CHAPTER IV.

FOOD AND DEATH OF THE IMAGO.

But we have something to say about the food of insects. Although it has been already laid down as a general rule, that insects in their perfect state, do not eat in any degree with the voracity they exhibit in the larva form, it is nevertheless true that they do both require and devour food in considerable quantities, and of various kinds. Some, for example, are exclusively _vegetable_ feeders. They attack all the parts of plants, not excepting even the root and the bark. Some, with an elegant taste, select the yellow pollen of flowers for their dainty and delicate food. And others, more refined still in their appetites, will have nothing but the fresh distilled honey that lies hid at the bottom of the flowers, pumping it up by the beautiful spirally-coiled tube which forms a part of their mouth. Need we say these are the butterflies? The fly loves a grain of sugar, or a savoury joint of meat: and to other insects, to use a quotation of Mr. Spence's, which prefer the paper of our Atlases, or maps,--

----"a river and a sea Are a dish of tea, And a kingdom bread and butter."

A large number also are _carnivorous_ creatures: need we mention the spider-tribe? a name of terror to myriads of our summer insect-friends. The beautiful _cicindelæ_, called by Linnæus the "tigers to insects," prey upon the whole insect race, and are endowed with powers of offence and destruction, to a degree sufficient fully to justify this title. In France, we are told, the butchers are very glad to have wasps attend their stalls; since they drive away, and undoubtedly prey upon, the numerous flies which frequent these places. The larger species of ants are equally ferocious, attacking any small soft-bodied insect they may meet with, and when killed dragging it to their nest. The beautiful lady-birds, which we look upon with so much tenderness, remembering the ditty,

"Lady-bird, lady-bird, fly away home, Your house is on fire, your children will burn;"

are in the larva state furious destroyers of other insects, and will gobble up aphides by the score in a very short time. The dragon-fly too stands conspicuous among the insect devourers, not only in its larva but in its perfect condition, and falls upon multitudes of insects, plucking off their wings, and with savage relish devouring their bodies. We are not, however, to suppose that the appetites of carnivorous insects are confined to insect-food. The blow fly lives upon and defiles by depositing its eggs in our butcher's meat. The cockroach will polish a bone as clean as, or cleaner than, any dog will, and, indeed, will consume almost anything that happens to come in its way. Lastly, we may not omit to mention, that some insects have to plunge their armed mouths into our flesh and that of other animals, and to slake their raging thirst in a draught of our life-blood: among which we will only enumerate the musquito, the gnat, and the flea. We need scarcely say, that insects are provided with proper organs of digestion.

Singular to add, some insects in the perfect state do not eat at all. The silk-worm moth, and the _Ephemeræ_, are amongst this number; they live so short a time, as not to require food. Some insects also possess a most extraordinary power of abstaining from food. There have been at different times wonderful tales related of human beings, who, in a supposed trance, have endured the privation of food for an extremely long time,--weeks, and even months. And more recently we have an account of an Indian who suffered himself to be buried alive, built over with bricks and mortar, and a great seal set upon the only opening to his tomb, a guard being also set; and, after the expiration of a certain time, before agreed upon, the sepulchre was opened, and he was taken out--alive! All this is extremely wonderful, if we could only feel certain that there was no deception in the case. But it is nothing to what can be adduced from the insect world. The ant-lion has been known to endure a fast of _six entire months_, and to be as lively as possible at their termination. An author quoted by Messrs. Kirby and Spence kept a spider in a sealed glass for _ten months_, at the end of which time, though shrunk in size, it was as vigorous as ever. And Mr. Baker relates that he once kept a beetle alive for three years without food of any kind whatever!

When we call to memory the intense voracity of the insect while a larva,--how insatiable its appetite, how extensive its ravages,--and contrast it with the perfect insect, we are struck with astonishment. Why is this, we ask, that in all cases insects eat less when they are fully developed, than when in their infancy and youth? It is as if a full-grown healthy man were to eat less than his little child a year or two old. The reason appears to be, that in the imago state no further changes (which consume a great deal of material, as may be imagined when we remember the loss of substance in every cast of the skin) are necessary; the insect only requires food sufficient to preserve its life and activity in the state to which it has come, and needs no laying up of stores of fat for future consumption. Fluttering awhile in glorious apparel, through a world of flowers and sunshine, the period of its life runs out, and its only further change is--to die, and return to its kindred dust.

