IX.—BEE-THINGS IN GENERAL.

AS this work does not profess to be an entomological essay but a practical bee-master's directory, I have omitted those erudite questions about which apiarians wrangle, and unfortunately lose their temper and employ their stings.

But there are some interesting bits of instruction scattered over bee-books which it may interest the reader to lay before him. If they contribute nothing to the amount of the honey harvest, they may increase the pleasure of the bee-master in the long winter evenings.

Huber relates:—

"He put under a bell-glass about a dozen humble-bees, without any store of wax, along with a comb of about ten silken cocoons, so unequal in height that it was impossible the mass should stand firmly. Its unsteadiness disquieted the humble-bees extremely. Their affection for their young led them to mount upon the cocoons for the sake of imparting warmth to the inclosed little ones, but in attempting this the comb tottered so violently that the scheme was almost impracticable. To remedy this inconvenience, and to make the comb steady, they had recourse to a most ingenious expedient. Two or three bees got upon the comb, stretched themselves over its edge, and with their heads downwards fixed their fore-feet on the table upon which it stood, whilst with their hind-feet they kept it from falling. In this constrained and painful posture, fresh bees relieving their comrades when weary, did these affectionate little insects support the comb for nearly three days. At the end of this period they had prepared a sufficiency of wax, with which they built pillars that kept it in a firm position; but, by some accident afterwards, these gotdisplaced, when they had again recourse to their former manœuvre for supplying their place; and this operation they perseveringly continued, until M. Huber, pitying their hard task, relieved them by fixing the object of their attention firmly on the table."Lardner quotes from Kirby the following curious illustration of the habits of the clothier-bee:—"Kirby mentions the example of nests of this kind found by himself and others, constructed in the inside of the lock of a garden-gate."A proceeding has been ascertained on the part of these insects in such cases, which it is extremely difficult to ascribe to mere instinct, independent of some intelligence. Wherever the nest may be constructed, the due preservation of the young requires that until they attain the perfect state, their temperature should be maintained at a certain point So long as the material surrounding their nest is a very imperfect conductor of heat, as earth or the pith of wood is, the heat developed by the insect, being confined, is sufficient to maintain its temperature at the requisite point. But if, perchance, the mother-bee select for her nest any such locality as that of the lock of the gate, the metal, being a good conductor of heat, would speedily dissipate the animal heat developed by the insectand thus reduce its temperature to a point incompatible with the continuance of its existence. How then does the tender mother, foreseeing this, and consequently informed by some power of the physical quality peculiar to the metal surrounding the nest, provide against it? How, we may ask, would a scientific human architect prevent such an eventuality? He would seek for a suitable material which is a non-conductor of heat, and would surround the nest with it. In fact, the very thing has occurred in a like case in relation to steam-engine boilers. The economy of fuel there rendered it quite as necessary to confine the heat developed in the furnace, as it is to confine that which is developed in the natural economy of the pupa of the bee. The expedient, therefore, resorted to is to invest the boiler in a thick coating of a sort of felt, made for the purpose, which is almost a non-conductor of heat. A casing of sawdust is also used in Cornwall for a like purpose. By these expedients the escape of heat from the external surface of the boiler is prevented."The bee keeps its pupa warm by an expedient so exactly similar, that we must suppose that she has been guided either by her own knowledge, or by a power that commands all knowledge, in her operations. She seeks certain woolly-leaved plants, such as thestachys lamataor theagrostemma coronaria, and with her mandibles scrapes off the wool. She rolls this into little balls, and carrying it to the nest, sticks it on the external surface by means of a plaster, composed of honey and pollen, with which she previously coats it. Thus invested, the cells become impervious to heat, and consequently all the heat developed by the little animal is confined within them."The name ofupholsterershas been given by Kirby to certain species of bees, who, having excavated their nest in the earth, hang its walls with a splendid coating of flowers and leaves. One of the most interesting of these varieties is themegachile papareris, which has been described by Reaumur. It chooses invariably for the hangings of its apartments the most brilliant scarlet, selecting as its material the petals of the wild poppy, which the insect dexterously cuts into the proper form."Her first process is to excavate in some pathway a burrow cylindrical at the entrance, but enlarged as it descends, the depth being about three inches. After having polished the walls, she next flies to a neighbouring field, where she cuts out the oval parts of the poppy blossoms, and seizing them between her hind legs returns with them to her cell. Sometimes it happens that the flower from which she cuts these, being but half-blown, has a wrinkled petal. In that case she spreads out thefolds, and smoothers away the wrinkles, and if she finds that the pieces are too large to fit the vacant spaces on the walls of her little room, she soon reduces them to suitable dimensions, by cutting off all the superfluous parts with her mandibles. In hanging the walls with this brilliant tapestry she begins at the bottom, and gradually ascends to the roof. She carpets in the same manner the surface of the ground round the margin of the orifice. The floor is rendered warm sometimes by three or four layers of carpeting, but never has less than two."Our little upholsterer having thus completed the hangings of her apartment, fills it with a mixture of pollen and honey to the height of about half an inch. She then lays an egg in it, and wraps over the poppy lining, so that even the roof may be furnished with this material. Having accomplished this, she closes the mouth of the nest.[A]

Lardner quotes from Kirby the following curious illustration of the habits of the clothier-bee:—

"Kirby mentions the example of nests of this kind found by himself and others, constructed in the inside of the lock of a garden-gate.

