CHAPTER IX. A TABLE, EXHIBITING A METHOD OF DETERMINING THE GENERA OF BRITISH BEES WITH FACILITY.

The following table is constructed exclusively to facilitate, by the most obvious characters, the recognition of the several genera into which the family is divided; it will, however, be incumbent upon the learner to use some diligence in order to acquire an accurate perception of their distinguishing characteristics.

By the present extremely artificial plan the systematic sequence is disturbed; but the numbers, which will be found appended to the names in the table, will show their orderly succession.

The natural generic character which precedes the account of each genus in the next division of the work will give the reason, by comparison, of the order in which “system” arranges them, and which being based mainly upon the differences of the trophi,—although, conjunctively with other characters, the trophi must necessarily be studied for its explanation,—their description in the description of the part of the imago is consequently referred to.

Did we know exactly the uses of the component parts of the trophi severally, we should be better able to determine the legitimacy of applying them to the purpose of indicating the natural generic character, but being compelled, by reason of our ignorance of their several special functions, to avail ourselves of their form, relative proportions, and number only, uncertainty of having caught the clue of nature’s scheme must of necessity attend this distribution.

But as what we do know of their uses in this family clearly indicates them to be an essential instrument indispensable to the economy of the insect, and which gives these organs an almost paramount importance, their comparative construction in the several genera would yield clear notions of the true order of succession, were we acquainted with the relative significancy of the various portions of the entire organ. Thus we see it numerically most complete in what we are pleased to suppose the least genuine bees—the AndrenidÆ.

In my series of the genera proposed in the preceding section, with the Nudiped true bee Melecta commences a deficiency of either some of the joints of the maxillary palpi, or of the paraglossÆ;—throughout the artisan bees this abridgment is conspicuous both in number and proportion; and it culminates in what we consider the facile princeps, that most wonderfully organized of all insects—the genus Apis, which in its neuters has neither paraglossÆ nor maxillary palpi, the latter being equally deficient in the male or drone, and in the queen; and in both the male and the queen the paraglossÆ are but rudimentary.

Nature appears too mysterious in her operations to permit us to solve these remarkable anomalies, for no combination of the genera founded exclusively upon them supplies us with Ariadne’s thread. Every such combination breaks up more harmonious groups, and we then retrace our steps, satisfied that we are on the wrong road.

In some other orders of insects the cibarial apparatus has but little bearing upon the insect’s mode of life, for in many it is not used either for nutrition or in their economy, or so slightly so as to admit of its being considered of very inferior importance, although systematists—to enhance the value of their own labours, by the frequent difficulty, from excessive minuteness, of its examination—have usually made it a prominent feature in their arrangements.

That science has not widely strayed away from the true succession and natural affinities by the main selection of the trophi for the arrangement of the bees, seems partially confirmed by the gradations of form or habit that this method of treatment in general exhibits. A higher method doubtless exists, which would give form, number, and proportion very inferior rank in ordering the arrangement, but at present the clue to it has not been discovered.

These questions are indeed beyond the scope of a work of this character, which is merely a ladder to the fruits of learning, and the bearing of them is only hinted at to indicate that there is much exercise for the intelligence in the study of even this small family. The mind that would stop in the study of nature at the knowledge of genera and species, can be very speedily satisfied, and one bright spring day’s successful collecting will furnish the materials for much patient and industrious occupation.

In nature we find all things apparently blended in the grandest confusion; but they all have mutual and reciprocal bearings which give a definite purpose to the seeming disorder, and which make each separate unit the centre of all. But we, from our inability to grasp in its fulness the order of this disorder, are obliged to seize fragments and, separating them into what we conceive to be their coherent elements, use them as exponents of the entirety. They could not so exist in nature, but would speedily die out, and it is only by the way in which we find them intermingled, that they can be maintained. Thus, as all conduce to the conservation of each, each conduces to the conservation of all.

A large collection of natural history, composed of every available item that can be gathered from every kingdom of nature’s vast domain, may perhaps be compared (magnis componere parva) with the constituent parts of a most elaborately-constructed and complicated clock, which its skilful artificer has designed and made to record and chime the divisions of time, and to register the days, weeks, months, and seasons, and which a virtuoso having taken to pieces, has sorted into its details of wheels and springs, levers and balances, chains, bells, and hands, which told the time when its music would peal; and arranging like to like, thinks he will thus understand more clearly the complexity of the varied movements. But, sadly disappointed, he finds he cannot comprehend the combination of the intricate machinery, although he singly admires the minute perfection of each delicate and ingenious piece lying before him which composed the structure, but which has now lost all expression, his curiosity having deprived the organism of its vitality, which is its most wonderful element.

