Part 21
This extraordinary fact leads us to a very singular and unexpected conclusion--that we have the power of lengthening or shortening the life of many insects at pleasure; that we can cause one individual to live more than twice as long as another of the same species, and _vice versâ_. Had Paracelsus made this discovery, it would have led him to pursue his researches after the elixir of immortality with redoubled confidence, and would have supplied him with an argument for the possibility of prolonging the life of man beyond its usual term, which his sceptical opponents would have found some difficulty in rebutting. Even the logical Reaumur seems inclined to infer from it, that this object of the alchemists was not so chimerical as we are wont to conclude[630]. He confesses, however, if it were to be attained only by the same process as effects the extension of an insect's life--by prolonging its state of torpor and insensibility,--that few would choose to enjoy it on such conditions. The man of pleasure, blunted by excess of use to all modern stimuli, might perhaps not object to a sleep of a hundred years, in the hope of finding something new under the sun when he waked; and an ardent astronomer would probably commit himself with scientific joy to a repose as long and as sound as that of the seven sleepers, for the chance of viewing his predicted return of a comet, on stepping out of his cave: but ordinary mortals would consign themselves to the perils of so long a night with reluctance, apprehending a fate no better than what befel the magician, who ordered himself to be cut in small pieces and put in pickle, with the expectation of becoming young again[631].
The duration, then, of an insect's existence in the pupa state, depends upon its bulk, upon the temperature to which it is exposed, and upon a combination of these two circumstances. This experiment appears very simple. We seem to ourselves to have accomplished what is so often undertaken in vain--to have found an entrance into the cabinet of Nature, and to have made ourselves masters of the contents of one of the pages of her sealed and secret book. We deceive, ourselves, however: this book, when it seems most legible, is often interlined with _sympathetic inks_, if I may so speak, which require tests unknown to us for their detection. If you lay up a considerable number of the pupæ of a moth now called _Eriogaster lanestris_, the larva of which is not uncommon in June on the black-thorn, selected precisely of the same size, and exposed to exactly the same temperature, the greater number of them will disclose the perfect insect in the February following; some not till the February of the year ensuing, and the remainder not before the same month in the third year[632]. Mr. Jones of Chelsea, a most acute lepidopterist, in one of his excursions captured a female of _Arctia mendica_, another moth, which laid a number of eggs, thirty-six of which produced caterpillars: all these fed, spun their cocoons, and went into the pupa state in the usual manner, but at the proper season only twelve produced the fly. As this was no uncommon circumstance, he concluded that the rest were dead: to his great astonishment, however, in the next season twelve more made their appearance; and the following year the remainder burst into life, equally perfect with the foregoing[633]. In this extraordinary result, which also occasionally has been observed to take place in the emperor-moth (_Saturnia pavonia_), the privet-hawkmoth (_Sphinx Ligustri_), and that of the spurge (_S. Euphorbiæ_)[634], and other species,--it is clear that something besides mere size and temperature is concerned: for, these circumstances being precisely alike, one pupa arrives at maturity in six months, and another of the same brood requires between two and three years. We can guess, that the end which the All-wise Creator has in view, in causing this remarkable difference, is the prevention of all possibility of the destruction of the species. _Eriogaster lanestris_ and _Arctia mendica_, &c., for instance, are doomed, for some reason unknown to us[635], to be disclosed from the pupa in the cold and stormy months of February and March, almost every day of which in certain years is so ungenial that few insects could then survive exposure, much less deposit their eggs and ensure the succession of a progeny. Now, were all these to make their appearance in the perfect state in the _same_ year, it might happen that the whole race in a particular district would be destroyed. But this possibility is effectually guarded against by the beautiful provision under consideration, it being very improbable that three successive seasons should be throughout unfavourable; and without such occurrence, it is clear that some of the race of this moth will be preserved. In the case of other moths, whose pupæ though disclosed in the summer are governed by the same rule, the prevention of the extinction of the species, by any extraordinary increase in a particular year of their natural enemies, seems the object in view[636]. But though the intention be thus obvious, the means by which it is effected are impenetrably concealed. What physiologist would not be puzzled with the eggs of a bird, of which one-third should require for their hatching to be sat upon only a fortnight, another third a month, and the remainder six weeks? Yet this would be an anomaly exactly analogous to that observed by Mr. Jones with respect to the pupæ of _A. mendica_. Reaumur found that when the skin of pupæ was varnished, so as to prevent absorption, the appearance of the fly happened nearly two months later than in ordinary circumstances. Are we to conjecture that those of the moth just mentioned, or of _E. lanestris_, that are latest matured, from a greater degree of viscidity in the fluid that forms them[637], have thicker and more impervious skins than those disclosed at an earlier period? Or are we to refer the difference to some unknown peculiarity of organization? On any supposition, the fact remains equally wonderful; and I know of none the illustration of which is more worthy of the patient investigation of the physiologist.
