The general economy of these insects is similar. Having first dug a

cylindrical cavity of the requisite dimensions, and deposited an egg

at the bottom, they inclose along with it one or more caterpillars,

spiders, or other insects, each particular species for the most part

selecting a distinct kind, as a provision for the young one when

hatched, and sufficiently abundant to nourish it until it becomes

a pupa. Many thus furnish several cells. This process, however, is

varied by different species, some of whose operations are worthy of a

more detailed description.

One of the most early histories of the procedure of an insect of this

kind, probably the common sand-wasp (_Ammophila vulgaris_), is left us

by the excellent Ray, who observed it along with his friend Willughby.

On the 22d of June 1667, he tells us, they noticed this insect dragging

a green caterpillar thrice as big as itself, which after thus conveying

about fifteen feet, it deposited at the entrance of a hole previously

dug in the sand. Then removing a pellet of earth from its mouth, it

descended into the cavity, and, presently returning, dragged along with

it the caterpillar. After staying awhile it again ascended, then rolled

pieces of earth into the hole, at intervals scratching the dust into

it like a dog with its fore feet, and entering it as if to press down

and consolidate the mass: flying also once or twice to an adjoining

fir-tree, possibly to procure resin for agglutinating the whole. Having

filled the burrow to a level with the surrounding earth so as to

conceal the entrance, it took two fir-leaves lying at hand, and placed

them near the orifice as if to mark the place.--Such is the anecdote

left on record by our illustrious countryman, of whose accuracy of

observation there can be no doubt[661]. Who that reads it can refrain

from joining in the reflection which it calls from him, "_Quis hæc

non mihi miretur et stupeat? Quis hujusmodi opera meræ machinæ possit

attribuere_[662]_?_"

I myself, when walking with a friend some months ago, observed

nearly similar manœuvres performed by another hymenopterous insect

which may be called a spider-wasp (_Pompilus_), which attracted our

attention as it was dragging a spider to its cell. The attitude in

which it carried its prey, namely with its feet constantly upwards;

its singular mode of walking, which was backwards, except for a foot

or two when it went forwards, moving by jerks and making a sort

of pause every few steps; and the astonishing agility with which,

notwithstanding its heavy burthen, it glided over or between the

grass, weeds, and other numerous impediments in the rough path along

which it passed--together formed a spectacle which we contemplated

with admiration. The distance which we thus observed it to traverse

was not less than twenty-seven feet, and great part of its journey

had probably been performed before we saw it. Once or twice, when

we first noticed it, it laid down the spider, and making a small

circuit returned and took it up again. But for the ensuing twenty or

twenty-five feet it never stopped, but proceeded in a direct line for

its burrow with the utmost speed. When opposite the hole, which was

in a sand bank by the way side, it made a sharp turn, as evidently

aware of being in the neighbourhood of its abode, but when advanced

a little further laid down its burthen and went to reconnoitre.

At first it climbed up the bank, but, as if discovering that this

was not the direction, soon returned, and, after another survey

perceiving the hole, took up the spider and dragged it in after it.

In the two instances above given, one dead caterpillar or spider

only was deposited in each hole. But an insect described by Reaumur

under the name of the mason-wasp (_Epipone spinipes_), very common

in some parts of England, after having excavated a burrow, with an

ingenuity to which on a future occasion I shall draw your attention,

places along with its egg as food for the future young, about twelve

little green grubs without feet, which it has carefully selected full

grown and conveyed without injuring them. You will inquire, Why this

difference of procedure? With regard to the choice of a number of

small grubs rather than of one large caterpillar, what I have said

in a former letter on the subject of different species of this tribe

being appointed to prey upon and thus keep within due limits the

larvæ of different kinds of insects, will be a sufficient answer.

But one circumstance creditable to the talents of the mason-wasp as

a skilful purveyor should not be omitted, namely, that the number of

grubs laid up is not always the same, but is exactly proportioned

to their size, eleven or twelve being stored when they are small,

but only eight or nine when larger. With respect however to the

caution of the wasp in selecting full grown grubs and conveying them

uninjured to her hole, a satisfactory explanation may be given.

