Glass _ Book. Sf it NATURAL HISTORY OF THE INSECTS MENTIONED IN SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS. W. L. Graves & Co. Printers, Lo do W¥ SIBL&IEESIPJSAIB2E . NATURAL HISTORY OF THE INSECTS MENTIONED IN SHAKSPEaRE'S PLAYS. H T Y [L.LITS T li A T ■ () X S. BY ROBERT PATTERSON, Ti'.K-iSI'i'.EK OF THE NATURAL, HISTORY SOCIETY OF BBLKAbT LONDON: A. K. NEWMAN & CO. LEAPENHALL STREET. 1842. PREFACE. It was my duty, in common with other members of the Natural History Society of Belfast, to furnish papers for some of those meetings in our Museum, held on what are termed " Public Nights." On these occasions ladies as well as gentlemen are admitted as visitors, and the reader abandons, in a great degree, the technicalities of science for " metal more attrac- tive." Several of these papers I had the honour of read- ing at various intervals between the 1st of March, 1832, and the 1st of January, 1836. They were then thrown into the epistolary form, in which they appear in the following pages ; and with the excep- tion of some verbal amendments, and the introduc- tion of some additional quotations, as the sheets were passing through the press, they are now printed as they were then arranged. This brief statement of the circumstances under which these "Letters" were written will, I trust, a 3 extenuate many of their imperfections. They were designed as the commencement of a series of illus- trations of the Natural History of Shakspeare's Plays. The attempt to blend the imagery of the Bard with the facts recorded by Science, has been made in the humble hope, that the worshippers of our Great Dramatist might be pleased to see another offering laid upon his shrine, and that the youthful lovers of Entomology might be attracted by the ex- hibitions of her charms, reflected in the bright ima- ginings of the Poet. All arrangements with respect to the illustrative woodcuts have been entrusted to the Publishers. Many of these they were enabled to give without adding to the expense of the work, and for others they are indebted to the pencil of Mr. G. F. Sar- geant, a young artist of taste and talent. To J. O. Westwood, Esq., the indefatigable Secretary of the London Entomological Society, my grateful acknow- ledgments are due for the nattering terms in which, both to myself and others, he expressed himself respecting the MS. of this little work, and encouraged me to venture on its publication. R. P. Belfast, 3, College Square North, 13th June, 1838. CONTENTS. LETTER I. INTRODUCTORY EPISTLE. Ennui occasionally experienced while residing in the country. Its cause. Originates in a defective system of educa- tion. Proper meaning of the term Naturalist. The legiti- mate ohjects of his inquiry. Periodical changes in the aspect of the external world. Pleasures which the study of Nature affords; mental effects of such pursuits. — Poetry and Natural History might " each give to each a double charm." Inquiry proposed with regard to the knowledge of Natural Phenomena, exhibited by some of our most admired Poets. Shakspeare "the Poet of Nature." Opinion of Dr. Johnson. Remark of the late John Tem- pleton, Esq. Shakspeare, in accurate observation, superior to Milton. Illustrative extracts from " Lycidas" and the " Winter's Tale." Number of the notices of natural ob- jects in the Dramatic Works of Shakspeare. Their in- vestigation, why interesting . . . page 1 LETTER II. ENTOMOLOGY RECOMMENDED. Solace which the study of Natural History affords to the man of business. The benefits it confers on the man possessed of leisure. The study of insects proposed. It should Vlll CONTENTS, not be deemed frivolous, because the objects are diminu- tive. They are a portion of the works of God. Their diversity and beauty. Peculiar advantage enjoyed by the Entomologist. Numbers of insects. Importance of a knowledge of their habits. Their destructive powers. Be- nefits they confer ..... page 13 LETTER III. LARVAE AND PUP.E. Advantages which may be. anticipated from the proposed in- quiry. Subject of the present Letter, — Insects in their early or imperfect states. Expression used by Hamlet, " If the sun breed maggots in a dead dog." Distinction between the vertebrate animals and insects. Destructive powers possessed by caterpillars ; frequently mentioned by Shakspeare. The pupa state. " There is a difference be- tween a grub and a butterfly." " The smirch'd moth- eaten tapestry." "The worm i' the bud ;" " the canker." Cocoon of the silk-worm; its value. "The worms were hallowed that did breed the silk." " An empty hazel nut." " The old grub." " Your worm is your only emperor for diet." Different meanings of the word " worm" in Shakspeare . . . . . . . 27 LETTER IV. ORAL APPARATUS. The structure of the mouth different in the several orders of insects. Destruction occasioned by a species of ant in Grenada, — by locusts. Advantage of the use of scientific terms. Difference of motion in the mouths of vertebrate CONTENTS. IX animals and those of insects. Structure of the mouth in the order Coleoptera. Sense in which the phrase " a per- fect mouth," is used. It consists of seven parts ; their names and uses. Palpi ; their supposed functions. Mouth of the Orthoptera, — of the Hymenoptera. Various pur- poses to which the mandihles are applied. Mechanism and use of the tongue in bees. The corolla sometimes pierced to obtain the honey. Simihes supplied by the butterfly and moth. Mouth of the Lepidoptera, — of the Diptera; " poor harmless fly," &c. Hemiptera ; meaning of the word " bug," in Shakspeare. Aphaniptera ; " a flea sticking upon Bartolph's nose." Aptera ; " the dozen white louses;" description by Swammerdam. Variety of mechanism exhibited in the varied formation of the several mouths now described . . . page 4 1 LETTER V. ORDER COLEOPTERA. 'The shard-borne beetle ;" description of its flight, by Collins, Gray, Hogg, and Shakspeare. Meanings of the word " shards." The Dor — Geotrupes stercorarius. Interest ex- cited by the Scaraoceus sacer; its habits. Extracts from Clarke and Denon. Representations of the insect found on unrolling mummies. Geotrvpes vernalis. Difference in the nidus of this beetle, and that of G. stercorarius. Time of the appearance of the latter. It feigns death. Similar procedure in a corn-crake. The Dor infested with para- sites ; plan adopted to get rid of them. Strength of the beetle. Illustrative extracts from Catesby's " Carolina," and Sir Walter Scott's " Peveril of the Peak." Numbers X CONTENTS. in which these insects sometimes appear. Their cleanli- ness. Study of them recommended . . page 63 LETTER VI. coleoptera (continued). The predacious beetles. Number and habits of the Carabidae - " The poor beetle that we tread upon ;" meaning of the passage. Prevailing ignorance of the variety observed among the insects known by the English name of beetles. Pleasures of meeting with the rarer species. They are found even in the most barren places. Birkie bog. The " tiger of the insect tribes." " The fiery glow-worm's eyes." Remarks of Dr. Johnson, Mason, and Douce, on those words. The " fire," why " uneffectual." Light of the male and female glow-worm ; description of its ap- pearance, by Kirby and Spence. The insect unknown in the north of Ireland. Its appearance on Ben Lomond" " Dost know this water-fly ? " What insect is here alluded to. Gyrinus found in a shell ; probable cause of its select- ing such a habitation 77 LETTER VII. ORTHOPTERA AND HOMOFTERA. The Grasshopper and Cricket. Poetical notices of the former. The cricket, "always harbinger of good." A prevalent opinion erroneous. Feelings associated with their chirp. " As merry as crickets." Their chirp noticed by Rogers, Cowper, Milton, Hogg, Shakspeare, &c. Vessel saved by the song of an insect of this order. Notes of the field cricket. Its sense of hearing ; illustrative extracts from CONTENTS. XI Hogg, &c. How the sound is produced. Grasshoppers, &c. used as food. The insect locust not mentioned by Shak- speare. Number of British species. Endurance of hun- ger by the cricket and the cockroach. Structure of the feet of the house-cricket. Origin of the cuckoo-spit. The Tettix of the ancients ; its powers of song. Verses addressed to the Cicada by Anacreon . . page 95 LETTER VIII. HYMENOPTERA. ■ The honey-bees." Bees said to be found in a dead body. The Queen-bee. Slaughter of the drones. Inaccuracy in Shakspeare and Milton. Humming of bees described by several British poets. The humble-bee. Hazlitt's re- mark on "the bag o' the bee." Wax; how secreted. Not collected by the bees, as stated by Shakspeare. Com- position of sealing wax. Honey ; mentioned both in a literal and a metaphorical sense. Structure of the combs. Sting of the bee. Practice of destroying bees to obtain the honey; described by Thomson. How it may be avoided. Homeward flight of bees. Why they frequent tho sea- coast. Prices paid for honey-comb. Bees of Hymettus. The bee in North America considered as a harbinger of the white man. Conduct of a colony of English bees when transported to Waterford. Wasps ; their rapacity. They are paper-makers. Nests of the native and of foreign species. Irritability of wasps. They "rob bee-hives." Punishment described by Autolycus. The Ant. Its wings; when laid aside. Described as " exceeding wise ;" and " provident of future." How the Xll CONTENTS. erroneous opinon, that it stores up food, originated. Beauti- ful description by Wordsworth. But once mentioned by Shakspeare. Its connection with the aphides. The honey-dew. Former opinions and present knowledge respecting its origin .... page 113 LETTER IX. LEPIDOPTERA. Beauty and variety of the insects belonging to this order Their "mealy wings." Universal diffusion. Found at all seasons. Ideas of the ancients respecting the butterfly. Notice of the insect by several British poets. Its pur- suit by boys. The brimstone butterfly. Vision in the silver-streak butterfly. Some species extremely local. Enumeration of those found in the neighbourhood of Belfast. Some " gilded butterflies" widely diffused. — Sphinxes found in this vicinity. The word " moth," how used by Shakspeare. Size of some species. Enumeration of the most conspicuous. The puss-moth ; injury it occa- sioned. Grass-moths taken by a bird. Night-flying in- sects attracted by a light. Leaf-mining caterpillars. The gratification derivable from trifling objects, a high re- commendation to the study of Entomology. Sensation in the Lepidoptera not analogous to that sense in man. Num- ber of eggs deposited by the ghost-moth . . 147 LETTER X. DIPTERA AND APHANIPTERA. Distinguishing characteristics of the Diptera. Flesh-flies ; their larvae or maggots. Utility of these flies. Their COXTEXTS. XU1 fecundity. Their changes of colour when first disclosed from the chrysalis. Their diffusion. The blue-bottle fly. Cruelty to insects reproved. Diminutive size of some of the Diptera. Their humming noticed by Wordsworth. Their aerial dances. Their number in summer. Some observed in winter. Clouds of flies in January, 1836. Multitudes on grass. The fly used as an object of com- parison by the poets. Mentioned in the Classics. An- noyance it occasions. Italian mode of excluding the house-fly. Common gnat {Culex pipiens) supposed to be identical with the mosquito. The mosquito found in all parts of the world. Torment occasioned by it. "The Brize" (QZstrus bovis). Sufferings endured from it by cattle. Noticed by Virgil. " Bots." " Begnawn with the bots." Disputed identity of the Oistros of the an- cients with the CEstrus of Linnaeus. " Flies at St. Bartho- lomew-tide, blind though they have their eyes ;" mean- ing of the passage. Examples of the frequent mention of the flea by Shakspeare .... page 175 LETTER XI. ARACHNOIDA. Spiders not classed with insects. Their peculiar structure. Variety of modes in which they capture their prey. " The labouring spider." " Bottled spider." Fragility of the thread. Its complicated structure. Used as a styptic and a soporific. Web of the house and garden spiders. — Shakspeare aware of the different habits of some tribes. "Long-legged spinners." Poison possessed by spiders. Affection of the female spider for her young. The gos- samer mentioned by Spencer and Thomson erroneously. XIV CONTENTS. Introduced by Shakspeare and Hogg. Theories respecting its emission. Is found at all seasons. Verses suggested by its appearance when covered with hoar-frost page 207 LETTER XII. CONCLUDING EPISTLE. Notices of some insects not mentioned by Shakspeare. The Ichneumonidae ; their opposition and importance. Dragon- flies. Their rapacious habits. Poetical notice of them as Damsel flies. Attracted by peculiar colours. Habitats of two species mentioned. Number of lenses in the eye. Mask of the larva. Descent of the parent fly into the water, when about to deposit her eggs. Analogous fact observed in a species of Phryganea. Caddis-worms. Variety of material employed in the structure of then- cases. Shells thus employed. Ingenious defence ; sub- stitute for the usual grating. The great water-beetle {Dytieus marginalis). Its flight, and its food. The water- scorpion {Nepa cinerea). The boat-fly (Notonecta glauca). Hydrometridae. Entomology makes every pool of water attractive. Appearance of insects at irregular intervals. One example of this furnished by a moth (Plusiafestucee). Numbers of a gnat (Chironomus virescens), in 1832. Of the cockchafer (Melolontha vulgaris) in 1835. Its ravages in 1688. Failure of parsley in 1830-31 ; its growth in 1832. Recognition of certain insects in unexpected situations. Examples — Pentatoma rufipes in Belfast ; Cossomcs Tardii at Cranmore ; a burying beetle (Necro- phorus mortuorum) on a high mountain. Mutual depend- ence of the sciences on each other. Conclusion . 225 CONTEXTS. XV APPENDIX. INJURIES OCCASIONED BY INSECTS IN DIFFERENT PARTS OF IRELAND. Tipula tritici destructive to wheat ; C. bicolor to the Veronica chamcedrys. Apple-tree grafts destroyed by Otiorhynchus nota- tus, and flowers by 0. vastator and ligustici. The wire-worm injurious to grass. Crop of flax nearly destroyed by Haltica paroula, in county Down. Defoliation of trees by a caterpillar in "Wicklow. Trees destroyed by the goat-moth (Cosms liyni- perda) near Portarlington. Ravages of various species of Yponomeuta. Clover and grass injured by the larvae of the Tipula. The gooseberry saw-fly (Nemalus ribesii) . page 257 The bounteous bus-wife, nature, on each bush LavB her full me3s before you." TIMON OP ATHENS, AOT TV. Your letter, my dear Arnold, lias been received. It is but two months since you wrote to me of your arrival at your new* habitation — the kindness of your reception, the dehghtful situation of the village, and the hospitality of your future parishioners ; but a change seems to have passed over your spirit, to have " overcome " you "like a summer cloud," and has excited, I must confess, my " special wonder." You do not write in that tone which bespeaks a healthy ac- 2 ENNUI AND ITS ORIGIN. tivity of mind and body. A little querulousness (you must excuse the expression) is now and then apparent; and you resemble the mariner who sighs to exchange the apathy of the calm, for the excitement of the gale, or even the perils of the storm. This seemed to me " passing strange ;" but one phrase in your letter has enabled me to solve the enigma. While pursuing your studies in the house, you appear happy — while there you find your library " a dukedom large enough " — while executing those missions of " peace and good will to man " which the exercise of your profession requires, you are all I could wish my friend to be ; but when you tell me that there are moments in your rambles in which you are tempted to envy the activity of the husbandman, or the ardour of the sportsman, I strongly suspect the mind is in some degree " dis- eased;" something is wanting, and that something seems to be simply this : The husbandman takes a deep interest in the fluctuations of the weather, and the revolutions of the seasons. " The seed-time and harvest" are indicated by a thousand circumstances, which he is prompt to notice ; these modify his labour and influence its result. The sportsman, in like man- ner, finds his interest aroused by a thousand varying phenomena: the mildness, or the severity of the winter; a late or an early spring ; a dry or rainy summer, all produce certain results upon the objects of his pursuit, THE HUSBANDMAN AND SPORTSMAN. 3 and require a corresponding variation in his procedure. The piercing note of the wild swan, high in the frosty- heavens, and the " booming " of the bittern from the " sedgy shallow," arouse his attention and awaken his destructive energies to action. Husbandman and sportsman are alike in one respect, — they both take a deep and active interest in some of the phenomena of nature ; but by these phenomena you are compara- tively unmoved. They do not furnish tou with employment. You pay a passing tribute to the chaste beauty of the snowdrop, or to the matin song of the sky-lark, and pursue your path without that degree of interest being excited, which suggests something to be done, some difficulty to be surmounted, or some information to be acquired. You observe them, but they do not influence your pursuits — you see them, but you seek not to investigate the mechanism of the one, or the habits of the other. I do believe, that if the true cause of your dis- satisfaction were explored, it would be found to spring from what I consider a radical error in the system of education pursued in our universities. You have passed through the usual course with honour — you have on many occasions won " golden opinions from all sorts of people," and yet I do venture to assert that the defects in this very course of educa- tion, are the primary causes of your present discon- b 2 4 DEFECTS OF EDUCATION. tent. Take one of those graduates who have been most distinguished ; ask him concerning an event in the ancient history of the world, the translation of an admired passage in Anacreon, or the connection of classic fable and historic truth, and in all probability your questions will be answered. Inquire how the knowledge of mathematics gives new views of the sublime science of astronomy, and you will receive the information you demand. Request an exposition of some particular theory in metaphysics, and your desire may still be gratified. But ask the same student to describe the functions or uses of some common plant, or insect, — one which he sees every day, with which he has been familiar from childhood, and he will be unable to answer, nay, most likely, unable to tell its name. This is the radical error in university education. Its votaries are conversant with books, not with nature ; or, as it has been quaintly expressed, " they view nature through the spectacles of books." With the works which form the most lasting monuments of the talents of man, they are familiar ; of those nobler works which bear the visible impress of the Deity, they are profoundly ignorant. I have no desire that you should become either a farmer or a sportsman ; but with your mental powers and habits of observation, I should rejoice, indeed, THE NATURALIST. O to see you become a naturalist ; not one of that kind who suppose a knowledge of nature to consist in a knowledge of the terms which have been applied to her works, or of the sections into which they have been divided ; but one who studies the things them- selves, and gives to classification its proper functions, namely, that of designating correctly the individual objects of his inquiry. Such a man will not look with wonder on any thing that is strange, merely because to him it is new or uncommon, neither will he regard with indifference things which are equally wonderful, because he sees them daily around him. This is not the fitting disposition of a naturalist, nor is its indulgence calculated to bring home the love of nature to the thoughts and affections of men, or furnish that series of pleasurable emotions, which the proper knowledge of the objects by which we are surrounded would so incessantly afford. In its true and legitimate exercise, the knowledge of natural history unveils to its votary " gems hidden from the world beside," and even her wildest and most uncultivated scenes — " The desert, forest, cavern, breaker's foam, Are unto him companionship." To any man, but more especially to one of your profession, the mental effects of such pursuits are of the very highest importance, and I am glad, on this point, to fortify my own opinion by the words of 6 OBJECTS OF INQUIRY. Archdeacon Paley : — " In a moral view I shall not, I believe, be contradicted when I say, that if one train of thinking be more desirable than another, it is that which regards the phenomena of nature with a constant reference to a supreme, intelligent author." Nor can the study be considered as unworthy of our notice, when we are told of Solomon, that he "spake of trees, from the cedar tree that is in Lebanon, even unto the hyssop that springeth out of the wall ; he spake also of beasts, and of fowl, and of creeping things, and of fishes." Prior, however, to the study of these details, our attention must be directed, and to a certain extent it is irresistibly impelled, to the contemplation of the periodical changes which the aspect of the external world is ever undergoing. " the seasons come, And pass like shadows to their viewless home, And come again, and vanish." Each of them exhibits distinct and characteristic features, and brings attractions and motives for exer- tion peculiarly its own. And these changes are not confined to inanimate nature ; for to a reflective mind, which scans with attention these evanescent trains of thought and feeling, it is interesting to remark how very different the same man is at different seasons. For instance, your ideas of pleasure in December and PLEASURE OF THE STUDY. 1 June are no doubt as completely distinct, nay, as much contrasted, as would be those of different individuals living in distant regions. Should any one doubt this, let him compare his emotions during a morning walk in spring with those in a summer noon, when he stretches "his listless length" under some "■ nodding beech," or with those he experiences when he draws his chair closer to the fire on Christmas eve. To this fertile field for observation, I solicit your attention : it has one advantage over most other subjects of inquiry, that you have ever the materials for its prosecution within you and around you. The pursuit I more especially recommend, namely, the study of Natural History, in its widest signification, would, I am persuaded, be to you, my dear Arnold, a source of gratification, " ever charming," yet " ever new." But I will candidly own I am not altogether disinterested, and that I am anxious to procure your co-operation and assistance in a project which I yet hope to accomplish. I am anxious to ascertain if poetry and natural history might not " each give to each a double charm " — if poetry might not lend " thoughts that breathe, and words that burn," to declare the wonders that natural history unfolds. Reality, in this case, is more wonderful than fiction ; yet the reality is not brought home to the minds and hearts of men, as it would be if arrayed in the glowing garb of 8 THE POETRY OF NATURE. poetry : a fact, when "married to immortal verse," would be "one entire and perfect chrysolite," and remain for ever in the mind, " unmixed with baser matter. "And what would poetry not gain, if access were afforded to this new and almost unopened mine ? The riches of the garden of Aladdin would fade before the splendour of her new dominions. Besides, you must recollect, that poetry is so pleasing a vehicle for the expression of thought; so fascinating a medium for the inculcation of a particular feeling or idea, that it becomes a most powerful agent either in dis- seminating truth, or in perpetuating falsehood. How very desirable would it be if every poet were at the same time a naturalist. Many depict, and depict most truly, some of the attractive objects which Na- ture, as if to win us to herself, has placed on our right hand and on our left ; but seldom have they done so without an intermixture of error, and too often do we find that fancy takes the place of observa- tion. It would become, therefore, a curious and pleasing subject of inquiry to ascertain to what ex- tent one of our most admired poets had faithfully arrayed in the rich garniture of his verse, the pheno- mena which he himself had seen, or how far he had preserved there the errors of preceding writers. This inquiry prompted me to read again the plays of Shakspeare. I read them, however, not to SHAKSPEARE " THE POET OF NATURE. 