to move with an equal velocity. The manner of their moving them, if a just idea can be formed by the shadow of the wing, and a consideration of its nature and structure, seemed to be this: the wing being supposed to be in the extreme limit, it is then nearly horizontal, the forepart only being a little depressed; in this situation the wing moves to the lower limit; before it arrives at this, the hinder part begins to move fastest; the area of the wing begins to dip behind, and in that posture it seems to be moved to the upper limit back again. These vibrations, judging by the sound, and comparing them with a string tuned in unison thereto, consist of many hundreds, if not thousands, in a second of time. The powers of the governing faculty of the insect, and the vivacity of its sensations, whereby every organ is stimulated to act with so much velocity and regularity, surpass our present comprehension.

PEDES THE FEET, AND LEGS OF INSECTS.

These are admirably adapted for their intended service, to give the most convenient and proper motion, and, from the variety in their construction, their various articulations, &c. furnish the microscopic observer with an abundance of curious and interesting objects: the most general number is six; many of the class aptera have eight, as the spider; the crab has ten; the oniscus fourteen; the julus has from seventy to one-hundred and twenty on each side. The legs of those insects that have not more than ten, are affixed to the trunk; while those that exceed that number, have part fixed to the trunk, the rest to the abdomen.

The legs of insects are generally divided into four parts. The first, which is usually the largest, is called the femur; the second, or tibia, is joined to the former, and is commonly of the same size throughout, and longer than the femur; this is followed by the third part, which is distinguished by the name of tarsus, or foot; it is composed of several joints, the one articulated to the other, the number of rings varying in different insects; the tarsus is terminated by the unguis, or claw.

The writers on natural history, in order to render their descriptions clear and accurate, have given several names to the legs of insects, from the nature of the motions produced by them. Thus cursorii, from that of running; these are the most numerous. The saltatorii, those that are used for leaping; the thighs of these are remarkably large, by which means they possess considerable strength and power to leap to great distances. The natatorii, those that serve as oars for swimming; the feet of these are flat and edged with hairs, possessing a proper surface to strike against the water, as in the dytiscus, notonecta, &c. Such feet as have no claws are termed mutici. The chelæ, or claws, are an enlargement of the extremity of the fore feet, each of which is furnished with two lesser claws, which act like a thumb and finger, as in the crab. The under part of the feet in some insects is covered with a kind of brush or sponge, by which they are enabled to walk with ease, on the most polished substances, and in situations from which it would seem they must necessarily fall.

Motion is one of the principal phenomena of nature; it is as it were the soul of our system, and is as admirable in the smallest animal, as in the universe at large. It is the principal agent in producing all that diversity and change which perpetually affect every object in the creation. The motions of animals are proportioned to their weight and structure, a flea can leap to the distance of at least two hundred times its own length; were an elephant, a camel, or an horse to leap in the same proportion, their weight would crush them to atoms. The same remark is applicable to spiders, worms, and other insects; the softness of their texture, and the comparative smallness of their specific gravity, enable them to fall without injury from heights that would prove fatal to larger and heavier animals.[59]

Many insects can only move the thigh in a vertical direction, while others can move it in a variety of ways. The progressive motion of insects, and the various methods employed to effect it, will be found a very curious and important subject, and well worthy the attention of the naturalist. The intelligent mechanic will not find it lost labour if he bestow some time on the same subject. Very little has been done on this head, and that principally by Reaumur, in his excellent Memoires; and by M. Weiss, in a Memoir published in the Journal de Physique for 1771. The reader may also consult Borelli de Motu Animalium.

OF THE TAIL AND STING OF INSECTS.

Cauda, the tail, terminates the abdomen, and is constructed in a wonderful manner for answering the purposes for which it is formed, namely, to direct the motion of the insect, to serve as an instrument of defence, or for depositing the eggs; the figure and size thereof varying in each genus and its families. In most insects it is simple, simplex, and yet capable of being extended or drawn back at pleasure; in others, elongata, elongated, as in the crab and scorpion; setacea, shaped like a bristle, as in the raphidia; triseta, with three appendages like bristles, as in the ephemera; in some it is forked, furcata, as in the podura; and in others it is furnished with a pair of forceps, forcipata, as in the forficula; in the blatta, grylli, and others, it is foliosa, or like a leaf; in the scorpion and panorpa it is telifera, furnished with a dart or sting. Further particulars may be obtained from the Philosophia Entomologica of Fabricius.

Aculeus, or the sting, is an instrument with which insects wound and instil a poison; the sting generally proceeds from the under part of the last ring of the belly: in some it is sharp and pointed, in others serrated or formed like a saw. It is used by many insects both as an offensive and defensive weapon; by others it is only used to pierce the substances where they mean to deposit their eggs. This instrument cannot be properly seen or known, but with the assistance of a microscope.

OF THE STING OF A BEE.

Of bees, it is only the labourers and the queen that have stings. The apparatus is of a very curious construction, fitted for inflicting a wound, and at the same time conveying poison into that wound.

The apparatus consists of two piercers conducted in a sheath, groove, or director.

