[45] Baker on the Polypes.

OF VEGETABLES.

It were to be wished a satisfactory account could here be given of all the preparations which are requisite to fit for the microscope the objects of the vegetable kingdom. Dr. Hill is the only writer who has handled this subject. I shall, therefore, extract from his “Treatise on the Construction of Timber,” what he has said; this, together with the improvements I have made on the cutting engine, will enable the reader to pursue the subject and extend it further, both for his own pleasure, and the advantage of the public.

THE MANNER OF OBTAINING THE PARTS OF A SHOOT SEPARATE.

In the beginning of April, take a quantity of young branches from the scarlet oak, and other trees. These are first cut into lengths, of the growth of different seasons; and then part is left entire, part split, and the rest quartered. In this state they are put into a wicker basket, with large openings, or of loose work, and a heavy stone is put in with them; a rope is tied to the handle of the basket, and it is thrown into a brook of running water: at times it is taken up, and exposed a little to the air; it is frequently shook about under water, to wash off filth; and once in ten days the sticks are examined.

By degrees the parts loosen from one another, and by gentle rubbing in a bason of water just warmed, they will be so far separated, that a pencil brush will perfect the business, and afford pieces of various sizes, pure, distinct, and clean. One part will in this way separate at one time, and another, at another; but by turning the sticks to the water, and repeating the operation, in the course of four or five weeks every part may be obtained distinct. They are best examined immediately; but if any one wish to preserve them for repeated inquiries, it may be done in this manner: dissolve half an ounce of alum in two quarts of water; drop the pieces thus separated, for a few moments, into this solution, then dry them upon paper, and put them up in vials of spirit of wine, no other fluid being so well adapted to preserve these tender bodies.

TO PREPARE THE RIND FOR OBSERVATION.

As the vessels of the rind are of different diameters in various trees, though their construction and that of the blebs is perfectly the same in all, it will be best to choose for this purpose the rind of a tree wherein they are largest. The rind of the ash-leaved maple is finely suited. A piece of this may be obtained of two inches long, and will very successfully answer the intention. Such a piece being prepared without alum or spirit, but dried from the water in which it had been macerated, it is to be impregnated with lead in the following manner, to shew the apertures by their colour.

Dissolve one drachm of sugar of lead in an ounce and an half of water; filter this through paper, and pour it into a tea-cup. Clip off a thin slice of what was the lower end of the piece of rind as it grew on the tree, and plunge it near an inch deep into the liquor; keep it upright between two pieces of stick, so that one half or more may be above the water; whelm a wine-and-water glass over the tea-cup, and set the whole in a warm place. When it has stood two days, take it out, clip off all that part which was in the liquor, and throw it away.

The circumstances here mentioned, trivial as they may seem, must be attended to: the operation will not succeed, even if the covering-glass be omitted; it keeps a moist atmosphere about the rind, and makes its vessels supple.

While this is standing, put into a bason two ounces of quick lime, and an ounce of orpiment; pour upon them a pint and an half of boiling water; stir the whole together, and when it has stood a day and a night, it will be fit for use. This is the “liquor probatorius vini” of some of the German chymists; it discovers lead when wines are adulterated with it, and will shew it any where.

Put a little of this liquor in a tea-cup, and plunge the piece of rind half way into it.

In the former part of this experiment, the vessels of the rind have been filled with a solution of lead, that makes of itself no visible alteration in them; but this colourless impregnation, when the orpiment lixivium gets to it, becomes of a deep brown; the vessels themselves appear somewhat the darker for it; but these dots, which are real openings, are now plainly seen to be such, the colour being perfectly visible in them, and much darker than in the vessels. This object must be always viewed dry.

If a piece of the rind, thus impregnated, be gently rubbed between the fingers, till the parts are separated, we shall be able in one place or other, to get a view of the vessels all round, and of the films which form the blebs between them.

Every part of the rind, and every coat of it, even the interstitial place between its innermost coat and bark, are filled with a fine fluid. The very course and progress of the fluid may be shewn in this part, even by an easy preparation; only that different rinds must be sought for this purpose, the vessels in some being larger than in others. Repeated trials have shewn me that the whole progress may be easily marked in the three following kinds, with only a tincture of cochineal.

