Life of an orphaned girl

To look at a house-fly as it performs its figure-of-eight dances in the air of our rooms, or as it buzzes against the window-pane, vainly endeavouring to dash its tender body through the firm and clear glassy wall-to mark how soon it comes into existence, and how soon its little day of life is gone-one would say it is a foolish and trifling thing to write the history of an insect's life; but any one who would thus speak must be ignorant of that which he declares to be folly and trifling.

He cannot know the miracles of skill that insects, insignificant as they seem, are capable of performing; nor the astonishing lessons of wisdom which even man may learn from these minute and short-lived beings. So long as we are ignorant of any part of God's creation, we may very probably think light of it; but when we come to inquire into the things we have formerly despised, and will give a patient attention to what we before thought beneath our notice, the tone of our remarks will greatly alter. Now, we shall find in the meanest things formed by the Divine hand inexhaustible themes for wonder and praise, and innumerable proofs that the great Almighty power which built our round world, and countless worlds besides, which fixed them with a firm decree in an appointed course, has not been less displayed even in the formation of a tiny insect, which is this hour alive, and the next lost to being.

The telescope shows us what God has created in the innumerable millions of stars and suns which every clear night look down with gentle beams upon the earth; it shows us that the earth on which we dwell, compared to the worlds by which it is surrounded, is as a grain of sand to a mighty mountain. But the microscope, on the contrary, shows us what is almost more wonderful even than this; for it shows us that though the High and Lofty One who inhabits eternity has created all these vast systems of suns and stars, yet he has not thought it beneath Him to chisel the egg of an insect or to adorn the coat of a tiny caterpillar. Well might we pause and ask as we look now through the wonder-revealing tube of the microscope and then through that of the telescope-Was it not a greater evidence of power and wisdom to create, clothe, organize, and endow with the powers of life, a little atom which we can detect only by means of a powerful microscope, than to form even a great and mighty world? For our part, then, we think an insect's history as much a display of the wisdom and infinite power of the Creator as the history of such an enormous body as is the sun, or any of the large planets belonging to our system. However humble be the object which God has seen fit to create, let not any one think it beneath him to examine. The poet Thomson has written some pretty lines which we shall venture to transcribe, which, with far greater beauty of language than we can pretend to, set before us the same train of thought:-

"Let no presuming impious railer tax

Creative wisdom, as if aught was formed

In vain, or not for admirable ends.

Shall little haughty ignorance pronounce

His works unwise, of which the smallest part

Exceeds the narrow vision of her mind?"

Animals, birds, reptiles, fish, and plants, have had their biographers, and ponderous books have been written to give us an introduction to their various families: so also have insects; although despised by many, they have been highly esteemed by a few; and if honours went by the size of books written about them, it might perhaps be shown that the insects can boast of great and closely-printed books taken up with nothing else but an account of them and their doings.

Perhaps there is another feeling about insects which ought to be mentioned beside the feeling of contempt; that is, the feeling of aversion. A great many people, ought we to write? a great many ladies and children, are ready to scream, and take to their heels if they see a poor "black beetle," racing in terror of his life for fear of them, and as both parties are equally frightened of one another it becomes very difficult to manage a reconciliation between them. At the sight of spiders some people are ready to faint away, and to see a little caterpillar creeping along with his magnificent coat of parti-coloured hairs, and with that funny gait which it is quite ludicrous to behold as he binds himself into a loop and walks after a fashion like no other earthly being, is enough to make their hair stand on end and their flesh to creep!

Death's-head Moth.

Sometimes insects are the innocent causes of alarm even to nations. Thus there is a peculiar kind of moth, upon the back of which there is very distinctly marked the appearance of what is vulgarly called a "death's head," its name being the death's-head hawk moth, represented in the adjoining cut, which was once the cause of the greatest terror to a number of persons. It was in Bretagne that a large flight of them suddenly made their appearance; at the same time a dangerous epidemic disease fell upon the inhabitants; the awful look of the poor insect, together with its strange supernatural noise, filled the ignorant people with alarm, and the disease was considered to be actually caused by the moths. Another insect, the church-yard beetle, which is of a jet black colour, is related by the great Linn?us as producing the most alarming feelings upon the minds of the superstitious and ignorant among the peasantry of Sweden.

The death-tick beetle has also a terrible reputation for frightening people. This little creature takes up its abode in decayed wood, and thus frequently makes the bed-post its dwelling-place, or ensconces itself in the wainscot of an old room. Now, when, as some entomologists tell us, it wants to give a signal to its mate, the insect begins hammering with all its might at the side of the wall, or knocks upon its little floor until the noise is heard, and the mate then begins to hammer, both producing for their size a tremendous noise, but in human ears not sounding louder than the tick of a large watch. The poor invalid, as he lies in bed perhaps very nervous and unable to bear loud conversation, hears the noisy insects knocking one to the other, and immediately his mind is filled with fears of the most groundless kind, which the nurse, if she is one of the old school, is sure to confirm by telling him that this ticking is the death-watch.

Death-watch Beetle.