As the period of maturity of the perfect insect is thus in some cases not fixed even to years, and as in many it seems dependent upon such variable causes; nothing appears more improbable than that it should ever be so strictly determined, that even the week in which the fly will leave its pupa-case can be pretty accurately predicted. Such, however, is the fact with regard to the _Ephemera_ so interestingly described by Reaumur, the myriads of which that issue from the banks of the Seine all appear in two or three days, somewhere between the 10th and 18th of the month of August[638] in every year; at which time the fishermen regularly expect them. A like regularity attends the appearance of those described by Swammerdam, which every year, for three days about the feast of St. John, issue in clouds from the Rhine[639]--Not only is the week fixed, but in several instances even the hour. The Ephemeræ observed by Reaumur appear at no other time than between _eight_ and _ten_ o'clock in the _evening_; and so unalterably is their exclusion fixed, that neither cold nor rain can retard it. Between these hours, in the evenings on which they appear, you may see them fill the air, but an hour before or after, you will in vain look for one[640]. So also the silkworm-moth and the hawkmoth of the evening primrose (_Sphinx Œnotheræ_) constantly break forth from the pupa at _sunrise_: and the hawkmoth of the lime (_Smerinthus Tiliæ_) as certainly at _noon_[641]. Schroeter states, that of sixteen specimens of the death's-head-hawkmoth (_S. Atropos_) which he bred, every one was disclosed between _four_ and _seven_ o'clock in the _afternoon_[642].
Before I conclude this head, I must observe, that after a caterpillar or gnat has spun its cocoon, it sometimes remains for a considerable period before it incloses itself in the pupa-case, and casts off the form of a larva. Thus the little parasite (_Ichneumon glomeratus_ L.) that destroys the caterpillar of the common cabbage-butterfly, remains a larva in its cocoon for many months, but it becomes a perfect insect a few days after it has put on its puparium[643]; and the caterpillars of the great goat-moth (_Cossus ligniperda_), if they spin their cocoon in the autumn, remain in it through the winter in the larva state; whereas, if they inclose themselves in the month of June, they assume the pupa, so as to appear as flies in three or four weeks[644]. It is not therefore easy to state precisely the age of those pupæ which are produced from larvæ that spin cocoons.
v. I have not much to say with regard to the _sex_ of pupæ. The male is probably to be distinguished from the female by being smaller; but in the first great division of pupæ, those which resemble the larvæ, and are locomotive, the female in numerous cases may be known by the Ovipositor, or instrument for depositing her eggs in their proper station: and the male also has his anal instruments. Sometimes in this state the animal is so matured, as to be capable of continuing its kind. I have found the pupæ both of a _Gryllus_ L. and of a _Cimex_ L. _in coitu_.
vi. Though the pupæ of the second great division are usually not locomotive, yet I must not omit some notice of their _motions_. As the legs of insects in this state are folded within a common or partial integument, of course none of the pupæ now under consideration, with the exception of those of the _Trichoptera_ order, can walk: _coarctate_ ones are even incapable of the slightest motion, and exhibit no symptom whatever of animation. Some of those that are termed _incomplete_, however, and most chrysalises, have the power of communicating to their bodies a slight movement, extending more or less in different species, which is effected by the abdominal segments solely. The latter, during the first twelve hours of being pupæ, when their skin is soft, frequently turn themselves, that the side on which they lie may not be flattened; afterwards by far the majority merely wriggle or twist their abdomen when touched, or in any way incommoded or disturbed. We learn from De Geer, that the pupa of the ghost-moth (_Hepialus Humuli_), the cocoon of which is more than twice the length of the chrysalis, moves in it from one end to the other[645]. Bonnet observed one of a moth (perhaps _Lasiocampa Quercus_), which alternately fixed itself at the top and bottom of its spacious and obliquely-fixed cocoon; descending slowly, but ascending as quickly, and almost in the same manner, as a chimney-sweeper in a chimney[646]. The pupa of the weevil of the water-hemlock (_Lixus paraplecticus_) will move from one end of the interior of a branch to another by means of its _adminicula_, aided by the motion of its abdominal segments[647]. But the most locomotive of pupæ of the second division are those of gnats, and many Tipulidans, which pass this state in the water. These will move from the bottom to the surface, and back again, with great facility and velocity. I have before mentioned several other motions of pupæ[648], which I shall not repeat here, by which they extricate themselves from their several places of intermediate repose, before they leave the puparium: if the imago were to be disclosed in the interior of a tree, or in the earth, its wings would be materially injured in forcing its way out. The object of several of the above motions may be to alarm insects that might attack these defenceless beings. The twirling motion in particular, formerly noticed[649], in some species, by causing a rustling against the sides of the cocoon, makes a considerable noise--so singular in that of a red underwing-moth (_Noctua pacta_), that Rösel tells us, (who by the by was more timid than becomes a philosopher,) that the first time he heard it, he had nearly thrown away the box that contained it, in his fright[650].