Put half an ounce of cochineal, in powder, into half a pint of spirit of wine; set it in a warm place, and shake it often for four days; then filter off the clear tincture. Put an inch depth of this into a cup, and set upright in it pieces of the rind of ash, white willow, and ozier, prepared as has been directed, by maceration in water; for in that way one trouble serves for an hundred kinds. Let an inch of the rinds also stand up out of the tincture. After twenty-four hours take them out, clip off the part which was immersed in the fluid, and save the rest for observation.

TO PREPARE THE BLEA.

Cut the pieces in a fit season, either just before the first leaves of Spring, or in the Midsummer shooting time. Then we see all the wonders of the structure; the thousands of mouths which open throughout the course of these innumerable vessels, to pour their fluid into the interstitial matter.

These vessels, which are in nature cisterns of sap for the feeding the growth of the whole tree, are so large, that they are capable of being filled with coloured wax, in the manner of the vessels in anatomical injections; and this way they present pleasing objects for the microscope, and afford excellent opportunities of tracing their course and structure.

A METHOD OF FILLING THE SAP VESSELS OF PLANTS.

A great many shoots of the scarlet and other oaks are to be taken off in the Spring; they must be cut into pieces of about two inches in length, and immediately from the cutting they must drop into some warm rain water: in this they are to stand twenty-four hours, and then be boiled a little. When taken out, they are to be tied on strings, and hung up in a place where the air passes freely, but the sun does not shine. When they are perfectly dry, a large quantity of green wax, such as is used for the seals of law deeds, is to be gently melted in an earthen pipkin set in water; the water to be heated and kept boiling. As soon as the wax runs, the sticks are to be put in, and they are frequently to be stirred about. They must be kept in this state about an hour, and then the pipkin is to be taken out of the water, and set upon a naked fire, where it is to be kept with the wax boiling for two or three hours; fresh supplies of the same wax being added from time to time.

After this it is to be removed from the fire, and the sticks immediately taken out with a pair of nippers; when they are cold, the rough wax about them is to be broken off. Both ends of each stick are to be cut off half an inch long, and thrown away, and the middle pieces saved. These are then to be cut in smaller lengths, smoothed at the ends with a fine chissel, and many of them split in various thicknesses.

Thus are obtained preparations, not only of great use, but of wonderful beauty. Many trees this way afford handsome objects as well as the oak; and in some, where the sap vessels are few, large, and distinct, the split pieces resemble striped satins, in a way scarce to be credited. It is in such that the outer coats of these vessels are most happily of all to be examined.

THE METHOD OF PREPARING SALTS AND SALINE SUBSTANCES, FOR THE VIEWING THEIR CONFIGURATIONS.

Dissolve the subject to be examined in no larger a quantity of river or rain water than is sufficient to saturate it; if it be a body easily dissoluble, make use of cold water, otherwise make the water warm or hot, or even boiling, according as you find it necessary. After it is perfectly dissolved, let it rest for some hours, till, if over-charged, the redundant saline particles are precipitated, and settle at the bottom, or shoot into crystals; by which means you are most likely to have a solution of the same strength at one time as at another; that is, a solution fully charged with as much as it can hold up, and no more; and by these precautions the configurations appear alike, how often soever tried: whereas, if the water be less saturated, the proportions, at different times, will be subject to more uncertainty; and if it be examined before such separation and precipitation of the redundant salts, little more will be seen than a confused mass of crystals.

The solution being thus prepared, take up a drop of it with a goose quill, cut in fashion of a scoop, and place it on a flat slip of glass, of about three quarters of an inch in width, and between three and four inches long, spreading it on the glass with the quill, in either a round or oval figure, till it appears a quarter of an inch or more in diameter, and so shallow as to rise very little above the surface of the glass. When it is so disposed, hold it as level as you can over the clear part of a fire that is not too fierce, or over the flame of a candle, at a distance proportionable to the degree of heat it requires, which experience only can direct, and watch it very carefully till you discover the saline particles beginning to gather and look white, or of some other colour, at the extremities of the edges; then having adjusted the microscope before-hand for its reception, armed with the fourth glass, which is the fittest for most of these experiments, place it under your eye, and bring it exactly to the focus of the magnifier; and after running over the whole drop, fix your attention on that side where you observe any increase or pushing forwards of crystalline matter from the circumference towards the center.