If those that are but partly grown were chosen, they would die in

a short time for want of food, and putrefying would destroy the

inclosed egg, or the young one which springs from it. But when larvæ

of any kind have attained their full size, and are about to pass into

the pupa state, they can exist for a long period without any further

supply. By selecting these, therefore, and placing them uninjured

in the hole, however long the interval before the egg hatches, the

disclosed larva is sure of a sufficiency of fresh and wholesome

nutriment.--To prevent the possibility of any injury to its egg from

the motions or voracity of this living prey, the wasp is careful to

pack the whole so closely, each grub being coiled above the other in

a series of rings, and to consolidate the earth so firmly above them,

that they have not the slightest power of motion[663].--Those which

select more powerful caterpillars, or revenge the injuries of their

insect brethren by devoting spiders to the destruction they have so

often caused, take care to sting them in such a manner as, without

killing them outright, will incapacitate them from doing any injury.

Zeal and activity in providing for the well-being of their future

progeny, not inferior to what are exhibited by the tribe of

Ichneumons, _Sphecina_[664], and mason-wasps, though less cruelly

exerted, are also shown by various species of wild bees, of which we

have in this country a vast number. Having first excavated a proper

cell with a dexterity and persevering labour never enough to be

admired, they next deposit in it an egg, which they cover with a mass

of pollen or honey collected with unwearied assiduity from a thousand

flowers. As soon as the grub is hatched, it finds itself enveloped in

this delicious banquet provided for it by the cares of a mother it is

doomed never to behold; and so accurately is the repast proportioned

to its appetite and its wants, that as soon as the whole is consumed

it has no longer need of food; it clothes itself in a silken cocoon,

becomes a pupa, and after a deep sleep of a few days bursts from its

cell an active bee.

No circumstance connected with the _storgé_ of insects, is more

striking than the herculean and incessant labour which it leads

them cheerfully to undergo. Some of these exertions are so

disproportionate to the size of the insect, that nothing short of

ocular conviction could attribute them to such an agent. A wild bee

or a Sphex, for instance, will dig a hole in a hard bank of earth

some inches deep and five or six times its own size, and labour

unremittingly at this arduous undertaking for several days, scarcely

allowing itself a moment for eating or repose. It will then occupy

as much time in searching for a store of food; and no sooner is this

task finished, than it will set about repeating the process, and

before it dies will have completed five or six similar cells or even

more. If you would estimate this industry at its proper value, you

should reflect what kind of exertion it would require in a man to dig

in a few days out of hard clay or sand, with no other tools than his

nails and teeth, five or six caverns twenty feet deep and four or

five wide--for such an undertaking would not be comparatively greater

than that of the insects in question.

