PART II.

CHAPTER XXXI.

ANATOMY.

Having given in detail the instructions necessary for the domestic management of the Bee, and treated of such parts of its physiology as that detail naturally suggested; I shall now proceed to give an account of the most important parts of its anatomical structure, and so much more of its physiology as may arise from a consideration of that structure, or be otherwise likely to interest my readers.

Some persons may possibly consider a description of the anatomy of so small a creature as unimportant and uninteresting; but without understanding the anatomy of the bee, its physiology would be vague, uncertain, and conjectural; and it is physiological knowledge that has hitherto led, and must still lead, to a scientific and profitable management of this insect. The enlightened +Boyle+, when contemplating the various wonders of Nature, has declared his astonishment to have been more excited by the mite than by the elephant; and that his admiration dwelt, not so much on the clocks as on the watches of creation. It is not my intention, however, to enter deeply into the anatomy of the bee, but merely to give a general account of those parts which are most prominent and important; anything beyond this would, to the general reader, be tedious and uninteresting. Those who desire minute information may obtain it in various works, but in none more satisfactorily than in that of +Messrs. Kirby+ and +Spence+.

The natural } { The Head. divisions of } are { The Trunk. the Bee } { The Abdomen.

These are connected together by ligaments.

The +Head+, in common with that of other creatures, is the inlet for nutrition and the principal seat of the organs of sensation.--Of nutrition and sensation I shall speak in their appropriate places.

The +Trunk+ is the intermediate section of the body between the head and the abdomen: it approaches in figure to a sphere, and is the seat of the organs of motion; it contains the muscles of the wings and legs which proceed from it, and is the main prop, or as it were the key-stone, of the other two sections. The upper side is called thorax or the chest, the under side pectus or the breast.

The +Abdomen+ is the third section of the body, posterior to the trunk; it is divided into six rings or segments, which, by sliding one over another, serve to shorten or lengthen the body. It is the seat of the organs of generation, and principally of those connected with respiration; and contains also the anus and the sting. The upper part is called tergum or the back, the under side venter or the belly.

+The Head.+

The most remarkable part of the head is the +Proboscis+, of which so good an account has been given by +Dr. Evans+ that I shall describe it nearly in his words.

It is not so much the mere simplicity of nature, which excites our wonder and admiration, as that apparently complex structure, which operates with all the ease of the simplest machinery. Of this we have not a more striking instance than in the proboscis of the labouring bee: though the component parts of the proboscis are scarcely discernible by the naked eye, yet are they far more complicated than the elephant's stupendous trunk. It consists of no less than five distinct branches; namely, a central trunk, or tongue, and four horny scales, tapering to a point, convex outwards and concave towards the trunk; the two outer ones so sheath the inner as to appear but one single tube: by a joint in the middle they bend, or extend all at once, carrying with them the unarticulated tongue, which is cylindrical, and about the size of a man's hair, and appears through a magnifier to be composed of successive rings. It has probably as many short muscles as the tongue of a fish, which are capable of moving it in all directions; and towards its termination is furnished with hairs or villi, some of which at the point are very long, and seem to act like capillary tubes. +Mr. Wildman+ assures us, that he has seen the trunk growing bigger and less by turns, swelling the instant the bee sucked; and this alternate lessening and enlargement propagated from the extremity to the root. What a delicate apparatus of invisible muscles must perform this office! The tongue is capable of being contracted and folded up at pleasure; for if it were constantly extended, it would be exposed to injury: when at rest, therefore, it is doubled up by means of its joint, and lies in a very small compass; the first portion being brought within the lip, and the second part folded under the head and neck, protection is given to it by a double sheath, consisting of four strong scales, the two inner scales sheathing the tongue, and the two outer and larger ones encompassing the whole. When at work, the trunk is lengthened beyond its sheaths, probes the very bottom of the flowers, through all impediments of foliage or fructification, and drains them of those treasured sweets which, without such an apparatus, would be completely inaccessible.

The proboscis of the bee is not used like that of other flies, not being tubular like theirs, but serves as a brush or besom to sweep, or as a tongue to lap; having collected the nectar of flowers in small drops, it deposits its collection upon the tongue, which is protruded for the purpose of receiving it, and having received it, withdrawn again.

