tire 0 ms ark pa pk ret ir 4 A pairrw WN Si ere ‘Y: MA aH ahs AL ai Mahan Pat » o oa Be nee ee Fear pet of . Faso le teret> Pere atl haters Pee ak tee, 6 pl ot wna rites Fel. TP in nih i é | | oi 5, bs _ 1 ri BS SS 0X "NVIN V DNIMJIWIW SDNVLNO-DNVAO FHL === LSSSEESS aes —S—> ATT ” Mh Sa 8 II WONDERS .OF MAN AND NATURE THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS WITH ILLUSTRATIVE ANECDOTES ——_ OY ra | Dg a ILLUSTRATED O\ || —_ ome | | ae 38. The two Rivals. . . .© . 6) Sem deanna 39. Stag endeavoring to deceive the Mornite. ae 40. The Elephant protecting a Dog. : ° Shyiiseaie ° 41. The Elephant acting as a Nurse. ° ° : ° . 42. The Elephant rescuing a Soldier. ° ° ° © e 43. The Elephant becomes a Courtier. . . .« -e« e« 44. Fidelity of a troop of Bavarian Horses. . oc ae 45. A Musical Connoisseur. . 6, (| LIZT OF ILLUSTRATIONS. mi . Goose Attachment. ° ° ° e e ° ° ° . A Goose Acting as Guide. . e e e e ° . The Drake leading the Lady to the ne . . . . The Bear tending her Young. , ° ’ . ° . . Rats following an Army. . ° ° ° ° ° ° . Rats attacking the Spirit Casks. at is . The Hare running in a Straight Line. The Rabbit Dowkttiag N ar ve: Ree *? Reyes Son wine RY —S THE marvels of animal intelligence claim now, more than ever, the attention of observers. Without admitting, like some people, that we come from a quadruped ; without approving the beast worship of the Egyptians; we believe that most animals which crawl or walk on the earth, or fly in the air, form communities like ourselves. We believe that the lower animals possess, in a certain degree, the faculties of man, and that our inferior brothers, as Francis of Assisi calls them, preceded us on the earth. We agree with Montaigne, Réaumur, La Fontaine, George Leroy, and Frederick Cuvier, in the intelligence of animals; we admit, with Cabanis, that there exists an intimate connection between the organisation and the intellectual faculties ; and, with Gall, that the intelligence principally operates through the brain. We do not believe that the habits, industry, and art of animals remain immutable. Has it not been observed, times out of number, that old animals are more cunning than young ones? The little bird which builds its nest for the first time fashions it and places it 4 PREFACE. badly. By degrees it perfects its work, so that the nest leaves nothing to be desired—the artist has attained the ideal. It is thus that, by the repeated exercise of the memory, combined with reflection, the animal improves itself. The bird of prey teaches its little ones to fly in the air, to balance themselves there, to keep themselves immovable, to slacken or quicken their flight, to calculate distances, and to pounce down upon the victim. Look, also, at the swallows, when about to depart. The youngest, who have not yet undertaken the voyage, prepare them- selves several days before by a multiplicity of evolutions, After several repetitions, their parts being well known, and the instruction perfect, the signal is given, the large army flies away, well prepared by discipline for the journey. The wolf, so greedy of flesh, does not succeed in its carnivorous trade except after a long apprenticeship } The intellectual manifestations in animals are connected with their organisation and their nervous system ; this is what we shall show, in studying the principal families of animals. 7 It is known that the animal kingdom may be divided into five great orders :— 1. Vertebrated. 2. Articulated or annelidze. 3. Mollusks. 4. Radiated or zoophytes. 5. Protozoa. PREFACE. ; xi Protozoa, a name taken from the Greek, signifies first animal, and presents the most simple organisation. Formed of separate cells, we do not recognise in them any distinct organ. | We can understand that, in such elementary beings, it is difficult to find the least trace of intelligence. The Radiated animals owe their name to the disposition - of their organs round a nervous centre, and are also called zoophytes, because they have something of the form and organisation of plants. Their nervous system is little de- veloped; and it is difficult to note intelligence in these beings, that have neither head nor heart, neither arms nor legs ; in which animal life is scarcely separated from matter; created only to eat. The sole organ they possess is a stomach, an alimentary bag, sometimes divided into many pockets or cavities, and having only one opening to receive the food. . As we go higher in the series of beings, we see near this stomach a brain, nerves, and delicate senses fitted for all functions ; so that the more perfect beings do not only live to eat, but also to feel, act, and exercise, more or less, their nervous energy. Among the Radiated we may consider the walk of the sea-star as an act of intelligence. This animal disposes its rays in such a manner that they suit the form of the object on which it crawls, whether sand, large stones, or small pebbles. The “star” climbs thus on the perpendicular xi PREFACE. rocks, attaching itself firmly. This sea-star discerns per fectly, by the aid of touch, on what ground it finds itself, and the obstacles to be surmounted, and acts in the most intelligent manner according to circumstances. Thus, in the class of Radiated animals, we meet with the first elements of a nervous system, and the first mani- festations of intelligence. The Mollusks are known by their soft body, without an interior skeleton. ‘They possess a nervous system but little developed, and usually composed of two parts; one over the food-passage, the other beneath, and joined by a mem- brane, which surrounds the gullet with a real nervous band. Some small glands are disposed round the principal organs, and attached to the brain by threads of communication. Some mollusks are gifted with organs of motion, of vision, and of muscular contraction. Those which are covered with a shell, like the oysters, are called testaceous mollusks. If we take the most perfect type, the cephalopods—those that have the brain protected by a little cartilage that may be compared to a skull, and the most complete circulatory apparatus, we recognise in them signs of intelligence. Nor are the gasteropods wanting in similar faculties, as may be seen in the snails, which find out every night the fruits and plants suitable for food, although each morning they go far away to make their siesta till the evening. But it is in the class of émzsects, and especially of hymenopterous insects, that we find proofs of intelligence. PREFACE, xiii So we shall not seriously begin our study till we come to these little beings. Their body is symmetrical, composed, in the greater number, of a succession of joints or rings, to hold the intestines. As their forms are best developed, so their nervous system is equally energetic. They possess a brain, nervous chords round the gullet, and a series of glands below the intestinal canal. The animal and in- tellectual life ought to be the more elevated, as it abounds in nervous and sensitive elements. “We note in these animals,” says Réaumur, “as much as in any of the others, proceedings which lead us to believe in their having a certain degree of intelligence.” Other naturalists have pretended that, in this respect, these insects surpass all other animals. The forms of life in insects agree with the one great plan of organisation, and though very different from animals with a more complex system, do not differ from the general type of organised beings. The forces which organise a mite’s body are not smaller, according to Réaumur, than those required by an elephant’s structure. We ought not to have needed philosophy to teach us that great and small are only words of comparison with respect to ourselves, The structure of microscopic insects is often more admirable than that in animated masses of colossal size. The produc- tion of insects seems then to require as many energies and as high a mechanism as that of the larger animals. In some respects insects have the superiority. In all the XIV PREFACE. large animals there are only two eyes. The common fly has eight thousand; and some have counted twenty-five thousand in certain butterflies. ach of these organs pre- sents, though in microscopic proportions, the greater part of the divisions which are found in the composition of our eye. Closely crowded together, these eyes make up for immova- bility by quantity. Their mass is such, that in certain flies they occupy nearly the whole of the head, and even equal in weight one-fourth of the body. The shape and colour of these eyes are not less various or less remarkable, corresponding, undoubtedly, with modifications in the sense of seeing. Insects which seek their food during the night have eyes formed to receive the few rays of light which meet them. In the carnivorous insects they are larger. Certain aquatic species show sometimes several pairs of eyes. Some are directed upwards, others down, so that, while swimming on the water, the animal sees the fish which threatens him, or the bird which is ready to pounce upon him. Others have three little eyes, arranged