9 analyze one of the characters, to criticise the struc- ture, or unfold the beauties of a drama, but to ascer- tain what notices of natural objects they con- tained. I may, perhaps, have been influenced in my selection of Shakspeare's Works by the opinion which Dr. Johnson has expressed in his celebrated preface. After applying to Shakspeare the epithet of " the Poet of Nature," he remarks, " His attention was not confined to the actions of men ; he was an exact surveyor of the inanimate world ; his descrip- tions have always some peculiarity, gathered by con- templating things as they really exist ; whether life or nature be his subject, Shakspeare shows plainly that he has seen with his own eyes. He gives the image which he receives, not weakened or distorted by the intervention of any other mind ; the ignorant feel his representations to be just, and the learned see that they are complete." But I was still more guided in my choice by the testimony of my friend the late John Templeton, Esq., that " the works of Shakspeare evince a surprising power of accurate observation," and he added, although I may not quote his words correctly, " that while Milton and the other poets had strung together in their descrip- tions the blossoms of spring and the flowers of sum- mer, Shakspeare has placed in one group those only which may be found in bloom at the same time. 10 ILLUSTRATIVE EXTRACTS. His defects are those of the age in which he lived ; the beauty and truth of his pictures are his own." To show the justness of this remark, only look at the enumeration of flowers in Milton's Lycidas, and that of Shakspeare in the Winter's Tale. In the former we have, among " vernal flowers," many of those which are the offspring of Midsummer. The musk-rose, the woodbine, and the amaranthus of a still more advanced season, are grouped with the daffodil, the primrose, and the violet of early spring. * Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies, The tufted crow-toe, and pale jessamine, The white pink, and the pansy freak'd with jet, The glowing violet, The musk-rose, and the well attired woodbine, "With cowslips wan, that hang the pensive head, And every flower that sad embroidery wears ; Bid amaranthus all his beauty shed, And daffodillies fill their cups with tears, To strew the laureat hearse where Lycid lies." In the Winter's Tale, Perdita presents the " flowers of winter, rosemary and rue," to her reverend guests ; " to men of middle age," are given the " flowers of middle summer." " Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram, The marigold, that goes to bed with the sun, And with him rises weeping." — Act IV. Sc. 3. When she addresses her " fairest friend," her words are " I would I had some flowers o' the spring, that might Become your time of day ! " NATURAL OBJECTS NOTICED. 11 and "yours and yours," she continues, as she ad- dresses those of a more advanced age ; and in her invocation " O Proserpina For the flowers now, that, frighted, thou let'st fall From Dis's waggon "— she retains the same order, beginning with the daffo- dil, and ending with the fleur-de-lis : " daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty— violets, dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes, Or Cytherea's breath ; pale primroses, That die unmarried ere they can behold Bright Phoebus in his strength, a malady Most incident to maids ; bold oxslips, and The crown imperial ; lilies of all kinds, The fleur-de-lis being one !" I was thus led to examine the plays of Shakspeare with respect to the notices of natural objects which they contain, and I soon found that these notices were much more numerous than I had expected. I transcribed the passages containing them, under the several heads which naturalists have adopted in their classifications, and found, to my surprise, that they occupied one hundred closely written pages of letter paper. Of these, twenty-two pages related to the mammalia ; sixteen to birds ; nine to reptiles and fishes ; two to shells and minerals ; nine to insects ; thirteen to trees, flowers, and fruits ; and twenty- 12 MATERIALS FOR INVESTIGATION. nine to those ever-varying features, which mark the progress of the seasons, or depict some of the count- less phenomena of nature. What ample materials for investigation those extracts would afford ! and their elucidation would be highly interesting, for it would place in juxta-position the state of natural science now, and at the vaunted era of Queen Elizabeth. In my next letter, I shall mention to which of its several branches I wish first to call your attention, and lay before you some of the advantages arising from the pursuit. • In Nature's infinite book of secrecy A little I can read." ANTOiJZ AND CLEOPATRA, ACT I. SC I must apologize, my dear friend, for having al- lowed some days to elapse without resuming the subject introduced in my last letter ; but the avoca- tions of business will occasionally interpose, in the performance of many of the offices of friendship. Occupied as I at present am, it is but seldom that I can snatch a few consecutive hours, to pay my homage to literature or to science. Trifling as my acquisitions in either may be, they are still sufficient 14 THE STUDY OF NATURE PROPOSED. to keep alive the taste for both ; and, consequently, if future years should bring with them a larger portion of leisure, I hope and trust they will be unaccompanied with that tcedium, vita, which too often destroys the anticipated happiness of the man of business. The object of my attention, in those hours which are stolen from the bustle of the world, has of late been natural history ; and I can safely affirm that it has afforded a tranquillising, contented, and invigorating spirit, when both mind and body have been fatigued with the unremitting exertions which business occasionally demands. To you, who want occupation, the study would produce a different, but equally beneficial result. It would stimulate to activity faculties which now lie dormant, and rouse to pleasurable exertion, powers which languish for want of a proper stimulus. The particular branch of natural history to which I have lately given my attention, has been that which treats of the various tribes of insects ; or, to use a more concise and more scientific expression, Entomology. My progress has not been so considerable as to give me that knowledge of specific distinctions, which one who lays claim to the title of an entomologist should possess ; but it has been sufficient to teach me the principal divisions of the science, and to make me acquainted with the most obvious peculiarities in ENTOMOLOGY. 15 habit, by which many insect tribes are distinguished. I have, I must own, been more anxious to learn something of their habits, than of their classification ; and although I have commenced forming a small collection to illustrate the latter, I value it only as serving to elucidate the former. You will see from this statement, that I am a lover of entomology, rather than an entomologist. Humble as this appel- lation may be, it is one which I must for, perhaps, a considerable time, be contented to retain. Its low- liness has not, however, prevented me from enjoying many pleasing trains of thought, excited by the pursuit — many happy feelings of novelty and wonder ; and at all seasons the study has furnished me with something for observation. I am most anxious, therefore, my dear Arnold, that the pleasure I have felt, you should experience ; and although I may be a guide very imperfectly acquainted with the paths I propose to traverse, I shall be delighted to point out to you the most important landmarks, and indicate the existence of wild glens and retiring valleys which you may yourself explore. We are all too apt to associate ideas of importance with the possession of corporeal bulk, and to regard as trifling all those animals which are diminutive in size. This may be one reason why the study of entomology is comparatively of modern date ; for, so 16 IMPORTANCE OF THE SUBJECT. strong and so general is this prejudice, that he who devoted his days to observing the habits and economy of insects, would have been regarded as a Weak and frivolous mortal — as a busy and unprofitable idler, and unworthy to rank with men who were engaged in more bustling occupations. A wiser and more philosophical spirit has now arisen, and anything, however minute, which God has been pleased to create, is no longer deemed unworthy of man to study. " The beauties of the wilderness are His," and the leafy monarch of the forest, the lowly and fragile flower, the leviathan with his plated mail, and each tiny wing that flutters in the sunbeam, are but so many varied manifestations of the same Almighty Power. To you, therefore, the study of insects will have many attractions, for few are better calculated than yourself " To trace in nature's most minute design The signature and stamp of power divine ; The shapely limb, and lubricated joint, Within the small dimensions of a point; " and to feel the justice of Burke's observation, that we cannot, in the effect on the mind, distinguish the extreme of littleness from the vast itself. As, how- ever, the state of mind which the feeling of surprise creates, or the sense of the sublime occasions, is in its very nature transitory, though delightful, I would FORM AND COLOUR OF INSECTS. 17 not, on the present occasion, lay much stress upon this recommendation. I would rather allow the study to win you to itself, by the permanence of the agreeable ideas it is calculated to excite. One source of these ideas is the form and the colouring of insects : and any one who attempts to describe such characteristics, may exclaim, as Thomson has done of the flowers of spring, " Oh ! what can language do ! " Kirby and Spence, with that enthusiasm which their knowledge of the subject both creates and justifies, remark, " To these, her valued miniatures, Nature has given the most delicate touch and highest finish of her pencil. Numbers she has armed with glittering mail, which reflects a lustre like that of burnished metals ; in others she lights up the dazzling radiance of polished gems. Some she has decked with what looks like liquid drops or plates of gold or silver, or with scales or pile, which mimic the colour and emit the ray of the same precious metals." "Their colours also are not evanescent and fugi- tive, but fixed and durable, surviving their subject, and -adorning it as much after death as they did when it was alive." In this respect the Entomologist possesses an advantage over most of his brother natu- 18 ADVANTAGES OF THE STUDY. ralists. The loveliest rose that ever unfolded her petals to the skies of June, the sweetest violet that ever yielded her fragrance to the wooing breath of April, are alike reft of their beauty, when transferred to the hortus siccus of the botanist. The ornitholo- gist may obtain for his herons, his swans, and his falcons, their respective attitudes, but he must do so at considerable cost, and requires a range of apart- ments for their display and classification. The speci- mens of the mineralogist are frequently of consider- able bulk and weight, and require a corresponding space for their arrangement. The Entomologist, on the contrary, can, in a single drawer of moderate dimensions, preserve hundreds of insects, with all the colouring and attitudes of life. Yet it is not because of their colours, though rich ; or their forms, though varied ; or both, though beautiful, that I recommend them to your notice. As beings endued with life, they bave higher claims on your attention. Morning, noon, evening, and night, has each its own race of happy insects ; they flit m the warm sunbeam of summer, and desert not the icy mantle of winter. Another reason why some attention should be given to the study of insects, is the greatness of their numbers, compared with that of the other tribes of animated beings. The mammalia, birds, fishes, and reptiles, at present known, and the mollusca, NUMBER OF SPECIES. 19 zoophytes, and microscopic animalcules, described by naturalists, amount altogether to about twenty- five thousand species. The Count Dejean has cata- logued more than twenty thousand coleopterous in- sects alone. Stephens describes ten thousand British species ; and those now arranged and named in the Royal Cabinet, at Paris, amount of themselves to above twenty-seven thousand,* a number greater than all the other varieties of animal life, taken together, with which we are at present acquainted. If to this were added those which the collection at Paris does not possess, but which other cabinets contain, those named in manuscripts scattered through different countries in Europe, and the new genera which are daily made known to us, both in the east and in the west ; the number of species already known could not be less than fifty thousand ! But this number, great as it may appear, is trifling compared with the myriads with which we are as yet unacquainted, but whose existence is rendered more than probable by the tribes which the accurate investigation of any district, however limited, is continually unfolding to our view. Kirby and Spence, in their admirable " Introduction to Entomology," * This estimate of the number of known species was made some years ago, when the letters were first written : the numbers have been greatly increased during the last few years. c 2 20 DESTRUCTIVE POWERS OF INSECTS. agree with Mr. M'Leay in calculating the existing number of species at four hundred thousand ! * Even here the treasures of the Entomologist are not exhausted. The geologist finds in shale the im- pressions of insects, stamped on the yielding surface of the mineral, and there presenting their correct and enduring portraiture. In amber he discovers insects in the very attitudes of life, and of species which have long since become extinct. These repre- sentatives of a former insect world are to the Ento- mologist what the skeletons and ornaments of Pompeii would be to the antiquarian, or fossil fishes to the ichthyologist. They are the records of another era, unfolded for our study. We must recollect also, that an accurate knowledge of the habits and economy of insects is of considerable importance to the comfort, and to the security of man. Though each may individually be regarded as insignificant, their numbers compensate for their di- minutive size, and thus banded together, they become absolutely irresistible. "Wilson, in his " American Ornithology," says, " Would it be believed that the larvae of an insect or fly, no larger than a grain of rice, should silently and in one season destroy some thousand acres of pine trees, many of them from two to three feet in diameter, and a hundred and fifty * Introduction to Entomology, vol. iv. p. 476. DESTRUCTIVE POWERS OF INSECTS. 21 feet in height ? In some places the whole woods, as far as you can see around you, are dead ; — stripped of their bark, their wintry-looking arms and bare trunks bleaching in the sun, and tumbling in ruins before every blast." In tropical countries the white Queen of the White Ant in the winged state, and filled with eggs. ants are so voracious that, according to Smeathman, " the total destruction of deserted towns is so effectually completed, that in two or three years a thick wood fills the space." Humboldt states that, as they devour paper and parchment, many provinces of Spanish America cannot in consequence shew a written document of a hundred years' existence, and he justly inquires, " What developement can the civilization of a people assume, if there be nothing to connect the present with the past, — if the de- 22 DEVASTATIONS OF THE APHIDES. positories of human knowledge must be constantly- renewed, — if the monuments of human genius and wisdom cannot be transmitted to posterity." The very name of the locust calls up ideas of desolation and famine. " The land is as the garden of Eden before them, and behind them a desolate wilderness." From this awful pest we are in this country happily free, but we are exposed to the attacks of many- others, which, at times, are scarcely less formidable. The turnip fly and the wire-worm have often ren- Turnip Fly. dered vain the hopes and the labours of the farmer. Crops of grain have been destroyed, fruit trees blighted, and plantations overthrown, by other tribes of these Lilliputian devastators. One of the Aphi- des appears occasionally in such multitudes, that Thomson has thus introduced it into his description of the phenomena of spring ;— " For oft, engender'd by the hazy North, Myriads on myriads, insect armies warp BENEFITS CONFERRED BY INSECTS. 23 Keen in the poison'd breeze ; and wasteful eat, Through buds and bark, into the blacken'd core, Their eager way. A feeble race ! yet oft The sacred sons of vengeance, on whose course Corrosive Famine waits, and kills the year." With the exception of their not being " engendered by the hazy North," but produced, like all other insects, from eggs previously deposited, the descrip- tion of the poet is perfectly correct. A writer in the Entomological Magazine, (No. iii. p. 221,) con- cludes an account of the habits of another species of insect, the Aphis hamuli, one which preys upon the hop plant, in the following words: — "From this it will appear that in duty alone, a little insignificant looking fly has a control over four hundred and fifty thousand pounds annual income to the British Treasuiy ; and, supposing the hop grounds of Eng- land capable of paying this duty annually, which they certainly are, it is very manifest that, in 1825, these creatures were the means of robbing the Treasury of four hundred and twenty-six thousand pounds." The advantages which insects produce are, how- ever, more important than the injuries they occasion. To multitudes of our "little trooping birds" they supply food, and that to an extent that no one would at first suppose possible ; for it has been calculated, that a single pair of sparrows having young to main- 24 BENEFITS CONFERRED BY INSECTS. tain, will destroy three thousand three hundred and sixty caterpillars in a week. To fishes they are of equal importance, as I had myself on one occasion an opportunity of observing, at Lough Beg, a small lake through which the river Bann flows in its course to the sea. As we were crossing in a boat from the main land to Church Island, the spot where the celebrated Jeremy Taylor penned many of his most eloquent productions, a sudden gust of wind arose, accompanied by heavy rain, and precipitated into the water multitudes of the day- fly {Ephemera vulgata), which had been sporting over Larva, Pupa, and Imago of Ephemera vulgata. the lake. So great was their number, that as we rowed rapidly forward, we could not, for the space of fifteen minutes, during which we were every instant changing our position, discover two square ADVANTAGES TO MAN. 25 feet on the surface of the water, on which there was not at least one of these flies, and not unfrequently there were eight, ten, or twelve, in that extent of superficies. On a subsequent occasion, I noticed a mass of two-winged flies {Tipulidcs, fyc), some inches Cecidomyia destructor, and tritici, with Larva, all feeding. in thickness, cast upon the beach of Lough Weagh, not far from the town of Antrim. To " man, proud man," they bring rich and numerous offerings. The gall of the oak, which, Oak Apple, Gall, and CytiijK quercus folii. when converted into ink, " speeds the soft intercourse 26 ADVANTAGES OF THE STUDY. from pole to pole," and allows the philosopher to transmit his discoveries to future ages, is only the production of an insect. Honey, which from the earliest times has been the emblem of all that is most grateful to the palate, is another tribute from the insect world. The bright dye of the cochineal is supplied by an insect ; and silk, the use of which is still more widely diffused, is, perhaps, the most ex- traordinary existing example, of the benefits derived by man from the labours of the insect tribes. I hope enough has now been adduced to show that the study of Entomology should not, by any reflective mind, be regarded as frivolous or degrading, and that if we would either derive advantage or escape injury from insects, a knowledge of their habits and economy is alike indispensable. * >1 ■ Hast thou the pretty worm of Nilus there. That kills and pains not ? " iSTOBI AND CLEOPATKA, AOT V. t I shall now, my dear Arnold, in this and in my subsequent letters, bring before you some of the par- ticulars relative to the natural history of those insects mentioned in Shakspeare's plays. From the writings of eminent entomologists, or from extracts from works which are not generally accessible to the inhabitants of a provincial town, I have at various times received much of the information they may contain. In some instances I have copied in my note book the passage in which any remarkable fact was embodied. These 28 THE SUBJECT PROPOSED. extracts are not numerous, and as they may perhaps prove interesting, I shall be glad to transmit them to you in the words of their respective authors. It has sometimes been in my power to verify those state- ments by my own observations, and occasionally, although very rarely, to add something to the know- ledge they convey ; but my great object will be to point out how the remarks of the Poet are borne out by the discoveries of modern science. If these letters induce you to examine the facts for yourself, and to fill up those blanks which I shall occasionally indicate, I shall rejoice at having been the humble instrument of " a consummation" so " devoutly to be wished." Should the important avocation in which we are both engaged permit us to enter together on the natural history of the quadru- peds, the birds, or the plants which Shakspeare has dignified by his magic touch, it would be delightful to reciprocate with each other the information we might respectively obtain, and communicate our ob- servations on a subject of common interest to both. But I must own that "the wish is father to that thought," for, situated as I am, it is scarcely pos- sible for me to take a fair proportion of the exer- tion necessary for such an object. You, however, are so differently circumstanced, that you may hope to effect that, which I am able only to desire. Of shakspeare's natural history. 