HABITS OF THE FERMITES, OR WHITE ANTS OF AFRICA AND Or a great many curious parts of the creation, the Fermites, or white ants, seem most worthy of notice. The size and figure of their buildings have attracted the attention of many travellers, and yet the world is not furnished with any satisfactory description of them; though, when we come to consider the wonderful order of these insects, and of their subterraneous cities, they will appear foremost on the list of the numerous works of nature. These insects are known by various names. They belong to the class of Fermes. In Africa they are called by the English Bugga Bugs. In the West Indies, Wood Lice, Wood Ants, or White Ants; also, by the French in the same parts, Poux de Bois, or Fourmis Blanches. In the Brazils, Coupée, or Cutters, from their cutting things in pieces. The Fermites are represented by Linnæus and other naturalists as the greatest plague of both the Indies; and throughout the Tropics are deemed the most destructive of insects, from the vast damages they cause, in consequence of their eating and perforating wooden buildings, utensils, and furniture, which are totally destroyed by them, if not timely prevented; for nothing less than metal or stone can escape their destructive jaws: there is no effective remedy for their extinction in houses but boiling water poured into their lodgments, or white arsenic strewed about their abodes. These insects are generally named Ants, from the similarity in their manner of living in large communities, who erect very extraordinary nests in houses, but most generally on the surface of the earth; whence their excursions are made through subterraneous passages, or covered galleries, which they form whenever necessity obliges, or plunder induces them to march above ground, and at a great distance from their habitations carry on a business of depredation, scarcely credible but to those who have witnessed them. In their rambles for food they will overcome the greatest obstacles of fire and water, by sacrificing thousands of their numbers in making a bridge of their dead bodies for the following myriads to pass over. They have been seen to cross a stream by this contrivance:---The stronger ants holding fast to one bank by their mouths, and others fastening to them in continuation, until a line is thus formed and made fast by the last ant, by its forceps, as in the commencement to the other: and when the entire surviving army had passed over this swinging bridge (as it may truly be termed), the first lets go his hold, and thus his end loosened, the whole line swing to the desired shore, where it had been secured by the last adventuring bridgemaker. These, though they live in communities, and are, like the ants, omnivorous; though, like them, at a certain period, they are furnished with four wings, and emigrate to colonize at the same season; they are by no means the same insects; nor does their form correspond with that of ants in any one state of their existence. They are stingless, but, like most of their species, are changed several times. They resemble also ants in their provident labour, but surpass them, as well as the bees, wasps, beavers, &c. in the arts of building, as well as the arts of government, as much as the Europeans excel the least cul tivated savages. Of every species of the Fermites there are three orders; first, the working, which we may call labourers; next, the fighting ones, or soldiers; and last of all, the winged ones, or perfect insects, which are male and female, and capable of propagation. These might be called the nobility or gentry, for they neither labour nor fight, being incapable of either, and almost of self-defence. From this class, their kings and queens are chosen, and nature has so ordered it, that they emigrate within a few weeks after they are elevated to this state, and either establish new kingdoms, or perish within a few days: The FERMES BELLICOSUS, or WARRIOR ANT, being the largest species, is best known in the Tropic regions. It erects immense buildings of well-tempered, tenacious clay, or earth, which are contrived with such exquisite art, that we are at a loss to say whether they are most to be admired on that account, or for their enormous magnitude and solidity. They not only build larger and more curious nests, but are also more numerous, and do infinitely more mischief to mankind, than the other species.* When these insects attack such things as we would wish to preserve, we must consider them as most pernicious; but when they are employed in destroying decayed substances of every description, animal and vegetable, which only encumber the earth and taint the air, they may be justly supposed very useful. In this respect they resemble very much the common flies, which are regarded in general as useless beings; but this is certainly for want of consideration, and a thorough conviction, That the omniscient Creator has made nothing vain, although their intended uses are far beyond our limited comprehension. The NESTS of the FERMITES are so numerous on the continent of Africa, and the island of Bananas on its coast, that it is scarcely possible to stand upon any open place, where one of these mounds is not to be seen within fifty paces, and frequently two or three are to be seen almost close to each other. These mounds or hills are of a conical form, and from six to twelve feet high above the surface of the ground, and continue bare, until the dead barren clay of which they are composed, becomes fertilized by time, and the genial power of the elements in these fertile climates; and in the second or third year, the hillock, if not overshadowed by trees, becomes almost covered with grass and other plants, and in the dry season, when the herbage is dried up by the rays of the sun, it is not unlike a good-sized hay-cock. [To be continued. * The other species of this insect are, 2dly, Fermes Mordax; 3dly, Fermes Atrox; 4thly, Fermes Destructor; 5thly, Fermes Arborum. POETIC SCENES.-No. III. SCENE III.