in the form of a triangle, on their heads, making three powerful microscopes. We find these eyes in insects inhabiting dimly-lighted places, or living in nests. They must be able to perceive the smallest objects when exceed- ingly near. - . Insects possess a very delicate sense of smell. The slightest odours strike them at the greatest distances. Distant honey attracts bees. We see them going far to PREFACE, XV seek the flowers which inclose it. The fly smells from afar the meat fitted to yield it food. Each insect knows perfectly how to recognise what agrees with it. Those who eat jalap, or other drugs, take the nutritive part, showing great care not to touch that which is purging. Cuvier and Duméril place the seat of smelling in the small openings, in the shape of a button-hole, called stig- mata, by which the air is introduced into the breathing tubes. There is here, says Mr. Pouchet, a manifest analogy to the situation of the nose, which is placed, in the large animals, at the entrance of the breathing apparatus. De Blainville thought that this sense is in the antennz, little movable horns found in front of the head. Indeed, these, like the nostrils of the large animals, contain the first pair of nerves which come from the brain. Somé experiments made by Dugés tend to demonstrate that it is really these antennz which represent the organ of smelling. After cutting them off butterflies and flies, these insects could no longer go in search of their food. We must acknowledge that the insect’s ear is not anatomically known, but we ought not to doubt its exist- ence, for many insects produce noises by means of which they call and reply to each other. It appears that touch is seated in the antenne. It suffices to see an insect go out of his hole and explore its environs with his antennz to be convinced of this fact. It XVi1 ~PREFACE, is by the help of these organs that insects seem tc measure bodies, try to lift them, and ascertain if they are tuo heavy, too hot, or too cold. We have insisted on the wonderful organisation of insects in, order to suggest their intellectual aptitudes. Camper admitted that the more animals had the facial angle acute, the lower was their intelligence. Wite has rendered this principle obvious by figuring the heads of a long series of the vertebrated, from man to the crane, in which the extreme lengthening of the face corresponds with its intellectual inferiority. Mr. Pouchet thinks that we might execute a similar work for insects. At the be- ginning of the list would be found, according to this naturalist, the carnivorous beetles; at the bottom of the scale the timid weevils, with slender, elongated mouths, which would correspond perfectly with the cranes. After many observations, we conclude that the most intelligent insects are the hymenoptera, bees and ants; and think that if any one compares the size of an ant’s head with its body, Camper’s law would be confirmed. ‘The insect, the ant, above all, is as well organised in the brain as the greater part of animals We shall, then, commence our study with the ants. THE [INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. ANTS. THEIR ACTIVITY, INDUSTRY, HABITS, LANGUAGE, AND GOVERNMENT. THE intelligence of the ants has been a subject of remark for many ages. The old biographer Plutarch relates the observations made on these insects by the Greek philo- sopher Cleanthes, three hundred years before the Christian era. The French philosopher and essayist Montaigne describes their wonderful means of mutual communication without the aid of speech. Their organisation is, indeed, very remarkable. The head is large; the jaw strong; the antenne long and delicate ; the feet small, and furnished with claws, by which they cling to objects; the body light, without orna- ment, or any means of protection. The ants, when hatched, are completely naked; but they have good nurses, who lavish on them the most assiduous care, bestow upon them the most tender caresses, expose them to the sun in warm weather, and keep them in the cells when it becomes cold. B 2 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS, The ants make up for the weakness of their bodies by the swiftness of their feet, the fineness of their touch, and the number of their eyes, which inform them of approaching danger. ‘They possess a powerful acid, which is ejected against foes, and, in some specics, will even blacken or burn the trees on which these insects make their nests. They have a government, too, which is a pure democracy, and seems to realise the political dreams of Plato, or those of Sir Thomas More. Of course, in this insect republic the property belongs equally to all; even the babies are claimed by the state. The whole community forms a_ brotherhood, and no individual is distinguished by aught save ardent love for the public good. The females are at all times sur- rounded by a respectful court, are even carried in triumph when fa- tigued, and nourished with the richest food. But they have no Ants, SS pg Ne influence at all in the politics of the state, and are quite content with being the mothers of a powerful community. ‘These ladies are thus honoured while living; and Huber de- clares that they are even buried with an extraordinary display of ant magnificence. All governing power rests in the mass of the society. | These facts prove, surely, intelligence in the ants. We think it needless to speak of the instincts or sagacity of the female workers, which are wood-cutters, carpenters, and ANTS, 3 purveyors ; or to reproduce the excellent description given by Huber of the ants’ nests. However, we will give some account of the ash-coloured ants, which construct their nests differently from all other species. Their work is, indeed, simple, compared with the ingenuity of the red or meadow ants; but they, at least, build lke intelligent apprentices. Their hill is formed of -a dome of earth, closed entirely, except at the bottom, where it is entered by a long and winding gallery, hidden in the earth at some distance from the nest. “Tf they wish to raise the house higher,” says Victor Rendu, “they begin by covering the top with a layer of earth drawn from the interior. In this stratum they then trace the plan of another story. First, one of the ants digs little furrows at unequal distances, but nearly of the same depth. The solid ridges of earth between the minute excavations serve as foundations for the inner walls, which form par- titions for the various working chambers connected with them. The excavated earth is used for constructing the ceiling. When the cells have been formed in the trenches, the architect has only to finish the roof. One worker begins to take away the earth; she makes a furrow, which by degrees becomes a lane, on each side of which is a bank. This lane forms at last a scrt of path, leading to the gal- lery, at the bottom of the nest. When this is finished, another ant begins another gallery, which is also near to the apartments of the nest. The ants which thus trace the plan of a wall, apartment, gallery, or avenue, work each one by itself; and sometimes it happens, in consequence, that the different parts of the structure do not agree one ) with the other. One arch, for instance, is closed up ; or is too low for the wall to which it should be joined ; some B 2 4 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS, times it is only half the height it should be. Such an obstacle appears insurmountable for such a feeble insect. The ash-coloured ants are not startled at this; one ant - passes, sees the error, destroys the road commenced, raises the wall on which the path should rest, and makes a new road, which this time, constructed by an experienced work- man, fulfils perfectly all the conditions. Is not this an act of comparison, of judgment, and of intelligence ?” “Tt is when the ant commences such an enterprise,” says Iluber, ‘‘that we see she thinks while she works, and realises her ideas in her work. When one of these insects sees on the nest two little bits of grass, which cross one another, and ‘which would serve for the construction of a cell, or when she sees several small sticks of angular shape, she examines all these things, and then places a little earth in each of the spaces and along the sides of the sticks with great skill, without paying any attention to the work that others may have sketched already. So much is she ruled by the idea that she has conceived, and which she carries out without distraction, that she goes, comes, and returns, until her idea is understood by the others; then all work together in common to carry out the plan which one has cormenced. ‘The first ant which conceives a plan sketches it ; the others have only to continue the work commenced. At the inspection of the first works, the insects judge which they will undertake ; they know how to sketch, continue, polish, or complete their work, according to circumstances. Their teeth-like jaws serve for cutting tools, their antennz for instruments of measurement; and their front feet are the trowels with which