The +Lips+. The bee has two lips, an upper one called labrum, and an under one called labium; (the Mentum of Latreille.)

The +Tongue+ of the bee, which is very long, is at its upper part cartilaginous; below the middle, membranous and capable of considerable inflation, thus forming a bag to receive the honey from the proboscis, preparatory to its conveyance into the pharynx. It terminates in a knob, but has no passage through it, to exercise the power of suction, as has been supposed. When in a state of inaction, it is folded up longitudinally, and lies between the lips. The tongue of the working bee is probably the largest of any known animal, for its size; it is much longer than that of either the male or queen, and thus fitted for taking up honey at a considerable depth. The bee has the power of unfolding it with great rapidity, and darting it betwixt the petals and stamina of those flowers that afford honey, it moves it about in every direction, sweeping the convex as well as the concave surface of the petals.

The +Pharynx+ lies at the root of the tongue; it is an opening by which the honey passes from the tongue to the gullet or honey-bag, and closes by a valve.

The +Œsophagus+ or +Gullet+ receives the food from the pharynx, and conveys it, in part at least, to the stomach, there to be digested, animalized, and forwarded to the small intestines, from whence it is distributed, through appropriate vessels or tubes, to all parts of the body for its nutriment. The gullet is long and slender, commences at the termination of the pharynx, and traversing the neck and breast, dilates into a fine bag, transparent as crystal, and when filled with honey about the size of a small pea. In bees caught on going out early in the morning, Mr. Hunter found this reservoir perfectly empty; but in those returning from the fields, it was quite full of honey, some of which had passed into the stomach.

The +Mandibles+ or upper jaws move horizontally, and are armed with teeth.

The +Maxillæ+ or under jaws are situated below the mandibles, have a similar motion, and form, according to Linnæus, the sheath of the tongue. De Geer regarded them as part of the apparatus of the under lip, on each side of which they are placed.

The mandibles are powerful organs, hard and horny, and constitute the tools with which the bee performs its various labours; the maxillæ on the contrary are soft and leathery: the latter probably serve to hold such materials as the former have occasion to operate upon.

The +Antennæ+. Of all the organs of insects, none appear to be of more importance than their antennæ: in all the tribe they are planted either between or below the eyes; and no insect has more than two: in their general structure, they consist of a number of tubular joints, each having a separate motion, which gives them every variety of flexure. The antennæ of the male have one more joint than those of the female, the former having thirteen, the latter only twelve. They seem to enable the insects, by certain signs and gestures, to communicate to each other their mutual wants or discoveries. But I shall enter more fully into this subject when I come to speak of the various uses to which the antennæ are applied.

The +Palpi+ or +Feelers+ are also important organs; their ends are furnished with nervous papillæ, indicating some peculiar sense, of which they are the instrument: they are four in number, two emerging from the maxillæ called maxillary feelers, and one from each side of the labium, called labial feelers. The maxillary are short and without a joint, the labial long and with four joints, including the two flat joints or elevators.

The +Eyes+, two in number, are placed in the sides of the head; they are compounds of an infinite number of hexagonal lenses, as clear as crystal, and are guarded by a horny tunicle or covering. This subject is however treated of in Chap. XXXII.

+The Trunk.+

The trunk affords attachment to the organs of motion.

First, To the +Wings+, which transport the insect through the air; these consist of two superior and two inferior: they are membranous and transparent, and while in a state of repose are incumbent on each other, covering the abdomen.

Bees and various other hymenopterous insects, and also those of the dipterous family, possess the power of flying in a more perfect degree than any class of animals besides, surpassing in this respect even the bird tribe. In the anterior margin of the under wings small hooks (hamuli) are placed, which are capable of laying hold of the posterior margin of the upper wings, by means of which they are kept steady when flying. These hooks are discoverable under a good magnifier.