Similar laborious exertions are not confined to the bee or Sphex

tribe. Several beetles in depositing their eggs exhibit examples of

industry equally extraordinary. The common dor or clock (_Geotrupes

stercorarius_), which may be found beneath every heap of dung, digs

a deep cylindrical hole, and, carrying down a mass of the dung to

the bottom, in it deposits its eggs. And many of the species of the

_Scarabæidæ_[665] roll together wet dung into round pellets, deposit

an egg in the midst of each, and when dry push them backwards by

their hind feet into holes of the surprising depth of three feet,

which they have previously dug for their reception, and which are

often several yards distant. Frequently the road lies across a

depression in the surface, and the pellet when nearly pushed to the

summit rolls back again. But our patient Sisyphi are not easily

discouraged. They repeat their efforts again and again, and in the

end their perseverance is rewarded by success. The attention of

these insects to their eggs is so remarkable, that it was observed

in the earliest ages, and is mentioned by ancient writers, but with

the addition of many fables, as that they were all of the male

sex, that they became young again every year, that they rolled the

pellets containing their eggs from sun-rise to sun-set every day,

for twenty-eight days without intermission[666], &c. It is one of

this tribe of beetles (_S. sacer_) whose image is so often met with

amongst the hieroglyphics of the Egyptians, with whom it was a symbol

of the world, of the sun, and of a courageous warrior. Of the world,

as P. Valerianus supposes, on account of the orbicular form of its

pellets of dung, and the notion of their being rolled from sun-rise

to sun-set; of the sun, because of the angular projections from its

head resembling rays, and the thirty joints of the six tarsi of its

feet answering to the days of the month; and of a warrior, from the

idea of manly courage being connected with its supposed birth from a

male only[667]. It was as symbolical of this last that its image was

worn upon the signets of the Roman soldiers; and as typical of the

sun, the source of fertility, it is yet, as Dr. Clarke informs us,

eaten by the women to render them prolific[668].

These beetles, however, in point of industry must yield the palm

to one (_Necrophorus Vespillo_) whose singular history was first

detailed by M. Gleditsch in _the Acts of the Berlin Society_ for

1752. He begins by informing us that he had often remarked that dead

moles when laid upon the ground, especially if upon loose earth, were

almost sure to disappear in the course of two or three days, often

of twelve hours. To ascertain the cause, he placed a mole upon one

of the beds in his garden. It had vanished by the third morning; and

on digging where it had been laid, he found it buried to the depth

of three inches, and under it four beetles which seemed to have been

the agents in this singular inhumation. Not perceiving any thing

particular in the mole, he buried it again; and on examining it at

the end of six days he found it swarming with maggots apparently the

issue of the beetles, which M. Gleditsch now naturally concluded had

buried the carcase for the food of their future young. To determine

these points more clearly, he put four of these insects into a glass

vessel half filled with earth and properly secured, and upon the

surface of the earth two frogs. In less than twelve hours one of

the frogs was interred by two of the beetles: the other two ran

about the whole day as if busied in measuring the dimensions of the

remaining corpse, which on the third day was also found buried.

He then introduced a dead linnet. A pair of the beetles were soon

engaged upon the bird. They began their operations by pushing out the

earth from under the body so as to form a cavity for its reception;

and it was curious to see the efforts which the beetles made by

dragging at the feathers of the bird from below to pull it into its

grave. The male having driven the female away continued the work

alone for five hours. He lifted up the bird, changed its place,

turned it and arranged it in the grave, and from time to time came

out of the hole, mounted upon it and trod it under foot, and then

retired below and pulled it down. At length, apparently wearied with

this uninterrupted labour, it came forth and leaned its head upon

the earth beside the bird without the smallest motion as if to rest

itself, for a full hour, when it again crept under the earth. The

next day in the morning the bird was an inch and a half under ground,

and the trench remained open the whole day, the corpse seeming as

if laid out upon a bier, surrounded with a rampart of mould. In the

evening it had sunk half an inch lower, and in another day the work

was completed and the bird covered.--M. Gleditsch continued to add

other small dead animals, which were all sooner or later buried; and

the result of his experiment was, that in fifty days four beetles had

interred in the very small space of earth allotted to them, twelve

carcases: viz. four frogs, three small birds, two fishes, one mole,

and two grasshoppers, besides the entrails of a fish, and two morsels

of the lungs of an ox. In another experiment a single beetle buried

a mole forty times its own bulk and weight in two days[669]. It is

plain that all this labour is incurred for the sake of placing in

security the future young of these industrious insects along with

a necessary provision of food. One mole would have sufficed a long

time for the repast of the beetles themselves, and they could have

more conveniently fed upon it above ground than below. But if they

had left thus exposed the carcase in which their eggs were deposited,

both would have been exposed to the imminent risk of being destroyed

at a mouthful by the first fox or kite that chanced to espy them.