This motion is extremely slow at the beginning, unless the drop has been over-heated, but quickens as the water evaporates, and in many kinds, towards the conclusion, produces configurations with a swiftness inconceivable, composed of an infinity of parts, which are adjusted to each other with an elegance, regularity, and order, beyond what the exactest pencil in the world, guided by the ruler and compass, can ever equal, or the most luxurious imagination fancy.

When action once begins, the eye cannot be taken off, even for a moment, without losing something worth observation; for the figures alter every instant, till the whole process is over; and in many sorts, after all seems at an end, new forms arise, different entirely from any that appeared before, and which probably are owing to some small quantity of salt of another kind, which the other separates from, and leaves to act after itself has done; and in some subjects three or four different sorts are observable, few or none being simple and homogeneous.

When the configurations are fully formed, and all the water evaporated, most kinds of them are soon destroyed again by the moisture or action of the air upon them; their points and angles lose their sharpness, become uneven and defaced, and moulder as it were away; but some few are permanent, and by being inclosed between glasses, they may be preserved months or even years.

It happens oftentimes that a drop of a saline solution can hardly be spread on the slip of glass, by reason of the glass’s smoothness, but breaks into little globules, as it would do were the surface greasy: the way to prevent this is, by rubbing the broken drop with your finger over the glass, so as to leave the glass smeared with it; on which smeared place, when dry, another drop of the solution may be spread very easily in whatever form is agreeable.

It sometimes happens, that when a heated drop is placed properly for examination, the observer finds such a cloudiness that he can distinguish nothing of the object; which is owing to saline steams that arise from the drop, covering and obscuring the object glass, and therefore must immediately be wiped away with a soft cloth or leather.

In all examinations of saline solutions by the microscope, even though made in the day-time, you must use a candle; for the configurations, being exceedingly transparent, are rendered much more distinguishable by the brown light a candle affords, than by the more white and transparent day-light; and besides, either by moving the candle, or turning the microscope, such light may be varied or directed just as the subject requires.

It may be also proper to take notice, that no kinds of microscopes are fit for these observations, but such as have an open stage, whereon the slips of glass, with the liquor upon them, may be placed readily, and in a perfect horizontal position; and moreover, where they can be turned about freely, and without disordering the fluid.


CHAP. V.
THE IMPORTANCE OF NATURAL HISTORY; OF INSECTS IN GENERAL, AND OF THEIR CONSTITUENT PARTS.

There is no human science which to a rational mind exhibits a greater variety of attractions, or which is more deserving of general esteem, than that of NATURAL HISTORY; accordingly we find, that from the earliest times in which the sciences have been promulgated, it has never been entirely destitute of its votaries; but, on the contrary, has for ages employed the lives of many learned men, as being, in fact, the study of DIVINE WISDOM displayed in the creation: the farther our researches are carried, the more striking proofs of it every where abound. In the present century, an æra particularly devoted to investigation, and propitious to discovery and improvement in various branches of science, Natural History, so far from being neglected, has been more generally cultivated, and pursued with an ardor unprecedented at any former period. Men of the first rank in literature have become indefatigable labourers in the vast and unbounded field which it presents to the eyes of an accurate and attentive observer. The animal, the vegetable, and the mineral kingdoms, have been examined with the utmost care; that confusion and perplexity which seemed unavoidably to result from a view of the immense variety of articles contained in each of those departments, and which frequently deterred persons from engaging in the pursuit, have been in a great measure removed by the introduction of systematic arrangement; by these means, the various subjects are distributed into classes and genera, enabling us to form distinct and comprehensive ideas of them. To the same methodical plan, and the nicety of discrimination thence arising, we must attribute the discovery and description of many new species; this has excited an emulation still farther to pursue the inquiry, nor need any apprehension be entertained that the subject will be exhausted, as, no doubt, an infinite variety still remains unexplored to engage the utmost attention of the philosophic mind, and fully to compensate the pains bestowed on so interesting a branch of knowledge.