Secondly, To the +Legs+, by which the insect moves itself from place to place upon the earth. Of these there are six in number, each composed of several joints, and articulated like our arms, thus affording the power of various movements: in the legs are three distinct divisions; namely, the thigh, the shank, and the foot. In the four hinder legs one joint forms a kind of brush, externally smooth and bare, but covered on the inside with stiff bristling hairs. By these the insect is enabled to brush off farina both from the tips of the stamina of flowers and from the hairs of its own body. With the jaws and two fore-feet, the meal is rolled into small compact masses, which are conveyed, by the middle pair of legs, to the spoon-shaped cavities in the centre joint of the two hindmost feet; these are surrounded by strong close set hairs, to secure more firmly the precious burdens. (No such groove is to be found in the legs of either the queen-bee or drone.) Each foot terminates in two hooks, with their points opposite to each other, by means of which the bees suspend themselves from the roofs or sides of the hives or boxes, and hang from each other, in the form of festoons, ropes, or cones. From the middle of each pair of hooks proceeds a little thin appendix, which is usually folded up; when unfolded it enables the insects to fasten themselves to polished surfaces, such as glass, &c.: they probably also use it for taking up small bodies, the pollen for instance, which they thereby transmit to the hollows of their hinder legs.

The trunk also gives origin to a number of muscles, serving various purposes, which it would lead me too much into detail to enter upon here.

+The Abdomen.+

The abdomen, besides various other parts, contains the honey-bag, the venom-bag, and the anus, which latter in the female comprehends the ovipositor and sting: in the male it contains the organs of reproduction but no sting, and of course no ovipositor. For a particular account of these, vide Organs of Reproduction further on.

+Organs of Sensation.+

We have an abundance of presumptive evidence that bees are endowed with sensation and perception, and that the excitement of these faculties is communicated, through the medium of nerves, to a common sensorium, though the latter was denied to insects by Linnæus and other eminent naturalists. Common sensation, however, does not reside in the brain alone of insects, as in that of warm-blooded animals, but in the spinal marrow also; hence it is that bees and many other insects exhibit signs of sensation after their heads have been severed from their bodies. Some insects exhibit these for a long time afterwards, the wasp for instance; +Lyonnet+ informs us that he has seen motion in the body of a wasp, three days after its division from the head; and I have known several instances of its inflicting wounds with its sting, at least four-and-twenty hours after the separation. The severed body will not only move but walk, and sometimes even fly, at first almost as actively without the head as with it. The penetrating genius of +Lord Bacon+ afforded him such illumination upon this subject, as to enable him to approach very near to what is at this day regarded as a correct statement of the cause of this protracted vitality in mutilated insects. "They stirre," says he, "a good while after their heads are off, or that they be cut in pieces; which is caused also for that their vital spirits are more diffused throughout all their parts, and lesse confined to organs than in perfect creatures."

That insects have a real sensorium or brain, would seem to be proved by their having memory, and a capacity to receive instruction, and acquire new habits. Such functions in higher animals are regarded as functions of a cerebral system. That they are endowed with memory cannot well be doubted. +Huber+ relates a remarkable instance of it in bees, which illustrates what will hereafter be said on their having a method of communicating information to each other. "Honey," says he, "had been placed in a window in autumn, where the bees resorted to it in multitudes. It was removed, and the shutters closed during winter; but when opened again, on the return of spring, the bees came back, though no honey was there. Undoubtedly they remembered it, therefore an interval of several weeks did not obliterate the impression they had received." "But the most striking fact evincing the memory of bees has been communicated to me," says +Mr. Kirby+, "by my intelligent friend +Mr. W. Stickney+, of Ridgemont, Holderness. About twenty years ago, a swarm from one of this gentleman's hives took possession of an opening beneath the tiles of his house, whence, after remaining a few hours, they were dislodged and hived. For many subsequent years, when the hives descended from this stock were about to swarm, a considerable party of scouts were observed, for a few days before, to be reconnoitring about the old hole under the tiles; and Mr. Stickney is persuaded, that if suffered, they would have established themselves there. He is certain that for eight years successively the descendants of the very stock that first took possession of the hole, frequented it as above stated, and not those of any other swarms; having constantly noticed them, and ascertained that they were bees from the original hive by powdering them, while about the tiles, with yellow ochre, and watching their return. And even at the present time, there are still seen every swarming season about the tiles, bees, which Mr. Stickney has no doubt are descendants from the original stock."