29 two things I am quite certain — that a knowledge of the Natural History of Shakspeare's Plays would increase the pleasure we all experience in reading those unrivalled productions ; and that to the in- quirer, the pursuit would be replete with interest. He would tread a path of softest verdure ; he would behold a brighter sky , he would breathe a more balmy atmosphere, and might well say, like Caliban, while escorting the mariners under the unseen guidance of Ariel, [ Tlie isle is full of noises, Sounds, and sweet airs ; that give delight, and hurt not." Tempest, Act III. Sc. II. That the subject on which I am now about to enter may be proceeded with in regular order, it is better " to begin with the beginning :" I shall, therefore, in my present letter, confine myself to some observations on insects, in their imperfect or immature state. We find that the Prince of Denmark, the reflective and philosophical Hamlet, employs on one occasion the words, " If the sun breeds maggots in a dead dog," {Act I. Scene II.) ; and he uses them in a man- ner that shows he did not question the truth of the position. Let it not surprise you, that a prince of mental powers sufficient to descant upon "this goodly frame the earth," and to utter the sublime apostrophe, " What a piece of work is man !" should adopt an opinion so erroneous. It was the universal 30 TRANSFORMATIONS OF INSECTS. belief of the age in which Shakspeare lived ; and it was not until near the conclusion of the sixteenth century, that it was proved by the experiments of Redi to be utterly groundless. This forms one example of the progress of human knowledge in destroying " that labyrinth of idle fancies and unsup- ported fables, which, entangled with one another like a Gordian knot, have even to this day obscured the beautiful simplicity of this part of Natural History."* The vertebrate animals by which we are surrounded retain through life, with some variations in size and colouring, very nearly the same form they had at Chrysalis and Caterpillar of the Magpie Moth. their birth. Insects, on the contrary, have their parts and powers progressively developed, and pass * Swammerdam, Book of Nature, p. 223. CATERPILLARS. 31 in general through four distinct stages of existence. They are first contained in eggs deposited by the parent. They then become active and rapacious, and in this state some tribes are known by the com- mon names of maggots, grubs, or caterpillars, all of which are included by naturalists in the term larvae. Every one is familiar with their appearance, and few unacquainted with their destructive powers. They have furnished Shakspeare on many occasions with appropriate metaphors. Thus the creatures of Richard are termed by Bolingbroke " the caterpillars of the Commonwealth," (King Richard II., Act II. Sc. IV.), and the Duke of York's reflection on the destruction of his hopes, is, " Thus are my blossoms blasted in the bud, And caterpillars eat my leaves away." .Second Part Henry VI., Act III. Sc. I. " False caterpillars " is the epithet bestowed by Jack Cade and his " ragged multitude " on their opponents ; but never is the image employed in a manner more just, and yet more melancholy, than when in King Richard II. the gardener enters into a colloquy with his attendant on the state of the kingdom, while the queen, who had entered " to drive away the heavy thoughts of care," becomes a concealed listener to their discourse. Instead of 32 CHRYSALIS STATE OF INSECTS. silently executing the directions of his superior to "Cut off the heads of too fast growing sprays," the servant inquires — " Why should we in the compass of a pale Keep law, and form, and due proportion, Shewing, as in a model, our firm state ; When our sea-walled garden, the whole land Is full of weeds ; her fairest flowers choked up, Her fruit trees all unpruned, her hedges ruin'd, Her knots disorder'd, and her wholesome herbs Swarming with caterpillars ? "—Act III. Sc. IV. The next state of insects is the Pupa, or Chrysalis, in which they assume very different forms and diver- sified habits. Some are lively and active, as the crickets and cockroaches, which are found in our kitchens. Others are enveloped in a peculiar cover- ing, called a cocoon, formed for the occasion, and composed of leaves, of wood, or of silk. Now all appearance of vitality is lost, until at its appointed time the enclosed insect bursts its sepulchre, flings off the vestments of the tomb, and, gifted with beauty of form, and with powers unknown before, enters on the enjoyment of a new state of existence. To you I need not say anything of the classical asso- ciations or the train of spiritual reflections which such a change is calculated to excite. Without in- dulging in either the one or the other, Shakspeare has employed his knowledge of the fact to illustrate TRANSFORMATION OF INSECTS 33 the altered condition of Coriolanus, when from a Roman general he has become the invincible leader of the Volscians in their progress against his native city. " Is 't possible," asks Sicinius, " that so short a time can alter the condition of a man ? " and most justly is he answered by Menenius : " There is a difference between a grub and a butterfly, yet your butterfly was a grub." — Act V. Sc. IV. Caterpillar, leaf-cocoon, and chrysalis of the Prometheus Moth. Almost every one has noticed the destruction of clothes, furs, and tapestry by the larva of minute moths (Tineidce). It is not to be supposed, therefore, that the all-seeing eye of Shakspeare should pass un- D 34 " THE WORM i' THE BUD." noticed so ordinary an occurrence. We accordingly find reference made to it in more than one instance. Thus Borachio, in "Much Ado about Nothing," speaks of " the smirch'd moth-eaten tapestry ;" and when the visitor of Virgilia is wishing her to " lay aside her stitchery " and play the idle huswife," she tauntingly says, " You would be another Penelope ; yet they say all the yarn she spun in Ulysses' absence did but fill Ithaca full of moths." — Coriolanus, Act I. Sc. III. There is another insect of the same family whose choice of a dwelling evinces a more refined luxurious- ness, if, indeed, we are warranted in making use, even metaphorically, of such a term, when to every insect the food destined for its support is that which is most grateful to its palate. The larva I allude to (Lozotcenia Rosana) passes by the " smirch'd ta- pestry," and chooses for its domicile " the fresh lap of the crimson rose." It there lives among the blossoms, and prevents the possibility of their further developement. The stop thus put to the ordinary course of vegetation must early have excited the attention of all who take delight in the " innocent flower," and hence we find — " the bud bit with an envious worm Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air, Or dedicate his beauty to the same " — (Romeo and Juliet, Act I. Sc. I.) THE CANKER. 35 has been a favourite object of comparison. In the mouth of Viola it becomes one of the most touching images that poet ever employed : " She never told her love ; But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, Feed on her damask cheek." Twelfth Night, Act II. Sc. I. In many other passages " the worm " is either alluded to, or mentioned, as " the canker." Thus, when Laertes is cautioning Ophelia against " Hamlet and the trifling of his favour," (Act I. Sc. III.) his words are — " The canker galls the infants of the spring, Too oft, before their buttons be disclosed." Among the enumeration given by Titania of the duties of her fairy attendants — " To kill cankers in the musk-rose buds," (Midsummer Night's Dream, Act II. Sc. III.) holds a prominent place ; and when in the opening scene of the "Two Gentlemen of Verona," Protheus is defending himself against the raillery of his friend Valentine, the image which he employs is sldlfully turned against himself. " Protheus. Yet writers say, as in the sweetest bud The eating canker dwells, so eating love Inhabits in the finest wits of all. D 2 36 COCOON OF THE SILKWORM. Valentine. And writers say, as the most forward bud Is eaten by the canker ere it blow, Even so by love, the young' and tender wit Is turn'd to folly : blasting in the bud, Losing his verdure even in the prime." — Act I. Sc. I. The larvce yet mentioned are all of them destruc- tive in some degree to our property, either to that species of property comprised in the vegetable king- dom, or that which constitutes the raiment of our persons, or the furniture of our apartments ; and so far they are all represented as injurious to man. One, however, is casually introduced, whose labours may be considered as outweighing, by the advantages they produce, the injuries which all the others may occasionally inflict. It is the larva of a moth. The produce of its cocoon was at one period con- sidered so valuable, as to be estimated in Imperial Rome at its weight in gold, and even now it gives employment to many thousand individuals, and forms an important branch of our national manufactures. You no doubt suspect already that the insect to which I allude is the silkworm. Othello, in the cele- brated scene where he demands " the handkerchief," venerated as the dying gift of his mother, and en- dowed with supernatural virtues by " an Egyptian," mentions the insect thus : — " The worms were hallow'd that did breed the silk." Act III. Sc. IV. THE NUT WEEVIL, 37 In two passages Shakspeare mentions a nut with no kernel. In the first passage the words are em- ployed figuratively, to denote the absence of real worth in the character of Parolles — " There can be no kernel in this light nut." All's Well that Ends Well, Act II. Sc. V. In the other they are used to imply a want of under- standing. " Tliersites. Hector shall have a great catch if he knock out either of your brains : 'a were as good crack a fusty nut with no kernel."— Troilus mid Cressida, Act II. Sc. I. There is nothing in those extracts to indicate that Shakspeare was cognizant of " The red-capped worm that's shut Within the concave of a nut ;"—{Herrick , s Hesperides.*) but that he was so, is apparent from the phrase in As You Like It, " as concave as a worm-eaten nut," (Act III. Sc. IV.), and also from the passage in which he describes the equipage of Queen Mab — " Her chariot is an empty hazel nut, Made by the joiner squirrel, or old grub, Time out of mind the fairies' coachmaker." Romeo and Juliet, Act I. Sc. IV. The " old grub " here mentioned by the poet as caus- ing the vacuity in the shell, is the larva of a weevil * Quoted by Kirby and Spence, vol. i. p. 309. 38 IMPERIAL DIET. (Balaninus nucum). The mother is furnished with a long horny beak, and while the nut is yet soft, drills a hole through the shell, deposits an egg, and thus furnishes its future offspring with a house for its defence, and food for its support. a branch of the filbert tree; a, perforation of the weevil; b, extremity of the nut; c, exit hole of the grub ; b, the grub; c, the pupa; d, the perfect insect. In the passages already quoted, the word worm is not applied to the object to which we usually give the name, the common earth-worm (Lumbricus ter- restris), but to the larva of some species of insect. It is in this sense that the word is almost invariably employed by Shakspeare. Thus, when Hamlet says, " your worm is your only emperor for diet," the meaning of the word worm is evident from the re- mainder of the passage — " We fat all creatures else to fat us, and we fat ourselves for maggots." THE BLIND-WORM'S STING. 39 In one instance, however, the word worm denotes some species of venemous reptile ; for Cleopatra asks the countryman who brings her " the aspick," " Hast thou the pretty worm of Nilus here, that kills and pains not ? " and some commentators have attri- buted a similar meaning to the words used by the disguised duke when addressing Claudio : " Thou art by no means valiant, For thou dost fear the soft and tender fork Of a poor worm."— Measure for Measure, Act III. Sc. I. In this opinion I for one do not concur. It seems to be more probable that in this instance, and in the line, " Worm nor snail do no offence,"— (Midsummer Night's Dream, Act II. Sc. III. the common earth-worm, which truly belongs to the class Vermes, is the creature alluded to. The word] worm occurs again in the enumeration by the witches in " Macbeth," of " the ingredients of our cauldron." But here the " blind- worm's sting" is obviously in- tended to apply to the Anguis fragilis, or blind- worm of Great Britain, a reptile which, I believe, is not found in Ireland. I saw it some years ago, for the first time, in that part of Scotland — "Where Loch Vennachar in silver flows." I shall not at present dwell longer on the notice 40 THE STUDY NOT UNPROFITABLE. taken by Shakspeare of insects ere they assume their perfect form. Enough has been adduced to show that he was aware of their changes, and familiar with the appearance and economy of those belonging to very different orders. But as you may perhaps wish to hear something of the powers occasionally exercised in tins part of the kingdom by those dimi- nutive and apparently contemptible beings, I shall send you shortly some notes respecting their ravages. After I have thus " showed you all the qualities o' the isle," you remain at perfect liberty to abjure Entomology, should it appear to you " Weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable." WLere the bee aucks t±iere suck I." TSMPSST, Having now, my dear friend, glanced at the destructive powers exercised by the caterpillars of insects, we are prepared for entering on some con- siderations relative to their economy and habits. But I must trespass a little longer on your patience, to bring before you in one connected view an im- portant point in their physical organization. Some tribes of insects, as you well know, are rapacious, and live by the destruction of those which are less powerful than themselves. Some, like " the worm 42 ORGANS OF INSECTS. i' the bud," feast on the petals of flowers, and others revel on the nectar of our choicest fruits. By their numbers, their varied powers, and their diversified instincts, they exert a prodigious influence on the economy of Nature. This influence depends in many instances on the structure of those organs by which they provide themselves with nourishment, joined of course to those peculiar instincts invari- ably accompanying each particular formation of the mouth. I propose, therefore, in my present letter to confine myself to a slight sketch of the oral apparatus with which insects are furnished, an apparatus which undergoes an astonishing number of modifications. In fact, on a minute scrutiny, we find throughout all the insect tribes the same admirable adaptation of means to an end which has so frequently been pointed out in the various organs of quadrupeds and birds. The flexile trunk of the elephant, the graceful neck of the giraffe, the talons and strength of the eagle, the migratory powers of the swallow, are not better adapted to their wants and capabilities, than are the instruments by which insects take their respective food. It becomes, therefore, a pleasing inquiry to ascertain what structure of mouth belongs to each order of insects ; by what habits that structure is accompanied, and by what changes in those habits every alteration in the structure of the mouth is at- DESTRUCTION BY ANTS. 43 tended. Nor is this an inquiry unconnected with the well-being of man, or far removed from his pur- suits. When we are told that about seventy years ago a species of ant appeared in the Island of Gre- nada in such infinite hosts as to put a stop to the cultivation of the sugar cane ; that the government of the country offered a reward of twenty thousand pounds to any person who should discover an effect- ual mode of destroying them ; and that many domestic quadrupeds, together with rats, mice, reptiles, and even birds, fell a prey to their attacks, we very naturally inquire by what means could an insect, so insignificant, produce effects so important ? * "When we read of locusts innumerable as flakes of snow, so rapacious as to devour every green thing, and at- tended in their progress by pestilence and famine, we ask, With what instruments of destruction can they be provided ? How are they rendered capable of exerting a power so terrific ? A glance at the formation of their mouths, and a moment's reflection on their bodily powers, and the myriads which make their appearance together, will solve the question. I shall not at present enter into any details of the habits of different insects : these I reserve for descrip- tion at some future time, taken in connection with the passages in which they are noticed by the Bard * Kirby and Spence, vol. i. p. 182. 44 MOUTHS OF INSECTS. of Avon. But as insects belonging to seven different orders are mentioned in the plays of Shakspeare, I desire at present to convey to you an idea of the diversified structure observable in their mouths. For this purpose I shall endeavour not " to bestow my tediousness upon you " at greater length than the proposed object requires, and shall accordingly use only such quotations as are necessary to show that the insect I name is one of those recorded. For the introduction of scientific terms I make no apology. To one acquainted with the languages from which they are derived, those terms convey more distinct and definite ideas than any English words. But even if you were not so, I would still adopt the same course ; because I feel convinced that the difficulty of comprehending the meaning, and learning the signification, of a scientific term, is far more than counterbalanced by the accurate ideas with which it is ever afterwards connected in the mind of the student ; and I have had occasion to regret that in some recent publications the authors have made use of English words in a manner not only very per- plexing, but calculated to convey inaccurate, and even erroneous ideas. Few persons have examined the mouth of an in- sect ; even those who have suffered from its attack are ignorant of the structure of the weapon by which THE SHARDED BEETLE. 45 the wound has been inflicted. All the animals, the birds, the fishes, which we are in the habit of meet- ing, have a mouth composed of an upper and lower jaw, and the motion appears to be vertical. The mouth in insects is totally different : many have two upper jaws and two under jaws, and in these the motion is horizontal. In the first order of insects (ColeopteraJ , to which the " sharded beetle " belongs, the several parts of the mouth are more distinct than in many of the other divisions. Beetles, therefore, of which this order is composed, are said to have more perfect mouths than gnats, moths, or butterflies. It is not meant that any real imperfection attaches to the mouth of a gnat, or of a butterfly ; on the contrary, we know that each "is perfect after its kind;" but by using the word perfect, I merely mean to say that each of the several parts of the mouth in the beetle tribes is more fully developed than in some of the other orders, where some parts are considerably enlarged, and others exist only as rudiments, or else are altogether wanting. A perfect mouth consists of seven parts : and will perhaps be better understood by a reference to the accompanying figure. The mouth consists, as in all masticating insects, of an upper lip, labrum (a) ; a pair of horny jaws, moving horizontally, called 46 COLEOPTEROUS INSECTS. mandibles (b) ; two other jaws, maxilla (c), of a less firm consistence, bearing a palpus or feeler (d) ; and lastly a lower lip, labium (e), furnished with a pair of palpi (/), and implanted upon a broad, horny, basal piece, which is termed the chin, or mentum (g). The upper and lower lip and the tongue are so analogous to the corresponding parts in the verte- brate animals, that I need not say any thing respect- ing their uses. With the jaws the case is widely different. The mandibles or upper jaws are situated on each side and immediately under the labrum or upper lip. The office of mastication peculiarly belongs to them. In some genera they are powerful instru- ments, of a hard substance like horn ; but in " the shard-borne beetle " they are soft and membranous. A corresponding change is observable in the habits of the insects. The former are cannibals, and live COLEOPTEROUS INSECTS. 47 by rapine ; the latter are scavengers, and subsist on the dung of quadrupeds. The mandibles are generally armed with teeth, and those teeth are divided into Geotrupes stercorarius. incisive, laniary, and molary, as in the Mammalia , they are not, however, fixed into the mandibles, but form an actual part of those organs. Underneath the mandibles are the maxilla?, placed one on each side of the labium. They are occasionally employed in lacerating the food, but their primary use seems to be to hold and preserve it from falling, while the mandibles are employed in its laceration. In looking at the mouth of a beetle, you will probably observe some parts which I have not yet named. These are not essential, like those I have already mentioned. They are termed Palpi, and have a trivial appellation, derived from the peculiar part of the mouth to which 48 ORTHOPTEB.OUS INSECTS. they are attached : when they spring from the maxillae, they are termed Maxillary Palpi ; when they are attached to the lower lip, they are called Labial Palpi. Much difference of opinion has existed as to their functions, but the most general belief now is, that they are really what their name denotes, " feelers." Mole Cricket, Gryllotalpa vulgaris. "As merry as crickets," is the comparison made use of by Poins in one of his frolics with the Prince, at the Boar's Head Tavern. This merry insect be- longs to a different order, Orthoptera, and exhibits in its mouth seven parts as distinct as those of the Coleoptera, but somewhat different in form. The mandibles are strong, and admirably adapted for cutting vegetable substances, on which the greater part of the order subsists ; and in this insect the tongue is more perfectly developed than in the beetle^ where it can scarcely be said to exist as a distinct ORGANS OF ORTHOPTEROUS INSECTS. 49 The insects I have yet named employ their man- dibles for cutting, or for macerating their food. In the next division the mandibles supply the place cf tools for plastering, for digging, for salving, and for cut- ting, and the food on which the insect subsists is ob- tained, not by maceration, or by suction, but simply by lapping. This is effected by a tongue well fitted for the purpose, and protected by a sheath of a singular construction from injury when not in use. The insect I have selected as the representative of this order is one with which you have long been familiar, and from whose labours you have in more ways than one derived gratification. It seems so busy and so happy that the delicate Ariel found no stronger image to denote his own enjoyment than the ex- pression — " Where the bee sucks, there suck I." Tempest, Act V. Sc. I. Strictly speaking, the bee does not suck the honey from flowers, but collects it by means of his tongue, which is furnished with a contrivance for that pur- pose, not unlike a brush, or a round plate, fringed with hair. If we hold a bee by its wings, the mouth at first sight appears to consist only of a small trans- verse Up, and a pair of strong jaws, having a lateral motion, as in fig. 1. On further examination, how- ever, a flattened instrument of a shining brown colour E 50 MOUTH OF THE BEE. is perceived, extending from the lip to the throat : this is the tongue, and at the pleasure of the bee it can be projected forward, either in a straight or curved form, as in figs. 2 and 3. I wish much I could exhibit to you some mag- nified drawings in my possession, by which the sin- gular structure of this organ would be illustrated ; but as this is impossible, I must content myself with mentioning, that the tongue in the Coleopterous and Orthopterous orders was apparently of trifling im- portance ; but in the order Hymenoptera, it becomes themost conspicuous and remarkable part of its curious oral apparatus. The mandibles are powerful, as in the other tribes, but a new and complex piece of mecha- nism has been added. The tongue, furnished with numerous muscles, and protected by sheaths when ITS WOXDERFUL ADAPTATION. 