vii. We are next to consider _The extrication of the perfect insect from the puparium, or pupa-case, and from the cocoon_. The period when the pupa has attained maturity, and the inclosed insect is ready to burst the walls of its prison, may be often ascertained. Just at this time the colour frequently undergoes an alteration, the golden or silver tint of the gilded chrysalises vanishes; and those which are transparent, usually permit the form and colours of the insect within and the motions of their limbs to be distinctly seen through them. In the _Libellulina_ the eyes become more brilliant[651]. The mature pupæ of the moth lately mentioned (_Eriogaster lanestris_) have a particular swell of the abdominal segments, not apparent in those that are to continue till another season, or longer[652]. Those of the case-worms (_Trichoptera_) push off the grates from the cases which they have hitherto inhabited, and swim about[653]. Other signs and motions doubtless predict the approach of this great change in other species, which have not been recorded.
The mode in which insects make their way out of the _puparium_ differs in different orders. In _obtected_ pupæ, the struggles of the included butterfly or moth first effect a longitudinal slit down the middle of the thorax, where there is usually a suture for the purpose. The slit rapidly extends along the head, and down the parts which compose the breast, and the insect gradually withdraws itself from its case. It is not, however, from the outer skin merely that it has to disengage itself, but also from a series of inner membranous cases, which separately inclose the antennæ, proboscis, feet, &c., as a glove does the fingers; and similar cases inclose the parts of the perfect insect in pupæ of all the other orders. This is sometimes a work of difficulty, but ordinarily it is effected with ease.
_Incomplete_ and _semicomplete_ pupæ undergo nearly the same process, save that in them the body is not swathed up in a common case; and therefore they have only to liberate themselves from the partial cases that envelop the several parts of their body.
In _coarctate_ pupæ, as those of _Muscidæ_, _Syrphidæ_, _Œstridæ_, &c., the process is different. Their outer-case is ordinarily more rigid and destitute of the sutures, which in the former tribes so easily yield to a slight effort. Yet in these, at the anterior end under which the head of the fly lies, and from which it always issues, there is commonly a sort of lid, joined by a very indistinct suture to the rest, which can be pushed off, leaving a sufficient opening for the egress of the insect. In the pupæ of many of this tribe this lid is composed of two semicircular pieces, which can be separately removed. Many species seem to be able to force off the lid of their puparium, by merely pushing against it with their heads: but the common flesh-fly and many other _Muscidæ_, which are perhaps too feeble to effect this, or whose puparia are stronger than ordinary, are furnished with a very remarkable apparatus for this express and apparently sole purpose. They are gifted with the power of introducing _air_ under the middle part of the head, to which the antennæ are fixed, and of inflating that part into a sort of membranous vesicle as big as the head itself; by the action of which against the end of the pupa-case, the lid is soon forced off. So powerful is this singular lever, that it is even sufficient to rupture the fibrous galls in which the pupæ of the gay-winged _Tephritis Cardui_[654] are inclosed. That it is designed by Creative Wisdom to answer this sole purpose seems proved, from its disappearing soon after the disclosure of the fly, whose head shortly becomes all alike hard. Reaumur suspects that it may also be intended to promote the circulation of the insect's fluids; but to me his reasons appear not conclusive[655]. In one instance a mode still more unexpected obtains. The illustrious naturalist just named found that the fly which proceeded from one of the rat-tailed grubs (_Elophilus_ Latr.) had actually the power of completely reversing its situation in its narrow case; and that it then employed its _tail_ in pushing off the lid, which other species remove by means of their _heads_[656].