"A proceeding has been ascertained on the part of these insects in such cases, which it is extremely difficult to ascribe to mere instinct, independent of some intelligence. Wherever the nest may be constructed, the due preservation of the young requires that until they attain the perfect state, their temperature should be maintained at a certain point So long as the material surrounding their nest is a very imperfect conductor of heat, as earth or the pith of wood is, the heat developed by the insect, being confined, is sufficient to maintain its temperature at the requisite point. But if, perchance, the mother-bee select for her nest any such locality as that of the lock of the gate, the metal, being a good conductor of heat, would speedily dissipate the animal heat developed by the insectand thus reduce its temperature to a point incompatible with the continuance of its existence. How then does the tender mother, foreseeing this, and consequently informed by some power of the physical quality peculiar to the metal surrounding the nest, provide against it? How, we may ask, would a scientific human architect prevent such an eventuality? He would seek for a suitable material which is a non-conductor of heat, and would surround the nest with it. In fact, the very thing has occurred in a like case in relation to steam-engine boilers. The economy of fuel there rendered it quite as necessary to confine the heat developed in the furnace, as it is to confine that which is developed in the natural economy of the pupa of the bee. The expedient, therefore, resorted to is to invest the boiler in a thick coating of a sort of felt, made for the purpose, which is almost a non-conductor of heat. A casing of sawdust is also used in Cornwall for a like purpose. By these expedients the escape of heat from the external surface of the boiler is prevented.

"The bee keeps its pupa warm by an expedient so exactly similar, that we must suppose that she has been guided either by her own knowledge, or by a power that commands all knowledge, in her operations. She seeks certain woolly-leaved plants, such as thestachys lamataor theagrostemma coronaria, and with her mandibles scrapes off the wool. She rolls this into little balls, and carrying it to the nest, sticks it on the external surface by means of a plaster, composed of honey and pollen, with which she previously coats it. Thus invested, the cells become impervious to heat, and consequently all the heat developed by the little animal is confined within them.

"The name ofupholsterershas been given by Kirby to certain species of bees, who, having excavated their nest in the earth, hang its walls with a splendid coating of flowers and leaves. One of the most interesting of these varieties is themegachile papareris, which has been described by Reaumur. It chooses invariably for the hangings of its apartments the most brilliant scarlet, selecting as its material the petals of the wild poppy, which the insect dexterously cuts into the proper form.

"Her first process is to excavate in some pathway a burrow cylindrical at the entrance, but enlarged as it descends, the depth being about three inches. After having polished the walls, she next flies to a neighbouring field, where she cuts out the oval parts of the poppy blossoms, and seizing them between her hind legs returns with them to her cell. Sometimes it happens that the flower from which she cuts these, being but half-blown, has a wrinkled petal. In that case she spreads out thefolds, and smoothers away the wrinkles, and if she finds that the pieces are too large to fit the vacant spaces on the walls of her little room, she soon reduces them to suitable dimensions, by cutting off all the superfluous parts with her mandibles. In hanging the walls with this brilliant tapestry she begins at the bottom, and gradually ascends to the roof. She carpets in the same manner the surface of the ground round the margin of the orifice. The floor is rendered warm sometimes by three or four layers of carpeting, but never has less than two.

"Our little upholsterer having thus completed the hangings of her apartment, fills it with a mixture of pollen and honey to the height of about half an inch. She then lays an egg in it, and wraps over the poppy lining, so that even the roof may be furnished with this material. Having accomplished this, she closes the mouth of the nest.[A]

[A]Reaumur, vi. 139 to 145.

