OF THE HABITATION OF INSECTS.

Insects may be divided, with respect to their habitations, into two classes, aquatic and terrestrial.

Stagnant waters are generally filled with insects, who live therein in different manners. These are, 1. Aquatic insects which remain always on the superficies of the water, or which at least plunge themselves therein but rarely. 2. Others that live only in the water, and cannot subsist out of it. 3. Many, after having lived in the water while in the larva and pupa state, quit it afterwards with wings, and become entirely terrestrial. 4. Some undergo all their transformations in the water, and then become amphibious. 5. Others again are born and grow in the water, but undergo their pupa state on dry land, and after they are arrived at their perfect state, live equally in air and water; and 6. There are some who live at the same time part in the water and part on land, but after their transformation cease to be aquatic.

Among the insects which remain on the superficies of the water, are some spiders, which run with great address and agility, without moistening their feet or their body; when they repose themselves, they extend their feet as much as possible. There are also aquatic bugs, which swim, or rather run on the water with great velocity, and by troops; another bug walks very slowly on the water; the gyrinus moves very swiftly, and in circles. There is a species of podura[91] which live in society, and are often accumulated together in little black lumps. Those insects which always live in the water are generally born with the figure which they retain during their whole lives, as the monoculi, crabs, several kinds of water mites, &c.

[91] De Geer Discours sur les Insectes, tom. 2, p. 103.

Those insects which, after having lived in the water, leave it when in a winged state, are very numerous: among these we may reckon the libellula, the ephemera, the phryganea, culices, tipulæ, and some species of muscæ. All these, when in the larva and pupa state, live in the water; but when they have assumed their perfect form, are entirely terrestrial, and would perish in their former element.

The notonecta, the nepa or aquatic scorpion, &c. never quit the water till they have passed through all their transformations, when they become amphibious, generally quitting it in the evening.

The water-beetles, of which there are many species, remain in the water all day, but toward evening come upon the ground and fly about, then plunge themselves again in the water at the approach of the rising sun. The larvæ of these insects are entirely aquatic, but when the time of their pupa state arrives, they take to the earth, where they make a spherical case; so that these insects are aquatic in the larva, terrestrial in the pupa, and amphibious in the imago state.

We find an instance of an insect that lives at the same time in the water and the air, in the singular larva described by Reaumur, Memoires de l’Acad. in 1714, p. 203. It has the head and tail in the water, while the rest of the body is continually kept above the surface. In order to support itself in this singular position, it bends the body, bringing the head near the tail, raising the rest above the water, and supporting itself against some fixed object, as a plant, or against the borders of the pond; or, if it be placed in a glass vessel, against the sides of the vessel; and if the glass be inclined gently, so that the water may nearly cover the larva, it immediately changes its position, in order that part of the body may be kept dry.

At the baths of Abano, a small town in the Venetian state, there is a multitude of springs, strongly impregnated with sulphur, and of a boiling heat. In the midst of these boiling springs, within three feet of four or five of them, there is a tepid one about blood-warm. In this water, not only the common potamogetons and confervas, or pond-weeds and water-mosses are found growing in an healthy state, but numbers of small black water beetles are seen swimming about, which die on being taken out and plunged suddenly into cold water.[92]

[92] Jones’s Physiological Disquisitions, p. 171.

Many insects that live under the surface of the earth crawl out on certain occasions, as the julus, scolopendra, and the oniscus; they are often also to be found under stones, or pieces of rotten wood. Some insects remain under ground part of their life, but quit that situation after their change; as do some caterpillars, many of the coleoptera class, &c. There are some species of spiders, which form habitations in sand; one of which makes a hole in the sand, lining it with a kind of silk, to prevent its crumbling away; this spider generally keeps on the watch near the mouth of the hole, and, if a fly approach, runs at it with such velocity, as seldom to fail in its attempt of seizing the little animal, which is immediately conveyed to the den of the spider. The formica-leo, or ant-lion, also inhabits sand.[93]

[93] The art and dexterity with which the formica-leo entraps ants, as well as other insects, merits notice; he makes a pit in fine dry sand, shaped like a funnel or an inverted cone, at the point or reverted apex of which he takes his station, concealing every part of his body except the tips of his two horns; these are expanded to the two sides of the pit. When an insect treads on the edge of this precipice, it perhaps slides into it; if not, its steps remove a little of the sand, which of course descends down the sides, and gives the enemy notice of his prey. He then throws up the sand with which his head is covered, to involve the insect, and bring it to the bottom with the returning force of the sand: this, by repeated efforts he is sure to effect, as all the attempts of the unfortunate victim to escape, when once within the verge of the pit, are in vain. One species of the formica-leo forms no pit to entrap its prey, but seizes it by main force. Edit.