5 J not in use, is unfolded and darted instantaneously into the blossom of a flower, sweeps up the nectar which it finds, and consigns it to the honey bag. It is then sheathed with the same rapidity, retracted in part into the mouth, and the remainder doubled up under the chin and neck, until again called into The Bee's Mouth magnified. active service. This tongue is so admirably fitted for " visiting every corner of the nectaries of flowers," that it has been supposed bees can obtain their con- tents without being obliged to use their mandibles, for cutting a passage into the blossoms. This, how- ever, is not always the case. The testimony of two very accurate observers leaves no doubt on my mind e 2 52 THE HUMBLE BEE. that bees do pierce the corollas of some flowers to obtain their honey. Doctor J. L. Drummond, the talented author of " First Steps to Botany," and President of our Natural History Society, tells me that he has repeatedly seen them piercing the com- mon Comfrey (Symphytum officinale) for this purpose ; and Mr. Wyndman, another of my fellow members, and one who has paid considerable attention to Entomology, had the pleasure of seeing one of our wild bees (Bombus muscorumj busily engaged last b a, Mandible of the male, and b, of the female, Humble Bee. summer, in the Botanic Garden here, piercing the bell- shaped corollas of the Irish heath (Menziesia polifolia), and on examining the plants, found, to his great surprise, there was scarcely a blossom of the heath which had not thus been perforated. The passages in which the working bees are men- tioned by Shakspeare are so numerous, that I prefer shakspeare's drones. 53 directing your attention to them at a future time to doing so now, when I am merely mentioning the construction of their mouths. The working bees are not, however, the only ones alluded to. In the " Midsummer Night's Dream/' when Bottom, the weaver, in the character of an ass, " With amiable cheeks and fair large ears," is giving orders to his new attendants, he makes use of the following words : — " Monsieur Cob-web, good Monsieur, get your weapons in your hand, and kill me a red hip'd humble bee on the top of a thistle ; and good Monsieur, bring me the honey bag." — Act IV. Sc. I. Drones are also noticed ; for Shylock, in speaking of his servant Launcelot, (whom he had parted with to Bassanio because he " would him help to waste his borrowed purse,") after describing him as " a huge feeder," " snail slow in profit," adds, " drones hive not with me." But as the drone, the ant, to which the fool in King Lear threatens to send Kent to school, and "injurious wasps," partake of the same general structure, so far as the mouth is con- cerned, I shall not detain you with a description of any minute difference between them. Shakspeare, above all other writers, seems to possess a plastic power of moulding every object of 54 BUTTERFLIES. nature to his will, of constructing the little and the great alike to do his " spiriting gently," of finding " tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones, and good in every thing." As You Like It, Act II. Sc. I. The butterfly supplies him with many images preg- nant with instruction, and grouped with an expression and variety, which no artist could embody, who did not, like our great Poet, possess an equal knowledge of the conduct and the heart of man. Thus it is in- troduced in the reflection of Achilles, when the Grecian lords, in " Troilus and Cressida," pass by him, and " either greet him not or else disdainfully" — " What the declined is He shall as soon read in the eyes of others, As feel in his own fall ; for men, like butterflies, Show not their mealy wings but to the summer." Act III. Sc. III. "The gentle Desdemona," when beseeching the senate that she might accompany the Moor to ORGANS OF THE LEPIDOPTERA. 55 Cyprus, applies to herself the epithet " a moth of peace." I must not venture to quote all the various passages in which butterflies and moths are men- tioned, but shall at once proceed to point out the peculiar formation of mouth which the Lepidoptera possess. " The innumerable tribes of moths and butterflies," of which the order is composed, " eat nothing but the honey secreted in the nectaries of flowers, which are frequently situated at the bottom of a tube of great length. They are accordingly provided with an organ exquisitely fitted for its office — a slender and tubular tongue, more or less long, sometimes not shorter than three inches, but spirally convoluted when at rest, like the main-spring of a watch, into a convenient compass. This tongue, which they have the power of instantly unrolling, they dart into the bottom of a flower, and, as through a syphon, draw up a supply of the delicious nectar on which they feed."* I have called it a tongue, but strictly speaking it is not so. It is an organ of a carti- laginous substance, consisting of innumerable rings, and composed of three distinct tubes, through the centre one of which the honey alone is conveyed. This central one appears to be formed by the grooves of the lateral tubes, hooked together in the same * Kirby and Spence, vol. i. p. 395. 56 ORGANS OF THE LEPIDOPTERA. manner as the lamina? of a feather, and capable of being united into an air-tight canal, or of being instantly separated, at the pleasure of the insect. The formation of mouth we have now been con- sidering is totally different from that of the Cole- optera, or Hymenoptera, formerly described. The mandibles have undergone a change : they no longer appear as powerful instruments for seizing or for cutting ; and the maxillge exhibit a still greater me- tamorphosis, and have become converted into the curious tubular apparatus through which the honey is imbibed. I do not of course mean that the maxillae of the butterfly were ever like those of the beetle : by the word metamorphosis, I merely mean that a difference is observed, and not that the one ever becomes converted into the other. These maxilla? are very singular in their structure, and you can, by taking a pin, and applying it to those of any butter- fly, satisfy yourself that it is composed of two dis- tinct tubes. Now, a question naturally arises, of what use are the two outer tubes, when the central one formed by their union is the only one through which the fluid passes ? To explain the cut bono of any point in animal physiology is, in our imperfect state of knowledge, a difficult undertaking; but I am inclined to think that they are of service in pro- tecting the central one from the pressure of the THE DIPTERA. 0/ atmosphere. If a vacuum were formed in the tube, and it were not strengthened by this contrivance, the sides might be pressed together, and the honey prevented from ascending to the mouth of the insect. This I throw out merely as a suggestion, the truth or falsehood of which I would wish you to prove by observation. If it be a " baseless fabric," the sooner it be " dissolved "the better. The next order of insects, the Diptera, or two- winged flies, are frequently mentioned. Titus An- dronicus rebukes his brother Marcus for killing a fly during a repast : — " Poor harmless fly ! That with his pretty buzzing melody Came here to make us merry, and thou hast kill'd him." Act III. Sc. II. " The common people swarm like summer flies, And whither fly the gnats but to the sun ? " (Act II. Sc. VI.) is the reflection of the wounded Clifford in " Henry the Sixth." " My brave Egyptians all Lie graveless till the flies and gnats of Nile Have buried them for prey," — (Act III. Sc. XL) are the words of Cleopatra. These extracts sufficiently indicate that Shakspeare was familiar with the habits of some of the many genera comprised in this order. To the different formation of their mouths I would now wish to 58 ORGANS OF THE DIPTERA. direct your attention ; but I find it impossible to con- vey to you, without the aid of magnified drawings, a, Antenna of the Tipulida—'B, of Tabanus—c, of Musca. a precise idea of the variations in structure which they exhibit. They have, however, one common character ; they are formed for imbibing food by suction ; of this the common fly is perhaps the most familiar example. In other genera, as in that to which the " small grey-coated gnat " belongs, the labrum, mandibulse, maxillee, and lingua, become converted into a series of sharp and delicate instru- ments, which not only pierce the skin, but form a tube for the passage of the blood on which they live. a, Mouth of Tabamis—B, of Musca. THE HEMIPTERA. 59 It is supposed, and not without good reason, that they have the power of instilling a poison into the wound, which has the effect of rendering the blood more fluid, and better adapted for suction. Insects of the order Hemiptera abstract the juices of plants and animals by means of an instrument of a construction altogether different. To this order the bug (Cimex lectuluriusj belongs ; but it is a singular fact, and one which shows that this dis- gusting visitant must have been comparatively little known in the days of " good Queen Bess," that although the word bug occurs on five or six different occasions in Shakspeare's Plays, it is in every instance synonymous with bugbear, and does not designate the insect. Thus Petruchio, unawed by the descrip- tion of the " wild cat " Catharine, scornfully exclaims to the lovers of Bianca : " Tush, tush! fear boys with bugs ;" and when Leontes, inflamed with groundless jealousy against Hermione, bids her " look for no less than death," her reply contains the same word in precisely a similar sense : — " Sir, spare your threats, The bug which you will fright me with I seek." Winter's Tale, Act III. Sc. I. It is not so, however, with another, to which you would be most likely to apply the words of Jaques — " let 's meet as little as we can." As You Like It, Act III. Sc. II. 60 THE APTERA. The insect I allude to, is that mentioned by Dame Quickly in describing the death of Sir John Falstaff, " 'A saw a flea sticking upon Bardolph's nose." In this order (Aphaniptera) the mandibles appear like two little plates: the maxillae and tongue assume the form of lancets, and the labrum and palpi are altogether different. One insect still remains, belonging to the order Aptera ; but I shall let Shakspeare himself intro- duce it to your notice. The passage I shall quote is from the opening scene of the " Merry Wives of Windsor," in which Justice Shallow, Slender, and Evans are holding forth on the importance of Shallow and his family, on his being " a gentleman born," and writing himself " Armigero : " — " Shallow.— Ay, that I do, and have done so any time these three hundred years. Slender.— All his successors gone before him have done it, and all his ancestors that come after him may : they may give the dozen white luces in their coat. Shallow. — 'Tis an old coat. Evans.— The dozen white louses do become an old coat well : it agrees well passant ; it is a familiar beast to man, and signifies love." Swammerdam, who died in 1681, is the latest naturalist I have heard of, who has paid any attention to the structure or anatomy of the genus. His words are, " The louse has neither beak, teeth, nor any kind of mouth, as Doctor Hook described it, for the HABITS OF 1XSECTS. 61 entrance into the gullet is absolutely closed ; in place of all these, it has a proboscis, or trunk, or, as it may be otherwise called, a pointed and hollow aculeus or sucker, with which it pierces the skin, and sucks the human blood, taking it for food into the body." — Book of Nature, p. 33. Now, my dear Arnold, cast a retrospective glance over the various formations of mouth which I have described. In the Coleoptera, the powerful jaws of the predaceous beetles (formidable weapons of attack!), and the softer texture of the organs in those tribes, which live on substances in a state of decay. The strong mandibles of another order (Orthoptera) , adapted to the cutting of their appropriate vegetable food. The various modifications of these instru- ments, in the extensive genera of the order Hymeno- ptera,\ giving to them the capability of being used as spades, saws, augers, trowels, &c, and the new and important offices which are performed by the tongue. The change which is apparent when we advance to the butterfly (Lepidoptera) , and examine the flexible siphon, through which its nectareous nu- triment is imbibed. The singular and varied struc- ture exhibited in the gnat or the fly (Diptera), and so fitted for the suction of their liquid food. The still further modifications presented by the lancets and the sucker of the remaining orders (Aphaniptera 62 MECHANISM IN INSECTS. and Aptera), and by the total absence of parts which in others had held a conspicuous place. Contrast this diversity of structure with the comparative uni- formity observable among the higher animals. Con- sider, too, how admirably each set of organs is adapted to the peculiar food on which the insect lives ; what infinite skill, what minute, yet beautiful mechanism, they respectively exhibit, and you will admit that Entomology may have many a sentiment of humble admiration and wonder — many a devout and unpre- meditated outpouring of devotional feeling laid upon her shrine ; and that the words which Cleomenes em- ployed when speaking of Delphos would not in the present instance be inapplicable ; " The air most sweet "— " the temple much surpassing The common praise it bears."— Winter's Tale, Act III. Sc. I. The shard-borne beetle, with his drowsy hums, Hath rung night's yawning peal." From caterpillars of the several kinds mentioned by Shakspeare, and from the consideration of the various forms of the mouth observable among in- sects, we now advance to their habits and most remarkable peculiarities. I hope that the " gentle dulness" which may have pervaded many parts of my former letters will now be dispelled, and that you may become interested in attending to the working of those various instincts with which the beings we are considering have been endowed. So 64 the beetle's hum. wonderful and admirable are their operations that Bonnet says, "When I see an insect working at the construction of a nest or a cocoon, I am impressed with respect, because it seems to me that I am at a spectacle where the supreme Artist is hid behind the curtain." The first insect I shall mention, and the one to which I shall confine myself in my present letter, is the common dor, or clock or blind beetle, which flies in the summer's evenings, and occasionally startles us by striking against our faces or our persons. This circumstance has been accurately described by Collins : — " Now air is hushed save where the beetle winds His small but sullen horn ; As oft he rises, midst the twilight path, Against the pilgrim borne in heedless hum." Ode to Evening. Gray has most happily depicted, in his well-known elegy, the circumstances under which it appears. The flocks are returning from pasture, the husband- man from his toil, the landscape is fading " on the sight," and the air is still, " Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight." The remai'kable sound which accompanies its flight has been frequently noticed. the beetle's hum. 65 "The beetle's drowsy distant hum" is mentioned in one of Hogg's songs, as singing the lullaby of the departing day, and is again described in his amusing little poem " Connel of Dee." " The beetle began bis wild airel to tune, And sang on the wynd with an eirysome croon, Away on the breeze of the Dee." Vol. II. p. 119. The beetle's hum is recorded by Crabbe among " the sounds that make Silence more awful." Shakspeare has intrqduced it with the happiest effect into his " Macbeth." Ere the bat hath flown His cloister'd flight ; ere to black Hecate's summons The shard-borne beetle, with his drowsy hums, Hath rung night's yawning peal, there shall be done A deed of dreadful note." Macbeth, Act III. Sc. II. And here I may be permitted to remark, that a very slight knowledge of Natural History may occa- sionally assist us, in understanding the description of such authors as record what they themselves have noticed. The beetle is furnished with two large membranaceous wings, which are protected from external injury by two very hard, horny wing cases, or, as entomologists term them, elytra. The old English name was " shard," and this word was 66 THE " SHARD-BORNE BEETLE." introduced into three of Shakspeare's plays. Thus, in his " Antony and Cleopatra," — " They are his shards, and he their beetle ;" (Act III. Sc. II.) and in " CymbeHne," — " Often to our comfort do we find The sharded beetle in a safer hold Than is the full-wing'd eagle."— Act III. Sc. III. These shards or wing cases are raised and ex- panded when the beetle flies, and by their concavity act like two parachutes in supporting him in the air. Hence the propriety and correctness of Shakspeare's description, " the shard-borne beetle," a description embodied in a single epithet. I do not mean to assert that the word shard has not other meanings ; in fact, it is employed by Hamlet in its primitive English signification — a piece of broken tile ; for the priest says of Ophelia, "Shards, flints, and pebbles should be thrown on her." Act V. Sc. I. I only deny that any of its other meanings should be used in the present instance. The one most applicable is that given by Mr. Toilet, as quoted in the notes to Ayscough's edition of Shakspeare, that " shard- born beetle is the beetle born in cow-dung; and that shard expresses dung is well known in the THE SCARABJEUS. 67 north of Staffordshire, where cow's shard is the word generally used for cow-dung." But it is not so likely that Shakspeare was acquainted with the stercoraceous nidus of the insect, as that he observed the peculiarity of its flight, assisted by its expanded elytra ; and if the word at the time he lived had both meanings, I hope you will acknowledge the one I have given to be the more probable. Should you, however, feel disposed to enter more fully into a question of the kind, I would refer you to a long and very interesting note published in the Zoological Journal, No. xviii. p. 147. The dor, or blind beetle (Geotrupes stercorarius), belongs to the Linnsean genus Scarabaus. The antennae are composed of several little plates strung together at one edge ; these, when the insect reposes, are closely applied to each other, but they diverge when it moves, and thus expose the papillary surface to the air. It belongs to one of the numerous tribes of insects which feed on organized matter in a state of decay, and thus assist in preserving the general salubrity of the earth. From their mode of life the word " saprophaga," signifying literally, as you know, " devourers of filth," has become the name by which the family is distinguished. Mr. MacLeay, so well known among modern naturalists as the proposer of the quinary system of classification, f 2 68 SACRED SCARAB^IUS. states that it was the peculiar interest which the Scarabceus sacer of Linnseus excited as being a principal among the many objects " qualia demens ^Egyptus coluit." that first led him to investigate the natural history of the insect. His father's cabinet contained one thousand eight hundred species of sca- rabsei, and thus supplied him with an inducement to commence the study, and with the means for its successful cultivation. The sacred scarabseus, which first led MacLeay to the study of Entomology, differs in some of its habits from our most common native scarabsei, although belonging to the same Linnaean genus. Its image sculptured on many of the Egyptian monuments affords a melancholy proof of the superstition which reigned in a country where the arts flourished and science found an abode. The insect is still common in Egypt, and excites by its habits the surprise of all who have only been accustomed to see the com- mon dor of these countries. Doctor Clarke says, " Upon the sands around the city of Rosetta we saw the Scarabseus pilularius, or rolling beetle, [it is now more properly termed the Scarabseus sacer,] as it is sculptured on the obelisks and other monuments of the country, moving before it a ball of dung, in which it deposits an egg. Among the Egyptian antiquities preserved in the British Museum is a AN OBJECT OF WORSHIP IN EGYPT. 69 most colossal figure of this insect. It is placed upon an altar, before which a priest is represented kneeling. The beetle served as food for the Ibis. Its remains are sometimes discovered in the earthenware repositories of those embalmed birds which are found at Saccara and Thebes. With the ancients it was a type of the sun. We often find it among the characters used in the hieroglyphic writing. As this insect appears in that season of the year which im- mediately precedes the inundation of the Nile, it may have been so represented as a symbol of the spring, or of fecundity, or of the Egyptian month anterior to the rising of the water. The ancient superstitions with regard to it are not wholly extinct, for the women of the country still eat this beetle in order to become prolific."* In Denon's splendid work on Egypt, I find the following passage, which bears directly on the sub- ject of our present inquiry : — " Scarabees, emblemes de la sagesse, de la force, de l'industrie : son image se trouve partout, ainsi que celle du serpent ; il occupe la place la plus distingu^e dans les temples, non seulement comme ornement, comme attribut, mais comme objet de culte." — Vol. n. p. 60. " The subject admits of further illustration by reference to Plutarch. f According to him, soldiers * Travels, vol. iv. p. 8. t Plutarch de Iside et Osiride, cap. x. 70 ITS IMAGE ON SIGNETS. wore the image of the beetle upon their signets ; and this, perhaps, may account not only for the number of them found, but also for the coarseness of the workmanship."* The unrolment of a mummy in the Royal College of Surgeons, London, on the 16th of January, 1834, afforded another example of the superstitious feelings connected with the scarabseus among the ancient Egyptians. From the mythological characters painted on the cases, the nature of the colours em- ployed, &c, it was ascertained that the body was that of an incense-bearing priest, of the temple of Ammon, at Thebes. " An amulet of various- coloured stones was on the breast, and lower down a scarabaeus, about an inch in length, in jade or other hard substance." — Lit. Gaz., No. 887. The habits of the beetle at Rosetta, described by Doctor Clarke, are similar to those of many indi- viduals of the same family, — among them to one which I have found about the base of the Mourne mountains, county of Down, in spring (Geotrupes vernalis) . This insect is said to deposit its egg in a ball, prepared for that purpose, and rolled in the man- ner already described ; but in districts where sheep are kept it wisely saves its labour, and ingeniously avails itself of the pellet- shaped balls of dung which * Travels, vol. iv. p. 8. HABITS OF THE BEETLE. 71 those animals supply, and which are admirably adapted for its purpose.