All this is not only very weak and foolish, but when it reaches the degree to which we have here referred, it is also very wrong. As to the death's head hawk moth producing disease or foretelling death and famine, as it has been said to do, how weak and credulous must they be who draw such omens from a mark on an insect's head; and how dishonouring is it to the all-wise providence of God to imagine that he would suffer such a ridiculous emblem to have any such actual signification! The little beetle which produces the ticking sounds was caught by Dr. Derham one fine sunshiny day, tapping as loudly as it could on a piece of paper in a window; he examined the little creatures and kept them carefully, and he states that during the whole of one summer they scarcely ever ceased tapping night and day. Birds have their calls to their companions, and animals have theirs, yet we do not draw from these the wild supposition that they foretell death or such like disasters. Why, then, should the love-tap of an insignificant beetle have received such an interpretation? It is hard indeed to tell.

Now all these feelings about insects, contempt, abhorrence, and terror, arise in one common cause, and that is ignorance. A very small acquaintance with the contents of the little work upon which we are now entering, would suffice to dispel them all. It may be, perhaps, difficult to overcome what is called a "natural aversion" to any object, especially to an unfortunate insect; but when it is overcome, and when we learn, for the first time, all the extraordinary actions, habits, and instincts, of this portion of the great creation, admiration will take the place of contempt, and even a humble sort of affection that of the terror and aversion produced by them before.

With the reader's permission, then, we will proceed to take him with us as we describe the various stages of the Life of an Insect, from the egg up to the perfect being. It may be, however, just necessary to premise that in so doing we shall not give anything like the history of an individual insect, such, for example, as a fly or a bee; but shall describe in order some of the most interesting phenomena connected with insect-history and transformations generally. Whither, then, must we go to watch the awakening of life in the insect? We might ask the reader's company to

--"where the pool

Stands mantled o'er with green, invisible

Amid the floating verdure, millions stray."

Here might we point to him that wondrous and exquisite structure, the life-boat of eggs, floating[A] securely on its silent surface, or anchored, perhaps, to the side of some pond-plant's slimy stem; and lingering here we might in a few days see the little eggs become burst and give exit to a number of minute creatures of great activity. Some of them would be seen twisting themselves about in a most extraordinary manner, and swimming here and there through the still waters. Or we might take him to the depths of the forest, and now, under the bark of some of the trees, now upon their branches, now in little tents of leaves, we could point out many a colony of eggs only waiting for the life-giving influence of spring to burst into life and activity.

But it is better for us to proceed more systematically, and to notice shortly the interesting facts which the science of entomology reveals to us as to the egg-cradles, so to speak, of insects, by which is meant the various localities selected by them for the deposition of their eggs, some of them, as we have mentioned, in the water, some in the earth, some upon plants and trees, and some in mansions made by the insects themselves for the purpose of hatching their eggs.

Let us come, then, and watch the great water-beetle, at the time when the mother-insect is about to commit her future offspring to the care of the waters. She is to be found on fine days, when the sun is going down into a bed of gold, enjoying herself and delighting in the pleasant air of the evening, as she sits upon a plant close by the water's edge; or she may even have taken up her position on a floating leaf of the plant, the clear waters flowing gently beneath her. She has been in the water all day long, and is now just emerged. On other evenings she will take wing, and speed her way whither no eye can follow; but now, she has another and the most important duty of her existence to perform, and her customary evening ramble is not permitted to interfere with its fulfilment. On watching her closely we find her busy at some self-imposed occupation; what is its nature? To discover that, she must be closely and patiently watched. At her tail are a couple of spinning organs, which move from right to left and up and down with great swiftness, all the while a glutinous fluid, which hardens into a thread, being discharged from each of them. With this apparatus the industrious insect is spinning a pouch not unlike the purses which were in fashion before the long ones that ladies knit came to be adopted. This purse is three quarters of an inch long; it consists outside of a tissue, like parchment, which is quite impervious to water, but is lined inside with the most beautiful, light, downy material possible, which is as white as snow. There is a sort of little horn to this pouch, which admits the air, but the opening to which is protected by a layer of cross threads, which excludes the wet. In three hours of patient toil this beautiful cradle is completed. The water-beetle then safely secures it from being carried away by the waters on which it floats so buoyantly, by fastening it by cables to the neighbouring plants. Here safely moored it rests until the eggs are hatched, soon after which the little creatures within escape into the waters out of the ark, which has, during the period of their infancy, safely preserved them from every danger, both of water and wind.