Of the abundance of articles enumerated in books of Natural History, there are comparatively few, whose uses are as yet known, or their properties fully understood. The true naturalist should always bear in mind that there is a vast difference between retaining the names, and investigating the nature and peculiar qualities of the creatures to which they belong. It is highly proper, indeed necessary, that the multifarious objects of Natural History should be well ascertained and distinguished with nicety in all their varieties; the science and admirers of it are, therefore, unquestionably indebted to the able naturalists who have devoted their time, and exercised their ingenuity in devising commodious methods of arrangement, and invented systems for identifying the several subjects with accuracy, and less danger of fallacy or mistake: but all who are, or would wish to be thought naturalists, ought to consider, that the best possible mode of classification is, after all, but an introduction to Natural History. The ingenious and indefatigable Linnæus, who spent his life in fabricating the curious system now generally adopted, intended it certainly for the improvement of the science, as a basis for the service of knowledge and the benefit of mankind; let us be cautious not to mistake the means for the end, but in the prosecution of the science, think of the true ends of knowledge, and endeavour to promote our own instruction, and the advancement of others, with a view to the adoration of that DIVINE BEING to whom all creation is indebted for existence, and their application to the occasions and uses of life, all along conducting and perfecting the study in the spirit of benevolence.

The study of nature, or in other words, a serious contemplation of the works of GOD, is indeed a great and proper object for the exercise of our rational faculties; nor can we perhaps employ them better, than in endeavouring to make ourselves acquainted with the works of that glorious Being from whom they were received.

Though there is a great deal of pleasure in contemplating the material world, or that system of bodies into which the DIVINE ARCHITECT has so admirably wrought the mass of dead matter, with the several relations which those bodies bear to one another; there is still something more wonderful and surprizing arising from the contemplation of the animated world; by which is to be understood all those animals with which every part of the universe is furnished. The material world is only the shell of the universe; the animated world are its inhabitants.

Existence is a blessing to those beings only which are endowed with perception, and appears useless when bestowed upon dead matter, any farther than as it is subservient to beings which are conscious of their existence. Thus we find, from the bodies which lie under our observation, that matter is only made as the basis and support of animals, and that there is no more of the one than what is necessary for the exigence of the other.

There are some living creatures which are raised but just above dead matter; there are many others, but one remove from these, which have no other senses but those of feeling and taste; others have still an additional sense of hearing; others of smell, and again others of sight. It is wonderful to observe, by what a gradual progress life advances through a prodigious variety of species, before a creature is formed that possesses all these senses; and even among these, there is such a different degree of perfection in the senses which one animal enjoys beyond what appears in another, that, though the sense in different animals be distinguished by the same common denomination, it seems almost of a different nature. If, after this, we look into the several inward qualities of sagacity, or what is generally called instinct, we find them rising after the same manner imperceptibly one above another, and receiving additional improvements, according to the species in which they are implanted. This progress in nature is so very gradual, that what appears to us the most perfect of an inferior species, comes very near to the most imperfect, as we are accustomed to call it, of that which is immediately above it.

The exuberant and overflowing goodness of the SUPREME BEING, whose mercy extends to all his works, is plainly seen, as before observed, from his having made so very little matter, at least what falls within our knowledge, that does not swarm with life; nor is his goodness less visible in the diversity than in the multitude of living creatures. Had he only made one species of animals, none else could have enjoyed the happiness of existence; he has, therefore, included in his creation, every degree of life, every capacity of being. The whole chasm of nature, from a plant to a man, is filled up with diverse kinds of creatures, rising one above another, by such a gentle and easy ascent, that the little transitions and deviations from one species to the other are almost insensible. This intermediate space is so prudently managed, that there is scarce a degree of perception which does not appear in some one part of the animated world. Is the goodness or the wisdom of the DIVINE BEING more manifest in this his proceeding?

In this system of creation there is no creature so wonderful in its nature, and which so much merits our particular attention, as man, who fills up the middle space between the animal and intellectual nature, the visible and invisible world; and is that link, in the chain of beings, which has been often termed the “nexus utriusque mundi.” So that he, who in one respect being associated with angels and arch-angels, may look upon a BEING of infinite perfection as his father, and the highest order of spirits as his brethren, may, in another respect, say to corruption, “Thou art my father, and to the worm, thou art my mother and my sister.”[46]

[46] Spectator, Vol. vii. Numb. 519.

There are, however, many who form their judgments of the works of nature from external appearance only; hence they imagine, that the greatest and most magnificent are the only perfect parts of creation, and worthy of our regard. Hence they confine their attention to the more splendid and shining branches of philosophy, and are too apt to treat the other parts with coolness and indifference, not to say contempt.

