468 INSTINCT OF INSECTS. 



conceals itself, patiently waiting until some unhappy 

 victim is precipitated down the sides of its cavern? Yet 

 this is done by the ant-lion and another insect. Or, to 

 omit the endless instances furnished by wasps, ants, the 

 Termites, &c., what animals can be adduced which, like 

 the hive-bee associating in societies, build regular cities 

 composed of cells formed with geometrical precision, 

 divided into dwellings adapted in capacity to different 

 orders of the society, and storehouses for containing a 

 supply of provision ? Even the erections of the beaver, 

 and the pensile dwelling of the tailor-bird, must be 

 referred to a less elaborate instinct than that which 

 guides the procedures of these little insects the com- 

 plexness and yet perfection of whose operations, when 

 contrasted with the insignificance of the architect, have 

 at all times caused the reflecting observer to be lost in 

 astonishment. 



It is, however, in the deviations of the instincts of in- 

 sects and their accommodation to circumstances, that the 

 exquisiteness of these faculties is most decidedly mani- 

 fested. The instincts of the larger animals seem capa- 

 ble of but slight modification. They are either exer- 

 cised in their full extent or not at all. A bird, when its 

 nest is pulled out of a bush, though it should be laid 

 uninjured close by, never attempts to replace it in its 

 situation ; it contents itself with building another. But 

 insects in similar contingencies often exhibit the most 

 ingenious resources, their instincts surprisingly accom- 

 modating themselves to the new circumstances in which 

 they are placed, in a manner more wonderful and in- 

 comprehensible than the existence of the faculties them- 

 selves. Take a honey-comb, for instance. If every 