Some anecdotes of the spider prove that insects are capable of instruction. +M. Pelisson+, when he was confined in the Bastille, tamed a spider, and taught it to come for food at the sound of an instrument. A manufacturer also, in an apartment at Paris, fed 800 spiders, which became so tame, that whenever he entered it, which he usually did with a dish of flies, they immediately came down to receive their food. That insects are susceptible of a change of habits, or rather that they may acquire civilized habits, if I may say so, is shown by the domestication of bees, and occasionally by that of ants and wasps. +Huber's+ experiments, with leaf-hives, show the existence of this faculty in an eminent degree, for he assures us that it renders the bees quite tame and tractable.

Most physiologists, resting upon the evidence of analogy, agree in attributing five senses to insects: (+Dr. Virey+, as will be seen further on, ascribes to them seven senses:) though there is a difference of opinion as to the organs by which those senses are conveyed. The antennæ for instance, have been regarded by some as the organs of smell, by others as the organs of touch, and by a third class as the organs of hearing. With the substitution of taste forbearing, the same opinions have been maintained respecting the palpi; nor can the question even now be considered as settled. The prevailing opinion seems to be, that the antennæ are explorers or tactors, but that they are also applied to other uses; the effects produced by their excision indicate that they are organs of the highest importance. Vide Senses of Bees.

+Messrs. Kirby+ and +Spence+ notice the analogy borne by antennæ to the ears of vertebrate animals, such as their corresponding in number and standing out from the head. No ether organ has been found which can be supposed to represent the ear. And what I have said in another place, of their constituting a sixth sense, has received some countenance from the observations of those naturalists. "I conceive," says Mr. K., "that the antennæ, by a peculiar structure, may collect notices from the atmosphere, receive pulses or vibrations, and communicate them to the sensorium, which, [communications] though not precisely to be called hearing, may answer the same purpose." Lehmann calls the function of the antennæ aëroscepsy. A very remarkable instance of the effect produced upon them by sound, is adduced by the authors just quoted, which one of them has thus related. "A little moth was reposing upon my window; I made a quiet, not loud, but distinct noise: the nearest antenna immediately moved towards me. I repeated the noise at least a dozen times, and it was followed every time by the same motion of that organ; till at length the insect, being alarmed, became agitated and violent in its motions. In this instance, it could not be touch; since the antenna was not applied to a surface, but directed towards the quarter from which the sound came, as if to listen."

That the antennæ should have been regarded as organs of smell is not surprising when the proceedings of the bees on visiting flowers are considered; their first act is to introduce one of the antennæ, but no further than the tip: this conduct would naturally enough convey the idea of looking or smelling for nectar; yet it does not at all militate against the opinion that the antennæ are transmitters of sound; the sense which they supply may, in these little creatures, be so very fine, as to enable them to hear the bursting of an anther, or the exudation of nectar. The continual motion of the antennæ of insects from side to side, when they walk, conveys the idea that it is by their means that they inform themselves of what is going on in their immediate vicinity. The importance of the antennæ may be inferred from their very complicated structure. +Mr. Kirby+ has observed, that in one species of Apis which he examined, under a powerful magnifier, the ten last joints of the antennæ appeared to be composed of innumerable hexagons, and from this similarity in their structure to the eyes (Vide Senses of Bees) he thought that they might serve a somewhat analogous purpose.

What I have said with respect to the Senses of Bees, in another place, will I think make it evident that these insects possess an organ of smell, but with respect to its situation naturalists differ. +Baster+, +Lehmann+, and +Cuvier+, consider the spiracles as the organs of smell, as well as of respiration: this opinion is founded upon the notion that, without the inspiration of air, there can be no smell; and that as insects are smaller than the food they live upon, it would be of no consequence to them where this sense was situated. +Kirby+ and +Spence+, on the contrary, suppose that it resides in some organ near the mouth: in other parts of the animal creation certainly, that is its situation; and as there seems to be a necessary connection between smell and taste, analogy should lead us to argue in favour of that opinion; but though smell be usually accompanied by respiratory organs, they may not be essentially necessary to it; a bee may receive impressions from external objects, in a manner which we cannot comprehend. In confirmation of this opinion of +Kirby+ and +Spence+, we have the experiments of +Huber+. It seems that no odour is so unpleasant to insects as that of oil of turpentine. +M. Huber+ having presented this oil, on the point of a camel's hair pencil, successively to every part of the abdomen, trunk and head, it excited no uneasiness in the bee: he then tried the eyes and antennæ, but with the same result; yet as soon as he pointed it a little above the insertion of the proboscis, near the cavity of the mouth, the bee receded, became agitated, clapped its wings, and would have taken flight, had not the pencil been withdrawn. This experiment was repeated with the turpentine and other articles of penetrating odour, and with the same effect; but when the mouths of several bees were stopped with paste, no such consequences ensued, on the contrary they traversed the impregnated pencils without being at all annoyed by them; even honey did not attract them. All these circumstances tend to prove that the site of smelling is in or near the mouth.--This subject will be resumed in Chap. XXXII.