they mix the mortar, apply, spread, and fix it as solid cement.” Dr. Ebrard, an author of keen observation on the habits” ANTS. 5 of the ant, was one day witness of the stratagem of a black ant, which showed the most ingenious calculation on the part of the insect. ‘‘ One day,” says he, “I saw on the summit of an ant-hill an entire sketch of a new story in construction. It was a series of galleries, formed by two parallel walls, half covered and intersected by numerous and unfinished cells. The upper parts of the party walls w these little rooms projected inwards about one-tenth of an inch, leaving spaces between, about seven-tenths of an inch wide, uncovered. The black ants do not fetch bits of sticks or grass, neither do they construct pillars. How did they contrive, then, to tinish covering in the cells before the materials forming the arches fell by their own weight ? The soil was wet, and the work in full force. It was a constant running to and fro of ants, coming from their subterraneous dwelling, and carrying particles of earth, which they adapted to the old constructions. Concen- trating my attention on the largest cell, I saw that only one ant worked there; the work advanced, nevertheless. In spite of a projection inside, between the upper part of the walls there still remained a space of about half an inch to cover in. This was the time to support the earth of the roof by little pillars, beams, or the remnants of dried leaves ; but the black ants never have recourse to any of these means, it is not in their nature to employ them. The solitary ant left her work for a moment, and went to a corn- stalk a little distance off. She ran up and down several long and narrow leaves, then choosing the leaf nearest to her, she fetched wet ‘earth, which she fixed at the upper extremity. She continued this operation until, under the weight of earth, the leaf inclinea gently towards the spot it was necessary to cover. ‘This inclination took place, 6 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. unfortunately, near the top of the leaf, which seemed inclined to break off. The ant, noticing this new incon- vemience, gnawed the leaf at the bottom, so that it fell down full length over the unfinished cell. This was not enough ; the position was not right. The worker arranged it properly by putting earth between the base of the plant and that of the leaf, until the leaf fell sufficiently low. The desired end obtained, she used the leaf as a buttress to The Ant bending a corn-leaf support the materials with which she intended to form the arch.” After these different observations, which give us in- contestable proof of the intelligence of the ants, we will ask you, candid reader, to allow us to tell you what we have seen with our own eyes. It was in the latter end: of May, when the cockchafers, after having devoured the leaves of the trees, began to die on the roads, and be- came the prey of beetles and ants. I was walking with one of my friends, a lover of natural history, when we saw some ants actively occupied round a wing of a cock- “ANTS. 7 chafer. What were they doing? You will hear. They were pulling the wing towards a litile hole, which was certainly too small to admit it. How could they manage the matter, then? They were obliged to think. ‘The ants are never embarrassed. It is very probable, however, that they had never before encountered such an obstacle ; that what they were obliged to do now was not a matter of habit. They began to direct one of the extremities of the wing towards the little gallery of their home. Three of them, judging that the thing could not go alone, went The Ants with the Cockchafer’s wing. into the hole, pulling the wing underneath, while the others pushed it from above. But, vain effort ! the wing would not enter. What could they do? . Must they abandon such a great prize? No; the ants are as courageous as they are intelligent. Without losing confidence in their activity and their genius, they renounced their first idia. They placed the wing against one of the partitions of the opening, and went into the nest on the other side of the wing. They no doubt thought what it would be necessary to do. They then resolved, full of activity, to enlarge the gallery. Each one descended in turn, bringing a particle of earth, which she placed at the side of the opening. They worked so 8 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS, well, that in less than half an hour the opening was half as large again. It was nearly three-tenths of an inch in diameter, and the wing was three parts pushed in. No doubt in a little time the wing will be completely in; when, lo! behold, another ant arrived, pulling, triumphantly and alone, another insect. Her sisters saw her, went to- meet her, and dragged the insect towards the opening, where the wing of the cockchafer was still waiting. They slipped along the wing as if it were an inclined plane. Two or three descended, dragging the insect by the head. One minute afterwards it had disappeared. The ants, happy and proud of their.success, returned to the wing of the cock- chafer. They tried for some time to make it enter by force, but it was impossible. Then an ant took it in his mouth, carried it outside the hole, and his sisters began to work again. They ran up and down the particles of earth they had taken away from the partition to make the passage larger. Some of them, in a great hurry, took the wing, and pulled it again towards them. It nearly enters, when something intervenes. The bottom of the opening was, without doubt, not quite large enough. Some did all they could to pull at the top; others push to the right, others to the left, to make it enter more easily. It was, however, necessary to abandon this proceeding, or take away the obstacle. The ants took the wing out again, and removed, with renewed ardour, all that appeared to be in their way. A third time they tried to get the wing in. A new difficulty arose—a storm, which swamped the earth. I do not know if it were by chance or by calculation that the wing, which was upside down, and by this time once more over the opening, served as a shelter to the ants, who continued their work. At last, at nearly six o’clock in the evening, ANTS. 9 after working for three hours and a half with patience, intelligence, and great effort, the hole was large enough, and the wing went to the bottom of the nest. Will any one, after this, say that these insects are accustomed to such work, that they have executed it by instinct, without reasoning, without calculation, without reflection, and without intelligence? We must have less judgment than the ants themselves to think of them in this way. A last example will show us how much the develop- ment of a sense can aid the intelligence. The ants, we know, are guided -by their touch and by their sense of smell, which is situated principally in the antennz. Stop the ants in their course, disperse them to right and left, and they seem to be embarrassed, not knowing what to do. They go back to the spot whence they started, sound- ing the earth with their antennz ; then, when they have examined the spot, they retrace their steps, recover and pursue their road. Is it not by the fineness of their smell or the delicacy of their touch that they find their direction again? An ant one day saw on the road the leg of a gold- beetle. She wished to drag it to the ant-hill, which was a difficult task, as she was alone, all the others being, doubt- less, occupied at other business. The distance was not very great, it is true ; it was only half a yard that she had to go; but the road was rough, difficult, covered with stones and little lumps of earth. To teil you all the troubles this little ant encountered would be impossible. The smallest pro- jection was to her a mountain. Sometimes she went round the stones in her way, at other times she was forced to creep over them. Nevertheless, she arrived almost at the top of one of the little hillocks, when her prey slipped fromm her, and rolled down again; and the poor ant, vexed but _ 10 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. not discouraged, was obliged to go after it. Then, like a hound, she went here and there, seeming to sniff the air “and feel the earth. After a little time she regained her prize. Just think of the patience and courage of these little insects. It was not until after two hours’ work, and over many obstacles, that she arrived at the ant-hill, which was in the grass near the road. ‘here our ant found help; many of her companions ran to her aid, and in a short time, The Ant carrying the Beetle’s leg, In spite of the net-work of weeds, the leg of the gold-beetle arrived entire at the ant-hill. It is also by the contact of the antennz that the ant knows a friend from an enemy. By particular signs, under- stood by all the inhabitants of the same nest, they avoid mistakes. This is known by experiment. We give an example. Take away the ants from a hill, and put them, back -aguin after a certain time into their nest. The first feeling of these emigrants in