Farther off, I observe a crowd of masons (ants) occupied in raising a

building of immense size for insects so diminutive; they neither employ

in its construction, like the bee, a valuable material which they have

themselves formed, nor a light and thin substance resembling the finest

pasteboard, such as that the wasp uses in the formation of its nest;

its mortar is already prepared, the earth, rain-water, and the benefit

of the sun, is all that is required in their masonry. The foundations

of a new story are laid, walls are raised, ceilings are constructed,

and their abode is arranged, with a view rather to convenience than

regularity.

Here I observe, proceed from the trunk of a tree, a file of ants; they

have hewn out in the solid wood vast chambers, a multitude of lodges

and stories, corridors and colonnades, to which the air has free access.

On removing to another country, I observe a certain species of ant,

availing itself of the down of a cotton-plant to shelter, more warmly

and commodiously, the little ones confided to its care. No insect,

indeed, presents such a variety in their dwellings; a particular talent

seems to be displayed in the labours of each, indicating to them the

nature and use of the several substances within reach.

Let us pass from their architecture to the cares they bestow upon the

rising generation. What a contrast is there not afforded between the

social insects, and those that lead a solitary existence; the latter

are, for the most part, unacquainted with their family; they provide

for their necessities, establish their dwelling, but very few will

see the egg to which they give birth. This affixes its eggs around a

branch; that trusts them to a fragile leaf; another abandons them

to the current of the waters: some place them in the sand, like the

ostrich, leaving them to be brought to perfection by the heat of the

sun; others, the isolated mothers, prepare themselves (before laying)

the food for the larvæ which will proceed from their eggs; some,

furnished with an instrument for this purpose, deposit them in the body

of a living fly, in the larvæ of other insects, or in the skin itself

of the larger animals; others, by means of a double saw, lodge them

in the bark of trees. These form subterraneous caverns, in which they

arrange caterpillars near their offspring, who, on quitting the egg,

find the food they require; others form a chamber in the earth, which

they adorn with rose and poppy-leaves: they prepare for the nourishment

of their young a paste, composed of honey and the pollen of plants;

they deposit their eggs; their task is finished; they die.

The greater number of solitary insects, guided by a blind instinct,

assure themselves of the existence of the succeeding generation,

but they do not live sufficiently long to see the developement of

their young; we cannot, therefore, refer their conduct to motives of

affection.

Those insects which live in society are devoted to the care of their

family; there reigns between them an intimate bond of union, from

which result relations that cannot exist among the former. What an

interesting scene is there not offered to us on viewing this hive of

bees, that nest of humble-bees, those wasps, and, particularly, these

ants. I see the humble-bee prepare a cell for its young, which it

partly fills with the food necessary for their preservation, under a

fear, perhaps, of not being able, alone, to satisfy their wants: if

their provisions are exhausted, the mother nourishes them herself; she

visits the flowers, and then returns to her nest, bestowing upon the

larvæ which are disclosed the most assiduous attention: she enlarges

their cell, and watches over their safety, until they become themselves

real workers, capable of assisting her in taking care of those to whom

she is about to give birth. A society is established between the mother

and her young: each day the circle of her relations is extended, and

the union is rendered more perfect.

Among bees, properly so called, an innumerable crowd of workers are

produced from a single mother. If, however, maternal feelings and the

delights of love are denied them, they do not the less evince their

affection and solicitude for the young of their common mother; they

nourish them, and defend them with a zeal and disinterestedness truly

praiseworthy.

The ants carry still further this devotedness for their charge: they

take care of and nurture them, even in the state of eggs, and give them

_mouth-provision_ in that of larvæ: when the latter are become pupæ,

they procure for them an agreeable temperature, and when they are

ready to undergo their transformation, these are the common parents,

who extricate them from their cocoons, taking care of them until they

are in a condition to fly, or discharge the duties to which they are

respectively called.