The proceedings of the common gnat, our summer tormentor, are no less interesting and instructive. Her actions have been closely watched by the great Réaumur, and are detailed by him with very striking accuracy. They require, perhaps, sharper scrutiny than most of our readers are in the habit of bestowing upon the actions of insects, but they well repay a patient and attentive observation, and subjects for the examination may easily be found at the side of any pool in summer. The following is an outline of the difficulties the insect has to contend with in depositing her eggs. First, they must be hatched on the water; but, 2d, her eggs are heavier than water, and will therefore sink if dropped into it one by one; and, 3d, the eggs are so small and of so peculiar a shape that it would be difficult to make them stand upright on a solid surface; far more so then, on the water. A human ship-builder would be probably sorely puzzled to find out how to overcome these difficulties, and of such materials how to construct a floating raft; nay, a raft which cannot by any means be made to sink. The insect has, however, been instructed by a Greater and Wiser than man, and she solves the problem in a manner well calculated to excite our admiration and praise. Fixing herself by her four front legs upon a leaf or twig floating on the surface of the water, she stretches out behind her the two hind legs, and crosses them over one another somewhat in this manner . In the triangular space thus formed she purposes to construct her boat of eggs. Now, all things being ready, just where the crossed legs meet she places her first egg, which is covered over with a thick glue. By the side of this she places another, and again another, so that the three are, by means of the glue which covers them, united together, and will, consequently, preserve the upright position, as there is now a sufficiently broad base of support for them to rest upon. To these she diligently adds egg to egg until she has sufficiently formed the shape of her boat; after which she uncrosses her legs and places them quite straight, so as to shape the sides of the boat. When a sufficient number of eggs have been thus glued together, the number varying from two to three hundred, the gnat considers her task as ended, and wings her way from the pool, abandoning her ingenious structure to the mercy of wind and wave, although not without the security of knowing that neither wind nor wave could commit serious injury upon it.

"In shape," write Messrs. Kirby and Spence, "this little boat pretty accurately resembles a London wherry, being sharper and higher, to use a nautical phrase, fore and aft; convex below and concave above; floating, moreover, constantly on the keel or convex part. But this," they add, "is not all; it is, besides, a life-boat, more buoyant than even Mr. Greathead's. The most violent agitation of the water cannot sink it; and what is more extraordinary, and a property still a desideratum in our life-boats, though hollow it never becomes filled with water, even though exposed to the torrents that often accompany a thunder-storm. To put this to the test I yesterday placed half a dozen of these boats upon the surface of a tumbler half full of water. I then poured upon them a stream of that element from the mouth of a great bottle held a foot above them, yet, after this treatment, which was so rough as actually to project one out of the glass, I found them floating as before upon their bottoms, and not a drop of water within their cavity."

Rubbish Towers of the Sand-Wasp.

Some insects make the homes of their young in the earth. Of these, the insect called the sand-wasp forms, perhaps, one of the most interesting examples. This insect selects generally a hard sunny sand-bank for the excavation it is about to accomplish. Armed with a pair of powerful jaws, by means of which the insect can break off good-sized fragments of the rock she is about to mine, she sets to her arduous undertaking with a bold heart, and it is not long before a tolerable cavity is scooped out. Many of our readers have seen the manner in which human miners proceed when they are forming a hole in a lime or other rock, for the purpose of blasting, and must have noticed that they are in the habit of using a little water, in order to facilitate the boring operation. We are all, also, familiar with the tale of Hannibal chemically softening the Alpine rocks by means of vinegar. The little insect in question has been instructed by the great Creator also to adopt a means of shortening her labour, for it has been observed that she moistens the rock by letting fall a drop or two of fluid upon it from her mouth. By this means her work goes on rapidly. The rubbish soon begins to accumulate. It will be scarcely conjectured what this patient labourer does with it. Were we to look narrowly at the sand-bank which such wasps frequent, we should find on its surface a number of curious little projections like horns, rising from the surface. These are towers built by the sand-wasp of the pieces of rubbish which she scoops out of her mine. She cements them together, and, instead of throwing them away, she lays the masses in regular order until they have assumed the appearance here shown. It has been supposed she does this with a view to keep out enemies and to keep her progeny cool; just as in a tall house the cellar is its coolest apartment, so the height of the tower in question seems to be an additional protection against the rays of the scorching sun. After it has deposited its egg at the bottom of the excavation, the sand-wasp sets out on a foraging expedition, and hunts about until she finds certain green caterpillars. Seizing upon one of these she flies with it to her mine, and then returns for more prey. After collecting about a dozen of these helpless beings, fixing them so that they are hopeless captives inside her dark prison, she bids farewell to the egg, for the future well-being of which she has thus assiduously provided. She takes down her tower of stones, and, with the materials which composed it, fills up the entrance to the cell, thus shutting in both the prisoners and their future devourer in a common dungeon, there to await the changes which time will inevitably bring about.

Let us speak now of eggs carefully deposited by other insects in galleries and excavations made into timber. The insects which thus act have been called by the fanciful title of carpenter-bees, in allusion to the drilling process by which they penetrate the wood. A highly interesting spectacle it is, in truth, to see one of these pigmy carpenters at her work, and, fortunately, some of the species are not very uncommon in our gardens. Spring is the season when she commences her labours. She reconnoitres about for a proper piece of timber for some time, and exhibits great discrimination in the selection of a suitable place for establishing herself and for the nurture of her progeny. Strange to say, she will not select living wood, such as the trunk of a tree, but generally prefers wood which has already begun to decay, as if fully aware that such wood was likely to give her much less trouble in boring than any other. She also selects a piece of wood placed in some sunny and genial position, with a view to the development and comfort of her progeny. This important point being settled to her mind, she next sets about the work. Well may Réaumur exclaim, "Truly the labour she has undertaken demands strength, courage, and patience!"