And this is our process, for if we stop here we have but an assortment of vapid machinery, no click of whose wheels gives note of the vital hilarity of their relative and combined effects. The final cause of creation escapes us thus frittering it into details, which if we merely abide by, we but loiter at the foot of Pisgah, instead of ascending its summits to survey thence the sunny and varied landscape, the glorious sea, and, arching over all, the blue cope of heaven. The manifold relations of animate and inanimate nature, which, although they must be studied in detail, are to be appreciated in their entirety, should stimulate the efforts of the naturalist to conquer all impending difficulties, and he should not permit himself to be satisfied with this preliminary knowledge.

Although the above be the inevitable effect of distributing nature into its component parts, it is the indispensable precursor to the study, for the scientific treatment is the only mode whereby, through special study, we can arrive at the comprehension of the great generality. We thus strive to trace the mode in which each emanates from each; and even when this is not absolutely tangible we may discover affinities or analogies by structural resemblances which implicitly lead to physiological inferences, and thence on, higher and higher, all lending us aid to make the larger survey, wherein we behold the concatenation of the many links which harmonize the spiritual with the material. But the study must be thorough, and its details are not to be spread out before us merely as a beautiful picture-book. They all have their place in the great ordinance of nature, which it is for us to find. At first we can only spell the syllables, which the study of species puts together for us, but by degrees we shall trace the words, and read the sentences: a study more abstruse but far more pregnant than that of the Egyptian hieroglyphics, and whose attainment is rewarded with a supremer knowledge than is accorded by these, which exhibit merely the legends of dead despots; but here we have a display of the vitality of the wisdom inscribed in gleaming characters upon the leaves of the wonderful book of life, God’s glorious works, made manifest to man.

Thus we should aim at the knowledge of final causes, the apparent wisdom of whose adaptations points clearly to the source of all—the first great Cause. A naturalist with such large views has a wide field before him, which with every step expands, and which alone is worthy of engrossing the earnest attention of his intelligence, and is in itself sufficient to absorb the profoundest contemplation. His mind becomes thus filled with great objects, which charm it with their beauty and feed it with the complexity of their intricate combinations, whose earnest development is an affluent stream of perpetual instructive occupation. With Newton we may say: “We everywhere behold simplicity in the means, but an inexhaustible variety in the effects,” resulting all from the luminous wisdom of prearranged design.

The humiliation which attends the sentiment of the utter inability and incompetency of the mind to grasp the intricacy and vastness of nature, is consoled by the redundant proofs the contemplation yields of a supreme and benevolent Providence presiding over all things, and thence we derive the comfortable and supporting assurance, in the fickle waywardness and vicissitudes of a harassed and anxious life, that a benevolent eye is ever watchfully awake; for the naturalist everywhere beholds that omnipotently wise and loving Providence in active operation throughout nature.

No study like natural history, pursued in a humble and docile spirit, so harmoniously elicits the religion of the soul, or than which so fitly prepares it to enter, by the pathway of the works of God, the august temple of His revealed Word.

But to return: what we call science is the mere accidence of nature, which in fact aggravates our infirmity by permitting our intelligence to attempt to grasp, through the various details, their intricate combinations. But as truth sooner arises out of error if methodically pursued, and its results recorded, than out of confusion and guesswork, theories based upon observation, however inaccurate at first, ultimately lead up to the certain acquisition of the truth itself.

---

Tongue as long or longer than the maxillÆ, inflected beneath, and covered by the maxillÆ in repose.

---

It will be desirable to add a few observations to the preceding table to facilitate its use, and because, as many of the characters upon which it is framed are exclusively those of the female, it is necessary to point out the differences of their males, that the sexes of the genera may be duly recognized and associated.

It may be first noticed generally that the antennÆ, in the males, are not usually geniculated at the scape, which is nearly always the case in the opposite sex, and they are also, with rare exceptions, always longer than those of their females. In Colletes, Prosopis, Dasypoda, Panurgus, Ceratina, Nomada, Melecta, Epeolus, Stelis, and Anthidium, the habit or colouring of the males is so similar to that of the females, that their genus may be thus at once determined, and, in fact, the brief characters in the table will embrace them.

The male Eucera can be distinguished from those of Anthophora and Saropoda, both by the differences in the number of the submarginal cells of the wing, and by the extreme length of its antennÆ, whence the genus derives its name. In Andrena and Cilissa, the males have usually lanceolate bodies. In the latter genus there will be no difficulty in associating the legitimate partners; but in Andrena, although general habit will usually bring the male within the boundary of the genus, nothing but experience, or specific description will associate the sexes correctly, there being in many cases an extraordinary discrepancy between them. These two genera themselves also can scarcely be distinguished apart, excepting by means of their trophi; Cilissa, however, in general habit greatly resembles the genus Colletes, especially the Cilissa tricincta, which might, upon a superficial glance, be almost mistaken for one of them.