In consequence of these attentions to them in their infancy, there

arises a reciprocal affection between these insects. Hence the nature

of the society which we observe among them. Thus what principally

distinguishes them from those insects which live in solitude, is the

attention they bestow upon the education of their young.

But what a prodigy is that in nature, of being able to receive

advantage from sterility itself, to ensure the preservation of the

species; of inspiring the labourers with unbounded affection for the

offspring of another mother, and confiding to them the charge of their

education. The mother, too fecund to rear, unassisted, all her young,

finds in her society, a number of assistants, who take upon themselves

the several labours: these are endowed with the highest degree of

industry, activity, zeal, and courage: fecundity alone is denied them.

In what rests the secret of this organisation, incomplete as to sex,

perfect as to industry? Admirable combination of an incomprehensible

nature! It has been fully proved, that bees can, in time of need, elect

a queen from among the youngest larvæ; that the education, nourishment,

and size of the cell destined for her, give rise to her being endowed

with amazing fecundity, devoted to a state of repose, and receiving

the homages of a numerous republic. Had it, however, been reared, like

the other larvæ, it would have participated in the labours and dangers

which fall to the lot of the workers. Can we conceive how means so

simple should produce such powerful effects?

From such an institution arise those intimate and mutual relations,

those assiduities which the education of the young requires, that

assemblage of labours, that love for the country, that language, &c. we

so much admire in these colonies. Every where else, each female lives

separately. The only relations between solitary insects are occasioned

by difference of sex; but, regarding those who live in society, we

observe, a family more or less numerous, more or less powerful; all the

members of which, of whatever order they be, understand each other,

and yield mutual assistance; living, in common, upon the provision the

workers bring in. This constitution is one of the wonders of nature;

thus has she been pleased to establish several kinds of republics upon

the same principle.

Among bees and ants, a multitude of workers are born each year; but

in these republics there are but a small number of females. Let us

now attend to those astonishing circumstances with which their

impregnation is accompanied.

The mystery of the fecundation of the queen bee, has, from time

immemorial, excited the attention of naturalists; it has, therefore,

been the subject of the most profound researches; their respective

authors passing from error to error, from conjecture to conjecture,

came to doubt of the queen’s having sexual intercourse with the male.

It was reserved for a mind eminently endowed with all those qualities

which constitute the philosopher and naturalist, that penetration, that

logic, that extension of thought, so uncommon, of interrogating nature

by the organ of another[2], of, at length, decyphering those lines of

the great book, which contain the surprising phenomenon, of which bees

offer the only example.

[2] I rather think the author here alludes to the distressing state

of his father, who has, for many years, laboured under the greatest

of bodily privations--loss of sight. His ardour in the investigation

of his favourite subject, suffered no diminution. A faithful domestic

attended, and gave him information of what was passing in the interior

of his glass-hives.--T.

At this period we observe a vast number of males in the hives; they

quit them in a large body, and disperse. The young queen alone, without

followers, leaves her abode, goes forth to be impregnated in the air,

and returns to her numerous family, bringing back not only titles to

the consideration of her subjects, but the indisputable proof, that

the favoured male has lost his life in performing this last duty. A

thousand curious circumstances attend this brilliant discovery.

Shall we at present speak of the combat of the queens; of their

imprisonment; of the expulsion of the supernumeraries? Let us rather

leave to the reader the pleasure of learning these astonishing

truths in the original, and let us see what passes, under the same

circumstances, with ants. In this instance, the males and females are

distinguished from the unprolific race, by the faculty of flying. When

the day of their departure arrives, they quit the nest in a crowd,

accompanied by a numerous retinue of workers, who cannot follow them

to any distance. They take flight, complete their junction in the

midst of the swarms they form in the air, and never return to their

original abode. The males in a short time perish; for they know not

how to provide for their necessities; but the females are destined to

extend the republics of their species; they are, therefore, under the

necessity of going and establishing the foundations of them alone, and

unassisted. One would be inclined to believe that the wings, with which

they are provided, would be of advantage to them in their labours; but

Supreme Intelligence has ordered it otherwise; for as soon as they are

impregnated, they renounce that prerogative, which no longer agrees

with their new condition, and tear away of their own accord, and with

effect, those members which appear to us a gift from Heaven.