"It is not every insect of this class which manifests the same showy taste in the colours of their furniture. The species called leaf-cutters hang their walls in the same way, not with the blossoms but the leaves of trees, and more particularly those of the rose-tree. They differ also from the upholsterer described above, in theexternal structure of their nests, which are formed in much longer cylindrical holes, and consist of a series of thimble-shaped cells, composed of leaves most curiously convoluted. We are indebted likewise to Reaumur for a description of the labours of these."The mother first excavates a cylindrical hole in a horizontal direction eight or ten inches long, either in the ground or in the trunk of a rotten tree, or any other decaying wood. She fills this hole with six or seven thimble-shaped cells, composed of cut leaves, the convex end of each fitting into the open end of the other. Her first process is to form the external coating, which is composed of three or four pieces of larger dimensions than the rest, and of an oval form. The second coating consists of portions of equal size, narrow at one end, but gradually widening towards the other, where the width equals half the length. One side of these pieces is the serrated edge of the leaf from which it was taken, which, as the pieces lap over each other, is kept on the outside, the edge which was cut being within."The little animal next forms a third coating of similar material, the middle of which, as the most skilful workman would do in a like case, she places over the margins of those that form the first side, thus covering and strengthening the junctions by the expedient whichmechanics call a break-joint. Continuing the same process, she gives a fourth and sometimes a fifth coating to her nest, taking care at the closed end, or narrow extremity of the cell, to bend the leaves so as to form a convex termination."After thus completing each cell, she proceeds to fill it to within the twentieth of an inch of the orifice with a rose-coloured sweetmeat made of the pollen collected from thistle-blossoms mixed with honey. Upon this she lays her egg, and then closes the orifice with three pieces of leaf, one placed upon the other, concentrical and also so exactly circular in form, that no compasses could describe that geometrical figure with more precision. In their magnitude also they correspond with the walls of the cell with such a degree of precision, that they are retained in their situation merely by the nicety of their adaptation."The covering of the cell thus adapted to it being concave, corresponds exactly with the convex end of the cell which is to succeed it; and in this manner the little insect prosecutes her maternal labours until she has constructed all the cells, six or seven in number, necessary to fill the cylindrical hole."The process which one of these bees employs in cutting the pieces of leaf that compose her nest, is worthyof attention. Nothing can be more expeditious, and she is not longer about it than one would be in cutting similar pieces with a pair of scissors. After hovering for some moments over a rose-bush, as it were to reconnoitre the ground, the bee alights upon the leaf which she has selected, usually taking her station upon its edge, so that its margin shall pass between her legs. She then cuts with her mandibles, without intermission, in such a direction as to detach from the leaf a triangular piece. When this hangs by the last fibre, lest its weight should carry her to the ground, she spreads her little wings for flight, and the very moment the connection of the part thus cut off with the leaf is broken, she carries it off in triumph to her nest, the detached portion remaining bent between her legs in a direction perpendicular to her body. Thus, without rule or compass, do these little creatures measure out the material of their work into ovals, or circles, or other pieces of suitable shapes, accurately accommodating the dimensions of the several pieces of these figures to each other. What other architect could carry impressed upon the tablet of his memory such details of the edifice which he has to erect, and, destitute of square or plumb-line, cut out his materials in their exact dimensions without making a single mistake or requiring a single subsequent correction?"But of all the varieties of this insect, that of which the architectural and mechanical skill is transcendently the most admirable is the bee-hive. The most profound philosopher, says Kirby, equally with the most incurious of mortals, is filled with astonishment at the view of the interior of a bee-hive. He beholds there a miniature city. He sees regular streets, disposed in parallel directions, and consisting of houses constructed upon the most exact geometrical principles, and of the most symmetrical forms. These buildings are appropriated to various purposes. Some are warehouses in which provisions are stored in enormous quantities; some are the dwellings of the citizens; and a few of the most spacious and magnificent are royal palaces. He finds that the material of which this city is built is one which man with all his skill and science cannot fabricate, and that the edifices which it is employed to form are such that the most consummate engineer could not reproduce, much less originate; and yet this wondrous production of art and skill is the result of the labour of a society of insects so minute, that hundreds of thousands of them do not contain as much ponderable matter as would enter into the composition of the body of a man.Quel abime aux yeux du sage qu'une ruche d'abeilles! Quelle sagesse profonde se cache dans cet abime! Quel philosophe oserale sonder!Nor has the problem thus solved by the bee yet been satisfactorily expounded by philosophers. Its mysteries have not yet been fathomed. In all ages naturalists and mathematicians have been engrossed by it, from Aristomachus of Soli and Philiscus the Thracian, already mentioned, to Swammerdam, Reaumur, Hunter, and Huber of modern times. Nevertheless, the honey-comb is still a miracle which overwhelms our faculties."

"The mother first excavates a cylindrical hole in a horizontal direction eight or ten inches long, either in the ground or in the trunk of a rotten tree, or any other decaying wood. She fills this hole with six or seven thimble-shaped cells, composed of cut leaves, the convex end of each fitting into the open end of the other. Her first process is to form the external coating, which is composed of three or four pieces of larger dimensions than the rest, and of an oval form. The second coating consists of portions of equal size, narrow at one end, but gradually widening towards the other, where the width equals half the length. One side of these pieces is the serrated edge of the leaf from which it was taken, which, as the pieces lap over each other, is kept on the outside, the edge which was cut being within.

"The little animal next forms a third coating of similar material, the middle of which, as the most skilful workman would do in a like case, she places over the margins of those that form the first side, thus covering and strengthening the junctions by the expedient whichmechanics call a break-joint. Continuing the same process, she gives a fourth and sometimes a fifth coating to her nest, taking care at the closed end, or narrow extremity of the cell, to bend the leaves so as to form a convex termination.

"After thus completing each cell, she proceeds to fill it to within the twentieth of an inch of the orifice with a rose-coloured sweetmeat made of the pollen collected from thistle-blossoms mixed with honey. Upon this she lays her egg, and then closes the orifice with three pieces of leaf, one placed upon the other, concentrical and also so exactly circular in form, that no compasses could describe that geometrical figure with more precision. In their magnitude also they correspond with the walls of the cell with such a degree of precision, that they are retained in their situation merely by the nicety of their adaptation.

"The covering of the cell thus adapted to it being concave, corresponds exactly with the convex end of the cell which is to succeed it; and in this manner the little insect prosecutes her maternal labours until she has constructed all the cells, six or seven in number, necessary to fill the cylindrical hole.

"The process which one of these bees employs in cutting the pieces of leaf that compose her nest, is worthyof attention. Nothing can be more expeditious, and she is not longer about it than one would be in cutting similar pieces with a pair of scissors. After hovering for some moments over a rose-bush, as it were to reconnoitre the ground, the bee alights upon the leaf which she has selected, usually taking her station upon its edge, so that its margin shall pass between her legs. She then cuts with her mandibles, without intermission, in such a direction as to detach from the leaf a triangular piece. When this hangs by the last fibre, lest its weight should carry her to the ground, she spreads her little wings for flight, and the very moment the connection of the part thus cut off with the leaf is broken, she carries it off in triumph to her nest, the detached portion remaining bent between her legs in a direction perpendicular to her body. Thus, without rule or compass, do these little creatures measure out the material of their work into ovals, or circles, or other pieces of suitable shapes, accurately accommodating the dimensions of the several pieces of these figures to each other. What other architect could carry impressed upon the tablet of his memory such details of the edifice which he has to erect, and, destitute of square or plumb-line, cut out his materials in their exact dimensions without making a single mistake or requiring a single subsequent correction?