Another spider, discovered by M. l’Abbe Sauvage,[94] burrows in the earth like a rabbit, making a hole one or two feet deep, of a regular diameter, and sufficiently large to move itself with ease. It lines the whole of it, either to keep the ground from tumbling in, or in order to perceive more regularly at the bottom what happens at the mouth, at which it forms a kind of door, made of different layers of earth, connected together by threads and covered with a strong web of a close texture; the threads are prolonged on one side, and fixed to the ground, so as to form a strong joint; the door is hung in such a manner, as always to fall by its own gravity. One of these cases or nests is in her Majesty’s cabinet at Kew.

[94] Histoire de l’Acad. 1758, p. 26.

The several parts of trees and plants afford a variety of habitations for insects, where they find an abundance of food. They dwell, l. in the roots; 2. in the wood; 3. in the leaves, and in the galls which grow upon them and the branches; 4. in the flowers; 5. in the fruits and grains. To enumerate the various species of these inhabitants would be endless; many particulars have been already noticed; it has also appeared that some inhabit the most fœtid substances they can find, while others dwell with and live on the larger animals; so that it only remains just to mention some of those in whom industry and art is more strongly marked to our eyes than in others.

Among the solitary bees there are so many curious circumstances to be described, that a single volume would not suffice to contain the particulars; we shall here only relate such as concern their habitations. One of these forms its nest under ground, which is composed of several cells artfully let into each other, but not covered with a common inclosure; each cell consists of two or three membranes, inexpressibly fine, and placed over each other. The cavity, in which the nest is placed, is smeared over with a layer of matter, like that of which the cells are formed, and apparently similar to the viscous humour which snails spread in their passage from one place to another, and it is probable that they are formed of the same materials; this substance, though of so delicate a nature, gives them such a degree of consistency, that they may be handled without altering their form. An egg is deposited at the bottom of each cell, where, after it is hatched, the worm finds itself in the midst of a plentiful stock of provision; for in each cell there is placed a quantity of paste, or a kind of wax, which is to serve as food for the worm, and support the wall of the cell. The worm is also instructed so to conduct itself, and eat this food, as to leave sufficient props for supporting the walls of its apartment. Many species of these bees content themselves with penetrating into the earth, scooping out hollow cavities therein, polishing the walls, then depositing an egg and a sufficient quantity of provisions.

There is another species, that forms its nest under ground with remarkable industry; this bee generally makes a perpendicular hole in the earth about three inches deep, and cylindrical, till within about three-fourths of an inch of the bottom, when it begins to enlarge; as soon as the bee has given it the suitable proportions, it proceeds to line not only the whole inside of its dwelling, but round the entrance; the substance with which it is lined is of a crimson colour, and looks like satin. From this circumstance Reaumur[95] terms it the tapestry bee. This tapestry or lining is formed of fragments of the flowers of the wild poppy, which she cuts out curiously, and then seizing them with her legs, conveys them to her nest. If the pieces are wrinkled, she first straightens and then affixes them to her walls with wonderous art; she generally applies two layers of these fragments one over the other. If the piece she has cut and transported be too large for the place she intends it for, she clips off the superfluous parts and conveys the shreds out of the apartment. After the bee has lined her cell, she fills it nearly half an inch deep with a paste proper to nourish the larva when hatched from the egg; when the bee has amassed a sufficient quantity of paste, she then takes her tapestry, and folds it over the paste and egg, which are by these means inclosed as it were in a bag of paste; this done, she fills up with earth the empty space that is above the bag. There is another bee which does the same with rose-leaves, and in the substance of a thick post. A friend of mine had a piece of wood cut from a strong post that supported the roof of a cart-house, full of these cells or round holes, three-eighths of an inch in diameter, and about three-fourths deep, each of which was filled with these rose-leaf cases finely covered in at top and bottom.

[95] Reaumur Memoires pour l’Histoire des Insectes, edit. 8vo. tom. 6, partie 1, p. 170.

The mason bee is so called by Reaumur from the manner of its building its nest. These bees collect with their jaws small parcels of earth and sand, which they glue together with a strong cement furnished from the proboscis; and of this they form a simple but commodious habitation, which is generally placed along walls that are exposed to the south. Each nest resembles a lump of rude earth, of about six or seven inches diameter, thrown against the wall; the labour of constructing so large an edifice must be very great, as the bee can only carry a few grains at a time. The exterior form is rude and irregular, but the construction and art exhibited in the interior parts make up for this seeming defect; it is generally divided into twelve or fifteen cells, separated from each other by a thick wall; in each of these an egg is deposited by the parent bee. The cells are not constructed all at once, for when one is finished, she places an egg therein, with a sufficient quantity of honey to nourish the larva; she then builds another. When the insect is arrived at a proper state, it penetrates through its inclosures by means of its strong jaws. When all the bees have quitted the nest, there are as many holes on the surface thereof as there are cells within. We find no neutral bees among this species, or at least we do not know of any being yet discovered.