But surely a true philosopher is one who diligently pursues the study of nature in all its branches; who can behold with admiration her noblest productions, yet view with pleasure the smallest of her works: in short, one who thinks every thing excellent that owes its formation to the GOD of nature; and we need only take a transient view of the smaller creatures with which the earth is peopled, to discover that they are perfect in their kind, and carry about them as strong marks of infinite wisdom, power, and beneficence as the greatest. It has been justly said, “that there is not a vegetable that grows, nor an insect that moves, but what is sufficient to confound the Atheist, and to afford the candid observer endless materials for devout adoration and praise.”

If we examine insects with attention, we shall soon be convinced of their divine origin, and survey with admiration the wonderful art and mechanism of their structure, wherein such a number of vessels, parts, and movements are collected in a single point; yet are they furnished with weapons to seize their prey, dexterity to escape their foes, every thing requisite to perform the business of their stations, and enjoy the pleasures of their conditions. What a profusion of the richest ornaments and the gayest colours are often bestowed on one little insect! and yet there are thousands of others that are as beautiful and wonderful in their kind; some are covered with shining coats of mail, others are adorned with plumes of feathers, all of them furnished with every thing that is proper to make them answer the purposes for which they were designed.

“After an attentive examination of the nature and fabric of both the least and largest animals, I cannot,” says the great and excellent Swammerdam, “but allow the less an equal, perhaps a superior degree of dignity; whoever duly considers the conduct and instinct of the one, with the manners and actions of the other, must acknowledge, that they are all under the direction and controul of a supreme and particular intelligence; which, as in the largest it extends beyond the limits of our comprehension, escapes our researches in the smallest. If, while we dissect with care the larger animals, we are filled with wonder at the elegant disposition of their limbs, the inimitable order of their muscles, and the regular direction of their veins, arteries, and nerves, to what an height is our astonishment raised, when we discover all the parts arranged in the least, and in the same regular manner! How is it possible but we must stand amazed when we reflect, that those little animals, whose bodies are smaller than the point of the dissecting knife, have muscles, veins, arteries, and every other part common to the larger animals? Creatures so very diminutive, that our hands are not delicate enough to manage, or our eyes sufficiently acute to see them.”

The subserviency of the several beings in the visible creation to one another; the order in which each of them appears in that appointed season, when only it can be conducive to the purposes of the rest; and the preservation of a sufficient number of every species, amidst the immense havoc that reigns throughout, are, among other things, proofs of the amazing and incomprehensible wisdom by which they were all formed. With what pleasure does the mind, accustomed to look up from effects to their causes, from created beings to the GREAT SOURCE OF BEING, view that unbounded beneficence, which leaves not the smallest space, capable of supporting existence of any kind, unplanted with them. There is hardly any portion of matter, or the least drop of fluid naturally found on the surface of the earth, that is not inhabited by multitudes of animals; the subterraneous regions are peopled with their minute inhabitants, and the abyss of the sea, where no human eye can penetrate, abounds with animated beings.

The air is usually considered as the great source of destruction to bodies, whether animal or vegetable; but we do not always understand by what means or in what manner it is performed. What we term destruction and decay of one substance, occasions the production and ripening a multitude of others; wherever the air is admitted, with it a thousand different things find their way; and what is usually attributed to the effects of that fluid, is in general occasioned by the multitudes of bodies with which it is fraught. Redi observed, that flesh preserved from the access of flies, would bread no maggots; and it is as constant an observation, that vegetable substances will keep a long time in whatever state they are, if the air be excluded; but as soon as it is admitted, they also produce or afford their several kinds either of animal, or minuter vegetable inhabitants. In the first of these cases, the parent flies make their way to the exposed flesh, and there deposit their eggs for the production of a new offspring; in the other, multitudes of the seeds of minute plants and ovula of animals are floating in the air, and accompany it wherever it enters; if they be thus deposited in a place proper for vegetation and accretion, they burst their inclosures, and attain their growth as regularly as the seeds of plants deposited in the earth, or the eggs of larger animals in the nest.

