OUR THE NATURAL HISTORY OF ANTS. From the Literary Gazette. UR preceding extracts furnished a view into the interior of the ants' hill, and displayed the extraordinary motions of these insects, in the care of the rising generation. Pursuing the same subject, we learn that "The insect, in the state of pupa, has acquired the figure it will always preserve; nothing seems wanting but strength and a little more consistence: it is also as large as it will ever be; all its members are distinct, one single pelJicle envelopes them. The ant, under this form, continues to move for some moments after its quitting the state of larva, but it soon becomes immoveable: it afterwards changes gradually in colour, passing from a fine white to a pale yellow; then becoming red, and, in several species, brown, almost verging to black. The rudiments of wings may at this time be seen in those which are destined to fly. The pupa have still many attentions to receive from the workers; the greater part are enclosed in a tissue spun by themselves before their metamorphosis; but they cannot, like other insects, liberate themselves from this covering by effecting an opening in it with their teeth. They have scarcely the power of moving; their covering is of too compact a texture, and formed of too strong a silk, to allow of their tearing it without the assistance of the workers. But how do these indefatigable attendants ascertain the proper moment for this process?-If they possessed the faculty of hearing, we might imagine they knew the fit time, from some noise produced in the interior of the prison, by the insects whose developement has commenced; but there is no indication favouring this opinion; it is probable they have a knowledge of it from some slight movements that take place within, which they ascertain through the medium of their antennæ; for these organs are endowed with a sensibility, of which it would be difficult to form a just idea: whatever it be they are never deceived. "Let us still follow them in that labour, wherein are displayed, as it regards their charge, a zeal and an attachment which would justly merit our attention, even were they the real parents of these insects; how much greater then must be our astonishment, when we consider that they bear no further relation to them, than that of being born under the same roof. Several males and females lay in their enveloping membrane in one of the largest cavities of my glazed ant-hill. The labourers, assembled together, appeared to be in continual motion around them. I noticed three or four mounted upon one of these cocoons, endeavouring to open it with their teeth at that extremity answering to the head of the pupa; they began thinning it by tearing away some threads of silk where they wished to pierce it; and at length, by dint of pinching and biting this tissue, so extremely difficult to break, they formed in it a vast number of apertures. They afterwards attempted to enlarge these openings, by tearing or drawing away the silk; but these efforts proving ineffectual, they passed one of their teeth into the cocoon, through the apertures they had formed, and by cutting each thread, one after the other, with great patience, at length effected a passage, of a line in diameter, in the superior part of the web. They now uncovered the head and feet of the insect, to which they were desirous of giving liberty, but before they could release it, it was absolutely necessary to enlarge the opening; for this purpose these guardians cut out a portion in the longitudinal direction of the cocoon, with their teeth alone, employing these instruments as we are in the habit of employing a pair of scissors. A considerable degree of agitation prevailed in this part of the ant hill: a number of ants were occupied in disengaging the winged indidual of its envelope; they took repose and relieved each other by turns, evincing great eagerness in seconding their companions in this undertaking. To effect its speedy liberation, some raised up the portion or bandalette cut out in the length of the cocoon ; whilst others drew it gently from its imprisonment. When the ant was extricated from its enveloping membrane, it was not, like other insects, capable of enjoying its freedom, and taking flight: nature did not will it that it should so soon be independent of the labourers. It could neither fly, nor walk, nor without difficulty stand; for the body was still confined by another membrane, from which it could not, by its own exertions, dis. engage itself. "In this fresh embarrassment, the labourers did not forsake it; they removed the satin-like pellicle which embraced every part of the body, drew the antennæ gently from their investment, then disengaged the feet and the wings, and lastly, the body, the abdomen, and its peduncle. The insect was now in a condition to walk and receive nourishment, for which it appeared there was urgent need. The first attention there fore, paid it by the guardians, was that of giving it the food I had placed within their reach. "The ants in every part of the ant hill were occupied in giving liberty to the males, females, and young labourers that were still enveloped. On being dispossessed of their coverings, the remnants were collected and placed aside in one of the most distant lodges of their habitation; for these insects observe the greatest order and regularity. Some species of ants remove these shreds to a distauce from the ant-hill; others cover the exterior surface of their nest with them, or collect them in particular apartments." naturalist, but may as well yield room, in pages read by all ages and classes, to other and as interesting particulars. Our selections are consequently less ample than we should otherwise have made them. "The male and female ants, when they take a long flight from the ant-hill, do not show that singular instinct which guides bees, wasps, and other insects, in again finding their habitation. This instinct consists, in their knowing how to move in every direction around their abode, without straggling, in order to examine its position, and the several places in its vicinity. We may be soon convinced of this by displacing a hive. The first day the bees never venture abroad, unless they have previously visited all the neighbouring objects: they turn round on all sides, keeping an eye upon their dwelling, without which, it may be readily conceived, it would