Another species of the solitary bee (apis centuncularis, Linn.) constructs her nest in pieces of rotten wood, and has therefore been called the carpenter bee.[96] She divides it into stages, disposing them sometimes in three rows, with partitions curiously left between each; in these she deposits her eggs, with the food necessary for the young ones when hatched. They separate the wood in a very expeditious manner, by dividing its ligneous fibres or threads, till they have made a proper sized hole.

[96] Geoffroy Hist. abregee des Insectes, tom. 2, p. 401.

The art and sagacity displayed by another bee,[97] whose nest is constructed of single pieces of leaves, is truly wonderful. The nest itself is cylindrical, formed of several cells, placed one within the other, as thimbles are in a hard-ware shop. The cells consist of several pieces cut from one leaf, of forms and proportions proper to coincide with the place each is intended to occupy. The outer case or cover is formed with equal care and exactness. In a word, says Bonnet, there is so much exactness, symmetry, uniformity, and skill, in this little master-piece, that we should not believe it to be the work of a fly, if we did not know at what school she learnt the art of constructing it. In each cell the mother deposits an almost liquid substance, and yet so nicely are the cells formed, as not to suffer any of this substance to be lost. But for a minute account of the works of this bee, and the curious mechanism of its cells, we must refer the reader to Reaumur’s admirable history of insects.

[97] Reaumur Memoires pour l’Histoire des Insectes, tom. 6, par. 1, p. 122.

The proceedings of the mason ichneumon wasp,[98] sphex, Linn. are totally different from those of the common wasp, though equally curious. It generally begins its work in May, and continues it for the greatest part of June. The true object of her labour seems to be the digging of a hole a few inches deep in the ground; yet in the constructing of this, she forms a hollow tube above ground, the base of which is the aperture of the hole, and which is raised as high above ground as the hole is deep below; it is formed with a great deal of care, resembling a gross kind of fillagree work, consisting of the sand drawn from the hole. The sand out of which she excavates her cell, is nearly as hard as a common stone; this it readily softens with a penetrating liquor with which she is well provided; a drop or two of it is imbibed immediately by the sand on which it falls, which is instantly rendered so soft, that she can separate and knead it with her teeth and fore feet, forming it into a small ball, which she places on the edge of the hole as the foundation stone of the pillar she is going to erect; the whole of it is formed of such balls, ranged circularly, and then placed one above the other. She leaves her work at intervals, probably in order to renew her stock of that liquor which is so necessary for her operations. These intervals are of short duration; she soon returns, and labours with so much activity and ardour, that in a few hours she will dig a hole two or three inches deep, and raise a hollow pillar two inches high. After the column has been raised a certain height perpendicular from the ground, it begins to curve a little, which curvature increases till it is finished, though the cylindrical form is maintained: she constructs several of these holes all of the same form, and for the same purpose. It is easy to see why the hole was dug in the ground; that it was destined to receive an egg; but it is not so easy to perceive why the tube of sand was formed. By attending to the labours of the wasp, one end, however, may be discovered; it will be found to serve the purpose of a scaffold, and that the balls are as useful to the wasp, as materials, &c. to the mason; and are therefore placed as much within her reach as possible. She uses them to stop and fill up the hole after she has deposited an egg therein, so that the pillar is then destroyed, and not the least remains left in the nest. The parent wasp generally leaves ten or twelve worms as provision necessary and proper for the growth of the young larva: no purveyor could take better precautions than our wasp, for she has received her instructions from HIM who provides for the necessities of all his creatures. In selecting the worms, she chooses those of a proper size, that they may be sufficient in quantity, and of an age that will not be in danger of perishing with hunger, in which case they would have been corrupted; she therefore selects them when they have their full growth. It is also observed, that if she choose a larger sort, she gives a less number of them, and so reciprocally.

[98] Reaumur Mem. pour l’Histoire des Insectes, tom. xi. par. 2, p. 9.

From a retrospect view of this chapter, we may observe a striking difference between man and the lower orders of animal creation. Man is born totally ignorant; so much so, that he has no knowledge even of the mother’s breast, till he has been brought acquainted with it by repeated trials; he has no innate ideas, is unable to choose what is proper for his food; he cannot form his voice to any articulate pronunciation, or to express the affections of love; whereas the quadruped, the bird, and the insect, are born to all that knowledge which is necessary for the gratification of those desires or that love which forms their life; and, consequently, in the knowledge of every thing relating to their well-being, their food, their habitations, the commerce of the sexes, their provision for their young, &c. from the impulse of the pleasure arising from these innate desires and affections, the larva is also prompted to seek and aspire after a change of its earthly state. If it were not foreign to the subject in hand, it might be easy to shew, by a variety of reasons, that this imperfection of man at his nativity constitutes his real perfection, and places him infinitely, if I may so speak, above the brute creation; for man is not created relatively perfect, but formed a recipient of all perfection.