+Organs of Respiration.+

The respiration of bees is performed through several little orifices, called stigmata, spiracles, or breathing pores, situated in the sides of their bodies, behind their wings. +Reaumur+ was of opinion that inspiration was performed through the spiracles, and expiration through the mouth; but +Bonnet+ proved satisfactorily that neither inspiration nor expiration takes place through the mouth. The spiracles are connected with a system of air-vessels called tracheæ, ramifying through every part of the frame, and serving the purpose of lungs. From the absence of lungs, +Aristotle+ and the ancients in general thought that insects did not breathe. +Pliny+ may perhaps be excepted, for he has observed that dipping bees in honey or oil deprives them of life;--this immersion stops up the mouths of the spiracles. Modern physiologists have however incontestibly proved that they do breathe. "Life and flame," says +Cuvier+, "have this in common, that neither the one nor the other can subsist without air; all living beings, from man to the most minute vegetable, perish when they are utterly deprived of that fluid." +Huber+ detected the existence of the stigmata or breathing pores, by immersing different portions of a bee in water, and finally by total immersion, upon which he observed that bubbles of air attached themselves for some time to the orifices of the stigmata, which alternately appeared and receded, till their increased bulk enabled them to overcome the resistance of inspiration and rise to the surface. These respiratory organs escaped the observation of +Swammerdam+.

Air is equally necessary to insects in the egg state: +Spallanzani+ found that their eggs could not be hatched in small close vessels, though all other circumstances were favourable to a development. The eggs of the hive-bee, whilst in the ovaries, have a net-work of air-vessels spread over their surfaces;--these were discovered by Swammerdam: from analogy, we may reasonably conclude, that such a provision obtains generally.

The closeness of a hive, and its having no direct current of air through it, may favour a belief that bees can exist in any atmosphere, however vitiated, and may seem also to confirm the opinion of the ancients, that they have no particular system of respiratory organs. But +M. Huber+ and +Son+ have proved that they breathe like other animals, that they are speedily deprived of life, if the process of respiration be arrested; so delicate indeed is their organization, that they detect the smallest deterioration in the atmosphere of their hives, and immediately adopt measures to restore to this element the degree of purity essential to respiration: from some eudiometrical experiments, it has been ascertained that the air of a well stocked hive is as pure as that by which it is surrounded. Still neither wax nor pollen favours the generation of oxygen gas, nor have bees the faculty of generating it; for when very closely shut up, they perish in a few hours. The writers just referred to, discovered that the bees, by uniting the two wings of each side, by means of the small marginal hooks with which they are provided, so as to make them present the largest possible surface to the air, were capable of striking it with considerable force, and that this force was increased by the wings forming a slight concavity. The wings arranged in this manner, are put into a violent vibratory motion by the bees appointed to the office of ventilators, and produce what we call a draught of air. Ventilation is thus systematically accomplished. A certain portion of ventilating bees is stationed in files at the entrance of the hive, with their heads turned inwards; another and a larger party, in files also, stands a considerable way in the interior, with their heads towards the entrance: thus both these parties cooperate, in producing a current of air in the same direction, and are so arranged as not to interrupt the passage of their fellow-citizens, moving in and out. As this hard duty has no intermission during the day, nor in hot weather during the night, and must necessarily occasion fatigue, one set of ventilators is considerately relieved in about twenty-five minutes, by another set of fresh bees. Under particular circumstances the number of ventilating bees is considerably increased. "When the air," says +Huber+, "was not renewed in the manner desirable, we have seen all vibrating their wings at once, though this never occurs in the natural state, when the vibrations of a few are sufficient for ventilation." Although this fanning motion of the wings is so rapid as to render them almost indistinguishable, yet they may be observed to describe an arc of 90°. The sagacious bees remind me of a method which is sometimes adopted of renewing the air of a room, called pumping; some person moves the door backward and forward so rapidly as to cause a thorough agitation of the confined air, and the introduction of a fresh unvitiated atmosphere. "When they are engaged in ventilation, the bees by means of their feet and claws, fix themselves as firmly as possible, to the place they stand upon. The first pair of legs is stretched out before; the second extended to the right and left: whilst the third, placed very near each other, are perpendicular to the abdomen, so as to give that part considerable elevation." That ventilation is carried on for the purpose of renewing the air of the hives, and not for lowering its temperature, is evident from its being continued to a certain extent, even during the depth of winter.