returning to the cell is that of uneasiness. They wish to escape, but flight is not ANTS. = easy in such a noisy crowd, which goes, comes, and circu- lates in all parts of the ant-hill. The first workers they meet, s¢em to ask them for the -watchword. ‘They then’ touch each other’s antennz, and thus exchange signs. It is well; they understand one another. The exiles belong to that country ; their~agitation ceases; they penetrate with ‘confidence into the native labyrinth, where they are received as sisters who have been believed lost. ‘“ Now let us,” says M. Rendu, “make the reverse experiment. Introduce into the ant-hill some ants of the same species, but of another nest, and other signs than those we have men- tioned will be noted. The same preliminaries are observed, but the question by means of the antennz, instead of assuring the intruders, only increases their fright and their hurry to flee. They do not belong to that nest. The hue and cry commences ; the warning is given; they are furi- ously chased. Woe be to them if they are caught! The furious multitudes grasp the feet, the bodies, and the an- tennze of the intruders, and drag them by force to the interior of the cavern. When by chance some ants of another tribe venture to make an unlawful incursion into the nest of others, their lives are exposed to great danger. An infuriated chase commences ; they are assailed on all sides by combatants, who are reinforced at each instant. If the ants know how to defend themselves courageously against. strangers, in their family they show the most in- telligent brotherly feeling. Who does not know that the ants feed one another? The worker is often too much occupied to fetch her own food. When she is hungry she tells one of her companions, by striking rapidly with her antennze. The purveyor instantly approaches, and pours food into the mouth of the hungry ant. The worker 12 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS, gives thanks, caresses the friend with her antennz, and strokes her head with the front feet. Is not this intelli- gence? or more, is it not family love ?” zi It is well known that the red ant sometimes renounces her subterranean dwelling-place to live in the trunks of oid trees. She there cuts her cells as the black ant would, builds her nest several stories high, which are supported sometimes by little columns, sometimes on thin partitions. The red ant, then, remarks M. Rendu, cultivates two distinct professions. She raises herself, if she pleases, to. the difficult art of sculpture, or descends to the modest trade of a mason ; she does not think she demeans herself by changing the chisel of the artist for the trowel of the - workman, when necessity enforces her te do so. This necessity, in all beings, is the most lively stimulant of the intelligence. Many species of ants in America have, under the influence of that beautiful climate, acquired the art of making honey. Our ants, deprived of this faculty, have been obliged to have recourse to the grubs, which they rear, guard, and store up to supply future wants. But if we prove that the intelligence of animals and of men is specially stimulated by want, we must acknowledge that when the want is satisfied the intelligence often declines. This has been the fate of conquering nations, who fell in consequence of too great refinement and abuse of power. Certain tribes of conquering ants seem to have suffered in the same way. The great red ants, named amazons, with long legs, having a rude and solcier-like gait, attack the black ants, carrying away the young female workers, and treating them as slaves. They are obliged to nurse the larve, and thus aid the society of their captors, because the amazons have no plebeian ants which would form the ANTS, 13 working class, composed of laborious female workers, who nurse all the younger ants for the good of the republic, and do all the work of the little city. The origin of these red ants has much exercised the sagacity of learned men. “There is, then,” says Michelet, “‘a mystery that can scarcely be explained now; but the general history of the species, its migrations and its changes, if it could be written from the commencement, would probably make all clear. Who does not know how animals change, outwardly and inwardly, in their forms and manners, by constant removals? Some species make progress, others go back; and it is thus, says a clever author, that I should explain this slave-hunting habit of the red ants. ‘They would not live two days unless they added others to their number. They then, rather than perish, steal the black ants, who nurse the young of their captors, it is true, but, at the same time, govern them. And this takes place not only in the city, but outside also ; the black ants decide the expeditions, or adjourn them ; directing even the wars, while the red ants, far from arranging the most simple matters in time of peace, do not even seem to understand them. This is a singular triumph of intelligence.” SPIDERS, » THE HABITS AND INTELLIGENCE OF THE MYGALE.—THS SILK-SPINNING SPIDER.—CUNNING OF THE SPIDER IN CATCHING ITS PREY. THE arachnida—named from the Greek a@rachne, a spider—are distinguished particularly from the articulated* animals ; nevertheless, the class is far from being a very simple.one. Great differences exist in the organisation of the various orders of which it is composed. It is also impossible to explain, in general terms, what the in- telligence of the avachnida resembles. But it is known that they possess a nervous system, variable in its develop- ment in the different orders, but attaining, in general, a high degree of centralisation. Some arachnida are de- prived of the sense of sight ; but the greater part possess eyes, which are always simple. It is known that the extremities of the feet in the arachnida are perfectly formed for exercising the sense of touch; but nothing is known respecting the other senses. In proof that the arachnida, and especially the scorpions, are gifted with a nervous system, we may note how the least prick on the nerve ganglions causes immediate pain. The animal seems unable to control itself, and appears to have lost all con- sciousness of its movements. The results of the experi- * A Latin word, signifying formed of joints. SPIDERS. 15 ments made by M. Emile Blanchard is, that feeling in all the avachnida depends exclusively on the cerebral ganglions.* No trace of control over the movements is visible in the scorpions when these ganglions are affected ; just the contrary has been found in the other articulated animals in which the nervous system has not attained the same degree of centralisation. Amongst the arachuida, the aranezdes, or spiders proper, may be mentioned as one of the most natural divisions, and the best characterised of the entire animal kingdom. The species of this zoological group having become very numerous, a necessity has been felt of establishing sub- divisions among the arachnida, and giving more attention to their characters, than had before been the case. This work was commenced by the celebrated entomologist Latreille, but it was soon found necessary to arrange these animals after a peculiar method, to make the specific ‘de- scriptions easy. Walcknaer—a name justly honoured by entomologists, by the learned, and by geographers—found in the arrangements of the spiders’ eyes, and in the nature of their web, the means of establishing secondary divisions, for the most part natural enough. In the classification of Walcknaer, all the species of the genus arencat formed a large group, which he called ara- neides, since adopted in all zoological works. Amongst this group of spiders, we will describe the mygale,f whose industry and intelligence are so remarkable. The mygale not only possesses a well-organised hrain, * A ganglion is a small roundish mass-of nervous matter. ¢ The Latin name for the spider. ¢~ Ancient name for a shrew-mouse ; now given to a genus o large spiders, which often form their nests in the ground like mice. 16 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS, but is also gifted with certain organs of sense really won. derful, which admirably aid its industry and intelligence. The eyes of the mygale are eight in number, forming four pairs. ‘They are all placed on a round eminence. The usefulness of the elevation on which the eyes are situated is evident; for thus the spiders see in every direction. These eyes are not all of the same size, or the same shape. ‘There are two in the middle, two principal ones, larger than the others, and nearly round, on the top of the eye-stalk; the others are placed on the side. In all her arrangements, nature has one end—a marvellous adapta- tion to manners, special habits, and the life proper to each kind of animal. Thus, the silk of the silkworms is em- ployed by them tn one use, for a defence and protection during the time they exist in the chrysalis form. But the silk of the spider, says M. Emile Blanchard, has various uses. This delicate spun substance may be employed to carpet the creature’s dwelling ; to