* The dor or blind beetle adopts a different course of proceeding ; and it must excite our admiration of the infinite wisdom with which every part of the economy of nature is ordered, to observe that the method employed by the female to secure a proper nidus for her eggs, serves " to second, too, another use." She makes a large cylindrical hole, often of considerable depth, and in it she deposits her eggs, surrounded by a mass of dung, in which they have been previously enveloped. Here the labour of the insect ceases ; the develope- ment of her young is secured, and their sustenance provided. But the advantage resulting from her toil does not terminate. The manure, which is positively injurious to vegetation when lying in a mass, is not only dispersed, but it is buried at the roots of the adjoining plants, thus contributing considerably to the fertility of our pastures, and, consequently, to the well-being of all those animals who depend on these pastures for their support. Spring is in general far advanced before the dor beetle appears, so that we usually regard it as a summer visitant : an occasional one, however, ven- tures to come forth at an earlier period, for in the * Sturm, Deutschlancls Fauna, i. 27, quoted by Kirby and Spence, vol. ii. p. 475. 72 FEIGNED DEATH OF ANIMALS. spring of 1834, I recognized the insect on the even- ing of the 11th of March, in the immediate vicinity of Belfast. I have often been amused, on taking the common dor beetle, at observing the manner in which it feigns death. Its legs are set out perfectly stiff and im- moveable, which is its posture when really dead, and, no matter how much it is tossed about in the hand, it will not, by the slightest movement, betray its stratagem. The only way to restore its activity is to allow it to remain for a minute or two undis- turbed. It is said by this procedure to deceive the rooks, which feed upon it, but which do so only when their captive is alive. A curious example of a similar instinct in birds is given in the " Time's Telescope" for 1833 : — " A gentleman had a corn- crake brought to him by his dog : it was dead to all appearance. As it lay on the ground he turned it over with his foot : he was convinced that it was dead ; standing by, however, some time in silence, he suddenly saw it open an eye. He then took it up ; its head fell, its legs hung loose, it appeared again totally dead. He then put it in his pocket, and before very long he felt it all alive, and struggling to escape. He took it out : it was as lifeless as before. He then laid it upon the ground, and re- tired to some distance : in about five minutes it GREAT STRENGTH OF BEETLES. 73 warily raised its head, looking round, and decamped at full speed." The dor beetle, in common with many others, is occasionally infested with minute parasitic insects, termed acari. In my cabinet at present I have one of the rapacious beetles (Carabidce) so covered with these parasites, that the real colour of the beetle is no where visible, not even on the legs. I was witness, in 1831, on the Malone road, near this town, of an ingenious device, which the dor beetle employed to get rid of its tormentors. It alighted on a heap of hardened dirt, folded up its wings with its usual rapidity, then forced its way twice through the mass, and while the acari which were thus brushed off, were running about in great apparent confusion, it hurried from their vicinity and effected its escape. The great strength of these beetles in comparison with their size is a peculiarity deserving of notice. If one is taken in the hand, it will in a very short time force its way out in despite of our utmost pressure. Catesby, in his " Carolina," states that " Doctor j Brichell was supping one evening in a planter's house of North Carolina, when two of them were conveyed without his knowledge under the candlesticks. A few blows were struck on the table, when, to his great surprise, the candlesticks began to move about, apparently without any agency ; 74 THEIR NUMBERS and his surprise was not much lessened when, on taking one of them up, he discovered that it was only a chafer that moved." This fact must have been known to Sir Walter Scott, for in " Peveril of the Peak," in the scene where Julian Peveril and Geoffry Hudson are im- prisoned together, the dwarf says, " The least crea- tures are oftentimes the strongest. Place a beetle under a tall candlestick, and the insect will move it by its efforts to get out ; which is, in point of com- parative strength, as if one of us should shake his Majesty's prison of Newgate by similar struggles." We are generally in the habit of seeing but one or two of these insects at a time, but on some occasions they appear in considerable numbers. Mr. Knapp, in his " Journal of a Naturalist," states that one evening his attention was called to them in par- ticular, by the passing of such a number as to con- stitute a little stream. " I was led," he continues, " to search into the object of their direct flight, as in general it is irregular and seemingly inquisitive. I soon found that they dropped on some recent nuisance : but what powers of perception must these creatures possess, drawn from all distances and directions by the very little fcetor which in such a calm evening could be diffused around ! and by what inconceivable means could odours reach this beetle, AND CLEANLINESS. /O so as to rouse so inert an insect into action ! But it is appointed one of the great scavengers of the earth, and marvellously endowed with powers of sensation, and means of effecting the purpose of its being."* The same elegant writer remarks, " The perfect cleanliness of these creatures is a very notable cir- cumstance, when we consider that nearly their whole lives are passed in burrowing the earth, and re- moving nuisances ; yet, such is the admirable polish of their coating and limbs, that we seldom find any soil adhering to them. The meloe, and some of the scarabasi, upon first emerging from their winter's retreat, are commonly found with earth clinging to them; but the removal of this is one of the first operations of the creature, and all the beetle race, the chief occupation of which is crawling about the soil and such dirty employs, are, notwithstanding, remarkable for the glossiness of their covering and freedom from defilement of any kind. But purity of vesture seems to be a principal precept of nature, and observable throughout creation." f It is obvious from the various circumstances now mentioned, that this humble beetle and its congeners have been objects of interest to many cultivated minds. They have furnished our poets with imagery, which will live with our " land's language." They * Pagre 319, third edition. t Page 321. 76 STUDY OF THEM RECOMMENDED. have formed a subject for the ingenuity of learned commentators. They have demanded the notice of the historian, and the inquiry of the antiquarian : and their various instinctive actions have supplied a theme for the admiration of the naturalist. If, in the pre- sent imperfect state of our knowledge, and with our attention directed to only one of their most obvious external characteristics, they have been found thus interesting, what delight should we not feel if we could follow the complexity of their internal organiza- tion, and develope the laws, on which their produc- tion, their growth, and their preservation, essentially depend ! Oh ! I do fear thee, Claudio ; and I quake. Lest thou a feverous life should'; And sis or seven winters more respect Than a perpetual honour." MEASURE FOR MEi After mentioning the best-known individual of all those included under the term " beetles," I now proceed to notice one of the most important divisions of the insects belonging to the same order fColeo- pteraj . I allude to those which, instead of subsisting on decayed vegetable and animal substances, are predaceous in their habits, and live on animal food (Adephaga) . The principal part of their subsistence 78 VORACITY OF THE CARABID.E. is derived from the flesh of the smaller insects which they are able to overcome, and they seize as booty any recent animal matter which chance may throw in their way. They are so constantly forag- ing about for provisions, so incessantly running across our paths, that they must occasionally be trampled to death. Hence " the poor beetle that we tread upon " probably belongs to the tribe forbidden by the fairies to come near the sleeping Titania : — " Beetles black, approach not here." Almost every stone during spring and summer forms a covering for some of these insects, as you have no doubt observed on many occasions. So numerous are the individuals comprised in some of the families into which they are divided, that of one very com- mon kind (CarabidceJ , Curtis states we have two hundred and seventy-five British species. All of these are complete cannibals in their habits, and sometimes by their rapacity disappoint the inexperi- enced collector. On one occasion, when I was from home on an entomological excursion, I put three of them into a box together until I had an opportunity of plunging them into hot water, the most expeditious method of lolling them. In about an hour I re- turned to the house, and found, to my disappoint- SENSIBILITY OF INSECTS. 79 ment, that two of them had overpowered the third, had eaten the body, and were then deliberately pick- ing out the fragments of flesh which still adhered to the horny covering. " The poor beetle that we tread upon" must not, however, be passed by with so cursory a notice. The precise meaning which in this passage the Poet in- tended to convey would indicate to us what was Shakspeare's opinion of the sensibility of insects compared with that of man, and this in our present researches it is important to ascertain. The passage in which these words occur, is introduced in " Mea- sure for Measure." " the poor beetle that we tread upon In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great As when a giant dies." — Act III. Sc. I. Numerous, indeed, are the observations to which those lines have given rise. It is usually asserted that the Poet meant to say, " the corporal sufferings of a giant are great, and those of a beetle when trodden underfoot are as great." If this be so, the Entomologist who kills an insect for his cabinet, occasions the same amount of actual suffering he would do, were he to put one of his fellow-creatures to death. Were this the case, I for one would abjure a pursuit so fraught with cruelty, and bury my entire collection " deeper than e'er plummet sounded." But, before I say 80 shakspeare's meaning explained. " Othello's occupation's gone," let us examine more closely the words which Shakspeare employs, and the circumstances under which they are used. Claudio is in a dungeon, from which the compliance of his sister Isabella with the terms of the viceroy would set him free. She dreads his fear of death may overcome his sense of honour, and that he may urge her, as in fact he eventually does, to adopt that remedy which " to save a head " would " cleave a heart in twain." Under this apprehension she speaks : — " Oh ! I do fear thee, Claudio ; and I quake, Lest thou a feverous life should' st entertain, And six or seven winters more respect Than a perpetual honour. Darest thou die ? The sense of death is most in apprehension ; And the poor beetle that we tread upon In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great As when a giant dies." When the latter part of the sentence is separated from the preceding lines, it appears to convey such a picture of the sufferings of " the poor beetle," that many have, on this passage, brought a charge of cruelty against all persons devoted to Entomological pursuits. Such a charge, ignorance alone could suggest. " There are few instances of a more com- plete perversion of the meaning of a poetical quota- tion than occurs in this passage of Shakspeare. The object of the fair pleader being to encourage her shakspeare's meaning explained. 81 brother stedfastly to encounter death, would scarcely have been forwarded by depicting that consummation as attended with great corporal sufferance. Yet such is the effect of the omission of the context !"* The Rev. Mr. Bird, after observing, that even " Shakspeare is not an oracle on all points," remarks, " It is somewhat amusing that his words should, in this case, be entirely wrested from their original purpose. His purpose was to show how little a man feels in dying ; that ' the sense of death is most in apprehension, not in the act ; and that even a beetle, which feels so little, feels as much as a giant does.' The less, therefore, the beetle is supposed to feel, the more force we give to the sentiment of Shakspeare. "j To these extracts I shall make no addition ; for additional argument might well appear " wasteful and ridiculous excess." The ungrounded charge has, I hope, been triumphantly refuted. Beetles are mentioned by Shakspeare only in the two passages already quoted, and amid the impreca- tions of Caliban against the majestic Prospero — " All the charms Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you." Tempest, Act I. Sc. II. None of these imply, on the part of Shakspeare, * Note by E. T. Bennett.— Zoological Journal, No. xviii. p. 196. t On the Want of Analogy between the Sensations of Insects and our own.— Entomological Magazine, No. ii. p. 113. G 82 POPULAR IGNORANCE OF ENTOMOLOGY. a knowledge of the variety of their kinds. This is what might be expected ; for even Ray's celebrated work, "Historia Insectorum," published near a cen- tury after the death of our own great poet, was writ- ten, according to Haworth, in "the dark ages of science." We must not, therefore, demand from Shakspeare a knowledge beyond that of the age in which he lived. Perhaps, if the state of science at that time had been different, it would still have made little, if any, change in him. He would probably have exerted, as he did, his habits of quick and accurate observation, but would not have courted the assistance which science only can afford. In this respect he might have resembled many gifted indi- viduals of the present day, who, with all the facilities which they possess of acquiring knowledge, have never devoted a little time to learn how they might discriminate one insect from another ; how they might distinguish those living things, by which, in every place and at all seasons, they are sur- rounded. Perhaps no stronger proof can be adduced of the " plentiful lack" of information which prevails on this subject, than that which the state of our lan- guage affords. Try but to indicate by English words the first half-dozen of the most common beetles you meet in a country ramble, and you will CAKABUS NITENS AND CLATHRATUS. 83 find yourself unable to do so. In fact, their various species, their habits, and their economy, are to the generality of people alike unknown. Yet these are the phenomena which will make your love of Entomology " grow by what it feeds on." So nu- merous are the different species of beetle, and many of them so local in their habitation, that no one who pays attention to the subject for any length of time, can fail to procure either what is extremely rare, or else altogether unknown. I well recollect the plea- sure I experienced, when I procured, on the shore of Lough Neagh, at Shane's Castle, specimens of Blethisa borealis and Bembidium paludosum, insects which had not before been taken in this neighbour- hood, and which I believe had not previously been recorded as Irish. In my cabinet I have at present one of our most brilliant native insects, the Carabus nitens, a species which approaches in the splendour of its decoration to the diamond beetle of tropical climates. This insect was taken, along with Carabus clathratus, on Birkie bog, about five miles from this town. This bog is so divested of those heaths and blossoms which lend beauty to the waste and colour- ing to the landscape, that when the very extreme of sterility or nakedness is to be expressed, the country people in the vicinity invariably say, " as bare as Birkie." Yet here, on this bleak, barren, and un- 84 CICIXDELA CAMPESTRIS. cultivated waste, the Entomologist finds one of his richest and most valuable captures. As the Knight Carabus clathratus. in Undine sees the forest glades peopled beneath his feet, and rich with countless heaps of gold, so the Entomologist finds, 'mid the bleak and sterile soil, treasures which no eye less gifted than his own can witness. The mention of Carabus nitens reminds me of another beetle of a more agile form, and of scarcely- inferior decorations, — Cicindela campestris. Its colour is a golden green, with white or yellow spots, and appears peculiarly rich when the insect is running rapidly along in the bright sunshine of a summer day. You would not, when it first attracted your attention by the beauty of its form and colouring, THE GLOW-WORM. 85 be aware that you are looking on one of a family justly- named by Linnseus the tigers of the insect tribes. " Though decorated with brilliant colours, they prey upon the whole insect race ; their formidable jaws, which cross each other, are armed with fearful fangs, showing to what use they are applicable ; and the extreme velocity with which they can either run or fly, renders hopeless any attempt to elude their pur- suit. Their larvae are also equally tremendous with the imago."* I have in my cabinet specimens of the insect from the county Wicklow, and from the Tro- sachs, at Loch Katrine ; but it has not yet been ob- served in the neighbourhood of this town. I hope you will be able to detect its presence in your locality. But perhaps, like Miranda, " I prattle something too wildly;" so I shall now return once more to Shakspeare. Although the word beetle occurs only in the passages I have quoted, he has elsewhere noticed, under a different name, an individual which belongs to the same order. I allude to the glow-worm (Lampyris noctiluca), an insect rich in poetic associ- ations, and well deserving of the epithet "earth-born star," bestowed upon it by Wordsworth. It is hap- pily introduced by Titania, where she enumerates to " Pease-blossom ! Cobweb ! Moth ! and Mustard-seed !" the fairy-like services which they were to render to * Kirby and Spence, vol. i. p. 268. 86 VINDICATION OF SHAKSPEARE. the "gentle mortal," " sweet bully Bottom," with whom, in consequence of the potent spell laid on her by Oberon, she has become " much enamoured." " Steal from the humble bees, And for night tapers crop their waxen thighs, And light them at the fiery glow-worms' eyes." Act III. Sc. I. This passage has been thus censured by Doctor Johnson : — " I know not how Shakspeare, who com- monly derived his knowledge of Nature from his own observation, happened to place the glow-worm's light in his eyes, which is only in his tail." To this, Mason has replied, that " the blunder is not in Shakspeare, but in those who have construed too literally a poetic expression ;" and adds, *' Surely a poet is justified in calling the luminous part of the glow-worm the eye : it is a liberty we take in plain prose ; for the point of greatest brightness in a furnace is commonly called the eye of it." * Hoping you will agree with Mr. Douce, that Dr. Johnson's objection has " been skilfully removed by Mr. Monck Mason," I shall give you, in the words of that celebrated antiquarian, the meaning of Shaks- peare's most appropriate epithet " uneffectual," in the passage from Hamlet, " The glow-worm shews the matin to be near, And 'gins to pale his uneffectual fire."— Act I. Sc. V. * Comments on the last edition of Shakspeare's Plays, p. 12. THE GLOW-WORM S " NUPTIAL LAMP. 8/ " It was," he remarks, " unefFectual only at the ap- proach of morn, in like manner as the light of a candle would be at mid-day." * If you have ever seen the glow-worm, you may be unable to account for the soft wingless creature you behold being classed with the Coleoptera ; but it is in the male you are to look for the expansive wings, and the horny wing-covers or elytra, which form some of the characteristics of the order. The female crawls upon the ground, — the male wings his flight . Male and female Glow-worm. through the air. The light of the former is beautiful and brilliant; that of the latter, comparatively in- conspicuous, — a fact of which Shakspeare does not appear to have been cognizant. It has been poetically supposed, that the light may be regarded as a " nuptial lamp," hung out to guide the male glow-worm to the society of the female ; * Illustrations, p. 192, OO THE GLOW-WORM an idea which has been happily embodied by Moore, in the following lines : — " For well I knew the lustre shed From my rich wings, when proudliest spread, Was in its nature lambent, pure And innocent as is the light, The glow-worm hangs out to allure Her mate to her green bower at night." That this theory is not altogether fanciful, has been proved; for "Olivier frequently caught the males, by holding the females in the palm of his hand."* The light perhaps serves some important purpose in the economy of the glow-worm ; for it has been noticed before the insect has assumed its perfect form, and while it was yet in the nympha y and even in the larva state. In that admirable " Introduction to Entomology," to which I have on more than one occasion already referred, I find the following passage relative to the insect now under consideration : — "If, living like me in a district where it is rarely met with, the first time you saw this insect chanced to be, as it was in my case, one of those delightful evenings which an English summer seldom yields, when not a breeze disturbs the balmy air, and " every sense is joy," and hundreds of these radiant worms, studding their mossy couch with mild effulgence, were pre- * Entomologia Edinensis, p. 206. NOT FOUND IN IRELAND. 89 sented to your wondering eye in the course of a quarter of a mile, you could not help associating with the name of glow-worm the most pleasing recol- lections." * The glow-worm is not found in this neighbour- hood ; nor, so far as I have heard, has it yet been noticed in any part of Ireland. The first and only time I met with it, was in Scotland, towards the end of the summer of 1824, and amid circumstances very different from those described. With three friends, I had started at an early hour from the vicinity of Loch Katrine, walked over to the " Clachan o' Aberfoil," and sauntered along the romantic shores of Loch Ard, places which the pen of Sir Walter Scott has converted into classic ground. Delighted with the picturesque grandeur of the scenery, we neglected to note the "fleeting hours of time," and found our- selves, before we had gained the western side of Ben Lomond, benighted and without a guide. The morass abounded with deep fissures, which it required the utmost circumspection to avoid. Weary, hungry, and fearing every moment the result of some un- lucky step, we descended the mountain. It was now eleven o'clock, and part of the descent yet remained to be accomplished ; when all at once, on a shelving * Kirby and Spence, vol. ii. p. 410. 90 FOUND ON BEN LOMOND. rock and on the adjoining heather, we saw for the first time the '■' mild effulgence" of the glow-worm. No one exclaimed with Evans, " Twenty glow-worms shall our lanthorns be ;" but the mind of each was roused by a new and interesting object : we felt pleased, cheered, invigorated, — pushed on with reno- vated spirit, and about midnight reached the little inn of Rowardennan. Let me now transport you by my " so potent art," from the shores of Loch Lomond to the bank of some murmuring rivulet, where " He makes sweet music with the enamell'd stones, Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge He overtaketh in his pilgrimage ; " (Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act. II. Sc. VII.) and while you stray along the margin, and watch the streamlet, as " by many winding nooks he strays, With willing sport to the wild ocean;" let me beg your attention to some of the insects which sport upon the surface of the calm and quiet pools where it reposes in its course, and ask you in the words of Hamlet, " Dost know this water-fly?" You will find on a second glance that they are not all of the same kind, and that some of them belong WATER-FLY OF SHAKSPEARE. 