"But of all the varieties of this insect, that of which the architectural and mechanical skill is transcendently the most admirable is the bee-hive. The most profound philosopher, says Kirby, equally with the most incurious of mortals, is filled with astonishment at the view of the interior of a bee-hive. He beholds there a miniature city. He sees regular streets, disposed in parallel directions, and consisting of houses constructed upon the most exact geometrical principles, and of the most symmetrical forms. These buildings are appropriated to various purposes. Some are warehouses in which provisions are stored in enormous quantities; some are the dwellings of the citizens; and a few of the most spacious and magnificent are royal palaces. He finds that the material of which this city is built is one which man with all his skill and science cannot fabricate, and that the edifices which it is employed to form are such that the most consummate engineer could not reproduce, much less originate; and yet this wondrous production of art and skill is the result of the labour of a society of insects so minute, that hundreds of thousands of them do not contain as much ponderable matter as would enter into the composition of the body of a man.Quel abime aux yeux du sage qu'une ruche d'abeilles! Quelle sagesse profonde se cache dans cet abime! Quel philosophe oserale sonder!Nor has the problem thus solved by the bee yet been satisfactorily expounded by philosophers. Its mysteries have not yet been fathomed. In all ages naturalists and mathematicians have been engrossed by it, from Aristomachus of Soli and Philiscus the Thracian, already mentioned, to Swammerdam, Reaumur, Hunter, and Huber of modern times. Nevertheless, the honey-comb is still a miracle which overwhelms our faculties."

Kirby writes:—

"Besides the saving of wax effected by the form of the cells, the bees adopt another economical plan suited to the same end. They compose the bottoms and sides of wax of very great tenuity, not thicker than a sheet of writing-paper; but as walls of this thickness at the entrance would be perpetually injured by the ingress and egress of the workers, they prudently make the margin at the opening of each cell three or four times thicker than the walls. Dr. Barclay discovered, that though of such excessive tenuity, the sides and bottom of each cell are actually double, or in other words, that each cell is distinct, separate, and in some measure an independent structure, agglutinated only to the neighbouring cells; and that when the agglutinating substance is destroyed, each cell may be entirely separated from the rest. This,however, has been denied by Mr. Waterhouse, and seems inconsistent with the account given by Huber, hereafter detailed; but Mr. G. Newport asserts, that even the virgin-cells are lined with a delicate membrane."

Dr. Bevan relates of Mr. Knight, an acute and accurate apiarian:—

"On one occasion he observed from twenty to thirty bees paying daily visits to some decayed trees, about a mile distant from his garden; the bees appeared to be busily employed in examining the hollow parts, and particularly the dead knots around them, as if apprehensive of the knots admitting moisture. In about fourteen days these seeming surveyors were followed by a large swarm from his apiary, which was watched the whole way, till it alighted in one of these cavities. It was observed to journey nearly in a direct line from the apiary to the tree. On several similar occasions the bees selected that cavity which Mr. Knight thought best adapted to their use.""Insects give proofs without number of the possession of the faculty of memory, without which it would be impossible to turn to account the results of experience. Thus, for example, each bee, on returning from its excursions, never fails to recognise its own hive, even thoughthat hive should be surrounded by various others in all respects similar to it."This recognition of home is so much the more marked by traces of intelligence rather than by those of instinct, inasmuch as it depends not on any character merely connected with the hive itself, whether external or internal, but from its relation to surrounding objects; just as we are guided to our own dwellings by the recollection of the particular features of the locality and neighbourhood. Nor is this faculty in the bee inferred from mere analogies; it has been established by direct experiment and observation. A hive being removed from a locality to which its inhabitants have become familiar, they are observed, upon the next day, before leaving for their usual labours, to fly around the hive in every direction, as if to observe the surrounding objects, and obtain a general acquaintance with their new neighbourhood."The queen in like manner adopts the same precaution before she rises into the air, attended by her numerous admirers, for the purpose of fecundation."—Lardner."The attention," says Lord Brougham,[B]"which has been paid at various times to the structure and habits of the bee, is one of the most remarkable circumstances inthe history of science. The ancients studied it with unusual minuteness, although being, generally speaking, indifferent observers of fact, they made but little progress in discovering the singular economy of this insect Of the observations of Aristomachus, who spent sixty years, it is said, in studying the subject, we know nothing; nor of those which were made by Philissus, who passed his life in the woods, for the purpose of examining this insect's habits; but Pliny informs us that both of them wrote works upon it. Aristotle's three chapters on bees and wasps[C]contain little more than the ordinary observations, mixed up with an unusual portion of vulgar and even gross errors. How much he attended to the subject is, however, manifest from the extent of the first of these chapters, which is of great length. Some mathematical writers, particularly Pappus, studied the form of the cells, and established one or two of the fundamental propositions respecting the economy of labour and wax resulting from the plan of the structure. The application of modern naturalists to the inquiry is to be dated from the beginning of the eighteenth century, when Maraldi examined it with his accustomed care; and Reaumur afterwards, as we have seen, carried his investigations much farther. The interestof the subject seemed to increase with the progress made in their inquiries; and about the year 1765 a society was formed at Little Bautzen in Upper Lusatia, whose sole object was the study of bees. It was formed under the patronage of the Elector of Saxony. The celebrated Schirach was one of its original members; and soon after its establishment he made his famous discovery of the power which the bees have to supply the loss of their queen, by forming a large cell out of three common ones, and feeding the grub of a worker upon royal jelly; a discovery so startling to naturalists, that Bonnet, in 1769, earnestly urged the society not to lower its credit by countenancing such a wild error, which he regarded as repugnant to all we know of the habits of insects; admitting, however, that he should not be so incredulous of any observations tending to prove the propagation of the race of the queen-bee without any co-operation of a male,[D]a notion since shown by Huber to be wholly chimerical. In 1771 a second institution, with the same limited object, was founded at Lauter, under the Elector Palatine's patronage, and of this Riem, scarcely less known in this branch of science than Schirach, was a member.