For what purpose has Nature required from them this sacrifice? Did she

wish, in this way, to render them more sedentary? Or was it not rather

in order to prevent their return to the natal ant-hill? This latter

conjecture seems to me the most plausible. What would have happened

did they possess the power of returning to their original family? That

the ant-hills would not have been scattered, that they would have

constituted but one immense habitation, which would soon have exhausted

the resources of its neighbourhood. This inconvenience would have

existed with bees, who do not reject their wings, had not that wisdom

which regulates the universe, guarded against it, by inspiring the

queens with mutual aversion and insurmountable dread of each other; so

much so, that the oldest quits her abode, and leads off with her a part

of her subjects, to found a new colony.

Humble-bees and wasps have not the power of re-assembling for the

purpose of forming one entire colony. Nature, without depriving them

of the use of their wings, guards against their abuse by dissolving

every year their republics.

What admirable variety in her productions, and in her laws! What

resources! With what care does she avoid repetition! It appears,

that every possible combination exists at the same time. There, the

republics are permanent; here, they are renewed every year. One of

these nations sends off, each year, several colonies, and the numerous

swarms go to tenant the woods and rocks; the other never divides; it

rests entire; allowing the departure of only a few individuals, who

go forth, separately, to found new societies. It was not sufficient

to multiply these societies, it was still necessary to provide for

their duration. These, then, are the means employed to sustain their

population, from age to age. In the case of bees, one single female

reigns over a numerous colony; her size, and especially her remarkable

fecundity, secure her the homage of her subjects. She keeps up the

population of the hive, and suffers none to dispute her authority.

However, at the period when she gives birth to males, the bees, who are

aware, perhaps, that she bears also the germs of females, prepare royal

cells: in these she deposits her eggs; and the larvæ, when disclosed,

become queens. The mother does not regard, without aversion, these

individuals, who may contend with her for pre-eminence: she endeavours

to destroy the objects of her anger; but the workers prevent her

reaching those cells which contain their forthcoming chiefs. The queen,

agitated with the fear of seeing them quit their cells, abandons the

hive, accompanied by a numerous colony, leaving behind her several

females destined to be her successors, who, after having disputed the

empire, or induced one part of the inhabitants to desert with them,

resign to one of their rivals, the sovereignty, or, at least, the

right of depositing her eggs alone, in the hive which witnessed their

birth.

A constitution, widely different, obtains with ants: several females

equally divide the important functions of procreation; they do not

evince that hatred, nor do we perceive any of that jealousy, of which

we have an example in bees; they also receive, in common, the homages

of the other casts. When the young females depart, for the purpose

of founding new states, the inhabitants of each city, endowed with

admirable prudence, retain some few to supply the place of those about

to terminate their career. It is thus the population of each republic

is sustained and increased.

The terms of Queens, of Subjects, of Constitution, of Republics, must

not be taken according to the strict letter. The unity or plurality

of females presents but a poor image of our different forms of

governments: in truth, each of these orders follows the laws of

its own instinct, without being conscious of any subordination; it,

notwithstanding, happens, that some few possess over the rest a certain

degree of influence, independent of any authority, properly so called.

The Termites, inhabitants of southern climates, also effect their union

in the air, fall upon the ground, and lose, as we are informed, their

wings. But who can teach us the secrets of their astonishing society?

why nature has produced amongst them four sorts of individuals?--one

single mother, who, when pregnant, becomes a hundred times more bulky

than at first; winged males; apterous neuters, appointed to the

household management, and the construction of their gigantic edifice;

and others, instructed only in the arts of war. Reaumur, De Geer,

Bonnet, &c. found without going any distance, subjects worthy of

exciting their attention. All our riches in this department have not

been yet explored. The wars of bees, already sung by a great poet,[3]

would furnish their historian with a rich and brilliant subject.