The same wisdom which placed the sun in the center of the system, and arranged the several planets around him in their order, has no less shewn itself in the provision made for the food and dwelling of every bird that roams in the air, and every beast that wanders in the desert; equally great in the smallest and in the most magnificent objects; in the star and in the insect; in the elephant and in the fly; in the beam that shines from heaven and in the grass that cloathes the ground. Nothing is overlooked, nothing is carelessly performed: every thing that exists is adapted with perfect symmetry to the end for which it was designed. This wisdom displayed by the Almighty in the creation, was not intended merely to gratify curiosity and to raise wonder; it ought to beget profound submission, and pious trust in every heart.

Histories of the providence and caution, the care and foresight of the most inconsiderable among animal beings, must surely ever be read with pleasure and attention, as conveying a most beautiful lesson to a reflecting mind; it is impossible for any one thus instructed to think that the Great Being, who has been so careful of those inferior creatures, can be regardless of him whom he has placed in a station infinitely more exalted. Throughout the whole system of things, we behold a manifest tendency to promote the benefit either of the rational or the animal creation. In some parts of nature, this tendency may be less obvious than in others. Objects, which to us seem useless or hurtful, may sometimes occur; and strange it were, if in so vast and complicated a system, difficulties of this kind should not occasionally present themselves to beings, whose views are so narrow and limited as ours. It is well known, that in proportion as the knowledge of nature has increased among men, these difficulties have diminished. Satisfactory accounts have been given of many perplexing appearances; useful and proper purposes have been found to be promoted by objects which were at first thought to be unprofitable or noxious.[47]

[47] The great beauty of the dye produced by the cochineal insect, and the medical virtues of the cantharis, have occasioned them to be considered as very extensive and valuable articles of commerce. The benefits derived from the bee and the silk-worm are universally known; and spiders, could a method be devised to induce them to live in harmony, might also be productive of very essential advantages to the human race. Edit.

Malignant must be the mind of that person; with a distorted eye he must have contemplated creation, who can suspect that it is not the production of infinite benignity and goodness. How many clear marks of benevolent intention appear every where around us? What a profusion of beauty and ornament is poured forth on the face of nature? What a magnificent spectacle presented to the view of man? What a supply contrived for his wants? What a variety of objects set before him, to gratify his senses, to employ his understanding, to entertain his imagination, to cheer and gladden his heart? Indeed the very existence of the universe is a standing memorial of the goodness of the Creator; for nothing except goodness could originally prompt creation. No new accession of felicity or glory was to result to him from creatures whom he made: it was goodness communicating and pouring itself forth, goodness delighting to impart happiness in all its forms, which in the beginning created the heaven and the earth. Hence those innumerable orders of living creatures with which the earth is peopled, from the lowest class of sensitive being to the highest rank of reason and intelligence. Wherever there is life, there is some degree of happiness; there are enjoyments suited to the different powers of feeling; and earth, air, and water, are with magnificent liberality made to teem with life.[48]

[48] Blair’s Sermons.

Let us not then slight, or deem that unworthy our notice, in which immensity is so conspicuous; or that trivial, in which there is such a manifestation of infinite beneficence; but rather let those striking displays of creating goodness call forth, on our part, responsive love, gratitude, and veneration. To this Great Father of all existence and life, to Him who hath raised us up to behold the light of day, and to enjoy all the comforts which his world presents, let our hearts send forth a perpetual hymn of praise. Evening and morning let us celebrate Him who maketh the morning and the evening to rejoice over our heads; who “openeth his hand and satisfieth the desire of every living thing.” Let us rejoice that we are brought into a world, which is the production of infinite goodness; over which a supreme intelligence presides; and where nothing happens but by his divine permission for the wisest purposes. Convinced that he hateth not the works which he hath made, nor hath brought creatures into existence merely to suffer unnecessary pain, let us even in the midst of sorrow, receive with calm submission whatever he is pleased to send; thankful for what he bestows; and satisfied that, without good reason, he takes nothing away.

Such, in general, are the effects which meditation on the works of the creation ought to produce. It presents such an astonishing conjunction of power, wisdom, and goodness, as we cannot behold without religious veneration.