This groove is rather large at the base, but terminates in a point; it is affixed to the last scale of the upper side of the abdomen by thirteen thin scales, six on each side, and one behind the rectum. These scales inclose the rectum all round, and are attached to each other by thin membranes which allow of a variety of motions; three of them are however attached more closely to a round and curved process, which comes from the basis of the groove in which the sting lies, as also to the curved arms of the sting which spread out externally. The two stings may be said to begin by those two curved processes at their union with the scales, and converging towards the groove at its base, which they enter, and then pass along to its point.

The two stings are serrated or notched towards the points; they can be thrust out a little way, and drawn within it. These parts are all moved by very strong muscles, which give motions in almost all directions, but most particularly outwards. It is wonderful how deep they will pierce solid bodies with this sting.

To perform this by mere force, two things are necessary, power of muscles, and strength of sting; neither of which they seem to possess in a sufficient degree. Mr. J. Hunter thinks that it cannot be by simple force, because the least pressure bends the sting in any direction. It is probable that the serrated edges may assist, by cutting their way like a saw.

The apparatus for the poison consists of two small ducts, which are the glands that secrete the poison; these lie in the abdomen among the air cells, they soon however unite into one oblong bag; at the opposite end of which a duct passes out, which runs towards the angle where the two stings meet, and, entering between them, forms a canal by the union of the two stings at this point. From the serrated construction of the stings the bee can seldom disengage them, and hence, when they pass into materials of too strong a nature, the bee generally leaves them behind, and often a part of the bowels therewith.[60]

DISTINGUISHING CRITERIA OF INSECTS.

It has already been observed, that the bodies of insects are covered with a hard skin, answering the purpose of an internal skeleton, and forming one of the characters by which they are distinguished from other animals. This external covering is very strong in those insects which, from their manner of life, are particularly liable to great friction, or violent compression; but is more tender and delicate in such as are not so exposed. The skin of insects, like that of larger animals, is porous; the pores in some species are very large; many insects often change or cast off their skin; this exuvia forms an excellent object for the microscope.

Another distinguishing criterion of insects is the colour of their circulating fluid or blood, which is never red; this, at first sight, seems liable to some objections, on account of the drop of red liquor which is often procured from small insects when squeezed or pressed to pieces. It does not appear, however, that this is the blood of the little animal; when it existed as a worm there was no such appearance, and when transformed to the perfect, or fly state, it is only found in the eye, and not in the body, which would be the case if it circulated in the veins of the insect. It is probable there is a circulation of some fluid analogous to the blood in most insects: with the assistance of the microscope this circulation may be perceived in many; but the circulating liquor is not red.

To these discriminating characteristics we may also add the following particulars:

1. That the body of insects is divided by incisuræ, or transversal divisions, from whence they take their name.

2. That they are furnished with antennæ, which are placed upon the fore part of the head; these are jointed and moveable in various directions.

3. That no insect in its perfect state, or after it has gone through all its transformations, has less than six legs, though many have more. There are some moths, whose two fore feet are so small, as scarcely to entitle them to that name.

4. That insects have neither the organs of smell nor hearing; at least they have not as yet been discovered, though it is reported that Fabricius has lately found and described the organs of hearing in a lobster.[61]

5. That they do not respire air by the mouth, but that they inspire and exhale it by means of organs which are placed on the body.

6. That they move the jaws from right to left, not up and down.

7. That they have neither eye-lid nor pupil.

To these we may also add, that the mechanism resulting from the LIFE of insects is not of so compound a nature as in animals of a larger size. They have less variety of organs, though some of them are more multiplied; and it is by the number and situation of these that their rank in the great scale of beings is to be determined.

These characters are often united in the same insect; there are, however, some species in which one or two of them are wanting.

The student in entomology, who wishes to attain a proper knowledge of the science, and indeed every microscopic observer, desirous of availing himself of the discoveries of others, and of communicating intelligibly his own, will find it necessary to make himself conversant with the various classes, genera, &c. into which insects have been divided by Linnæus. Every system has its defects, and probably some may be found in that of this truly celebrated naturalist, but the purpose of science is answered by using those discriminations which are generally adopted.

The following general idea of the Linnæan classes may serve as a foundation for this knowledge: a more particular account may be obtained by consulting the under-mentioned works.

Institutions of Entomology, a translation of Linnæus’s Ordines et Genera Insectorum, or systematic arrangement of insects, &c. by Thomas Pattinson Yeats.

Fundamenta Entomologiæ, or an Introduction to the Knowledge of Insects, translated from Linnæus by W. Curtis, the ingenious author of Flora Londinensis, the Botanical Magazine, &c.

The Genera Insectorum of Linnæus, exemplified by various Specimens of English Insects, drawn from Nature, by James Barbut.[62]

Class the first. Coleoptera. The insects of this class have four wings; the upper ones, called the elytra, are crustaceous, being of a hard horny substance; these, when shut, form a longitudinal suture down the back, as in the scarabæus, melolontha, or cockchaffer, &c.

2. Hemiptera. These have also four wings; but the elytra are different, being half crustaceous, half membranaceous: the wings do not form a longitudinal suture, but extend the one over the other, as in the gryllus, grasshopper, &c.