Hitherto, we have not been enabled to compare those in which ants

engage, to those of any other species of animals.

[3] _Vide_ Virgil’s Georgics, 4th Canto. These combats have been

described with great accuracy by the poet.--A.

If it be true, that war is one of the consequences of social order,

what shall we be induced to think, on perceiving regular armies issuing

from the gates of two rival cities, and going to the rencontre upon an

eminence, where battle is given, and where equal courage and carnage

are displayed on each side? What shall we say of those bodies of

troops, who only wait the signal of danger, to come to the assistance

of the advanced guard? of those champions, which struggle in pairs?

of those chains of wrestlers, who balance their strength, and seize

the favourable moment to destroy the equilibrium? of those prisoners

led away to the enemy’s camp, &c.? Is not this a strong image of our

serious quarrels?

But how strikingly does it contrast with our manners, that the arms,

courage, military skill, should, in these republics, rest with the

female sex[4]; whilst feebleness, idleness, and exile, fall to the lot

of the males. Those of bees, still worse treated, are put to death,

as soon as they have fulfilled their only functions. With wasps and

humble-bees, they are also destitute of arms, and show no industry; but

they are not the object of the fury of the workers: the severity of the

winter, as they know not, like the females, how to shelter themselves,

produces, generally speaking, their death. By what art are the workers

charged with the defence of the republic, enabled to reconnoitre,

understand, assist, and succour each other? The subtlety of their

senses, or rather that unbounded affection which exists between them

teaches them to distinguish, in their contests, their companions from

their enemies: a language, significant and extremely rapid, informs

them of the danger of their companions, or the success of their

enterprise. This language is the bond of that union, you remark in this

numerous family; it is not by sounds, or visible signs, but by contact

alone, that it is manifested, more particularly by the antennæ, those

organs which distinguish insects from all other living beings: these

serve, in those species collected in societies, the noble purpose

of communicating, from one individual to another, the impressions,

situation, and necessities of each: the antennal language is, without

doubt, imperfect, if we compare it with our wants, but amply suffices

for those of ants.

[4] It must be remembered that the workers are not neuters, but

females, whose moral, if I may use this expression, has been developed

at the expense of their physical condition.--A.

Bees also make use of signs, although they are no strangers to sounds.

When the queen wishes to lead away some part of the metropolis, to

found a new city, she passes from rank to rank, striking and exciting

each worker she meets, to accompany her: the movement is, at length,

general through the whole hive, and the swarm rush into the open air.

Should any strange animal, or insect, attempt to enter their abode,

the alarm is in an instant given, and a thousand lives are ready to be

sacrificed; but when their queen, as yet a prisoner, emits a shrill,

piercing cry, a general stupor immediately pervades the whole of the

bees, they all incline their head, and seem as if paralysed.

Wasps are also acquainted with the mode of imparting information to

their companions. When a single wasp discovers a strong-hold of sugar,

honey, or other article of food, it returns to its nest, and brings

off, in a short time, a hundred other wasps; but we are yet ignorant,

if it be by visible, or palpable signs, they are mutually informed of

this discovery.

It was in the nature of things, that all those beings living in

society, should have a language; but ants, who appear, in several

respects, to merit the pre-eminence over other insects, extend this

faculty even to the pucerons, from whom they obtain their nourishment.

The art, still more surprising, of rendering them domestic, has

nothing analagous in the other republics of which we have spoken: this

prerogative appears to touch upon the domain of man. But the Author

of all things has limited the power of these petty republics, in not

permitting them to make use of other arms than those with which they

are naturally provided; the inventive faculties have been denied them,

notwithstanding we have witnessed a few traits, which seem to announce

some species of combination. Their wants and their means have been

calculated beforehand, so that their instinct is not susceptible of

being brought to higher perfection.