make its nests inacces- sible ; to form the threads for trapping living prey; to serve for cables or for ladders, down which the spiders descend from great heights; to envelop the eggs, and thus defend them from the attacks of animals. In the south of Europe, and also in the south of France, there are found spiders large in body, but very poor in silk. But these use well their small stock ; not being rich enough to construct dwellings of silk, these mygales make tubes in the earth of diameters suited to the size of their bodies, and as the walls would be rough, they are adorned with hangings of the most beautiful silk, so soft that the inhabitant feels no friction when rubbing against such tapestry. This is not all; if the retreat re- mained open at the surface, the mygale might easily be SPIDERS, 17 seized by some hungry animal. This spider, therefore, makes a solid door with the earth thrown out in hollowing the tube. The door is cone-shape1, so as not to be pushed in by a pressure from without. On the outside it is un- even, like the soil; but inside it is carefully covered with a silky web. To a door you must necessarily have a hinge, and a lock or a bolt are often wanted ; the mygale knows how to provide for all these necessities. The hinge 1s formed with such tough silk that it can offer a resistance surpassing belief. A semicircle of little holes. very regularly placed on the side opposite to the hinge, torms a kind of bolt. See what intelligence this spider: shows when any one tries to open the door she drives her claws into the little holes, pulls down with all her might, and thus defends her domicile. When the mygale wishes to go a-hunting, she pushes up the door, and lets it fall down again; on her return, she draws up the door with her claws, and te-enters. This is very like what is now done in many tuwns in the north of France, by the tenants of those lodgings where the door opens on the footpath. Many spiders use silk for making tubes, or lurking- places, where they watch for their prey, or for fortresses to secure themselves from foes. M. Blanchard has called attention to a wonderful use of silk by the water-spiders. These differ little in appear- ance and general structure from their more common rela- tions. They make their homes in streams, but live much in the air. How is this managed? ‘The spider forms a house of silk, which is a true diving-bell. This singular home is about the size of a thimble, is secured to some weed growing on the rivulet’s bank, and there the spider lurks. This silk diving-bell has a white and glistening Cc (> THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS, appearance, like silver. The inhabitant is, therefore, called argyronete, from two words, denoting “a spinner of silver.” | Every one notices, and few can help admiring, the mag- nificent webs of the common garden-spider. The art with which they are formed is wonderful. The ancients, who examined these works, understood all their beauty, and invented the pretty fable of Arachne.* The web was so perfect, that its author seemed capable of rivalling a god- dess. The spider, when about to construct the web, places a thread cross-ways between two branches, then arranges other threads beneath, which look as regular as if traced ona frame. From the horizontal thread the spider spins a vertical thread in a downward direction, and the centre of the work having been thus settled, the radiating lines are formed. Other threads are then spun, and the concentric circles constructed with a beautiful and wonderful regularity. These threads are not all of the same kind. Those which compose thé large transverse cord, the vertical cord, and the rays, are made of a silk which becomes dry the moment it comes out of the spider’s body. On the con- trary, those which form the circles are made of a silk which’ is highly elastic and glutinous—most important properties, because the threads thus completely adhere to the rays. These same spiders produce silk destined to form cocoons, in which to envelope the eggs. This silk is sometimes quite different from that of which the web is composed. While the web threads are white, this cocoon silk is of a fine golden colour. ‘The three kinds of silk are secreted by three kinds of glands, each secreting a particular silk. ‘The cobwebs * Arachne, proud of her spinning, challenged Minerva to a trial of skill, and being defeated, killed herself. The pitying goddess turned the body of poor Arachne into a spider. SPIDERS. 19 of our garden-spiders give an incomplete idea of some of the threads spun by other species of the same genus. In the hottest countries of the world—in Madagascar, in the Isle of Bourbon, in the Mauritius, in India, and in the greater portion of Polynesia—there are spiders which construct webs of gigantic dimensions. ‘They throw their filmy lines across streams, fastening them to the trees on each side. Travellers say that where these spiders are nume- Web Lines spanning a Stream. rous, their webs, thus thrown across rivers, produce a most striking effect in the landscape. - Explorers of Madagascar, or the Isle of Bourbon, have observed a species which con- structs its webs somewhat like those of the garden-spider ; but there was one important peculiarity: there was in the centre a thick silvery cord or thread, twisted so as to present a series of zigzag folds. The fact having been stated, nobody could doubt the peculiar use of this thick thread. A few years later a young naturalist, Dr. Vinson, attached to the Madagascar mission, made some interesting observations €: 2 20 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. on these webs. He often passed whole hours in observing the spider, whose mode of construction was so singular, asking himself what could be the use of this large cord, a real cable compared to the other threads? Each day he repaired to some of these webs to study them. One day some flies came and threw themselves on the threads; quickly the spider flung itself on its prey, throwing out some of the light threads, and enveloping the flies. The cable did not move. The observer broke it three or four different times ; the spider, each time, made a new cable. One day a large grasshopper précipitated himself into the middle of this net. The light threads would not have been strong enough to keep such a victim. Mark, now, a proof of in- telligence. As soon as possible the spider threw himself on his great cable, and rolled round the grasshopper with the greatest rapidity. That no doubt might remain, our observer returned on the following days to the same place, being determined to make experiments. He took care to furnish himself with large insects; and, throwing them into the spider’s web, the same manceuvre was constantly repeated. The use of the thread was now discovered: to hold strong insects. , Many have thought, for a long time, of utilising the web of the spider; but it is difficult to obtain a sufficient quantity. The oruinary thread is ninety times thinner than that of the silkworm, and, therefore, it is necessary to have 1,800 spiders’ threads, according to Reaumur, to make a service- able tissue. This circumstance prevents the industrial use, to any considerable value, of the silk of spiders. However, M. Lebon, president of the parliament of Montpellier, in 1709, made some stockings and gloves, of .a pretty grey colour, for Louis XIV., from this silk. M. d’Orbigny made, SPIDERS. 21 from. the threads of a species of American spider, a pair of drawers, which lasted a long time. ‘Travellers tell us that, in equatorial countries, spiders’ webs are seen which have so much strength that they catch the humming-birds. It is even said that men break the webs with difficulty. But let us return to the intelligence of these crea- tures. It is in the means they employ for seizing their prey that spiders display all their resources. The wall- spider lies down in a crack, and there, after watching a fly, springs upon it with one bound, rarely missing, so quick and sure is the jump. Another species watches on a 22 THE iNTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. — tree for caterpillars near the opening of the nest, and as soon as one comes near, the spider seizes it, sucks it quickly. and then throws the body away. But that which denotes spider intelligence most, is the making of their webs. Certain spiders set up a circular network, with loose meshes for small flies ; others form stronger tissues, with more solid woofs, to hold larger flies. In the first network, the threads of the woof are stronger, and twisted, radiating from the centre to the circumference; other threads, more slender, are placed circularly. By this geometrical disposition, the spider, keeping to the centre, will feel, better tlaa anywhere else, the least movement at the circumference. This, ac- cording to Virey, is what Schmid, a learned German mathematician, proved, who published a work in which he shows that spiders, like bees, display the most transcendant. geometry. But what is most wonderful is the lodging in which the spider