But, before this takes place, one last duty devolves upon the insect, which, unfulfilled, would leave the world at its death with one link in the chain of creation broken off,--this is, to make provision for the continuance of its species. We have already said, that insects, as a general rule, have been, no doubt in wisdom, destined to deposit their eggs not knowing what is to come forth of them, and never enjoying that happiness which is granted to many other beings,--the happiness of parental love. Some most interesting exceptions to this rule will have also been mentioned, in which a mother's love for her young has been exemplified in a remarkable manner.

Yet, though denied this pleasure and privilege, the mother-insect exercises, as we have before seen, all the care and forethought of the most affectionate parent, in depositing its eggs, and in making such arrangements as will be most conducive to the happiness and well-being of its future progeny. We can scarcely say that in this it shows that it possesses anything like such a feeling as that of a parent towards its child. It takes the wonderful precautions, and performs the singular actions, which have been already in part recorded in our first chapter, in all probability without being aware of the reasons why it should do so. How can it tell that its future progeny will eat this food, or that food? How can the poor blow-fly, when it leaves its eggs on our food, be certain that it is appointing a suitable place for the birth-spot of its progeny? Why does it not select the green surface of the leaf, or the warm corner of the window, or the bare earth, for this purpose? We might say, perhaps, in this instance, that the insect is only choosing the place where it obtains its own food. But what shall we say when we find insects, such as the butterfly, depositing their eggs upon plants which they never frequent at any other time, and from which they never obtained a particle of food themselves? Some, for instance, deposit them on the nettle, although never tasting anything from this plant themselves, while the young which are to proceed forth from the eggs feed voraciously upon it.

We cannot, in any way but one, account for this forethought. The poor insect, left to itself, would undoubtedly deposit its eggs indifferently anywhere; and the result would be, that its young family, if hatched at all, would awake only to find themselves in a desert, without food, or hope of reaching any, and would soon perish. Need we say how it can be easily accounted for? Surely, only, because it is God who has instructed these humble creatures, enduing them, if not actually with the powers of foresight, at any rate with the instinct which impels them to proceed in such a manner as if they were thus endowed. By a most wonderful exercise of wisdom He has taught them to distinguish even between the different species of plants; and rarely, indeed, do we find that the insect commits a mistake, or selects a wrong or fatal birthplace for its young.

Insect history is full of such instances of the great Creators wisdom and love. Although they are not rendered conspicuous to every eye, they are not the less real, nor the less amazing. In our Life of an Insect, many have been the occasions when we have stopped to wonder afresh at continually new and more striking indications of His adorable goodness and power, as the different phenomena of insect-life have been paraded before us. Yet this is but a very minute portion of what really exists of the admirable and beautiful in the insect world. Not one volume, not a hundred volumes, would suffice to relate the interesting facts which connect themselves in various ways with the insect's life. The main features only have been developed, and these imperfectly. Such being the case, what a world of wonders is the great creation, were we to consider it only as peopled with insects! What pen could write their history; what tongue narrate the many marvels of their existence! Ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousand of thousands, surround us on every side, accompany us on our excursions, and visit us in our homes, fill the air with life, and the waters with creeping things.