91 to the order Coleoptera. They are beetles less in size than those we have been considering, and dwelling not on the land, but in the water. On a sunny day, they may be seen on almost every pool, gliding with ease and rapidity in ceaseless circles, dimpling the glassy surface of the water, diving when disturbed, and carrying down with them a bubble of air shining like quicksilver. It would be difficult to say why Shakspeare uses the word water- fly as a term of reproach, and still more so, to ascer- tain if this little whirlwig was the insect alluded to. One of my fellow members has suggested that the ephemeras may be meant, as they fling off their pupa case with extreme rapidity, assume a new form, and exist for so brief an interval. But this conjecture, although ingenious, would scarcely be applicable to the passage in "Troilus and Cressida," " Ah ! how the poor world is pestered with such waterflies, diminu- tives of nature ! "—Act V. Sc. I. Nor would it agree with the manner in which the word is employed by Cleopatra, who, indeed, uses one term, now restricted to the flesh flies : — " Rather on Nilus' mud " Lay me stark naked, and let water-flies Blow me into abhorring." Antony and Cleopatra, Act V. Sc. III. 92 VARIOUS SPECIES Another of our members lias supposed, with greater probability, that the Poet referred to some of the smaller gnats, whose dimensions and habits of annoy- ance would alike be legitimate subjects of allusion, in the mouth of Thersites, that " crusty botch of na- ture." If, however, it will not be admitted, that in- sects which pass their first stages in the waters are those alluded to, but that those only can be meant who are found there in their perfect state, the Gyrinus may be the one, although I can scarcely see in what way so frolicsome a little fellow can be branded with the term " pestered." It is possible, however, for none of the water insects seem to be more generally known. Mr. Knapp has justly remarked, "This plain, tiny, gliding water-flea, seems a very unlikely creature to arrest our young attention ; but the boy with his angle has not often much to engage his notice ; and the social, active parties of this nimble swimmer, presenting themselves at these periods of vacancy, become insensibly familiar to his sight, and by many of us are not observed in after-life, without recalling former hours."* I may, therefore, be justifiable in introducing to your notice this very amusing little insect, the Gyrinus natator, whose social little parties can scarcely be regarded without pleasure. It was * Journal of a Naturalist, p. 318, 3rd ed. OF GYRINUS. 9 3 my good fortune, on one occasion, to observe an in- dividual of a different species in an unusual situa- tion — the inhabitant of a freshwater shell (Limneus pereger). When the shell was taken out of the pool, its mouth was filled with what appeared a mass of clay, but proved to be a fragment of some aquatic plant of suitable length, the space between it and the margin of the aperture being filled with slime. The interior of this mass was lined with a soft, whitish, silky substance, which extended to the edge of the aperture. The " hollow-wreathed chamber" of the shell was occupied by a living indi- vidual of Gyrinus villosus, an insect which, I believe, had not previously been taken in this neighbourhood. Its habits are solitary, being the very reverse of those of its merry little congener, the Gyrinus natator. Your observation would, perhaps, ascertain if those species undergo their transformation in different situ- ations, — if the one is always to be found beneath the water, while the cocoon of the other is suspended to the stem of some aquatic plant. Or you could, perhaps, prove, that in the present instance the in- sect, when about to undergo its transformation, had probably taken advantage of an empty shell which chance had thrown in its way, and had thus been saved the trouble of constructing the customary 94 ADAPTATION TO CIRCUMSTANCES. cocoon. Should this be so, it would furnish an in- teresting instance of that adaptation to circumstances which " man, proud man," is apt to regard as the concomitant and characteristic of reason alone, and would show that in the deviations of instinct, no lesr than in its ordinary operations, we may trace an Unseen Hand. fe^ ** m* ml " Her waggon spokes made of long spinner's legs The cover of the wings of grasshoppers. The traces of the smallest spider's web. The collars of the moonshine's "watery beams. Her whip of cricket's bone." P.OMEO 4KB JULIET, t Such is the description of Queen Mab's equipage, a description now quoted, as in it the two insects which form the subject of my present letter, are both casually mentioned. The Grasshopper and the Cricket, for it is to those I allude, belong to tbe order Orthoptera. Both are insects known to every one by the sense of hearing, as well as that of sight. They 96 NOTICES OF THE GRASSHOPPER. are not regarded with aversion, like some of the beetle tribe ; but are looked upon with feelings of forbearance, if not of kindliness, by all who have listened to their song. I have not, therefore, to be- speak your indulgence, while I transcribe from my note-book " the trivial fond records" relative to these insects, "That youth and observation copied there." The grasshopper is a universal favourite ; " He is an evening reveller, who makes His life an infancy, and sings his fill ;" and the ease of his movements, the extent of his spring, the variety of his colours, and the attractive nature of the objects among which he is found, all tend to increase his popularity. His song and his activity have both been noticed by Hogg, and intro- duced with pleasing effect in one of his minor poems, the Address to a Wild Deer : — " Elate on the fern branch the grasshopper sings, And away in the midst of his roundelay springs." Wordsworth has not passed unheeded the "jocund voice Of insects chirping out their careless lives On these soft beds of thyme-besprinkled turf." But I shall not at present dwell on these poetic sketches ; and as the cricket is an inhabitant of our CRICKETS HARBINGERS OF GOOD. 97 houses, while the grasshopper is a dweller out of doors, I shall principally confine my observations to the former insect (Acheta domestica Lin.), and to others of the same genus. In this part of the country, it is a common belief that the appearance of crickets in a house is a good omen, and prognosticates cheerfulness and plenty. That this opinion is generally entertained, may be inferred from the manner in which it has been em- bodied by Cowper, in his Address to the Cricket " Chirping on his kitchen hearth. " His words are, — " Wheresoe'er be thine abode, Always harbinger of good." * '-' There needs no ghost from the grave, to tell us" that the error is a very common one, which attributes the actions of many of the inferior animals not to causes actually in operation, but to " coming events," which thus "cast their shadows before," and of ' which these actions are the certain forerunners. Yet the notion, although prevalent, is altogether un- founded, and is opposed to every thing which either reason or observation teaches us concerning their habits. When swallows fly low, skimming along the ground or water, they are said to foretell a change * Translated from Vincent Browne. H 98 ERROR OF THE POPULAR NOTION. of weather : but the fact is, the change has at that time commenced. Swallows feed upon insects, and alter their flight according to the different situations of their prey. Insects, in common with many of the inferior animals, appear to possess a nice percep- tion of changes in the atmosphere, which our feelings are not sufficiently sensitive to detect. They feel the change, and they act on that feeling. We do not feel it ; and are hence led into the error of sup- posing that their actions prognosticate a "coming event," when, in truth, they denote the existence of a series of meteoric phenomena, which has not only commenced, but is then actually in operation. To apply this remark to the subject under consideration — crickets take great delight in the warmth of a kitchen hearth, and they feast on yeast, crumbs of bread, milk, gravy, and all the waste and refuse of the fire- side. Their presence, therefore, does not denote that plenty is to come, but that it already exists, and they should, consequently, be regarded as the attendants, not as the harbingers, of comfort and abundance. Their domicile about our kitchen hearth is not always unaccompanied by damage ; for occasionally they gnaw holes in clothes which may be drying at the fire. This is done, not to revenge, as is commonly said, the injuries which the proprietor of these clothes has inflicted upon their tribe, but to gratify their thirsty THE CRICKET S MIRTHFUL CHIRP. 99 palates with the moisture which the clothes at that time contain. To most people, the chirp of the cricket is, as Cowper has aptly expressed it, " full of mirth," and conveys to the mind the idea of a perfectly happy being. Thus, Poins in reply to the Prince's ques- tion — " Shall we be merry," makes use of this simile, " as merry as crickets." The learned Scaliger took such a fancy to their song, that he was accustomed to keep them in a box in his study. The Spaniards, we are told by Osbeck, confine some insects of an allied genus in cages, for the sake of their song.* "It is reported, that in some parts of Africa the common house crickets are kept and fed in a kind of iron oven, and sold to the natives, who like their chirp, and consider it a great soporific." f In our own country, they have been repeatedly noticed by those poets who describe things which they themselves have seen or heard, and particularly as connected with cheerfulness and mirth. Thus, Rogers, in his delightful poem of "Italy," addressing a being conceived by nature in " her merriest mood, her happiest," adds, " At thy birth the cricket chirp'd, Luigi, Thine a perpetual voice, at every turn A lanim to the echo." * Osbeck's Voy. i. 71, quoted by Kirby and Spence, vol. ii. p. 401. t Mouffet, Theatrum Insect. 136, (quoted in Insect Mis. p. 82.) H 2 100 POETICAL NOTICES Cowper, if his own opinion coincides with that of Bourne, from whom he translates, did not deem it unworthy of " Such a song as lie could give;" and considers it superior to the grasshopper : — "Thou surpassest, happier far, Happiest grasshoppers that are ; Their's is but a summer song, Thine endures the winter long, Unimpair'd, and shrill and clear, Melody throughout the year." Yet Milton did not consider this mirth inconsistent with contemplation ; for " il Penseroso" desires to be " Far from all resort of mirth, Save the cricket on the hearth." It is remarkable that, notwithstanding the accord- ance, thus generally admitted, of the chirp of the cricket with gaiety and mirth, it is occasionally em- ployed by our poets in scenes of a completely oppo- site character. Its fitness for such scenes may be inferred from the manner in which it is introduced in Wharton's " Pleasures of Melancholy" : — " Far remote From mirth's mad shouts, that through the illumined roof Resound with festive echo, let me sit, Blest with the lowly cricket's drowsy dirge." Lady Macbeth, in replying to the question of her husband after the murder of Duncan, says — "I heard the owls scream, and the crickets cry." OF THE CRICKET. 101 In the play of " Cymbeline," where, at midnight, Iachimo commences his survey of the chamber where Imogen lies sleeping, his first words refer to the chirping of crickets, rendered audible by the repose which at that moment prevailed throughout the palace : — " The crickets sing, and man's o'er-labour'd sense Repairs itself by rest."— Act II. f>c. II. And in Hogg's " Pilgrims of the Sun," " the cricket's call" is introduced into one of the most solemn pas- sages in the poem — the part where Mary, in her shroud and funeral vestment, returns to Carelha. ; A dim haze shrouded every sight, Each hair had life, and stood upright ; No sound was heard throughout the hall, Cut the beat of the heart, and the cricket's call.' But the song of the cricket has done more than supply material to the poet for heightening the effect of his mirthful or his tragic scenes. On one occa- sion, if we may credit the historian, the song of an insect of this genus was the means of saving a vessel from shipwreck. The incident evinces the perilous situation of Cabeza de Vara, in his voyage towards Brazil, and is related by Dr. Southey in his history of that country ; — " When they had crossed the Line, the state of the 102 SHIPWRECK AVERTEU BY IT. water was inquired into, and it was found, that of a hundred casks there remained but three, to supply four hundred men and thirty horses. Upon this, the Adelantado gave orders to make the nearest land. Three days they stood towards it. A soldier, who set out in ill health, had brought a grillo, or ground- cricket, with him from Cadiz, thinking to be amused by the insect's voice; but it had been silent the whole way, to his no little disappointment. Now, on the fourth morning, the grillo began to sing its shrill rattle, scenting, as was immediately supposed, the land. Such was the miserable watch which had been kept, that upon looking out at the warning, they perceived high rocks within bow- shot ; against which, had it not been for the insect, they must in- evitably have been lost. They had just time to drop anchor. From hence they coasted along, the grillo singing every night, as if it had been on shore, till they reached the island of St. Catalina."* The cricket does not pass its entire existence about our hearths. Like other denizens of the town, it delights occasionally to take an excursion during the summer, and at such times may be heard singing its vesper song in company with another species, which is always a denizen of the fields (Acheta cam- pestris). The Rev. Gilbert White, in his delightful * " Penny Magazine," November 3, 1832. ITS SHYNESS. 103 " Natural History of Selbome," has made both species the subject of some observations, written, in that pleasing and unostentatious spirit by which all his writings are pervaded : — " Sounds do not always give us pleasure according to their sweetness and melody, nor do harsh sounds always displease." We are more apt to be captivated or disgusted with the associations which they promote, than with the notes themselves. " Thus, the shrilling of the field- cricket, though sharp and stridulous, yet marvellously delights some hearers, filling their minds with a train of sum- mer ideas, of every thing that is rural, verdurous, and joyous." * The same author remarks, " they are so shy and cautious, it is no easy matter to get a sight of them ; for, feeling a person's footsteps as he advances, they stop short in the midst of their song, and retire backward nimbly into their burrows, where they lurk until all suspicion of danger is over." It is not, however, the " feeling" of an approach- ing step, indicated by the vibratory motion of the ground, which alone possesses the power of stilling their chirping : any tolerably loud sound will produce a similar effect. This fact has been established by modern observations on the habits of insects ; but as it has been recorded by the Ettrick Shepherd, in his * Page 349, ed. 1837. 104 AMUSING EXPERIMENT UPON IT. romantic tale of Mary Scott, I shall give his verses precedence, on the principle mentioned by Tasso — " clie '1 vero condito in molli versi I piu schieri allettando ha persuaso." " The warder lists with fear and dread For distant shout of fray begun ; The cricket tunes his tiny reed, And harps behind the embers dun. " Why does the warder bend his head, And silent stand the casement near? The cricket stops his little reed, The sound of gentle step to hear." One example may perhaps be deemed sufficient to show that the circumstance mentioned at the con- clusion of the last verse is correct. " Brunelli, an Italian naturalist, kept several of the field-crickets in a chamber. They continued their crinking song through the whole day ; but the moment they heard a knock at the door, they were silent. He subse- quently invented a method of imitating their sounds, and when he did so outside the door, at first a few would venture upon a soft whisper, and by and bye, the whole party burst out in chorus to answer him ; but upon repeating the rap at the door, they instantly stopped again, as if alarmed. He likewise confined a male in one side of his garden, while he put a female in the other at liberty, which began to leap as soon as she heard the crink of the male, and imme- MANNER OF PRODUCING ITS NOTE. 105 diately came to him, — an experiment which he fre- quently repeated with the same result." * Those facts show that Linnseus and Bonnet were incorrect in denying that insects can hear at all ; and that Shakspeare has evinced his usual accuracy of discrimination, when he says, in the "Winter's Tale," " I will tell it softly; Yon crickets shall not hear me." Act II. Sc. I. After so many quotations descriptive of the song of the cricket, shall I be credited when I state, that he has no song, in our acceptation of the term, — that is, no peculiar note, produced, like the human voice, or the song of birds, by the modulation of vocal organs, or by air expelled from the mouth ? And yet, the chirp of the cricket, the drowsy hum of the beetle, the buzzing of the fly, the humming of the bee, are all sounds produced without, what may be properly termed, voice. In the beetle, they are probably caused by the friction of the wing-cases (elytra) at the base of the wings, throwing them into a strong vibratory motion. Some species of grasshoppers effect a similar object, by rubbing the elytra with the right and left legs * Comment. Instit. Bonon., vii. 199, &c. apud Lehmann. Quoted by Rennie, Insect Miscellanies, p. 77. 106 MENTIONED IN HOLY WRIT. alternately ; and the loudness of the sound is aug- mented by a deep cavity on each side of the body, in which there is a drum, or little membrane, in a state of tension. In the cricket, the apparatus con- sists of strong nervures or rough strings in the wing- cases, by the friction of which against each other a sound is produced, and communicated to the mem- branes stretched between them. The males only are gifted with these musical powers, and as the little areolets into which their wing-cases are divided are larger than those in the female, they present, under the microscope, an interesting subject for observation. To you, my dear friend, I shall not attempt to enumerate the various passages scattered throughout the Holy Scriptures, in which grasshoppers are men- tioned. I shall only remind you of the fact, that these insects, along with locusts and beetles, are among the animals allowed to be eaten under the Mosaical dispensation. The words in which the permission is conveyed are striking to the Entomo- logist, as showing that three species of insects belong- ing to the order (Orthoptera) now under consider- ation, were recognized as distinct. The words occur in Leviticus (chap. xi. ver. 20 — 23.) " 20. All fowls that creep, going upon all four, shall be an abomi- nation unto you. BRITISH SPECIES OF THE LOCUST. 107 " 21. Yet these may ye eat, of every flying, creeping- thing which goeth upon all four, which have legs above their feet, to leap withal upon the earth. " 22. Even these of them may ye eat. The locust after his kind, and the bald locust after his kind, and the beetle after his kind, and the grasshopper after his kind. " 23. But all other flying things which have four feet shall be an abomination unto you." To the insect emphatically distinguished as the locust, and whose ravages have been among the most awful visitations of other lands, I find no allu- sion throughout the Dramatic "Works of Shakspeare. In fact, the word "locust" occurs but once, and then is introduced in such a manner as to show it is the vegetable production that is meant. " Fill thy purse with money," says Iago to Roderigo; " the food that to him now is as luscious as locusts, shall be to him shortly as bitter as coloquintida." As, in these countries, we happily enjoy an ex- emption from the devastation occasioned by these insects, you will, perhaps, not be prepared to expect, that twenty-three species of locust are now enume- rated as British. The last specimen which I believe has been recorded,* is one which was exhibited at a meeting of our society, and was captured by Miss Ball, at Ardmore, county of "Waterford, Sept. 1835. It was of a species first described by Mr. Curtis, and named Locusta Christii, after Wm. Christy, esq., by * Curtis's Illustrations of British Entomology, Aug. 1836, p. 608. 108 THE CRICKET NOT PUGNACIOUS. whom it had been taken in a garden near London, in July, 1826. Grasshoppers do not when in a state of freedom appear to attack their own kindred, although they do so when they are confined together. Being desirous of ascertaining if a similar propensity prevailed among crickets, I took four, and confined them for eighteen hours without food, yet no one among them inflicted the slightest injury on his fellow-pri- soners. I gave them their freedom ; and on the succeeding day took six others, differing very much Blatta orientalis, Male and Female. in apparent size and strength, and kept them in 'a glass for forty hours, yet the same result precisely STRUCTURE OF ITS FOOT. 109 took place. To put the question of their cannibalism to a still more conclusive test, I next took two crickets and two cockroaches (Blatta orientalis), and confined them for eighty hours in a similar manner ; at the expiration of that period they were all living and active, and had not suffered from any attack on each other. During the time these unfortunate crickets were in confinement, I observed that they repeatedly tried to climb up the sides of the glass, but always in vain, falling backwards at each successive attempt. This appeared to me singular, as I had watched a grasshopper (Locusta grossa) walking up the glass pane of a window, and I knew no reason why crickets should not be able to do the same. But to reason from analogy, is a very uncertain mode of arriving at just conclusions in Natural History. I believe it is Dr. Fleming who remarks, that no person from seeing the fallow-deer feeding on graminivorous plants, could ever have imagined from analogy, that the reindeer fed upon a lichen. The conclusion I drew respecting the cricket, was as erroneous as the analogical inference in the other case would have been, and it showed me the propriety of subjecting every thing relating to the economy of insects to the test of personal observation, so far as circumstances will permit of our doing so. On examining, there- 110 THE TETTIX. fore, with a microscope, the foot of the cricket, to ascertain if in this respect there was any difference in structure, I found it perfectly smooth, and ter- minating in a double book ; but that of the grass- hopper was not only furnished with a hook, but likewise with three cushions or suckers. This form- ation enables us to explain how it takes hold of the stems of grass when it springs, and also how its hold is retained. In such a situation, it has attracted the eye of the poet already quoted, and been thus described : — " The grasshopper sits idle on the stalk With folded pinions, and forgets to sing." Before quitting this part of my subject, I may mention, that the insect so celebrated by the Grecian bards, under the name Tettix, is not a grasshopper, as the word is commonly translated, but belongs to a totally different order (Homoptera) . With the pecu- liar covering in which one insect of this order is at a certain period enveloped, you are doubtless familiar. I allude to the little frothy appearance so frequently seen on plants during the summer months, and known by the common appellation of cuckoo-spit. It is an exudation proceeding from the larva of Tettigonia spumaria, which by this contrivance obtains, at the same time, concealment from its various enemies, and protection from the vicissitudes of weather. ESTEEMED BY THE ATHENIANS. Ill Of the musical cicadas, one species has been dis- covered in England. Like its classic congener, it be- longs to the same family as the clamorous catydids of North America, and is distinguished in Entomo- logy by the term Cicada, the very word which is em- ployed by Virgil, — " Cantu querulae rumpent arbusta cicadae. "—Geor. III. 328. The conclusion of Byron's notice of the grass- hopper, while he chirps " one good-night carol more," has been already quoted ; that of the cicada should likewise be brought before you, to show the accuracy with which he has distinguished the one insect from the other : — " The shrill cicadas, people of the pine, Making their summer lives one ceaseless song." The Athenians, as you are aware, wore in their hair golden images of this insect. To excel it in singing, was the highest commendation of a singer ; nor was it considered derogatory to the orator to be compared to the cicada. Instead, however, of any longer bestowing " my tediousness upon you," I shall reward your present attention by transmitting a very spirited Ode of Anacreon, addressed to this insect, and which has been very happily translated : — " Happy Cicada, perch'd on lofty branches, Deep in the forest, cheerful as a monarch, Tasting the dew-drops, making all the mountains Echo thy chirping. 