-VIRGINIUS'S HOUSE. Enter VIRGINIUS, and VIRGINIA his Daughter. Virginius. Appius took thee by the hand, what then, Virginia ? Virginia. He talk'd of love, and ask'd More questions in a breath, than in a month 'I could have answer'd. Virginius. But thou didst tell him That thou wert betrothed to Icilius. Said I was fair, and talk'd again of love. Virginius. And thou wert pleased with his pretty flattery? Virginia. And do you think he flatter'd your Virginia ? Virginius. The dreg of poison's sweet. (Aside.) The truth, my child, is sometimes so. A man Should always think that which he speaks, although Virginia. Yet he may sometimes be excused although Virginus. These were a woman's words. (Aside.) My little oracle, how old art thou? Virgina. When two days older I shall be fifteen. Your memory, father, uses me unkindly. Virginius. There's but one day in all Rome's calendar On that day I would wed thee to Icilius. Then I was young, and as the seasons fled, I was impatient for that day's return. Upon that fatal day-thy mother died. (Affected.) I know it is the fashion of the world, To set apart a day on which to mourn. But there's no method can control the soul: It cannot weep to day and smile to-morrow. Virginia. My wedding-day must be a day of woe! That in thy joy, thou never may'st forget, The scene and bustle of this life how soon- Here comes Lucetta. I'll leave you to her counsel. Enter LUCETTA. Lucetta. Hey-day Virginia! how very grave Cheer up my girl. More suitors! more lovers! It so curtail'd his courage, that he turn'd And in pure kindness, speaks more pretty things Your face might be as black as e'er deceit, And still unnoted by Icilius. Virginia. The sympathetic tie call'd love, takes root, As deep as is the root, as hidden is the cause. Lucet. I do not like your hidden love; not I. An honest love will always shew itself. Virginia, We love but in our hearts; eyes are agents Lucet. And could you love a man Virginia. I love Icilius Not for his beauty; 'tis no part of man. But for the generous love he bears for me. Lucet. Bating that love you would no longer love? Once pledged in love, can no more rule its fate Lucet. But if you love all for their love of you, [Exeunt. A TRULY WISE MAN. He who has discovered that, as the joys of life are unsubstantial, so are its woes supportable; who is contented with the absence of corporeal and intellectual pain, and the presence of some enjoyment; who loves his own species well enough to be placable to folly and vice; and feels so much for the genus he belongs to, as to bring on fellowanimals no unnecessary mischief; who is reconciled to death, life's severe succession; and superior, on principles of knowledge, to posthumous apprehensions; he bids fairly to sketch the character of a wise man. ON PAINTING, POETRY, AND MUSIC. Carmina certè Sunt pictura loquens, mutum est pictura poëmo. Poems are speaking pictures; a picture is a mute poem. It is very pleasing to observe the great similitude between the effects of painting, poetry, and music. Each has a powerful influence on the passions; communicates new graces, if not often a very being, to beauty itself; and is advantageously, as well as properly employed, in the decoration of truth. All the different modifications of these sister arts may be reduced to three heads, the sublime, the pathetic, and the simple. The mediums they employ in their address to the senses, are colours, words, and sounds; and the sensations they occasion are in proportion to the force with which they act. For with whatever degree of force either of them affects the senses, the passions are operated upon, and the judgment generally influenced in the same proportion, just as the force of action and reaction is equal in the mechanic laws. The effects, for instance, proceeding from the sight of a picture, is always equal to a certain arrangement of lines, and disposition of light and shade, striking the retina with the complex idea of any given figure. If it be sublime, as Haydon's picture of Lazarus, the idea excited is noble, full of majesty and awful grandeur, and raises in the spectator an admiration equal to his perception. For as every spectator has not an equal perception, the effect will not be the same in all. As a geometrician would demonstrate the difference; A will be affected twelve times more than B, because B's perception is twelve times less than A's; and while B is only affected with the simple idea of one, A (for the reason above given) is affected with the complex idea of twelve; and while B views the picture only as a plain surface, composed of certain lines, light and shade, expressive of a group of figures; A considers it as an assemblage of lines, light and shade, expressive of various attitudes, different passions, and complicated distress. This seems to be a confirmation of the truth of the late Mr. Hutchinson's doctrine," that there is no such thing as absolute beauty;" for if beauty were absolutely inherent in any object, it would equally affect every spectator, without any regard to their different perceptions. Every one acknowledges the brightness of the Sun, because it is essentially bright; but every one does not allow that this lady, or that lady, is beautiful. For beauty is not absolutely inherent in her person, but in a degree only proportionable to the perception of each spectator. As painting consists of lines, light and shade; poetry is constituted by words, lines, and periods. These may be considered as the dress of sentiment; and, as they are capable, as well as lines, light and shade, of an infinite variety of forms, must naturally occasion an infinite variety of ideas. Thus, as the paintings of Raphael are soft and pathetic, and those of Rubens strong and bold, different spectators are differently affected by them, according to their different perceptions. Read to one person the distresses of Childe Harold; full of every interesting circumstance, and struck with every passionate relation, he will sympathise in all his misfortunes, and discover the strongest emo |