At the first view I dare say you feel almost inclined to pity the

little animals doomed to exertions apparently so disproportioned

to their size. You are ready to exclaim that the pains of so short

an existence, engrossed with such arduous and incessant toil, must

far outweigh the pleasures. Yet the inference would be altogether

erroneous. What strikes us as wearisome toil, is to the little agents

delightful occupation. The kind Author of their being has associated

the performance of an essential duty with feelings evidently of the

most pleasurable description; and, like the affectionate father

whose love for his children sweetens the most painful labours, these

little insects are never more happy than when thus actively engaged.

"A bee," as Dr. Paley has well observed, "amongst the flowers in

spring, (when it is occupied without intermission in collecting

farina for its young or honey for its associates,) is one of the

cheerfullest objects that can be looked upon. Its life appears to be

all enjoyment: so busy and so pleased[670]."

Of the sources of exquisite gratification which every rural walk will

open to you, while witnessing in the animals themselves those marks of

affection for their unseen progeny of which I have endeavoured to give

you a slight sketch, it will be none of the least fertile to examine

the various and appropriate instruments with which insects have been

furnished for the effective execution of their labours. The young of

the saw-fly tribe (_Serrifera_[671]) are destined to feed upon the

leaves of rose-trees and various other plants. Upon the branches of

these the parent fly deposits her eggs in cells symmetrically arranged;

and the instrument with which she forms them is a saw, somewhat like

ours but far more ingenious and perfect, being toothed on each side,

or rather consisting of two distinct saws, with their backs (the teeth

or serratures of which are themselves often serrated, and the exterior

flat sides scored and toothed), which play alternately; and, while

their vertical effect is that of a saw, act laterally as a rasp. When

by this alternate motion the incision, or cell, is made, the two saws,

receding from each other, conduct the egg between them into it[672].

The _Cicada_, so celebrated by the poets of antiquity, which lays

its eggs in dry wood, requires a stronger instrument of a different

construction. Accordingly it is provided with an excellent double

auger, the sides of which play alternately and parallel to each other,

and bore a hole of the requisite depth in very hard substances without

ever being displaced.

The construction of the sting or ovipositor with which the different

species of Ichneumon are provided, is not less nicely adapted to its

various purposes. In those which lay their eggs in the bodies of

caterpillars that feed exposed on the leaves of plants it is short,

often in very large species not the eighth of an inch long: having

free access to their victims, a longer sting would have been useless.

But a considerable number oviposit in larvæ which lie concealed where

so short an instrument could not possibly approach them. In these,

therefore, the sting is proportionably elongated, so much so that in

some small species it is three or four times the length of the body.

Thus in _Pimpla Manifestator_, whose economy has been so pleasingly

illustrated by Mr. Marsham[673], and which attacks the larva of a

wild bee (_Chelostoma[674] maxillosa_) lying at the bottom of deep

holes in old wood, the sting is nearly two inches long[675]: and it

is not much shorter in the more minute _I. Strobilellæ_ L., which

lays its eggs in larvæ concealed in the interior of fir cones, which

without such an apparatus it would never be able to reach.

The tail of the females of many moths whose eggs require to be

protected from too severe a cold and too strong a light, is

furnished, evidently for application to this very purpose, with a

thick tuft of hair. But how shall the moth detach this non-conducting

material and arrange it upon her eggs? Her ovipositor is provided

at the end with an instrument resembling a pair of pincers, which

for this purpose are as good as hands. With these, having previously

deposited her eggs upon a leaf she pulls off her tuft of hairs, with

which she so closely envelops them as effectually to preserve them

of the required temperature: and having performed this last duty to

her progeny she expires.

The ovipositor of the capricorn beetles, an infinite host, is a

flattened retractile tube, of a hard substance, by means of which

it can introduce its eggs under the bark of timber, and so place

them where its progeny will find their appropriate food[676]. The

auger used by certain species of Œstrus, to enable them to penetrate

the hides of oxen or deer and form a nidus for their eggs, has been

before described[677].--But to enumerate all the varieties of these

instruments would be endless.