112 ODE OF ANACREON TO IT. " Thine is each treasure that the earth produces ; Thine is the freshness of each field and forest ; Thine are the fruits, and thine are all the flowers, Balmy spring scatters. " Husbandmen fondly dote upon thy friendship, Knowing thee guiltless of a thought to harm them. Thee, mortals honour, sweet and tuneful songster, Prophet of summer. " Thee, all the Muses hail a kindred being ; Thee, great Apollo owns a dear companion : Oh ! it was he who gave that note of gladness, Wearisome never. " Song-skilful, earth-born, mirth and music loving ; Fairy-like being, free from age and suffering ; Passionless, and pure from earth's defilement, Almost a spirit. " Drunk with the dew-drop, perch'd on twig so lofty, Noisy Cicada, o'er the wild wave sounding, Saw-like the feet which to thy side thou pressest, Drawing sweet music." * * Entomological Magazine. r>- e «*8« ' They have a king and officers of sorts. Where some, like magistrates, correct at home Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad. In addressing these letters to you, my object is not to eulogise the writings of Shakspeare, but to bring before you the habits of such insects as he has named ; at least, so far as may be necessary for the elucidation of the passages in which they occur. Justly does he remark — " "Tis seldom -when the bee doth leave her comb In the dead carrion ;"— (Second Part Hen. IV., Act. IV. Sc. IV.) an observation which will naturally recall to your mind the passage in which we learn from the Scrip-. i 114 SWARMING OF BEES. ture, that Samson found " a swarm of bees and honey in the carcase of the lion." But, seldom as any thing of the kind does occur in this kingdom, it did happen on one occasion in the county of Down, if some species of wasp has not been mistaken for bees. The fact is rcorded in the following words, extracted from the Belfast News Letter, of Friday, 10th August, 1832 :— " A few days ago, when the sexton was digging a grave in Temple Cranney (a burying-place in Porta- ferry), he came to a coffin which had been there two or three years : this he thought necessary to remove, to make room for the corpse about to be interred. In this operation, he was startled by a great quantity of wild bees issuing forth from the coffin, and upon lifting the lid, it was found that they had formed their combs in the dead man's skull and mouth, which were full. The nest was made of the hair of the head, together with shavings that had been put in the coffin with the corpse." Every hive contains a queen, drones, and workers ; of these different kinds, Shakspeare seems cognizant. Thus the lines-^- "Like stinging bees in hottest summer's day, Led by their master to the flowered fields"— (Titus Andronicus, Act V. Sc. I.) recognize the first : " Drones hive not with me," the second ; and any of the numerous passages THE QUEEN BEE. 115 describing their labours, show his knowledge of the third. " So work the honey bees ; Creatures, that, by a rule in nature, teach The art of order to a peopled kingdom. They have a king- and officers of sorts, Where some, like magistrates, correct at home ; Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad; Others, bike soldiers, armed in their stings, Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds, Which pillage they with merry march bring home To the tent royal of their emperor ; Who, busied in his majesty, surveys The singing masons building roofs of gold ; The civil citizens kneading up the honey ; The poor mechanic porters crowding in Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate ; The sad-eyed justice, with his surly hum, Delivering o'er to executors pale The lazy yawning drone." — Henry V., Act I. Sc. II. Such is the splendid description given by Shaks- peare of the economy of a bee-hive, — a description poetical in the highest degree, and pleasing alike to the ear and the imagination. In it, without apparent effort, we have a rich and glowing picture. The artist, with his accustomed skill, has " o'erstepped not the modesty of nature ;" and yet the simile is sustained, animated, and vigorous throughout. It is the queen bee, you are aware, that seems to regulate the industry and preserve the equilibrium of the denizens of the hive ; and to her, Shakspeare, like the ancients, invariably applies a male epithet. When by any accident she is destroyed, the social, i2 116 THE DRONES. compact appears for a time to be dissolved, anarchy and disorder succeed to the former regular and systematic exertion, and a strange and fiery excite- ment pervades the population. Most correctly, there- fore, does Shakspeare introduce the comparison, " The commons, like a hive of angry bees That want their leader, scatter up and down." Second Part Henry IV., Act III. Sc. II. The drones, it is now well known, are the males of the community, destroyed by the workers when no longer required ; but preserved uninjured while the welfare of the hive requires the continuance of their existence. It is, perhaps, to the slaughter of the drones, which takes place towards the end of sum- mer, that the Poet alludes in the figurative expression, "The sad-eyed justice, with his surly hum, Delivering o'er to executors pale The lazy yawning drone." There is nothing in the writings of Shakspeare to imply that he was aware of the precise nature of the functions of the drone-bees ; nay, on one occasion, he introduces the word " drone" in a manner that must be regarded as incorrect : — " Drones suck not eagle's blood, but rob bee-hives ; " (Second Part Henry VI., Act IV. Sc. I.) the robbery being a crime of which they cannot be accused, although it may justly be charged against HUMMING OF THE BEE. 117 wasps, with whom they have, perhaps, in this pas- sage, been confounded. Milton's notice is not per- fectly accurate either ; for he throws the feeding of the drones, and the forming of the cells, on the queen, and not on the workers ; or, if he mean the working bee, the term "husband" is inapplicable. " Swarming, next appeared The female bee, that feeds her husband drone Deliriously, and builds her waxen cell With honey stored."— Par. Lost, Book VII. The immortal author of "Paradise Lost" has in another passage, without derogating from the gran- deur or beauty of his theme, sung " how the bee, Sits on the bloom, extracting liquid sweet." Perhaps nothing can convey a better idea of the joyous feelings connected with the humming of the bee, than the fact that it is mentioned by so many of our British poets — introduced amid their finest pro- ductions, and connected with the beauty and the exuberance of summer. " Hark ! the bee winds her small, but mellow horn, Blithe to salute the sunny smile of morn ;" is the description given by Rogers. " The sycamore, all musical with bees," is the harmonious line of Coleridge. It is introduced as a simile in Hogg's " Pilgrims of the Sun :" — 118 POETICAL NOTICES OF IT. " As they pass'd by The angels paused, and saints that lay reposed In bowers of Paradise, upraised their heads To list the passing music, for it went Swift as the wild bee's note, that on the wing Booms like unbodied voice along the gale." In the sweet and artless poem, by Wilson, of "Bessie Bell and Mary Gray," it is thus noticed : — "And from the hidden flowers, a song Of bees in a happy multitude, All busy in that solitude." Milton, in his " Penseroso," has connected the hum of the bee with the murmuring of the waters : — Hide me from day's garish eye, While the bee with honied thigh, That at her flowery work doth sing, And the waters murmuring, With such concert as they keep, Entice the dewy-feather'd sleep." In the enumeration of the " melodies of morn," in Beattie's " Minstrel," the picturesque image of "The wild brook babbling down the mountain side," does not impart greater pleasure to the mind, than the more humble objects in another line, — "The hum of bees, the linnet's lay of love." In one of Byron's stanzas, in which the poet has grouped together a collection of pleasing objects and of simple sounds, which neither in beauty nor variety THE "BAG 0' THE BEE." 119 have ever been surpassed, he thus concludes the verse : — " Sweet the hum' Of bees, the voice of girls, the song of birds, The lisp of children, and their earliest words." Shakspeare's knowledge of bees does not seem to have been limited to the three kinds which consti- tute the "buzzing pleased multitude" found in our bee-hives ; he has noticed those which are solitary in their habits, as well as those which are social. Thus we find in " All's Well that Ends Well," "red-tailed humble-bee," a kind which nidificates among heaps of stones. The humble-bee is introduced on another occasion, when Bottom, in the " Midsummer Night's Dream," is giving orders to his fairy attendants. The playful and sportive fancy which reigns in these commands is inimitable; and the diminutive stature of Cobweb is well indicated by the fear that he should be " overflown with a honey bag." Haz- litt was so well pleased with the passage, that in his " Characters of Shakspeare's Plays," he quotes the commencement of it, and remarks, with a note of admiration, " What an exact knowledge of Natural History is here shown ; " although every boy who has spent his summer holidays in the country, is well acquainted with the " bag o' the bee. " This bag is, in fact, the first stomach of the insect. Into 120 PRODUCTS OF ITS LABOURS. it the liquid honey which is collected by the tongue flows, after passing through the mouth and oesopha- gus. It is a membranous receptacle, capable of con- siderable distension, and exhibiting a different aspect, according to the quantity it contains of that saccharine fluid, which is there converted into honey. Next to " the bag o' the bee," I may naturally notice the products derived from the labours of the same insect. These are principally wax and honey ; both of which are mentioned by Shakspeare. The former is brought forward as being the material em- ployed for the sealing, not of letters only, but of bonds and other legal instruments. Thus Cade, after having declared that he will " make it felony to drink small beer," and announced his intentions rela- tive to other legislative enactments of a correspond- ing character, proceeds in a strain admirably illustra- tive of the man : — " Is not this a lamentable thing, that the skin of an innocent lamb should be made of parchment, and that parchment being scribbled o'er, should undo a man. Some say the bee stings ; but I say 'tis the bee's wax : for I did but seal once to a thing, and I was never my own man since."— Second Part Henry VI., Act IV. Sc. II. When Edgar has overcome the steward of Goneril, he takes from his pockets the letters confided to his charge ; and as he breaks the seal, he justifies to himself the act he is committing : — bee's- WAX. 121 " Leave, gentle wax, and manners, blame us not ; To know our enemies' minds, we 'd rip their hearts ; Their papers are more lawful."— Lear, Act IV. Sc. VI. It is again mentioned, -when Imogen, the fond and faithful Imogen, receives a letter from her lord Leo- natus ; her words are — " Good wax, thy leave,— blest be Yon bees, that make these locks of counsel ! Lovers And men in dangerous bonds pray not alike ; Though forfeiters you cast in prison yet, You clasp young Cupid's tables." Cymbeline, Act III. Sc. II. You are of course aware, that the sealing-wax we now employ consists of lac and resin, combined with some suitable pigment for giving it the desired colour. This lac is itself an insect product, being secreted by a species of coccus common in the East Indies. No portion of bees'-wax enters into the composition of the material now used for sealing letters ; but that it may at a former period have been so used, I will not presume to deny. At present, it forms the principal ingredient of the soft and colourless wax attached to letters patent under the Great Seal, or to charters of corporations, and public documents of a similar character ; but " the lover, sighing like furnace," never confides his sorrows to the custody of the bee's wax. The researches of modern times have ascertained 122 OBSERVATIONS OF HUBER. a remarkable fact relative to the formation of this substance, namely, that it is secreted by bees differ- ent from those which attend to the feeding of the young ; or, in other words, the working bees, which were formerly supposed to be all alike, may be divided into two classes, — wax- workers and nurses. For our knowledge on this subject, we are princi- pally indebted to the observations of a blind man, the elder Huber, who made the study of bees the occupation and solace of many years of visual dark- ness. This he was enabled to do by the untiring at- tention of his wife, who faithfully recounted the phenomena which glass hives, variously constructed, enabled her to witness. He saw by means of her eyes, and in his experiments, he was assisted by a patient investigator, M. Burnens. From Huber we learn that wax is not collected from flowers, as was formerly supposed, but is secreted by the wax- work- ers by means of peculiar organs, which may easily be seen, by pressing the abdomen so as to cause its dis- tension. It is not, however, a secretion that is con- stantly going on ; it is one which takes place only when wax is required for the construction of the comb. To supply it, the wax- workers are obliged to feed on honey, and to remain inactive, generally sus- pended from the top of the hive, for about twenty- four hours previous to the deposition of the wax. HOXEY. 123 What we read, therefore, of the bee collecting wax and carrying it to the hive, is fabulous. The error originated in the pollen with which bees are so fre- quently laden, and which forms the bee bread of the community, being mistaken for two little pellets of wax, which the industrious insect was supposed to have gathered. Shakspeare, as might be expected, has adopted the universal, though incorrect, opinion of his day. In the line, therefore, " Our thighs are pack'd with wax"— we recognize one of those instances, where the knowledge of the present time can be contrasted ad- vantageously with that of the past. The word "honey" is of frequent occurrence. When, in the English camp at Agincourt, King Henry the Fifth, after the just and profound re- flection — " There is some soul of goodness in things evil, Would men observingly distil it out ;"— illustrates his meaning still further, by the observa- tion — : Thus we may gather honey from the weed." Act IV. Sc. I. When Friar Lawrence is waiting in his cell, for the arrival of Juliet, and is endeavouring to control the 124 FREQUENTLY MENTIONED BY SHAKSPEARE. transport of the expecting Romeo, he well re- marks, — "These violent delights have violent ends ; " and adds — " the sweetest honey Is loathsome in his own deliciousness, And in the taste confounds the appetite ; Therefore, love moderately."— Act II. Sc. V. But in general, the word is used metaphorically, not literally. Thus Norfolk, in speaking of Cardinal Wolsey, says, — " the king hath found Matter against him, that for ever mars The honey of his language." Henri/ VIIL, Act III. Sc. II. And in the scene where Ophelia has borne the strange and ungentle language of Hamlet, " get thee to a nunnery," after her first thought, with all a woman's fondness, has been given to his mental aberration: — "O ! what a noble mind is here o'erthrown ; " she deplores her own condition, in the words, — " And I of ladies most abject and wretched, That suck'd the honey of his music vows. " Act III. Sc. II. In the same manner the word is employed by Romeo, on his descent into the monument where lies the " living corse " of the " fair Juliet." " O my love ! my wife ! Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath, Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty."— Act V. Sc. III. SYMMETRY OF THE HONEY- COMB. 125 Not content with using the word both in a literal and in a metaphorical sense, the Poet has interwoven it into several endearing epithets, as "honey love;" " honey nurse," &c. ; and in " Julius Caesar," the still more euphonious expression, — " Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber. "— Act II. Sc. I. The admirable symmetry and regularity of the combs have, no doubt, attracted your attention ; but perhaps you are not aware, that their form is almost that which a mathematician would select to combine the greatest extent of accommodation and greatest strength, with the smallest expenditure of material. The cells are arranged so close together, and in a manner so skilful, that no space is lost between them. The knowledge of the fact, that there are no vacant spaces between the cells, gives increased effect to the words of Prospero, when he replies to the imprecations of Caliban : — " Thou shalt be pinch'd As thick as honey-combs : each pinch more stinging Than bees that made 'em." Tempest, Act I. Sc. II. This passage refers to a fact in the economy of bees, which I have not yet noticed : I mean their power of stinging. Of this fact, almost every one has, 126 STING OF THE BEE. at some time or other, had painful experience. Shakspeare says — " Full merrily the humble bee doth sing, Till she hath lost her honey and her sting;"— (Troilus and Cressida, Act V. Sc. XI.) a couplet which leads us to infer that the Poet was well aware of these insects losing their sting, by being unable to retract it from the wound they have inflicted. In the sarcasms to which Brutus and Cassius give utterance against Antony, the same topic is thus introduced : — " Cos.— The posture of your blows are yet unknown ; But for your words, they rob the Hybla bees, And leave them honeyless. Ant.— Not stingless too— Bru. — O yes, and soundless too ; For you have stol'n their buzzing, Antony, And very wisely threat before you sting." Julius Casar, Act V. Sc. I. From the numerous passages in which the bee is introduced, we might almost be warranted in supposing that this insect was a favourite with Shakspeare. It has certainly furnished him with numerous similes, and what is rather remarkable in a writer possessed of such varied powers of illustra- tion, he has caused it to be twice mentioned by King Henry the Fourth, in the course of one scene, — first, when meditating on the wild and riotous life pursued MURDER OF THESE INSECTS. 127 by the Prince ; and secondly, when he supposes that the anxiety felt by Ids son for the crown had caused its removal from his pillow. The first of these passages has been already noticed ; the second, I shall now quote : — " How quickly nature falls into revolt, When gold becomes her object. For this, the foolish over-careful fathers Have broke their sleeps with thought, their brains with care, When, like the bee, tolling from every flower The virtuous sweets, Our thighs are pack'd with wax, our mouths with honey : We bring it to the hive ; and, like the bees, Are murder'd for our pains." Second Part Henry VI., Act IV. Sc. IV. The mode in which this murder is committed, is in- dicated by Shakspeare in another passage. Talbot is giving vent to his surprise and vexation at the English troops being repulsed by Joan of Arc : — " As bees with smoke, and doves with noisome stench, Are from their hives and houses driven away." First Part Henry VI., Act I. Sc. V. In Thomson's " Autumn," we have a detailed account of the process. The hive has been " at evening snatched," and " placed o'er sulphur." "Sudden the dark oppressive steam ascends, And, used to milder scents, the tender race By thousands tumble from their honied domes, Convolved and agonizing in the dust." It is much to be regretted, that when we could so 128 PLANS FOR AVOIDING IT. easily obtain the honey of the hive-bees without de- stroying these industrious insects, the practice of put- ting them to death should still be continued. It is both cruel to the bees and injurious to the honey. The practice may easily be avoided ; for a very simple contrivance is sufficient for the purpose. Some hives, which I have seen in the garden of a friend, had a few inches taken horizontally off their summit ; over this aperture, a board was fitted, with holes for the passage of the bees, and a tin slide to close these holes when necessary. Above this, a small hive was placed : this, which could be removed at pleasure, was filled by the bees with honey of the finest kind, and the lower hive contained their winter store, and their youthful progeny. Boxes of various kinds, for the same humane object, have been invented, and are described in various works. The neatest I have seen are those belonging to my friend, Thomas Jackson, Esq., o£ this town, one of the architects under whose super- intendence our Museum was erected. A small room in the back part of his dwelling-house was appro- priated to his bees, who entered the boxes prepared for their reception by a covered passage, communi- cating with the external air by means of an aperture cut in a pane of glass for their reception. Outside of the window was a board, on which they alighted BEEHIVE IN BELFAST. 129 prior to their entrance, and which thus corresponded to " the suburb of their straw-built citadel," in the ordinary hive. As far as the eye could reach, nothing but the roofs of small houses could be seen, except where the vision was bounded and closed in by the walls of other edifices of a more lofty structure. It seemed wonderful how, amid such a multitude of houses, the bees could find then way back to the one from which they issued. The theory propounded by Rogers, in his " Pleasures of Memory," that it is by retracing " The varied scents which charm'd them as they flew," would certainly be insufficient to explain the pheno- menon. There was nothing wavering or uncertain in their homeward flight. In fact, from the moment they appeared in view, their course was in a direct line to their elevated abode, and so straight and rapid, that they resembled bodies projected by some power- ful machine. The gardens, meadows, and hedge-rows about town, no doubt, supply to these bees the materials for the prosecution of "their delicious task." " Through the soft air the busy nations fly, Cling' to the bud, and with inserted tube Suck its pure essence, its ethereal soul." Thomson'* Spring. 