The extrication of insects whose pupæ are above ground, like those of butterflies, many beetles, flies, &c., is comparatively a simple operation. But what, you will ask, becomes of those species whose pupæ are concealed deep in the earth, or in the heart of the trees on which their larvæ have fed? Of this you shall be informed.--_Coleopterous_ insects disclosed from pupæ thus circumstanced, wait until their organs have acquired strength, and their elytra are sufficiently hardened to protect their filmy wings from damage in forcing their way through the earth or wood which covers them. Thus _Oryctes nasicornis_, a rhinoceros beetle common on the Continent, is a full _month_ before it reaches the surface of the earth, after quitting its puparium. But it is evident that no delay would enable _lepidopterous_ or _dipterous_ insects, which are without elytra, to make their way out of such situations, without irreparable injury to their delicate wings. Many of these, therefore, while still within the hard case of the pupa, have the precaution, a few days previously to their exclusion, to force themselves up to the surface of the earth, or, when they reside in the interior of trees, to the entrance of their hole. This is effected by a successive wriggling of the abdominal segments, which in several species, of the _Coleoptera_, _Lepidoptera_, and _Diptera_ orders, for this purpose, as has been more than once observed[657], are furnished with sharp points (_adminicula_), admitting a progressive, but not a retrograde motion. The puparia of the great goat-moth (_Cossus ligniperda_) may be often seen projecting from orifices in willow-trees; and those of the common crane-fly (_Tipula oleracea_) from the surface of the earth, to which they have thus made their way from a depth of several inches.
In all the preceding instances the exclusion of the perfect insect is complete, as soon as it has withdrawn itself from the puparium. But to a very large number, even after this is effected, the arduous task still remains of piercing the cocoons of leaves, of thick silk, of tough gum, or even of wood, in which the pupæ are incased. We can readily conceive how the strong jaws of _coleopterous_ and _hymenopterous_ species may be employed to release them from their confinement. But what instruments can be used for this purpose by _moths_ in a state of great debility, whose mouth has nothing like jaws--merely a soft membranous proboscis? How shall the silkworm-moth (_B. Mori_) force its way through the close texture of a silken ball, through which the finger could not be easily pushed? Or the puss-moth (_Cerura Vinula_) pierce the walls of its house of glue and wood, which scarcely yield to the knife? You will not doubt that these difficulties have been foreseen by INFINITE WISDOM, and provided against by INFINITE POWER. The egress of moths from their cocoons is secured in two ways;--either by some peculiarity in the first construction of the cocoon by the caterpillar, or by some process which the pupa or perfect insect is instructed to perform. As examples of each, several curious instances may be cited.
The larva of the moth which about 1760 made such havoc in the province of Angoumois in France, becomes a pupa in the interior of the grain of wheat which it has excavated; but the opening by which it first entered is not bigger than a pin's point, and is quite insufficient for the egress of the moth. How, then, is the latter to force its way through the tough skin which surrounds it? The larva, previously to assuming the pupa state, gnaws out a little circular piece at that end of the grain where the head of the future moth would lie, taking care not to detach it entirely. At this little door, which is sufficient to protect it from intruders, the moth has but to push, when it falls down, and leaves a free passage for its exit. A contrivance almost similar is adopted by a caterpillar which feeds in the interior of the heads of a species of teazel (_Dipsacus_ L.), for a minute and interesting history of which we are indebted to Bonnet. This caterpillar previously to its metamorphosis actually cuts a circular opening in the head, sufficiently large for the egress of the future moth; but to secure this sally-port during its long sleep, it artfully closes it with fibres of the teazel, closely but not strongly glued together[658]. Another small caterpillar described by the same author, resides in the leaf of an ash curiously rolled up into a cone, and then assumes the pupa, which is inclosed in a silken cocoon, ingeniously suspended by two threads like a hammock in the middle of its habitation, and of so slight a texture that it presents no obstacle to the extrication of the moth. It is the closely-joined sides of its leafy dwelling that form a barrier, which, were it not for the precaution of the larva, would be impenetrable to so small and weak an animal. The little provident creature, before its change to a pupa, gnaws in the leaf a round opening, taking care not to cut through the exterior epidermis. This door is to serve the