The purpose which in the insects above mentioned is answered by their

anal apparatus, is fulfilled in the numerous tribes of weevils by the

long slender snout with which their head is provided. It is with this

that _Balaninus Nucum_ pierces the shell of the nut, and the weevil

(_Calandra granaria_) the skin of the grains of wheat, in which they

respectively deposit their eggs, prudently introducing one only into

each nut or grain, which is sufficient, but not more than sufficient,

for the nourishment of the grub that will inhabit it.

II. Hitherto I have adverted to those insects only which perish

before their young come into existence, and can therefore evince

their affection for them in no other way than by placing the eggs

whence they are to spring in secure situations stored with food;

and these include by far the largest portion of the race. A very

considerable number, however, extend their cares much further: they

not only watch over their eggs after depositing them, but attend

upon their young, when excluded, with an affectionate assiduity equal

to any thing exhibited amongst the larger animals, and in the highest

degree interesting. Of this description are some solitary insects,

as several species of the Linnean genus Sphex, earwigs, field-bugs,

and spiders: and those insects which live in societies, namely, ants,

bees, wasps, and termites: the most striking traits of whose history

in these respects I shall endeavour to lay before you.

You have seen that the greater number of the _Sphecina_ after

depositing their eggs in cells stored with a supply of food,

take no further care of them. Some, however, adopt a different

procedure. One of these, called by Bonnet the _Mason-wasp_, but

different from Reaumur's, not only incloses a living caterpillar

along with its egg in the cell, which it carefully closes, but at

the expiration of a few days, when the young grub has appeared and

has consumed its provision, re-opens the nest, incloses a second

caterpillar, and again shuts the mouth: and this operation it repeats

until the young one has attained its full growth[678]. A similar

mode, according to Rolander, is followed by _Ammophila vulgaris_

as well as by the yellowish wasp of Pennsylvania, described by

Bartram in the _Philosophical Transactions_[679], and by another

related to _Mellinus arvensis_, observed by Duhamel[680]; both of

which, however, instead of caterpillars, supply their larvæ with a

periodical provision of living flies.

What a crowd of interesting reflections are these most singular

facts calculated to excite! With what foresight must the parent

insect be endowed, thus to be aware at what period her eggs will

be hatched into grubs, and how long the provision she has laid up

will suffice for their support! What an extent of judgement, thus

in the midst of various other occupations to know the precise day

when a repetition of her cares will be required! What an accuracy of

memory, to recollect with such precision the entrance to her cell,

which the most acute eye could not discover; and without compass

or direction unerringly to fly to it, often from a great distance

and after the most intricate and varied wanderings! If we refer the

whole to instinct, and to instinct doubtless it must in the main if

not wholly be referred, our admiration is not lessened. Instinct,

when simple and directed to one object, is less astonishing; but

such a complication of instincts, applied to actions so varied and

dissimilar, is beyond our conception. We can but wonder and adore!

We are indebted to De Geer for the history of a field-bug

(_Pentatoma grisea_), a species found in this country, which shows

marks of affection for her young such as I trust will lead you,

notwithstanding any repugnant association that the name may call up,

to search upon the birch tree, which it inhabits, for so interesting

an insect. The family of this field-bug consists of thirty or

forty young ones, which she conducts as a hen does her chickens.

She never leaves them; and as soon as she begins to move, all the

little ones closely follow, and whenever she stops assemble in a

cluster round her. De Geer having had occasion to cut a branch of

birch peopled with one of those families, the mother showed every

symptom of excessive uneasiness. In other circumstances such an alarm

would have caused her immediate flight; but now she never stirred

from her young, but kept beating her wings incessantly with a very

rapid motion, evidently for the purpose of protecting them from the

apprehended danger[681].--As far as our knowledge of the economy

of this tribe of insects extends, there is no other species that

manifests a similar attachment to its progeny; but such may probably

be discovered by future observers.

An Introduction to Entomology: Vol. 1 or Elements of the Natural History of the Insects · 第 26 / 38 段