130 GLASS HIVES. The beach along the shores of our bay renders, per- haps, some assistance, by the salt which it affords ; for I have often seen bees on the margin of the sea, and understand, that they thrive well along the entire of the northern coast, from Belfast to the Causeway. The Cavehill, however, a mountain, which, at a dis- tance of about three miles from town, rises to the height of 1100 feet, holds out, on its heathery and uncultivated sides, richer attractions : — " And oft, with bolder wing, they soaring 1 dare The purple heath, or where the wild thyme grows, And yellow load them with the luscious spoil." Thomson'* Spring. A glass bell, placed upon the top of the bee-box, or glass hive, for I know not which is the more proper term, is soon filled with honey. The comb is remark- able for its whiteness and transparency, and the honey seems to be of the finest and purest kind. Mr. Jackson's father has several glass hives of a similar construction, at Waterford; and has, on different occasions, obtained two shillings and six- pence a pound for a glass bell and its contained honey. One bell produced, at this price, three pounds seventeen shillings and six pence ; and two others about three pounds thirteen shillings each, having been purchased by a druggist in Bristol, as a substitute for the celebrated honey of Narbonne. WILD BEES IN AMERICA. 131 It is curious how places have become famed for one production, and continue to be so, while the genera- tions of man pass away ; nay, while the very laws and institutions of the country have been overthrown. A feeble plant may thus, in its descendants, survive the "wreck of empires," for Nature is ever fresh, vigorous, and unchanged, while human monuments crumble into dust. While Greece, at the present time, " Is Greece, but living Greece no more ;" the honey of Hymettus retains all its former celebrity. Athens is no longer the abode of arts, eloquence, literature, or science, — but " still his honied wealth Hymettus yields ; There the blythe bee his fragrant fortress builds ; The free-born wanderer of the mountain air." Childe Harold, Canto II. St. 87. Washington Irving, in his " Tour on the Prairies," has given a very animated description of a bee-hunt in one of the great American forests, and states, in the following words, a remarkable opinion, which is held concerning the wild bees : — " The Indians con- sider them the harbingers of the white man ; and say, that in proportion as the bee advances, the In- dians and the buffalo retire. We are always accus- tomed to associate the hum of the bee-hive with the k 2 132 PLEASING ASSOCIATIONS. farm-house and the flower-garden, and to consider those industrious little animals as connected with the busy haunts of man ; and I am told that the wild bee is seldom to be met with at any great distance from the frontier." * In the observations respecting the bee-hive we can all perfectly concur, although writ- ten in a country differing in so many particulars from our own, and where new forms of vegetation replace the heaths and roses, among which the bees of these kingdoms delight to revel. Though the flight of the bee is at all times pleas- ing, it is especially so when, at the close of a sum- mer day, she directs her course homeward to the hive or to the nest. At that hour, when the fresh- ness of evening is in the air, and the hues of sun- set in the sky, there are many who have, with the poet, " Welcomed the wild bee home on wearied wing. Laden with sweets, the choicest of the spring'." Rogers' Pleasures of Memory, Canto I. To all such the maiden's song, when " busy day is o'er," will be fraught with peculiar charms. " Hark ! along the humming air Home the laden bees repair." Milman's Martyr ofAntioch. I must not, however, conclude the subject of Bees, without mentioning a curious fact, communicated to * Miscellanies, by the Author of the Sketch-Book, p. 61. wasps. 133 me by Mr. Jackson. He brought over three hives from Bristol to Waterford, in the summer of 1828. Next spring, a full month before any of the inhabi- tants of the Irish hives in the same garden were stirring, the English bees were busily at work, and by the time their neighbours had commenced, had formed a considerable quantity of comb. Next year, they were earlier than the Irish bees, but not so much so as the preceding season ; and they have now, like some other settlers, adopted the seasons and customs of those among whom they have taken up their abode. It would be interesting, in con- nexion with this fact, to ascertain the time at which certain flowers come into blossom at Bristol and at Waterford. Another insect, no less known than the bee, but regarded with very different feelings, is the Wasp. The two insects, besides a general resemblance in form, have a considerable similarity in some of their habits. Both live in numerous communities, — both construct hexagonal cells, in which their young are reared ; and both labour with untiring perseverance for their support. The wasps, however, do not store up food, nor do they collect honey. They are armed freebooters, and take by force what they will not stoop to acquire by toil : — 134 WASPS PAPER-MAKERS. " the good old rule Suflficeth them ; the simple plan, That they should take who have the power, And they should keep who can."— Wordsworth. To such lengths do they carry their contempt of the law of the realm, that even the fear of incurring the pains and penalties of a violation of the Excise laws does not prevent them from practising openly as unlicensed paper-makers. Nay, my dear friend, look not incredulous ; " Remember, I have done thee worthy service ; Told thee no lies \ made no mistakings ;" {.Tempest, Act I. Sc. II.) and I repeat, that wasps are not only the most free,, but also the most ancient, workers of this commodity in her Majesty's dominions. In fact, their nest is composed of paper, and of paper most ingeniously fabricated for the express purpose. With their strong mandibles they tear small splinters of wood from posts, railings, &c, in this neighbourhood, and they may at times be heard busy among the tall reeds on the banks of the Lagan, cutting off por- tions of the stems. The ligneous fibre thus ob- tained, forms the raw material. It is reduced by them to a pulp, and spread out, not so expedi- tiously, but quite as effectually, as if our most im- proved machinery had been employed in the operation. The paper thus made is in this country of a greyish THEIR NESTS. 135 colour, rough on the surface, and extremely thin, and retains those characteristics, whether it be under ground, or suspended to the branches of a tree. Our home manufacturer, if I may venture to use the ex- pression, is greatly surpassed by that of some more tropical countries. I have at present in my cabinet a wasp's nest, from Berbice, in South America. It is about six inches in height, bell- shaped in its general form, and seventeen inches in circumference at its lower margin. A twig, to which it has been attached, passed through two apertures at the top; and a somewhat larger opening at the lowest part, formed the entrance to the interior of the nest, pro- tected from rain by the manner in which it project- ed beyond the adjacent parts. In this specimen, Wasps' Nest. the rough surface and loose flakes of the tree-nests of this country have disappeared, and in their place 136 IRASCIBILITY OF THE WASP. is a firm, compact, and perfectly white surface, as smooth and polished as the finest pasteboard. The accompanying figures represent a nest of a species of wasp, which was found in Oxfordshire, and forwarded to Mr. Westwood. But though an Entomologist may take pleasure in observing the labours of wasps, both in constructing their nests and in rearing their young, and look with satisfaction on the ceaseless exertions by which the food necessary for the support of the grubs is pro- cured, he will find few persons who entertain similar ideas ; on the contrary, he will observe, that they are universally regarded as bold, audacious, and dan- gerous intruders. They alight fearlessly on the viands in our parlours ; they rifle the choicest fruit in our gardens ; and are prompt to avenge with their sting the slightest molestation. There is, perhaps, scarcely any person who has not suffered from the wound which this formidable weapon inflicts, by inadvertently provoking the irritable insect by which it is borne. In fact, so easily is its wrathful temperament aroused, that extreme irritability or irascibility can scarcely be ex- pressed by a stronger term than " waspish." It is, accordingly, in this sense, that we find Shakspeare has applied the epithet, "her waspish-headed son," when we are told in the " Tempest," that Cupid is NOTICES OF IT BY SHAKSPEARE. 137 resolved to " be a boy outright ;" and again, in " As You Like It," — " I know not the contents ; but, as I guess By the stern brow and ivaspish action Which she did use as she was writing- it, It bears an angry tenour." — Act IV. Sc. III. In the celebrated scene in which the reconciliation between Brutus and Cassius is effected, the word is used in a similar manner : — " I '11 use you for my mirth ; yea, for my laughter, When you are waspish."— Act IV. Sc. III. In the first interview between Catherine and Pe- truchio, the word has precisely a similar signification. In accordance with his resolution to "woo her with some spirit when she comes," Petruchio, ere long, addresses his intended spouse by an epithet not usually found in a lover's vocabulary — " Pet.— Come, come, you wasp, V faith— you are too angry. Kath.—li I be waspish, best beware my sting-. Pet.— My remedy is then to pluck it out. Kath.— Ay, if the fool could find it where it lies. Pet.— Who knows not where a wasp doth wear his sting- ? In his tail."— Taming of the Shrew, Act II. Sc. I. Its power of stinging, and its proneness to exert that power, are the reasons why the word " wasp" is applied to individuals who would be apt to avenge real or imaginary injuries. This may be exemplified by the line, 138 WASPS NOT STORERS-TJP OF HONEY. " Let not this wasp outlive us both to sting-." Titus Andronicus, Act II. Sc. III. Those characteristics are again referred to, when Suffolk, in "Henry VIII." is replying to the question — " will the king Digest this letter of the Cardinal's ? Suffolk. — There be more wasps that buz about his nose, Will make this sting the sooner."— Act III. Sc. II. I have already mentioned, that the wasps do not, like the bees, collect and store up honey : there is nothing, however, of which they are more fond ; and they scruple not to arrest it by force from the in- dustrious inhabitants of the hive. In this attempt, they " let no compunctious visitings o' nature shake their fell purpose;" and not unfrequently put to death the victims of their rapacity. This fact has not escaped the eye of Shakspeare. His knowledge of it furnishes a metaphor employed, in the "Two Gentlemen of Verona," by Julia, to express her con- trition for having torn the letter of " the love- wounded Protheus : " — " Oh ! hateful hands, to tear such loving words ; Injurious wasps, to feed on such sweet honey, And kill the bees that yield it with your stings ! " Act I. Sc. II. An allusion to the fondness of the wasps for honey is, in the " Winter's Tale," put with ludicrous effect into the mouth of Autolycus. The " rogue," so let ATJTOLYCUS. 139 me call him, though he says he is "proof against that title," has terrified the old shepherd by a de- scription of the tortures he shall feel, summed up by the words, "All deaths are too few; the sharpest, too easy." The younger rustic, alarmed on his own account, by the apprehension of similar sufferings, timidly inquires, — " Has the old man e'er a son, sir ; do you hear, an't like you, sir ?" and is utterly hor- rified by the reply : — " He has a son, who shall be flayed alive, then 'nointed over with honey, set on the head of a wasps' nest, then stand till he be three-quarters and a dram dead : then recovered again with aquavits, or some other hot infusion : then, raw as he is, and in the hottest day, prognostication proclaims shall he be set against a brick- wall, the sun looking with a southward eye upon him ; where he is to behold him with flies blown to death." " But what talk we of those traitorly rascals," adds Autolycus ; then, changing the subject, inquires their business with the King, and proposes, on being " gently considered," to " whisper him on their be- halfs." The clown, delighted at the intercession of one who " seems to be of great authority," bids his son " close with him ; give him gold." The whole scene is replete with comic humour ; and if the stinging of the wasps has been too long dwelt on — if my pro- lixity has tempted you to exclaim, — " Friend, you 140 ANTS. are tedious," let the mode in which the. fact is intro- duced by Autolycus make you amends. Shakspeare has noticed another insect, which, although very different from those we have now been considering, belongs, like them, to the order Hymenoptera. Perhaps this may seem to you a strange arrangement, and you may wonder that the busy little wingless creatures, whose habitations you have now and then inadvertently disturbed or wilfully invaded, should be classed with those insects which are furnished with four conspicuous wings. But if you have ever examined the interior of an ant's nest in the month of August, you may perhaps have noticed that some of the inmates appear of larger dimensions than usual, and that they are adorned with four wings, similar to those of a wasp, or bee. These are the female ants, just after their liberation from the cocoon. They soon desert the place of their nativity ; and, borne on their extended wings, seek for new localities in which to establish their in- dustrious colonies. As soon as their new abode has been selected, the object for which the wings were given is accomplished. These now useless append- ages are laid aside, not metaphorically, but literally. They are actually thrown off by the exertions of the insect herself, who now sedulously commences to lay the foundations of her populous kingdom.* * See Kirby and Spence, vol. i. p. 370. THEIR SUPPOSED FORESIGHT. 141 Few insects are more widely diffused than the ant. Its habits have attracted universal notice ; and it has been celebrated, both by sacred and profane writers, as a model of prudence, foresight, wisdom, and dili- gence. In Proverbs we are told (chap. xxx. ver. 24), " There be four things which are little upon the earth ; but they are exceeding wise ; " and in the enumeration which follows, the ants are placed first, and are described as " a people not strong, yet they prepare their meat in the summer." In another part, (chap. vi. ver. 6), Solomon desires the sluggard to "go to the ant, consider her ways, and be wise ; which having no guide, overseer, or ruler, provideth her meat in the summer, and gathereth her food in the harvest." Many of our British poets have applauded the foresight of the ant ; and have either described her as storing up grain for winter use, or have alluded to such a circumstance. She is thus charac- terized by Milton :- — " First crept The parsimonious emmet, provident Of future, in small room large heart enclosed." Parnell depicts her as "Pressed by the cumbrous weight of single grains ;" these grains being " the burdens of a wintry store." A similar idea was probably entertained by Rogers, when he penned the harmonious couplet, — " How oft, when purple evening tinged the west, W T e watch'd the emmet to her grainy nest." 142 THE POPULAR NOTION ERRONEOUS. But it is unnecessary to multiply quotations to show, that among all our popular writers, as well as among our agricultural population, who might be supposed to have the best means of observing the habits of the ant, she is universally represented as storing up food, and providing for the wants of winter. Yet, universally as this opinion has pre- vailed, it is not the less erroneous, and no species of ant has yet been discovered, which thus hoards up grain. The mistake seems to have had its origin in observing the ants carrying their young in the state of pupae, which in size and shape somewhat resemble a grain of corn ; and this opinion would be strength- ened by seeing the ant occasionally gnawing the end of one of these little oblong bodies, as if to extract the substance of the grain, but, in reality, to liberate the enclosed insect from its confinement. Shakspeare, in his notice of this insect, has shown his usual ac- curacy of observation, when he says, — " We '11 set thee to school to an ant, to teach thee there is no labouring in the winter ;" for the ants in these countries lie dormant during that season, and con- sequently do not require food for their support. It is possible that in warmer climates we may yet discover some species which do not pass the winter in a dor- mant state, and which, of course, would require a supply of food. But, so far as our acquaintance with ONLY ONCE MENTIONED BY SHAKSPEARE. 143 their modes of life at present extends, no species of ant whatever hoards up grain. When Solomon, therefore, describes the ant " as providing her meat in the summer," he intimates, that she employs in- dustry in taking advantage of the season proper to accomplish a specific purpose ; and in this respect, we may all " consider her ways and be wise." The appearance of a plain, on which numerous colonies of ants have reared their mansions, has been beautifully described by Wordsworth : — ; The intelligence that makes The tiny creatures strong by social league Supports the generations, multiplies Their tribes, till we behold a spacious plain Or grassy bottom, all with little hills, Their labour, cover'd as a lake with waves ; Thousands of cities in the desert place, Built up of life, and food, and means of life ! " The Excursion. It is somewhat remarkable, that an insect so well known, should, throughout all the dramatic works of Shakspeare, be but once mentioned; when others, not more attractive, are so frequently introduced. Perhaps, as the industry of the ant is the quality for which it is conspicuous, it did not admit of the variety of simile, or of the light and fanciful analogies essential for the purposes of the poet. Instead, how- ever, of indulging in what can only be regarded as conjectural, I shall for a moment forsake the writings 144 HONEY-DEW. of IE DIPTERA. 183 would not, to the Entomologist, convey the inference which the Poet intended, the lesson of humanity will by no one be appreciated more highly than by him, because no one can estimate, as he does, the wonder- ful structure and functions of the insect ; and although, for scientific purposes, he occasionally puts onei;o death, none would applaud more warmly the conduct of Uncle Toby, when, after he had caught the fly which had " buzzed about his nose, and tormented him cruelly all dinner time," — " I'll not hurt thee, says my Uncle Toby, rising from his chair and going across the room with the fly in his hand, — I'll not hurt a hair of thy head. Go, says he, lifting up the sash, and opening his hand as he spoke, to let it escape, go, poor devil, get thee gone ; why should I hurt thee ? This world surely is wide enough to hold both thee and me." The diminutive size of many dipterous insects is more than once indicated. Thus, Lear mentions not the gilded fly, but " the small gilded fly." And we are told that the driver of Queen Mab's equipage was not merely a grey-coated gnat, but that her Majesty had for " Waggoner, & small grey-coated gnat." The latter insect is again introduced as expressive of the very minimum of physical dimensions. Imogen is speaking of the departure of her lord : — 184 POETICAL NOTICES OF THEM. " I would have broke mine eye-strings ; crack'd them, but To look upon him, till the diminution Of space had pointed him sharp as my needle ; Nay, followed him, till he had melted from The smallness of a gnat, to air ; and then Have turn'd mine eye and wept." Cymbeline, Act I. Sc. IV. The manner in which these insects keep pace with the traveller, has been thus noticed by Wordsworth — "Across a bare, wide common I was toiling With languid feet, which by the slippery ground Were baffled ; nor could my weak arm disperse The hosts of insects gathering round my face, And ever with me as I paced along." The Excursion. The same poet has elsewhere admitted the cheerful influence of their humming : — " 'Tis now the hour of deepest noon. At this still season of repose and peace. This hour, when all things which are not at rest Are cheerful — while the multitude of flies Is filling all the air with melody, Why should a tear be in an old man's eye ? " The Excursion. The influence which the sun possesses in summoning those insects to their mazy dances in the air, or in sending them to their lurking places by withdrawing his beams, has not been passed by unheeded. Thus we read — " When the sun shines, let foolish gnats make sport ; But creep in crannies, when he hides his beams." Comedy of Errors, Act II. Sc. II. THEIR AERIAL DANCES. 185 And we have a further reference to the effect of a change of weather on this or some other genus, in the words — "One cloud of winter showers, These flies have couched." Timon of Athens, Act II. Sc. II. Their assembling, as here described, is a fact with which even the most incurious observer is familiar, and on which the most refined may speculate. Why- do they thus associate together ? What principle impels them to join in the airy and ceaseless dance, that best evidence of their enjoyment ? Perhaps no solution of this question can be more true, and at the same time more philosophical, than that afforded by the poet : — " Nor wanting here, to entertain the thought, Creatures that in communities exist, Less, as might seem, for general guardianship, (> through dependence upon mutual aid, Than by participation of delight, And a strict fellowship of love combined : What other spirit can it be that prompts The gilded summer-flies to mix and weave Their sports together in the solar beam, Or in the gloom of twilight hum their joy? " Wordsworth. During the summer, many tribes of dipterous insects are seen in the joyous mazes here described. I have watched them over a small piece of water, 186 THEIR NUMBERS. dancing a varied, yet not irregular figure, and per- forming, what a master of ceremonies would describe as like to that part of the Lancer quadrille, when the gentlemen turn off to the left, and the ladies to the right, meet at the lower end of the room, and advance again to their former stations. There was, however, this difference, that all the dancers on this occasion were what the master would call " les cavaliers," for " les dames," among the Diptera, are never known to partake of such amusements. Sometimes, those tiny beings appear like clouds rising and falling in the air, or presenting, above plantations of trees, the aspect of wreaths of smoke ascending from the chimney of a cottage. Such is the appearance presented in the evening by Culex detritus, a species which was undescribed, until noticed about four miles from this town, by A. H. Haliday, Esq., of Clifden, one of the members of our Natural History Society. During the day, it was observed in multitudes among the sedges on the sea coast.* Any one who, at particular times, has travelled from Crumlin to Antrim, must have observed a similar phenomenon, arising from the myriads of Culicidce, Tipulida, and Ephemerid>, price !)s\ i\d. cloth lettered, POPULAR MATHEMATICS ; Being the first principles of Arithmetic, Algebra, and Geometry, in their relations In two vols, royal lSo/o, j