In short, the world around us is the mighty volume wherein god hath declared himself; a picture wherein his perfections are displayed. The book of nature is written in a character that every one may read; it consists not of words, but things; it is a school where GOD is the teacher. All the objects of sense are as the letters of an universal language, in which all people and nations have a common interest; the Creator himself has made this use of it, revealing his will by it, and referring man to it for instruction. Hence the universal agreement between nature and revelation; hence, also, he that can understand GOD as the Fountain of truth and the Saviour of men in the holy scriptures, will be better enabled to understand and adore him as the fountain of power and goodness in the natural creation. Thus will philosophy and divinity go hand in hand, and shew that the world was made, as the scriptures were written, for our instruction; and that the creation of GOD is a school for Christians, if they use it aright.[49]

[49] It is a curious, though melancholy subject of contemplation, to observe how different have been the sentiments of learned and reputedly pious men in times less enlightened; a period when attention to, or compassion for, the animal creation could find no place in a breast that withheld and denied the mercy of God unto men; when mercy itself was deemed heresy! Even in prior and purer times it was affirmed that “It is absurd, and a disparagement to the majesty of GOD to suppose him to know how many insects there are in the world, or how many fishes in the sea; yea, that such an idea of the Omniscience of GOD would be foolish flattery to Him, and an injury to ourselves.” For the satisfaction of the learned reader, I shall here quote the original. “Absurdum est ad hoc Dei deducere Majestatem, ut sciat per momenta singula quot nascantur culices, quotve moriantur; quæ cimicum et pulicum et muscarum sit in terra multitudo; quanti pisces in aqua natent, et qui de minoribus majorum prædæ cedere debeant. Non simus tam fatui Adulatores Dei, ut dum potentiam ejus ad ima detrahimus in nos ipsos injuriosi simus.” Hieronymi Comment. in Abac. Lib. 1. Edit. Basil. Tom. vi. p. 187. Edit.

A GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF INSECTS.

The subjects of that part of the creation we are now going to survey, merit our attention as exceeding the rest of animated nature in their numbers, the singularity of their appearance, and the variety of their forms. Earth, air, and water are filled with hosts of them. Being for the major part very small, and myriads so diminutive, as even to be imperceptible to the unassisted eye, our knowledge of them, and their component parts would be extremely circumscribed and imperfect, were it not for the advantages derived from the use of the microscope; but happily possessed of this valuable instrument, an inexhaustible source of entertainment and instruction is afforded to the curious inquirer into the wonders of nature. The beauties of the minuter parts of creation are not more hidden from our unassisted sight, than the ends and purposes of their œconomy from slight and superficial observation; the microscope does not more amaze and charm as with a discovery of the first, than the application of our faculties in investigating the latter.

The name of INSECT has been appropriated to these small animals on account of the sections or divisions that are observable in the bodies of the greatest part of them; though, perhaps, it is impossible to find any precise term that shall embrace the whole genera, as many particulars must be described before we can attain an exact notion of these animals and their structure.

An insect is now generally defined to be, an animated being whose head is furnished with antennæ; that is destitute of bones, but which, instead thereof, is covered with a very hard skin; that has six or more feet; and that breathes through spiracula, or pores placed in the side of the body.

To be more particular, quadrupeds, birds, and fishes have an internal skeleton of bones, to which the muscles are affixed; but the whole interior body of insects is composed of soft flesh, and the muscles are attached to an external skeleton, serving the double purpose of skin and bone.

Insects are by most writers considered as divided into four principal parts: the caput, or head; the thorax, or trunk; the abdomen, or belly; and artus, or limbs. A perfect knowledge of these parts, and their several subdivisions, is requisite for those who are desirous of forming accurate ideas of these minute animals, or who wish to arrange them in their proper classes.

The head is affixed to the thorax by a species of articulation or joint; it is the principal seat of the senses, and contains the rudiments of the brain;[50] it is furnished with a mouth, eyes, antennæ, a forehead, a throat, and stemmata. In the greater part of insects the head is distinctly divided from the thorax, but in others it coalesces with it. The head of some insects is very large compared with the size of their bodies; the proportion between the head of the same insect is not always similar; in the caterpillars with horny heads it is generally small, before they moult or change their skin, but much larger after each moulting. The hardness of the exterior part of the head prevents its growth before the change; it is, consequently, in proportion to the body very small; but when the insect is disposing itself for the change, the internal substance of the head retires inwards to the first ring of the neck, where it has room to expand itself; so that when the animal quits the skin, we are surprized with a head twice the former size; and, as the insect neither eats nor grows while the head is forming, there is this further circumstance to be remarked, that the body and the head have each their particular time of growth: while the head expands and grows, the body does not grow at all; when the body increases, the head remains of the same size, without any change. The heads of all kinds of insects, and their several parts, form very pleasing, as well as most diversified objects for the opake microscope.