keeps himself on the look-out. It is a real circular tunnel, with a double outlet, and a double use. The entrance is horizontal, the outlet is perpendicular. It is from the former that the hunter throws himself on his prey; the other performs the office of a secret cell. The spider takes the greatest care never to leave at the entrance the corpses of which he has sucked the blood; this charnel-house would frighten its living food. Each time a fly has been immolated, it is dragged into a canal, and thrown into the lower opening. When we look at the floor of the den, we are surprised at the number of the spider’s victims. Sometimes this hidden opening serves for a way of escape when danger is near; but this is a rare case. Its special use, its only destination, says M. Pouchet, who claims the honour of this discovery, is to receive the wreck of the spider’s repast. BEES. ESPECIALLY THE MASON-BEE. THE custom of living in society is, in animals, a sign of intelligence. We have already observed this in the ants. The bees will furnish us with other proofs. These little creatures form, like man, regular and permanent societies, construct cities, establish divers orders in the state, emigrate, and even found colonies. We are surprised when we see little animals execute ~ such beautiful works, because we forget that the little or the large are only relative to man, who makes himself the centre of all the worlds, and the measure of all beings. Nature surprises us, says Swam- merdam, by the greatness of the works she has produced, displaying, so to speak, all her power in them. But she is not less incomprehensible when, in the smallest insect, she con- centrates her powers in one point. We never more admire animals called perfect (those man thinks most like to him- self) than when we dissect their smallest parts. They show that in a living mass all is organised, all is living ; and in this sense the small is the great. Minute beauty is every- where; it penetrates the whole of nature, and becomes an object worthy of philosophy. After the works of Swammerdam and Moraldi, Reaumur The Honey-Bee. 24 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS, apologises for writing on bees. With much more reason ought we to abstain from writing, after the magnificent discoveries of Schirach, Huber, John Hunter, and Dzier- zon. We shall say nothing of the architectural wonders of these animals, so often described, nor of the cares of the workers for the little larvae. What we shall inquire for is the intellectual manifestations in these insects. The bees come nearest the ants by their intelligence. Theu government of a hive has long excited admiration. The results obtained by the bees, with instruments of extreme simplicity, astonish by their perfection. Is this skill at every instant to be called only instinct—this singular distribution of work, this admirable policy, which submits all to Law, and provides for a crowd of eventualities which could not have been foreseen ? | Bees show feelings of uneasiness, hatred, and anger, direct their actions according to circumstances, know how to use stratagems against enemies stronger than themselves, and adjust their means of defence to the attack. Amongst the honey producers some families only build new nests when they cannot find any old ones ; and if one is found, it is put in order. The Xy/ocopes* do not hollow out holes in wood till they have explored the old cavities near. They often live in the dwellings of former generations of insects _of their kind, thus dispensing with all useless labour. We have other proofs of intelligence still more conclusive. We know that the honey-combs do not touch each other, a space of nearly half an inch separating them ; these are the streets of the city, where two bees can pass at a time. Besides these large roads of communication other * Wood-borers, BEES. 25 openings, nearly round, like little doors always open, pass through the honey-combs, to avoid the necessity of a long circuit in getting from one comb to another, or to different parts of the hive. These passages, like the combs, are not all made of the same shape, the bees accommodating them- selves to places and circumstances. We find hives in which the combs all run parallel with each other, which is generally the case; in others, the combs, which occupy a part of the hive from top to bottom, are parallel to each other, but those which fill the rest of the habitation are placed obliquely to the first ones. The bees, in beginning a second comb, often attach themselves to the ojyposite end to which the first comb was fixed. This second comb ought to be parallel with the first, and there should only be a certain distance between them. The insects by chance may have mistaken their measures, and the second comb is too far away from the first. The bees, in order to fil part of the vacancy, proceed with their bad arrangement, working obliquely, and giving the comb an inclination, which brings it nearer to the other. Is this mere blind mechanism? It must indeed be greater stupidity than that of the brutes not to see in these actions calculation, comparison, reflec- tion, and intelligence. Take another mark of intelligence, not less striking. In a hive a large number of cells are reserved only for pro- visions. The bees make these deeper than the others, they being sometimes eight-tenths of an inch in depth, with a diameter which never exceeds one-fifth of an inch. When the honey harvest is so abundant that the vessels are not sufficient to hold it, the workers abandon their usual mode. They lengthen the old cells, or give to the new larger dimensions than the ordinary ones. Their resources 26. THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. in the art of building are always equal to their wants. No one can reasonably say that these insects do what they have always done without reflection, without calculation, and without intelligence. Will men still deny that it is intelligence which guides the working bee in deciding whether the cells which con- tain the larve are well provided with food? The worker visits first a certain number of cells at a time, not stopping till it has finished this general review. After having seen and examined all, the bee retraces its steps, enters one of the cells which does not seem sufficiently provided, and empties there the food which the larvee require. Many more intelligent acts could be mentioned. It is known that the mother bee starts with the first swarm thrown out by a hive in spring. While the new colony is busying itself preparing lodgings, building, plundering, working for the increase of the population, and caring for the race of its chief; the bees who stayed in the old hive form a strong guard round the royal cells, where there are some females in the larva state, some nymphs, and even some perfect though imprisoned insects. Of these not one will be kept captive beyond the time when she ought to enjoy her liberty; neither will any of them be liberated before the time. They will all go out of the cells succes- sively, at some days’ interval, according to their age. The law on this point is inflexible. The more efforts they make to liberate themselves, the more their guardians will watch them, rebuilding their cover as soon as they destroy it, and shutting up the opening each time they have taken their meal from the end of their nurse’s trunk. Bees have, therefore, the power which arises from intelligence and wiil. : BEES. 27 Remember that at the moment of the swarming, the royal cells contain a number of females in the state of larve ornyinphs. A great many only wait their time of deliver: ance to seize, in their turn, upon the government. One queen alone must reign; the first female who comes out of her prison destroys the others in their royal cells. The workers have recognised her quality as mother, and hinder her not; she therefore attacks all her rivals, one after another, and kills them with her dart. Huber was once a witness of this execution, in which the mother bee showed great intelligence. The queen, he says, fell upon the first royal cell which she saw, with eagerness. By dint of labour she succeeded in opening the end. ‘“ We saw her with her jaws tear the silk of the cocoon in which the royal larva was enclosed,” but her efforts did not succeed as she wished, for she. abandoned this end of the large cell, and went to work at the opposite extremity, where she succeeded in making a large opening. When she had enlarged it enough, she turned round and tried to get her body in. She made different movements in all directions, till at last she succeeded in giving her rival a sting. Then she re- moved from this cell, and the workers, who up to this time had been simple spectators of her work, enlarged the gap which she had made, and drew out the corpse of a queer, hardly free from her nymph’s covering. During this time, the queen fell upon a large cell, and again made an opening, but she did not try to get in the extremity of her body here. This second cell did not contain, like the first, a fully