"Insects give proofs without number of the possession of the faculty of memory, without which it would be impossible to turn to account the results of experience. Thus, for example, each bee, on returning from its excursions, never fails to recognise its own hive, even thoughthat hive should be surrounded by various others in all respects similar to it.

"This recognition of home is so much the more marked by traces of intelligence rather than by those of instinct, inasmuch as it depends not on any character merely connected with the hive itself, whether external or internal, but from its relation to surrounding objects; just as we are guided to our own dwellings by the recollection of the particular features of the locality and neighbourhood. Nor is this faculty in the bee inferred from mere analogies; it has been established by direct experiment and observation. A hive being removed from a locality to which its inhabitants have become familiar, they are observed, upon the next day, before leaving for their usual labours, to fly around the hive in every direction, as if to observe the surrounding objects, and obtain a general acquaintance with their new neighbourhood.

"The queen in like manner adopts the same precaution before she rises into the air, attended by her numerous admirers, for the purpose of fecundation."—Lardner.

"The attention," says Lord Brougham,[B]"which has been paid at various times to the structure and habits of the bee, is one of the most remarkable circumstances inthe history of science. The ancients studied it with unusual minuteness, although being, generally speaking, indifferent observers of fact, they made but little progress in discovering the singular economy of this insect Of the observations of Aristomachus, who spent sixty years, it is said, in studying the subject, we know nothing; nor of those which were made by Philissus, who passed his life in the woods, for the purpose of examining this insect's habits; but Pliny informs us that both of them wrote works upon it. Aristotle's three chapters on bees and wasps[C]contain little more than the ordinary observations, mixed up with an unusual portion of vulgar and even gross errors. How much he attended to the subject is, however, manifest from the extent of the first of these chapters, which is of great length. Some mathematical writers, particularly Pappus, studied the form of the cells, and established one or two of the fundamental propositions respecting the economy of labour and wax resulting from the plan of the structure. The application of modern naturalists to the inquiry is to be dated from the beginning of the eighteenth century, when Maraldi examined it with his accustomed care; and Reaumur afterwards, as we have seen, carried his investigations much farther. The interestof the subject seemed to increase with the progress made in their inquiries; and about the year 1765 a society was formed at Little Bautzen in Upper Lusatia, whose sole object was the study of bees. It was formed under the patronage of the Elector of Saxony. The celebrated Schirach was one of its original members; and soon after its establishment he made his famous discovery of the power which the bees have to supply the loss of their queen, by forming a large cell out of three common ones, and feeding the grub of a worker upon royal jelly; a discovery so startling to naturalists, that Bonnet, in 1769, earnestly urged the society not to lower its credit by countenancing such a wild error, which he regarded as repugnant to all we know of the habits of insects; admitting, however, that he should not be so incredulous of any observations tending to prove the propagation of the race of the queen-bee without any co-operation of a male,[D]a notion since shown by Huber to be wholly chimerical. In 1771 a second institution, with the same limited object, was founded at Lauter, under the Elector Palatine's patronage, and of this Riem, scarcely less known in this branch of science than Schirach, was a member.

[B]Vol. i. pp. 333-36.[C]Hist. An., lib. ix., cap. 40, 41, 42.[D]Œuvres x., 101, 104.

[B]Vol. i. pp. 333-36.

[C]Hist. An., lib. ix., cap. 40, 41, 42.

[D]Œuvres x., 101, 104.

"The greatest progress, however, was afterwards made by Huber, whose discoveries, especially of the queen-bee's mode of impregnation, the slaughter of the drones or males, and the mode of working, have justly gained him a very high place among naturalists. Nor are his discoveries of the secretion of wax from saccharine matter, the nature of propolis, and the preparation of wax for building, to be reckoned less important. To these truths the way had been led by John Hunter, whose vigorous and original genius never was directed to the cultivation of any subject without reaping a harvest of discovery."

"The industry of the bee may be estimated by the average number of its daily excursions from the hive to collect provisions. According to Reaumur, if the total number of excursions be divided by the total number of bees in a hive, the average number daily made by each bee would be from five to six. But as one-half of the bees are occupied exclusively with the domestic business of the society, either in nursing and tending the young, packing and storing the provisions, or constructing the combs, the total number of excursions must be divided, not between the whole, but between only half the total number of bees, which would give ten excursions to each individual of the collecting class; and if the averagelength of each excursion be taken at three-quarters of a mile, this would give the average distance travelled by each collector as fifteen miles! It is estimated by Kirby that the quantity of ponderable matter thus transported exceeds a hundred pounds."

The Rev. Mr. Wood, in his little manual—the most sensible of its size that has yet appeared—writes:—

"No noticeable capital is required to commence; no noticeable amount of time is necessarily consumed in their management, and they may be kept almost anywhere, though not with equal profit. One apiarian, whose authority may be depended upon, gives the profits of eight stocks only as averaging about 20l.in three successive years. Another, who was regularly engaged from six to six daily in other avocations, cleared nearly 100l.in one year by his bees. The quantity of honey that may be obtained from a hive is exceedingly variable, but offering, therefore, only the greater assurance of due rewards for able management. Fifty or sixty pounds have not unfrequently been obtained from a single hive in a season, and occasionally as much as 100 lbs.; whilst from a set of collateral boxes, 100 lbs. is mentioned; and Cotton states that as much as 210 lbs. have really been stored in a singleseason, by a single stock similarly situated in a roomy trebled habitation. The prices of honey in London are stated to be generally as follows:—

"But pure native honey in the comb, obtained in glasses, is sought for the table, and therefore often sells for double the price above-mentioned. We shall only add, that Mr. Smart, a well-known apiarian, considers hundreds of stocks may be kept where only tens are now to be found, so far as regards the capabilities of support, the main point to be considered. To that subject, therefore, we now turn."