3. Lepidoptera. Those which have four membranaceous wings covered with fine scales, appearing to the naked eye like powder or meal, as in the butterfly and moth.

4. Neuroptera. These have four membranaceous transparent wings, which are generally reticulated, the tail without a sting, as in the libellula, or dragon fly.

5. Hymenoptera. These, like the preceding class, have four membranaceous naked wings; but the abdomen is furnished with a sting, as in the bee, wasp, ichneumon, &c.

6. Diptera. These have only two wings, and are furnished with halteres, or poisers, instead of under wings, as in the common house fly, gnat, &c.

7. Aptera. These are distinguished by having no wings, as in the spider, louse, acarus, &c.

OF THE TRANSFORMATION OF INSECTS.

Insects are farther distinguished from other animals by the wonderful changes that all those of the winged species without exception, and some which are destitute of wings, must pass through, before they arrive at the perfection of their nature. Most animals retain, during their whole life, the same form which they receive at their birth; but insects go through wonderful exterior and interior changes, insomuch that the same individual, at its birth and middle state, differs essentially from that under which it appears when arrived at a state of maturity; and this difference is not confined to marks, colour, or texture, but is extended to their form, proportion, motion, organs, and habits of life.

The ancient writers on natural history were not unacquainted with these transformations, but the ideas they entertained of them were very imperfect and often erroneous. The changes are produced in so sudden a manner, that they seem like the metamorphoses recorded in the fables of the ancients, and it is not improbable that those fables owe their origin to the transformation of insects. It was not till towards the latter end of the last century that any just conception of this subject was formed; the mystery was then unveiled by those two great anatomists Malpighi and Swammerdam, who observed these insects under every appearance, and traced them through all their forms; by dissecting them at the time just preceding their changes, they were enabled to prove that the moth and butterfly grow and strengthen themselves, that their members are formed and unfolded under the figure of the insect we call a caterpillar, and that the growth was effected by a developement of parts; they also shewed that it is not difficult to exhibit in these all the parts of the future moth, as its wings, legs, antennæ, &c. and consequently that the changes which are apparently sudden to our eyes, are gradually formed under the skin of the animal, and only appear sudden to us, because the insect then gets rid of a case which had before concealed its real members. By this case it is preserved from injuries, till its wings, and every other part of its delicate frame are in a condition to bear the impulse of the sun, and the action of the air naked; when all the parts are grown firm, and ready to perform their several offices, the perfect animal appears in the form of its parent. Though these discoveries dissipated the false wonders of the metamorphoses that the world before believed, they created a fund of real admiration by the discovery of the truth. These transformations clearly prove, that without experience every thing in nature would appear a mystery; so much so, that a person unacquainted with the transformation of the caterpillar to the chrysalis, and of this to the fly, would consider them as three distinct species; for who, by the mere light of nature, or the powers of reason unaided by experience, could believe that a butterfly, adorned with four beautiful wings, furnished with a long spiral proboscis or tongue, instead of a mouth, and with six legs, proceeded from a disgusting hairy caterpillar, provided with jaws and teeth, and fourteen feet? Without experience, who could imagine that a long white smooth soft worm hid under the earth, should be transformed into a black crustaceous beetle? Nor could any one, from considering them in their perfect state, have discovered the relation which they bear to the several changes of state, and their corresponding forms, through which they have passed, and which are to appearance as distinct as difference can make them.

The life of those insects which pass through these various changes, may be divided into four principal parts, each of which will be found truly worthy of the utmost attention of the microscopic observer.

The first change is from the EGG into the LARVA, or, as it is more generally called, into the worm or caterpillar. From the LARVA, it passes into the PUPA, or chrysalis state. From the PUPA, into the IMAGO, or fly state.

Few subjects can be found that are more expressive of the extensive goodness of Divine Providence, than these transformations, in which we find the occasional and temporary parts and organs of these little animals suited and adapted with the most minute exactness to the immediate manner and convenience of their existence; which again are shifted and changed, upon the insects commencing a new scene and state of action. In its larva state the insect appears groveling, heavy, and voracious, in the form of a worm, with a long body composed of successive rings; crawling along by the assistance of these, or small little hooks, which are placed on the side of the body. Its head is armed with strong jaws, its eyes smooth, entirely deprived of sex, the blood circulating from the hind part towards the head. It breathes through small apertures, which are situated on each side of the body, or through one or more tubes placed in the hinder part thereof. While it is in the larva state, the insect is as it were masked, and its true appearance concealed; for under this mask the more perfect form is hidden from the human eye. In the pupa, or chrysalis state, the insect may be compared to a child in swaddling cloathes; its members are all folded together under the breast, and inclosed within one or more coverings, remaining there without motion. While in this state, no insects but those of the hemiptera class, take any nourishment. The change is effected various ways; in some insects the skin of the larva opens, and leaves a passage, with all its integuments; in others, the skin hardens and becomes a species of cone, which entirely conceals the insect; others form or spin cones for themselves, and in this state they remain till the parts have acquired sufficient firmness, and are ready to perform their several offices.