de. veloped queen, it only enclosed a nymph queen. M. Maurice Girard, who has written an _ excellent book on the metamorphoses of insects, mentions several examples of the strong memory of bees. They recognise 28 TUE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. their hive, he says, in the midst of a crowd of others ; i a field is covered with flowers which they like, they return the year after to the same place, even though the culture is quite changed. A wandering swarm had fixed itself on the beams of a roof, and had there begun to build their golden combs, \ - ’ Death’s Head Moth attacking the Hives. when the householder put them into a hive. The place first chosen had pleased the bees, for during eight years all the ~ swarms from this hive sent some explorers to the spot. — The memory of the locality was not only preserved in the little nation, but transmitted to several generations of de- scendants. Take one more instance of intelligence in bees. In BEES. 29 1806, Huber, the elder, stated that the death’s-head moths abounded, and that, greedy of honey, they entered the hives and broke all the combs with their great bodies, many times larger than that of a bee. The bees were frightened, and did not know what to do; they had never before found such an enemy. After much’ reflection, they thought of employing the following device, which succeeded :—A thick bulwark of wax was raised at the entrance of all the hives in the neighbourhood, these small doors only allowing one bee to pass at a time. The greedy moths, deprived of offensive weapons, flew flutteringly against the obstacle, but could not enter. After two or three years the enemy returned in greater force, and immediately the bees shut the openings of the hives as before. These feeble insects have solved a problem which may well excite the envy of man. We do not know by what physiclogical reasoning the animals were able to understand the importance of nourishment in the development of phy- sical force, and even in the making beings fruitful which were not so before. This transformation, which our greatest doctors and our deepest observers, have not been able to accomplish, have been practised since the most ancient times by these insects. When the bees have lost their queen, and wish to obtain another, they choose some workers in the state of worms, which they nourish with a thicker, sweeter, and more stimulating food, called ‘‘royal jelly.” The bees supply such a large quantity of this, that at the time when no “ pap” is found in the cells of the males, or workers, the royal cells contain a great quantity of the jelly ; so greatly does the bringing up of the mother bees differ from the ordinary process. Bees understand very well that for a larger amount of nourishment a greater quantity of air is required, 30 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS, otherwise digestion would be bad. It is not what one eats, but what one digests, which nourishes. They know this, and take care to enlarge the cells of the larva in proportion to the nourishment given. The bees do more; they ornament the cells with a new style of architecture, and enlarge them as the larva grows. When it is on the point of changing into a nymph, and the nourish- ment is suspended, the workers reduce the cell by shutting it up with a lid; but this contraction of the dwelling is made gradually, little by little, till the metamorphosis is — complete. It is to this special jelly, as well as to the size of the royal cells, that the larvee of the mother bees owe their peculiarities. When the bee has lost a wife, it can replace her at will, if the hive contain some larve at least three days old; later, the transformation could not take place. But at this time a working larva could easily become, by means of air and food, a queen. Such is the influence of the royal jelly, that if some particles of this food fall by chance into the little cells which surround the royal ones, the working larvee receive a portion of fecundity ; but they never lay any eggs, except those of drones. The chalicodome (one who builds with gravel), or mason- bee, shows in the construction of its nest many proofs of intelligence. The works of this insect, says M. Emile Blanchard, commence in the month of May—that is to say, a short time after its birth. A female explores a wall, and chooses a place. Having fixed on this point, she goes to look for materials, and if you follow her patiently, you will see her stop on some ground covered with gravel. The insect seizes small pieces of gravel with her jaws, pours out a little saliva, joins with it some grains of earth, and thus glues earth and BEES. 31 gravel t=gether, to form the mortar that she will employ in building. The little mass being soon hardened, she flies away with her burden, and returning to the wall, applies the first layer of cement. The same operation is repeated several times ; the mass of mortar is soon sufficient for the work, and- in the space of a day the first cell is constructed. But this cell remains open to a certain extent, the insect entering it several times to smooth the walls. At this time another care begins to occupy her attention—that of sup- plying this habitation with provisions. The mason-bee gathers honey and pollen from the flowers ; they are mixed, and the result is the sweet paste which constitutes the nourishment of all the larve of the aphides. The pro- visions being complete, and filling nearly the whole of the ell, an egg is laid. Our bee blocks up this dwelling, and directly begins to build another quite close to it, and then a third, and so on, till there are eight, ten, twelve, or even more. These cells are placed irregularly, and are not of the same number in all the nests. ‘The cells are built, provisioned, and hermetically sealed; but the work is not yet finished. The mason insect forms a general covering,. a sort of roof, for which she collects larger pieces of gravel than those used in the composition of the mortar destined for the fabrication of the cells. The exterior wall of the nest has an enormous thickness, and a prodigious hardness, which is not the least interesting fact in the construction. The larvz will live in abundance, and be as much as pos- sible sheltered from danger. At the time of their birth they imprison themselves in a case of varnished tissue. Their transformation into nymphs is effected, and the adult insects are’ formed. How will the new masons get out of their dwellings? Will they succeed in piercing this cement, 32 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS, | harder than stone, and which the strokes of a hammer do not always break? It was once thought so, and so first hinted by Reaumur ; but this was an error. When the lid of the nest was constructed, a cut was made in the lower edge, near a cell whose occupant is destined to go out first. It is a kind of door, only covered by some powdered earth. The instinct of the architect puzzles our reason ; and does this architect only obey a blind instinct? A worker so attentive to choose both place and materials, appearing at each instant to examine the state of its work—does this bee act like a wound-up machine, performing its uniform movement ? Judge by several facts in the history of our mason. Possess- ing exclusively instinctive faculties, she ought always to accomplish the same work—begin and finish it in the same manner. ‘This does not take place. Cells more or less dilapidated—containing in the interior abandoned shells, or skins of nymphs, having the partitions of the cells more or less broken—remain attached to the walls. ‘The mason- bees, in their explorations, recognise these old nests, and do not fail to take possession of them. ‘They thus understand how they can avoid much fatigue. This feeling cannot be attributed to instinct. This is not all, however. Whena mason-bee thus takes possession of what we should call the ruins of a house, if we were speaking of a habitation built by men’s hands, she is obliged to work in a very different way from that of the insect which builds a new nest. She must proceed to clean the interior, taking away the ruins of the shells, the skins of the larvae and nymphs, with all the dirt. She must then repair the breaches and stop up the open- ings; in a word, know the situation and attend to the details of the whole work. Can it be thought that no reasoning is required in such a labour and plan. But there BEES, 33 is something more striking. It sometimes happens that an idle mason-bee thinks of stealing from others; she pene: trates the nest which is being built by another individual, and finding the place suits her, strives to maintain herself there by force. Reaumur has well traced this peculiarity of the wall-bee. “These observations,” he says, “teach us that the spirit of injustice is not so peculiar to man as it is thought; it is found in the smallest animals. Amongst insects, as amongst men, the goods of others will be usurped, and their work appropriated. While a fly had gone to load itself with materials to add what was wanting