A rather exaggerated account of the excellence of honey is given by Butler:—

"Honey cutteth and casteth up phlegmatic matter, and therefore sharpeneth the stomachs of them which by reason thereof have little appetite; it purgeth those things which hurt the clearness of the eyes; it nourisheth very much; it breedeth good blood; it stirreth up and preserveth natural heat, and prolongeth old age; it keepeth all things uncorrupt which are put into it; andtherefore physicians do temper therewith such medicines as they mean to keep long."

In an article in theQuarterly Reviewit is stated:—

"In such esteem was it held, that one of the old Welsh laws ran thus:—'There are three things in court which must be communicated to the king before they are made known to any other person:—1st Every sentence of the Judge. 2nd. Every new song. 3rd. Every cask of Mead.' Queen Bess was so fond of it, that she had some made for her own especial drinking every year; and Butler, who draws a distinction between Mead and Metheglin, making Hydromel the generic term, gives a receipt for the latter and better drink, the same used by 'our renowned Queen Elizabeth of happy memory.'"

A bee-hunt in the prairies is thus described by Washington Irving:—

"We had not been long in the camp, when a party set out in quest of a bee-tree, and being curious to witness the sport, I gladly accepted an invitation to accompany them. The party was headed by a veteran bee-hunter, atall lank fellow in homespun garb, that hung loosely about his limbs, and a straw hat, shaped not unlike a bee-hive; a comrade, equally uncouth in garb, and without a hat, straddled along at his heels, with a long rifle on his shoulder. To these succeeded half-a-dozen others, some with axes, and some with rifles; for no one stirs from the camp without fire-arms, so that he may be ready either for wild deer or wild Indian. After proceeding some distance, we came to an open glade on the skirts of the forest. Here our leader halted, and then advanced quietly to a low bush, on the top of which I perceived a piece of honey-comb. This, I found, was the bait or lure for the wild bees. Several were humming about it, and diving into its cells. When they had laden themselves with honey, they would rise up in the air, and dart off in one straight line, almost with the velocity of a bullet. The hunters watched attentively the course they took, and then set off in the same direction, stumbling along over twisted roots and fallen trees, with their eyes turned up to the sky. In this way they traced the honey-laden bees to their hive, in the hollow trunk of a blasted oak, where, after buzzing about for a moment, they entered a hole about sixty feet from the ground. Two of the bee-hunters now plied their axes vigorously at the foot of the tree, to level it with the ground. Themere spectators and amateurs, in the meantime, drew off to a cautious distance, to be out of the way of the falling of the tree and the vengeance of its inmates. The jarring blows of the axe seemed to have no effect in alarming or agitating this most industrious community. They continued to ply at their usual occupations—some arriving full-freighted into port, others sallying forth on new expeditions, like so many merchantmen in a money-making metropolis, little suspicious of impending bankruptcy and downfall; even a loud crack, which announced the disrupture of the trunk, failed to divert their attention from the intense pursuit of gain: at length down came the tree with a tremendous crash, bursting open from end to end, and displacing all the hoarded treasures of the commonwealth. One of the hunters immediately ran up with a wisp of lighted hay, as a defence against the bees. The latter, however, made no attack, and sought no revenge; they seemed stupified by the catastrophe, and, unsuspicious of its cause, remained crawling and buzzing about the ruins, without offering us any molestation. Every one of the party now fell to, with spoon and hunting-knife, to scoop out the flakes of honey-comb with which the hollow trunk was stored. Some of them were of old date, and a deep brown colour; others were beautifully white, andthe honey in their cells was almost limpid. Such of the combs as were entire were placed in camp-kettles, to be conveyed to the encampment; those which had been shivered in the fall were devoured upon the spot. Every stark bee-hunter was to be seen with a rich morsel in his hand, dripping about his fingers, and disappearing as rapidly as a cream-tart before the holiday appetite of a schoolboy. Nor was it the bee-hunters alone that profited by the downfall of this industrious community. As if the bees would carry through the similitude of their hahits with those of laborious and gainful man, I beheld numbers from rival hives, arriving on eager wing, to enrich themselves with the ruins of their neighbours. These busied themselves as eagerly and cheerily as so many wreckers on an Indiaman that has been driven on shore—plunging into the cells of the broken honey-combs, banqueting greedily on the spoil, and then winging their way full-freighted to their homes. As to the poor proprietors of the ruin, they seemed to have no heart to do anything, not even to taste the nectar that flowed around them, but crawled backwards and forwards, in vacant desolation, as I have seen a poor fellow, with his hands in his pockets, whistling vacantly and despondingly about the ruins of his house that had been burned. It is difficult to describe the bewilderment and confusionof the bees of the bankrupt hive who had been absent at the time of the catastrophe, and who arrived, from time to time, with full cargoes from abroad. At first they wheeled about in the air, in the place where the fallen tree had once reared its head, astonished at finding all a vacuum. At length, as if comprehending their disaster, they settled down in clusters on a dry branch of a neighbouring tree, from whence they seemed to contemplate the prostrate ruin, and to buzz forth doleful lamentations over the downfall of their republic. It was a scene on which the 'melancholy Jaques' might have moralised by the hour."—Tour in Prairies, ch. ix.