[50] Fabricius Philos. Entomolog. p. 18.

Os, the mouth, is a part of the insect to which the naturalist will find it necessary to pay a very particular attention; Fabricius goes so far as to assert that, without a thorough knowledge of the mouth, its form, and various appendages, it will be impossible ever to discriminate with accuracy one insect from another. In the structure of the mouth considerable art and wisdom is displayed; the diversity of the figure is almost as great as the variety of species. It is usually placed in the forepart of the head, extending somewhat downwards; in the chermes, coccus, and some other insects, it is placed under the breast. In some insects, the mouth is forcipated, to catch, hold, and tear the prey; in others, aculeated, to pierce and wound animals, and suck their blood; in others, strongly ridged with jaws and teeth, to gnaw and scrape out their food, carry burdens, perforate the earth, nay the hardest wood, and even stones themselves, for habitations and nests for their young. Others are furnished with a kind of tube or tongue, at one time moveable, at another fixed; with this they suck the juices of the flowers: in some again the tongue is so short, as to appear to us incapable of answering the purpose for which it was formed, and the oestri appear to have no mouth.

Maxillæ, the jaws, are generally two in number; in some, four; in others, more. They are sometimes placed in an horizontal, sometimes in a transverse direction; the inner edge is serrated, or furnished with small teeth, as in the cicada, nepa, notonecta, cimex, (bug,) aphis, and remarkably so in some curculeones.

The rostrum, or proboscis, is in general a very curious and complicated organ; it is the mouth drawn out to a rigid point. In many insects of the hemiptera class, it is bent down towards the breast and belly. It has by some writers been considered as serving at once the different purposes of mouth, nose, and windpipe, enabling the insect to extract the juices of plants, communicate the sensation of smelling, and convey air to the body.

Lingua, the tongue, is a taper and compact instrument, by which the insect obtains the juices of plants. Some can contract or expand it, others roll it up with dexterity; in some it is inclosed within a sheath. It is taper and spiral in the butterfly, tubular and fleshy in the fly; in all affording agreeable amusement for the microscope. To exemplify which in one or two instances, while it relieves the reader from the tediousness of narration, will, it is hoped, animate him to farther researches on the subject.

OF THE PROBOSCIS OF THE BEE.

Every day’s experience shews that the more we penetrate into the hidden recesses and internal parts of natural bodies, the more we find them marked with perfection in form and design; of the truth of which observation the minute apparatus now to be described will, no doubt, ensure conviction. Swammerdam, when speaking thereof, breaks out into this pious and humble confession: “I cannot refrain,” says he, “from confessing to the glory of the Immense and Incomprehensible Architect, that I have but imperfectly described and represented this small organ; for, to represent it to the life in its full perfection, as truly most perfect it is, far exceeds the utmost efforts of human knowledge.”

From what has here been said, it will be easy to perceive, that the limits of these Essays will not permit our entering largely into a description of the minute parts of the proboscis of the bee; for an ample account of which recourse must be had to the works of Swammerdam and Reaumur. The last writer, like a skilful workman who takes to pieces a watch which he himself has made, exhibits to you the several parts of which it is composed, and explains their fitness, their adjustments, their uses, the play of the pivots, springs, and pillars; for all these parts, and many more, are to be found in the proboscis of a bee.

It is by this small instrument that the bee procures the food necessary for its subsistence. In a general view, it may be considered as consisting of seven pieces; one of these, i i, b c, Fig. 3. Plate XIII. is placed in the middle; this is supposed to be pervious, and to constitute what may be properly called the tongue; the other six smaller parts or sheaths, disposed in three pairs, are placed on each side of the former: they not only assist in extracting and gathering the honey from the flowers, but they also protect and strengthen the part. The proboscis itself is very curiously divided; the divisions are elegant and regular, and are beset all round with shaggy triangular fibres or villi, distributed in beautiful order: these divisions, though very numerous, appear at first sight as a number of different articulations. The tongue, considered with respect to its length, may be said to have three articulations; one with the head, then a kind of cylindrical horny substance, which forms as it were a base for the true tongue, which is not horny, but soft, fleshy, and pliable.[51]