to her cell, M. du Hamel saw, more than once, another fly enter with- out ceremony into the cell, turn itself in all directions, visit it from all sides, work to refit it as if it belonged to her. The proof that she did it with a bad intention was that when the true mistress arrived laden with materials, the place was not yielded to her by the other ; she was obliged to have recourse to violent means in order to preserve the possession of her goods; she was forced to join in combat with the usurper, who was ready to defend the robbery.” With a little patience anybody can easily test the facts which we have just mentioned about the mason-bees, and procure for himself a very instructive amusement. Nothing is mot2 ‘vorthy the philosopher’s meditations than. these manifestations of instinct and intelligence in small animals, and of actions on their part which among men would be judged, the one praiseworthy, the others contemptible. Individuals of the same kind among the industrious bees do not all seem to have the same propensities. Some are courageous, working honestly ; some are idle, and prefer not to woik, appropriating by trick or force the property D 34 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. of others Will there long remain people ignorant enough to see in these animals only machines, and to understand nothing of the grandeur of creation? The reflections made by M. Emile Blanchard, one of the most distinguished naturalists of our time, are a noble witness in favoui of the inielligence of insects. HUMBLE-BEES. CO-OCPERATION.—INDUSTRY AND INTELLIGENCE DEVELOPED IN DIRECT PROPORTION TQ THE NUMBER OF CITIZENS. THERE they are, those great creatures—those fat lubbers, those snobs full-of themselves, that are more noisy than industrious. Do you see them, with their eyes jutting out from their heads, their little wings giving them such airs of importance ? It is certainly not by licking the walls that they have grown to such a good condition. Happy mortals! nature has gifted them with good humour: not ambitious and not wicked, they digest wonderfully. They work and feed while singing in the midst of the flowers in which they rejoice, giving themselves up to pleasures. ‘The drones are real co-operatives ; they realise easy work. ‘Their societies are much less numerous than those of the bees. Their sociability, less developed, shows a less advanced energy, less industry, and less intelligence. The architecture of their nests is less remarkable than that of the bees and wasps. Nevertheless, they are capable of a certain intelli- gence. The day is come for them to choose their nests; do not think that the choice is made lightly or without reflec- tion. From the first day of spring, we are told by M. Rendu, the females are seen flying here and there, in the meadows and on the hillocks—visiting all the holes of the . field-mouse, the shrew-mouse, and retreats of the large- headed mouse. They enter each in tum, inspecting all, and, D2 30 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS, finally deciding in favour of those which seem to answer their purpose best, make their abode there. The female of the humble-bees takes special care to lay her eggs in cells of certain exact dimensions, carefully tested by repeated insertions of her body into the prepared receptacle. The larvze of the same cell being shut m, they live together, dine at the same table, under the same tent, feed together on the food prepared at the bottom of their cradle, and there grow. This cell does not exceed the size of a~ pea when the female lays her eggs there; but as the eggs enlarge, the interior becomes too narrow, and cannot suffice for the progressive growth of the young insects. The cell splits lengthways, and it is then that the mother displays all her intelligence. She takes pieces of wax and applies them to the sides of the opening. She goes, comes, and returns again and again with stores of wax, and repeats her work of calking, till there is no trace of a rupture left. After three or four operations of a like nature, the cell is completely shut in, being enlarged by the part added. Each time the cell bursts, by the interior pressure of the larvee, the prison is again, in hke manner, enlarged to the required dimensions, being at last about half an inch im length. M. Emile Blanchard gives another proof of the intelli- gence of the humble-bees, when they wish to draw up the honey from flowers having a very deep corolla. They cannot often, on account of their size, reach down to the bottom with their trunks. This difficulty does not discon- cert them: with their mandibles they cut the corolla in the lower part, and pass their trunk through the opening. The growth of the population among these bees has this HUMBLE-BEES, _ 37 peculiarity—that the industry and intelligence of the city are developed according to the number of the inhabitants, and decline where the societies are reduced to a few in- dividuals. It is thus that the smallest communities do not cover their moss roof with wax, and do not lengthen their honey-pots, confining themselves to mere necessities. It is not the same in the more numerous societies. Frequent. contact with others excites the intelligence ; a sort of emu- lation carries more will into the work, for the common protection and care of the little ones. Among the intelligent hymenopterous insects, we may mention the Chlorion, a solitary and digging bee. Often, says M. Emile Blanchard, have I witnessed the attack on a cockroach by a chlorion, and the intelligence displayed by the latter in bringing to its nest and getting into its narrow hole so large a body. When attacked, the cock- roach knows its enemy, and is paralysed by fear. Then the chlorion flings himself on the prey, seizes it with the mandibles between the head and corslet, and pierces the abdomen with its sting. The bee then retires awhile, till the victim’s struggles are over. The chlorion then drags the body to the nest, often with great labour, for the burden is really heavy. He now busies himself about getting the prey into the cell; but the opening is far too narrow to admit the feet and wings of the cockroach. The chlorion understands the situation; the difficulty does not surprise him. He cuts the feet and wings off, and then tries to push the body into the hole; but it is still too large. The bee feels that he must do something better ; it goes backwards into the hole, seizes the victim with his mandibles, and tugs with all his strength. The skin of the cockroach having a certain flexibility, the body at last dis- 38 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. appears, by passing into the hole, into which we should never have thought it could have been forced. Do such acts on the part of the chlorion only proceed from instinct? Who can think so, when observing these manceuvres, so intelligent and varying according to circumstances? FLEAS AND BUGS. MOTHERLY LOVE AND INTELLIGENCE OF FLEAS.—SOLDIER FLEAS.—RIDING FLEAS. WE will finish this study on the intelligence of insects by stating some curious facts observed in animals which, until now, have been looked upon only as torments to man. The fleas not only possess the power of making sur- prizing jumps, but display an almost incredible muscular force. Lémery saw a flea of middle size chained to a little silver cannon, which the insect drew after it. The cannon was above an inch long, and as thick as a small pipe, weighing twenty-four times more than the flea. The gun was supported on two wheels, and exactly like a cannon used in war. It was sometimes fired off, but the brave flea was not at all frightened by the artillery roar. His mis- tress, adds Lémery, kept the insect in a little velvet box, which she carried in her pocket. She fed the creature easily, by putting it every day, for a little time, on her arm, scarcely feeling the bite! Winter killed this martial flea. Mouffett says that an Englishman made a gold chain as long as his finger, with a padlock and a key; a flea being attached to this chain, drew it daily with ease. The whole mass weighed less than a grain. Hoock relates that another English workman made an ivory carriage, with six horses ; a coachman sat on the box, with a dog between his legs ; there, too, rode a postillion, 49 THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. four gentlemen were in the carriage, and two footmen behind. ‘The whole equipage was drawn by one flea. What a shaft horse! Are these the only works which the fieas can accomplish? No; these little beings are so intelligent, that they can be trained to all sorts of exercises. The Baron Walckenaer, who died in 1452, relates marvels done by clever fleas, which were snown at Paris, Trained Fleas at work and at drill. in the .Exchange.. “I saw them,” says he, “ iia entomologist eyes, through several magnifying glasses. Four fleas were doing the exercise, standing on their hind feet, and armed with a pike, which was a little spar of very fine wood. Two fleas were attached to a gold travelling carriage of four wheels, with a postillion.