"Bees, however, as we have already observed, are not usually ill-tempered; and, if not molested, are generally inoffensive. Thorley relates, that a maid-servant who assisted him in hiving a swarm, being rather afraid, put a linen cloth as a defence over her head and shoulders. When the bees were shaken from the tree on which they had alighted, the queen probably settled upon this cloth, for the whole swarm covered it, and then getting under it, spread themselves over her face, neck, and bosom, so that when the cloth was removed, she was quite a spectacle. She was with great difficulty kept from runningoff with all the bees upon her. But at length her master quieted her fears, and began to search for the queen. He succeeded, and expected that when he put her into the hive the bees would follow. He was, however, in the first instance disappointed, for they did not stir. Upon examining the cluster again, he found a second queen, or probably the former one, which had flown back to the swarm. Having seized her, he placed her in the hive, and kept her there. The bees soon missed her, and crowded into the hive after her, so that, in two or three minutes, not one remained on the poor frightened girl. After this escape she became quite a heroine, and would undertake the most hazardous employment about the hives."—Lardner.

"But connected with this, another important purpose of nature is fulfilled, which must not here pass without special notice. The principle, so fruitful in important social consequences among animals, that the offspring owes its parentage jointly to two individuals of different sexes, or, in other words, must always have a father and a mother, equally prevails in the vegetable kingdom. There also are the gentlemen and ladies, there also are the loves which unite them, loves which, as well as those of superior orders of beings, have supplied a theme forpoets. Now, among the many other interesting offices with which the Author of nature has invested the little creatures which form the subject of this notice, not the least singular is that of being the priests who celebrate the nuptials of the flowers. It is the bee literally which joins the hands and consecrates the union of the fair virgin lily and the blushing maiden rose with their respective bridegrooms. The grains of pollen which we have been describing are these bride and bridegrooms, and are transported on the bee from the male to the female flower; the happy individuals thus united in the bands of wedlock being the particular grains which the bee lets fall from its body on the flower of the opposite sex, as it passes through its blossom."And here we find another circumstance to excite our admiration of the wise laws of that Providence, which cares for the well-being of a little flower as much as for that of a great lord of the creation. If the bee wandered indifferently from flower to flower without selection, the gentlemen of one species would be mated with the ladies of another, hybrid breeds would ensue, and the confusion of species would be the consequence. But the bee, as knowing this, flies from rose to rose, or from lily to lily, but never from the lily to the rose, or from the rose to the lily."—Lardner.

"And here we find another circumstance to excite our admiration of the wise laws of that Providence, which cares for the well-being of a little flower as much as for that of a great lord of the creation. If the bee wandered indifferently from flower to flower without selection, the gentlemen of one species would be mated with the ladies of another, hybrid breeds would ensue, and the confusion of species would be the consequence. But the bee, as knowing this, flies from rose to rose, or from lily to lily, but never from the lily to the rose, or from the rose to the lily."—Lardner.

A popular acquaintance with the habits of bees is very important. Such an accident as the following, related in the Scotsman newspaper, could scarcely have occurred if the victim had learned a little on this subject:—

"On Thursday, while Dr. Bonthron, of West Linton, Peebleshire, was being driven along the road leading from Garvald to the railway station at Dolphinton, he was attacked by a swarm of bees, apparently newly 'cast-off,' and so severely stung on the face and head as to be unable to attend to his duties for the present. His face and head became dreadfully swollen and disfigured an hour or two after the occurrence, the eyes being firmly closed, and the face and throat greatly swollen and discoloured, while a considerable amount of fever has set in from the effects of the poison—in fact, but for the precautions taken, it is probable that the case would have proved fatal. The driver of the vehicle was also severely stung on several parts of the head and neck, and only escaped further mischief by a timely use of whip and rein. The queen-bee of the caste must have flown directly on Dr. Bonthron's head, from the instantaneousnesswith which he was perfectly covered by the bees: and it is supposed that the motion of the vehicle must have irritated the insects to use their stings. Upwards of thirty bee-stings were taken out of Dr. Bonthron's face, neck, and head."

Had Dr. Bonthron remained perfectly still, the bees would not have been irritated, and they would have discovered there was no room for a swarm of bees in his hat; and if the driver could have distinguished the queen-bee, and quietly removed and laid her on the hedge-side, no catastrophe would have occurred. Bees are perfectly harmless in swarming. But of course any attempt to drive them off from their queen by violence never can be made with impunity.

But in the swarming season it is most expedient that nobody but their bee-master should take any share in hiving a swarm; for so nervous are most people at the presence of ten thousand stings, that they will indiscreetly and ignorantly irritate such members of the young family as may accidentally alight on them.