In the number of those magnificent views of creation, which it is

permitted us to observe, we perceive man, so placed in the general

scale, that under the guidance of his own genius, and proud, perhaps,

of his brilliant faculties, he does not see any of those minute chains

by which he is surrounded. If delivered over, in some degree, to

himself, he sometimes meets in his institutions, and in his arts, with

the laws and proceedings nature has dictated to animals; it amounts

to a certain proof of his relation with disposing Intelligence: the

works of the latter, however, bear the impress of Infinite Wisdom, and

the conceptions of man, the seal of imperfection. In regarding those

colonies, which exist at our very feet, and where so much harmony

and order prevail, I think, I perceive the Author of nature, tracing

with his all-powerful hand, the laws of a republic exempt from abuse,

or framing the model of those compound societies, where servitude is

allied to a common interest.

The Author of nature has so willed it, that certain ants should

associate in their labours other workers of an industrious species,

upon whom is to devolve the office of rearing their young, and

providing their subsistence; whilst they themselves, abandoned to

warlike enterprise, and passing from a state of combat to one of ease,

are to enjoy the industry and share the affection and attention of

these strange ants. This institution, wisely combined, fulfils every

desirable condition. The slaves of the Amazons, carried away in their

infancy, perceiving no change in their country, attach themselves to

their captors, display their usual natural activity, and, unacquainted

with forced labours, and subject to no kind of oppression, have even,

as we have seen, a sufficiently extensive authority in the city which

has adopted them.

This great trait, in which is displayed unbounded wisdom, in calling

to our mind the abuses to which a similar institution is subject,

among several civilised nations, induces us to admire the mildness of

those laws, by which Providence rules these colonies, of which, she

has reserved to herself the entire direction; and shows us, that, in

delivering man to his own guidance, she has subjected him to a great

and heavy responsibility. If natural history had only served to prove

this truth, it would have attained the most dignified end of which

the sciences may boast--that of endeavouring to ameliorate the human

species, by the examples it lays before us.

APPENDIX.

NOTES

RELATIVE TO THE SPECIES.

The manners and habits of ants are so extremely varied, that it is

necessary to know, to what species we must refer each trait of their

industry,--each particular of their history.

With the view of distinguishing them more particularly, I have

transcribed several descriptions from Latreille; some extracted

from his Essay, upon the History of the Ants of France, “_Essai sur

l’Histoire des Fourmis de la France_;” others, from his Natural History

of Ants, “_Histoire Naturelle des Fourmis_.”

I feel proud in being able to add to this work the observations of my

esteemed friend and fellow citizen, Professor Jurine, so well known to

Naturalists, by his Memoirs upon Insects, “_Méthode nouvelle de classer

les Insectes_,” _&c._ and by his fine collection.

Not relying on my own judgment for a classification of ants, I

begged this gentleman would have the kindness to describe several

species, hitherto undescribed, concerning which it was necessary, more

particularly, to know the characters.

To these descriptions I shall add a few remarks, which my experience

has suggested.

DESCRIPTION

OF

THE SEVERAL ANTS

MENTIONED IN THESE RESEARCHES.

+The Herculean Ant.+

(_F. Herculanea_, Linn.)

W.[1]--Black. _Thorax_, base of the _abdomen_, _thighs_ of a

blood-red. _Length_, five to six lines.

F.--Black. Sides of the _thorax_, _scale_, base of the _abdomen_ of

a bay-red. _Superior wings_, entirely of a smoky black.

M.--Very black. _Superior wings_, smoky black. _Scale_, thick,

emarginate. _Tarsi_ and _knees_ ferruginous.

+Latreille+, _Essai sur l’Hist. des

Fourmis de la France_.

[1] The Males, Females, and Workers, are here designated by their

initial letters.

+The Ethiopian Ant.+

(_F. Nigra._)

W.--Elongate, very black, shining. _Mandibles_ and _legs_ of a

blackish brown. _Abdomen_ hairy. _Length_, three to five lines.

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