be impossible they could return. The Queen Bee does the same when she goes forth to meet her paramour in the air. But our winged ants, on the contrary, when they quit the ant-hill, keep their back continually towards it, and go off in a right line to a distance, from which it would be no easy matter to perceive it. We might from this infer, that they would never return to it. But I did not confine myself entirely, to this observation; for I kept sentry, from the time of their departure until night, and even several days in succession, to be fully assured they did not return to the anthill. In this way I have arrived at the conviction, that their return is one of those fables with which we have been a long time amused. What, then, becomes of these insects, accustomed as they have been, to live in a convenient spacious abode, sheltered from every inclemency of the weather, and receiving every attention from the labourers, suddenly relying upon their own guidance, deprived of all these advantages?" Such are the principal features in the rearing of the young of these minute" We know that in the class of insects in size but wonderfully populous and industrious colonies. We pass over slightly the flights of the male and female ants from their native hill, and the process for establishing new nations. The details are extremely curious for the with four membranous wings, the males are destitute of offensive weapons, and do not possess that admirable apparatus which the greater part of females put in use in the establishment of their family; they have neither chisel-shaped teeth, nor VOL. 8.] Natural History of Ants. stings, nor ovipositors (tarieres.) The several arts we remark among the greater number of bees and wasps, ichneumons and tenthredines, &c. are exercised by the females alone, or by the labourers, their representatives. The defence of the nest is also confided to them: the males, after attending to the office of reproduction, become useless to the family of which they are members. The life of male ants cannot be of long duration; deprived of their attendants, incapable of providing their own subsistence, and returning no more to the ant-hill that gave them birth, how can it possibly be of any long continuance? Their life is either naturally limited to a few weeks, or hunger will speedily terminate it: whatever it be, they disappear in a little time after the period of their amours; but they never fall victims, as happens with bees, to the fury of the labourers. "At the period when the career of males is terminated, that of the females is scarcely commenced: they bear the germs of future generations, and these germs are fecundated. Their history is closely connected with the history of ant-bills, and embraces several curicus, and hitherto unknown, particulars." One of the most remarkable of these is, the fact that the female ant immediately, and voluntarily strips off her own wings, and thus becomes domesticated! Then commences the charge of the numerous labourers who attach themselves to her. "The females are conducted into the interior of the nest, and commence by being entirely dependent upon the workers. The latter, hanging to each of their legs, guard them with assiduity, and never permit them to go out. They nourish them with the greatest care, and conduct them into quarters whose temperature appears the best adapted to them; but they do not abandon them an instant. Each of these females loses, by degrees, the desire of quitting her abode. Her abdomen increases in size: at this period, she no longer expe riences constraint. She has still a constant guard; a single ant accompanies her every where, and provides for her necessities. The greater part of the 145 time the worker rests upon its abdomen, *יי "In whatever apartment," says Gould, “a queen ant condescends to be present, she commands obedience and respect. An universal gladness spreads itself through the whole cell, which is expressed by particular acts of joy and exultation. They have a peculiar way of skipping, leaping, and standing upon their hind legs, and prancing with the others. These frolics they make use of, both to congratulate each other when they meet, and to show their regard for the queen. Some of them gently walk over her, oth ers dance round her, and all endeavour to exert their loyalty and affection. She is generally encircled with a cluster of attendants, who, if you separate them from her, soon collect themselves into a body, and in close her in the midst. However romantic this de scription may appear, it may easily be proved by a obvious experiment. If you place a queen ant, with her retinue under a glass, you will, in a few moments be convinced of the honour they pay, and esteem they entertain for her." In reference to no rivalry being experienced, he says, "You may sometimes expect to find two Yellow Queens in the same colony. I have once or twice met with three. They most usually reside in the same lodgment, and live together in perfect harmony and union.”—T. The workers, small as they are, even carry their bulky sovereign ladies about, taking the task in turns as they are fatigued! and the close of the drama, as stated in a note by the translator, is worthy of its progress. "The attachment of the labourers to the females would appear to extend even beyond the existence of the latter; for, when a pregnant female dies, five or six labourers rest near her, and during several days, brush and lick her continually, either in token of lasting affection, or that by these means they hope to reanimate her." From the Literary Gazette. [In commencing the series of papers under the title of Wine and Walnuts, we beg to state, that it is our purpose to publish them hereafter in a collective form; and therefore that we consider them to be copy right, and as such entitled to protection. It is not our object to debar the periodical press from fair and liberal extracts from the Literary Gazette; but we have reason to complain of gross and piratical pillage to an extent, we believe, without precedent, and often committed in a shameful manner, not only without acknowledgment, but partially altered and passed off as their own, by contemporaries, within a few hours of our publication. When we have obtained matter at very considerable cost, and especially originally essays, we cannot but deem such conduct unhandsome and unjust; and we in candour prefer