A far more delightful incident is recorded by Thorley:—

"In or about the year 1717, one of my swarms settling among the close-twisted branches of some codling-trees, and not to be got into an hive without more help, my maid-servant, hired into the family the Michaelmas before, very officiously offered her assistance, so far as to hold the hive while I dislodged the bees, she being little apprehensive of what followed."Having never been acquainted with bees, and likewise afraid, she put a linen cloth over her head and shoulders, concluding that would be a sufficient guard, and secure her from their swords. A few of the bees fell into the hive; some upon the ground; but the main body of them upon the cloth which covered her upper garments."No sooner had I taken the hive out of her hands, but, in a terrible fright and surprise, she cried out the bees were got under the covering, crowding up towards her breast and face, which immediately put her into a trembling posture. When I perceived the veil was of no further service, she at last gave me leave to remove it. This done, a most affecting spectacle presented itself to the view of all the company, filling me with the deepest distress and concern, as I thought myself the unhappyinstrument of drawing her into so great and imminent hazard of her life, which now so manifestly lay at stake."It is not in my power to tell the confusion and distress of mind I was in, from the awful apprehensions it raised; and her dread and terror in such circumstances may reasonably be supposed to be much more. Every moment she was at the point of retiring with all the bees about her. Vain thought! to escape by flight. She might have left the place, indeed, but could not the company, and the remedy would have been much worse than the disease. Had she enraged them, all resistance had been vain, and nothing less than her life would have atoned for the offence. And now to have had that life (in so much jeopardy) insured, what would I not have given!"To prevent, therefore, a flight which must have been attended with so fatal a consequence, I spared not to urge all the arguments I could think of, and use the most affectionate entreaties, begging her, with all the earnestness in my power, to stand her ground, and keep her present posture; in order to which, I gave encouragement to hope, in a little space, for a full discharge from her disagreeable companions; on the other hand, assuring her she had no other chance for her life. I was, through necessity, constantly reasoning with her, or else beseeching and encouraging her."I began to search among them for the queen, now got in a great body upon her breast, about her neck, and up to her chin. I presently saw her, and immediately seized her, taking her from the crowd, with some of the commons in company with her, and put them together into the hive. Here I watched her for some time, and as I did not observe that she came out, I conceived an expectation of seeing the whole body quickly abandon their settlement; but instead of that, I soon observed them, to my greater sorrow and surprise, gathering closer together without the least signal for departing. Upon this I immediately reflected, that either there must be another sovereign, or that the same was returned. I directly commenced a second search, and in a short time, with a most agreeable surprise, found a second or the same; she strove, by entering further into the crowd, to escape me, which I was fully determined against; and apprehending her without any further ceremony, or the least apology, I reconducted her, with a great number of the populace, into the hive. And now the melancholy scene began to change, and give way to one infinitely more agreeable and pleasant."The bees, presently missing their queen, began to dislodge and repair to the hive, crowding into it in multitudes, and in the greatest hurry imaginable. And in the space of two or three minutes the maid had not a singlebee about her, neither had she so much as one sting, a small number of which would have quickly stopped her breath."How inexpressible the pleasure which succeeded her past fear! What joy appeared in every countenance upon so signal a deliverance! and what mutual congratulations were heard! I never call to mind the wonderful escape without a secret and very sensible pleasure. I hope never to see such another sight, though I triumph in this most noble and glorious victory."

"Having never been acquainted with bees, and likewise afraid, she put a linen cloth over her head and shoulders, concluding that would be a sufficient guard, and secure her from their swords. A few of the bees fell into the hive; some upon the ground; but the main body of them upon the cloth which covered her upper garments.

"No sooner had I taken the hive out of her hands, but, in a terrible fright and surprise, she cried out the bees were got under the covering, crowding up towards her breast and face, which immediately put her into a trembling posture. When I perceived the veil was of no further service, she at last gave me leave to remove it. This done, a most affecting spectacle presented itself to the view of all the company, filling me with the deepest distress and concern, as I thought myself the unhappyinstrument of drawing her into so great and imminent hazard of her life, which now so manifestly lay at stake.

"It is not in my power to tell the confusion and distress of mind I was in, from the awful apprehensions it raised; and her dread and terror in such circumstances may reasonably be supposed to be much more. Every moment she was at the point of retiring with all the bees about her. Vain thought! to escape by flight. She might have left the place, indeed, but could not the company, and the remedy would have been much worse than the disease. Had she enraged them, all resistance had been vain, and nothing less than her life would have atoned for the offence. And now to have had that life (in so much jeopardy) insured, what would I not have given!

"To prevent, therefore, a flight which must have been attended with so fatal a consequence, I spared not to urge all the arguments I could think of, and use the most affectionate entreaties, begging her, with all the earnestness in my power, to stand her ground, and keep her present posture; in order to which, I gave encouragement to hope, in a little space, for a full discharge from her disagreeable companions; on the other hand, assuring her she had no other chance for her life. I was, through necessity, constantly reasoning with her, or else beseeching and encouraging her.

"I began to search among them for the queen, now got in a great body upon her breast, about her neck, and up to her chin. I presently saw her, and immediately seized her, taking her from the crowd, with some of the commons in company with her, and put them together into the hive. Here I watched her for some time, and as I did not observe that she came out, I conceived an expectation of seeing the whole body quickly abandon their settlement; but instead of that, I soon observed them, to my greater sorrow and surprise, gathering closer together without the least signal for departing. Upon this I immediately reflected, that either there must be another sovereign, or that the same was returned. I directly commenced a second search, and in a short time, with a most agreeable surprise, found a second or the same; she strove, by entering further into the crowd, to escape me, which I was fully determined against; and apprehending her without any further ceremony, or the least apology, I reconducted her, with a great number of the populace, into the hive. And now the melancholy scene began to change, and give way to one infinitely more agreeable and pleasant.

"The bees, presently missing their queen, began to dislodge and repair to the hive, crowding into it in multitudes, and in the greatest hurry imaginable. And in the space of two or three minutes the maid had not a singlebee about her, neither had she so much as one sting, a small number of which would have quickly stopped her breath.

"How inexpressible the pleasure which succeeded her past fear! What joy appeared in every countenance upon so signal a deliverance! and what mutual congratulations were heard! I never call to mind the wonderful escape without a secret and very sensible pleasure. I hope never to see such another sight, though I triumph in this most noble and glorious victory."

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