The history of an insect's life impresses upon us one of the most consoling truths contained in the word of God. We may learn from the tale of God's wonders in the vegetable creation, we may find also in the history of birds, beasts, and fishes, innumerable proofs of His love, and care, and goodness to all. But these are creatures whose size in the main renders them conspicuous; too much so, as we might say, to be overlooked. "Ah! then,"--were there no insects, one might doubtingly exclaim, "God may take thought for these large creatures, while more minute beings would be beneath His notice. And so with me: God may order and arrange the great events in my life; but are not the little ones too small for Him to regard?" The life of an insect answers these doubts. It tells us, that though a being be only of the size of a grain of sand, or not larger than the full stop at the end of this sentence, God has supplied it with the most beautiful organs; has endowed it with life, and with the most wonderful instincts, thus manifesting that, in the words of Scripture, "His care is over all His works." If God, then,

"To whom an atom is an ample field,"

has not thought it beneath Him to take care for such diminutive, short-lived creatures as these, how much more will He care for His own people, reconciled to Him through the blood of Jesus, and sanctified by the Holy Spirit of promise! We are not left, however, to learn this blessed truth from the page of creation alone. Our Lord has himself declared to us, that the very hairs of our head are all numbered, and has left on record the promise, that if we "seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, all these things," that is, all temporal things, "shall be added unto us."

R. E.

THE END.

R. CLAY, PRINTER, BREAD STREET HILL.

FOOTNOTES:

[A] Vide Frontispiece to this Chapter.

[B] Mr. Rennie.

[C] The definition of the words Caterpillar, Grub, Maggot, as popularly understood, is as follows:--

A _Caterpillar_ is the larva of a butterfly, moth, or saw-fly, often hairy, and always provided with a larger or smaller number of legs.

A _Grub_ is the larva of a beetle, having six feet and a smooth body.

A _Maggot_ is the larva of a bee, wasp, or fly, and has no legs.

[D] One of these insects which fell under the writer's notice pierced and sucked dry aphides of several different species quite indifferently.

[E] This scene is represented in the Frontispiece.

[F] To protect the wine from them it is customary to have little silver covers for the wine-glasses, which are put on immediately that the glass is taken from the lips.

[G] Vide "The Life of a Tree."

[H] The insect in the act of squirting is shown in the Frontispiece to this Part.

[I] Mr. Blackwall has discovered that by carefully examining the _feet_ of spiders, this mistake may be avoided.

[J] M. Bonnet writes of the pupa of a moth, that it can climb up and down inside its cocoon like a chimney-sweep in a chimney! Some twirl about inside their cocoons; and it is said that a great entomologist was once so terrified by the curious noise thus made, that he nearly threw down the box in which it was, in his alarm.

[K] From a Latin word, signifying "covered," or "disguised."

[L] From a Latin word, signifying "compressed into a small compass."

[M] All pupæ cannot be thus hastened or retarded by influence of external heat or cold. The pupæ of a moth, very common in our fields, if all exposed to the same temperature will some of them develop this year, some the next, and some the year following. This singular fact cannot be explained.

[N] This scene is depicted in the Frontispiece to the last Part.

[O] Now-a-days the chemist might also answer, _Gutta Percha_; for it is a singular fact that strong acids have no action upon that curious substance.

[P] That is, the twelfth part of an inch.

[Q] This scene is represented in the Frontispiece to Part III.

[R] See page 241.

[S] See p. 316.

[T] Several other explanations of red-rain are given, which account for it by the presence of animalcules, fungi, &c.

[U] Vide the admirable Address of W. Spence, Esq. F.R.S. President of the Entomological Society for 1849; p. 5.

[V] The proboscis of the carpenter-bee differs from that of the honey-bee, possessing a curious notched sheath, as represented in the lower cut.

[W] If we refuse to adopt Dr. Erichson's view of the use of the antennæ.

[X] This plant is a native of South Africa, and a fine specimen of it exists in the conservatories at Kew. Its botanical name is _Stapelia_.

[Y] The writer has repeated these experiments in a number of cases, and finds their accuracy confirmed. By cutting off one of the poisers, the fly is partly crippled, and has a disposition to spin round in flying; by cutting off both, it is quite unable to fly at all, and becomes instantly sensible of the loss of apparently a most important pair of organs, by being so tame as not to try to escape from a touch. A "Father Long-legs" thus treated had a tendency to fall head foremost, and also to lie on its back.

[Z] The writer is responsible for these experiments.

[AA] See p. 160.

Transcriber's Note

All paragraphs split by illustrations were rejoined. All obvious typographical anf formatting errors were corrected.