The male Halicti have long cylindrical bodies and long antennÆ, but from the male Chelostoma, which has a very similarly shaped body also and long antennÆ, they may be distinguished by the differences in the number of the submarginal cells; and from those of Sphecodes, by the antennÆ, which, in the latter are not relatively so long, and are usually moniliform. The thorax of these is also less pubescent, and the tinge of the red colour of their abdomen is different from that of the red male Halicti.

The males of Coelioxys can be readily distinguished from those of Megachile, by the spinose apex of their abdomen. In Megachile, general habit will bring the males within the precincts of their genus, as well as their largely dilated anterior tarsi in some of the species.

A difficulty similar to what is found in the distinction between Andrena and Cilissa, arises in the separation of Chelostoma from Heriades, and which we shall again meet with in drawing the line between Anthophora and Saropoda. The difference can only be detected by examining the trophi, but a pin and a little patience will elucidate the separation. The males in all but two species of Anthophora may be readily associated with their partners; but in these two the females are entirely black, and so hirsute as to have led Ray (wanting the knowledge of the use of the trophi and posterior shanks) to unite the one he knew with his Bombylii; their males are fulvous, and the latter have a remarkable elongation of the intermediate tarsi, from one of the joints of which also a tuft of hair or a loose lateral fringe projects, giving them thus a wider expansion, and the use of which is prehensile, the same as that for which the anterior tarsi in some of the Megachiles and in our single Anthidium receive their dilatation. This structure has also the effect of adding very considerably to the elegance of their appearance when they are in fine condition.

The male Apathi can only be distinguished from the male Bombi by familiarity with specific characteristics, or by the examination of the trophi. But the former is the more certain mode of separation, as the trophi in Bombus vary in some species, but not sufficiently to authorize generic subdivison. General appearance will mark where they approximately belong. The length of their antennÆ sufficiently distinguishes them as males, and they may be taken with impunity in the fingers from flowers for examination, being, like all the male aculeate Hymenoptera, unarmed with stings. The female Apathi may be superficially distinguished from the female Bombi, which they most resemble, exclusively of the generic characters of the convex and subpubescent external surface of the posterior tibiÆ and the trophi, also by their abdomen being considerably less hirsute than that of the genuine Bombi, in which it is entirely covered with dense shaggy hair, whereas in Apathus there is a broad disk upon its surface nearly glabrous. If I remember rightly, it is the male Apathi only, and not the male Bombi, which emit on capture a pleasantly fragrant odour of attar of roses.

The table will suffice for distinguishing the male Apis from all other male ApidÆ, and which has a further peculiarity exhibited by no other of our native bees, in the conjunction upon the vertex of the compound eyes, in front of which, upon the frons, the simple eyes or ocelli are placed in a very slightly-curved line.

These indications are enough to enable the beginner to work his way smoothly, and a little practice will soon render these observations superfluous.

The economy of nature is so perfect that wherever we can trace a difference, we may assume that a reason and a purpose exist for the variation. Thus we do not know why some bees have three submarginal cells to their wings, and others only two. Nor do we know what governs their variety of shape. The deficiency we might think implied inferiority; but this cannot be, for those with most frequently the smaller number, viz. the artisan bees, are, in the majority of cases, the most highly endowed, and have the most special habits.

In the relative numbers of the maxillary and labial palpi, there are remarkable differences, the reason for which we cannot trace, for, as before observed, we do not know even their function, which would perhaps guide us to other views. Their normal numbers are six maxillary, and four labial palpi. The latter take remarkable relative development and peculiarity of insertion and form, especially in the ApidÆ; but throughout the whole series of our bees, they are never reduced to fewer than their normal number, whereas the maxillary palpi never have similarly large development of structure, and are variously modified in number and consistency from the typical or normal condition.

Thus in Eucera and Melecta there are but five joints; in Osmia and Saropoda, four; in Chelostoma and Coelioxys, three; in Anthidium and Megachile, etc., two; and in Epeolus and Apis but one.

In this collocation no incidental peculiarity beyond diversity is apparent, for in the first instance a parasite and a bee not parasitical are associated; and in the last, a parasite is associated with the bee which has the most elaborate economy, and the most largely developed instinct of all known insects. Nor are, in any case, those parasites associated by these means with their own sitos, or insect upon which they are parasitical.

Thus encouragement attends the beginner at the very outset of his study; and the prospect of a wide field for discoveries, in many directions, lies open to him, to excite his curiosity and to stimulate his industry to the pursuit of higher aims than the mere accumulation of species.