our claim to be at least quoted, for those articles which we procure at quadruple the expense of any weekly journal that ever was published, and through correspondence with every portion of the civilized world. of Wine and Walnuts, a chapter will be published regularly every week; and from the MSS. which we have seen, we think we may, without boast, promise our readers a treat in this sort of desert. The papers announced under the title of The Shadow, will also appear in due time.] I F ever a man possessed a particular bent of mind from some inherent feeling, I verily believe I may claim eredence on asserting that I have experienced such un extraordinary faculty. Bot lest the assumption may appear proudly egotistical-nay, savour too strongly of vanity, in this modest age, be it known, that my pretensions to notoriety for this singular gift, are but on an humble score, being neither more nor less than for possessing an inherent love for the PICTURESQUE. Now having said thus much, I will endeavour to show how this marvellous faculty had birth-call me EGOTIST, if it be your pleasure, for I am of the old school, and save a world of circumlocution, (being too old now to alter) by persisting to pen my sage ob servations in the first person-I myself I, hating congeniality with my ancient friends, Baron ** **s, and Mr. C*** e, among the other ten thousand innovations, those of IT and WE, as though in this mincing age, every man must mince the matter of propria persona, and worry his brains to stand before the world after all, like another Tom Fool, his own amanuensis, by writing as though mister some-one-else sat at his elbow and prompted every line. Well, gentle reader, I will endeavour to shew thee how this faculty arose in my mind, how far it has been indulged (if it have bounds), what have been its concomitants, and what an unceasing source of happiness it has been from early infancy to the present moment-and what a solace midst a mul who has Among these is that innovation which has banished pies from table. The sterling Mr. outlived all his family, resides with a worthy matron who keeps a boarding house, she is a little romantic, and he a little fastidious-" Will you take a bit of tart," asks the good lady every day—“ No Madam," invari ably answers the guest," but I will take a bit of pie." This is all in good part, and the recurrence, I verily believe, contributes to lengthen his days. I know not two worthier souls than he and the Baron; and both, my seniors by many years, read without spectacles. titude of cares; for its interest has "grown with my growth, strengthened with my strength," and I may add, has lengthened, through God's goodness, with my thread of life. A foolish fellow wrote, when I was a boy, a book against religion, and by way of præem, like many a modern coxcomb, lamented being" born amidst the wilds of superstition," saying, "some of the briars and thorns yet stuck about him." Now I was born in the midst of this bustling metropolis, and, au contraire, delight in many of the honest prejudices of my youthful days. Time sanctified the past, and the future day by day burst upon me, always thankful for continuance here, like a bright morning ray that awakened to new action from a happy dream. And when the last sun is destined to set upon me, may I watch its departure with a holy smile, and bless Heaven for my long sojournment in my mortal tenement. Yes, young men and maidens, I was born more than seventy years ago, and have as distinct a recollection of the appearance of OLD LONDON, of London as it was, as though in one vast Panorama, it stood now displayed before my eyes; and the events of the greater part of this long period are to me as of recent date. A journal, which I have occasionally kept, has helped the powers of reminiscence, so that past images by its aid, like the new mode of perpetuating impressions by the steel cylinder in this stupendous age of invention, are never worn out, but the rather are ever being renewed. And this. I humbly conceive, is the principal member in that extraordinary machine denominated memory. My father was a manufacturer, and resided in a part of the metropolis, in the - very heart of a cluster of old buildings; his workshops were picturesque and rude, and would have furnished abundant subjects for the pencil of a Jan Stein, a Teneirs, a Gerrard Douw, a Brauwer, or Ostade. Plastered walls, grotesque implements for business, nooks crowded with hour glasses, obsolete tobacco-pipes, crazy lanterns, brokea pitchers, and all the arcana that constitute the episodes to pictures of humble life. The men who worked on the premises were of a "piece to form the whole," every thing in manners and costume was "fitting;" and though comprising objecis unsought or disregarded by the greater part of mankind, yet brought before the eye of taste by such rare geniuses as these, with the charm of graphic art, excite the admiration of such as dwell with interest on "the various scenes of many-coloured life”— of men of mind, however high their sphere. Hence we see such pictorial traits of homely customs, and inferior habits and manners, purchased at an immense price; and the interior of smitby,+ a weaver's garret, or a wheelwright's shed, forming the choicest ornaments of the palace walls, and these graphic treasures, bordered with mas sive frames of burnished gold. Such is the charm that the picturesque spreads over the cultivated mind. In the midst of such a grotesque site, long since laid bare to give place to modern improvement, I passed from infancy to youth-from youth to manhood. Among the workmen I delighted to end my leisure hours; and during their suspensions from labour, I listened with indescribable interest to their tales of merriment, and enjoyed their artless controversies, and unsophisticated opinions upon passing events. Never did connoisseur character meet with such a collection of originals as in my father's attic stories. was Hogarth's delight: he knew all their private history--and many a foaming cann had there been drank to his health, at his expence. He was a great favourite, and addressed each man by the friendly appellation of shopmate. He had a joke for every one, and sometimes found his match. One and all swore he was the "greatest limner A lounge there + Who can have beheld the picture of the Scottish Distillery, by the inimitable Wilkie, and not enter into this feeling? |