The vibratory motion of the bee's wings has been regarded by some as the principal cause of the humming noise heard in every prosperous hive during the busy season. This humming has likewise been attributed to the rushing of the air through their spiracles: so thought +M. Chabrier+, and, I believe, +Mr. J. Hunter+. Mr. H. assures us that bees can produce a sound independently of their wings; for if these be smeared over with honey so as to stick together, the bee still makes a noise, which is shrill and peevish. He found the same effect from holding the bee by the legs, with a pair of pincers, while the wings were perfectly still, and also by immersing the insect in water, though not till it was very much teased.

The whole body of a drone is in a state of vibration when it hums. Though deprived of its wings, it is capable of producing a sound exactly similar, and probably the same with its former hum: even when the legs are cut off, the trunk retains its tremulous motion, and utters an audible noise. If immersed in water, many air-bubbles are disengaged from it: but though the mutilated insect be taken out alive, it is no longer sonorous. "This experiment, however incomplete," says a writer in the Dictionnaire des Sciences Naturelles, "tends at least to prove, that the humming of bees is not occasioned by a strong vibration of the internal part of the upper wings, but rather by a tremulous affection of the entire body; and perhaps even by the escape of a greater quantity of air through the stigmata or spiracles. This last would amount to a sort of voice." The humming noise with which a flower is always approached by the bee, ceases as soon as she has alighted upon it, though during the time that she is extracting its sweets she is in a constant vibratory motion.

+Circulation.+

The term circulation is not strictly applicable to the imperfect sanguineous system of insects, as the fluid which supplies their bodies with nutriment is not distributed to its several parts through the medium of a heart and vascular system. Lyonnet and Cuvier are both of opinion that insects have no heart, whereas all creatures that possess a circulation, properly so called, have a heart, lungs or gills, and a liver; but insects have only air-vessels and hepatic ducts. The chyle which is produced in their intestines, transpiring through the pores of the intestinal canal, passes into the general cavity of the body, where it is probably animalized, and made to answer the same purposes that blood does to creatures of a higher class, though when animalized it still retains its white colour. Although its distribution is obscure, from its analogy to blood, we may conclude that it is a fluid which visits and nourishes every part of the insect's body; that from it secretions are made, and that, as in other creatures, it is fitted for these purposes by receiving oxygen from the air-vessels. +Cuvier+ has observed that the blood of insects, "for want of a circulating system, not being able to seek the air, the air goes to seek the blood;" the air-vessels, as I have stated under the head of Respiration, are distributed to every part of the body.

+Nutrition.+

From what I have said under the head of Circulation, it will appear evident that the bodies of bees and other insects are supplied with nutriment in a very simple manner. +Cuvier+ is of opinion that it is obtained by direct absorption or transudation, by imbibition as he calls it, through the pores of the intestinal canal, along which the blood or animalized chyle passes: and +Lyonnet+ thinks that this imbibition is analogous to that which takes place from the earth by the roots of plants.

+Secretion.+

Every thing connected with the subject of secretion seems to be obscure: it is evident, however, that secretions do take place; for silk, wax, and poison are all the results of that process. The first of these substances is only secreted by the bee when in its larva state. I must refer those who wish for information respecting silk, to those naturalists who have written on the silk-worm. The secretion of wax I shall treat of hereafter in a distinct chapter; and it will be better perhaps to speak of Poison, after describing the sting and its appurtenances. There is one secretion however, on which I will say a few words in this place,--viz. Perspiration.

+Perspiration.+

The temperature of insects not gregarious, is generally that of the medium they inhabit; but bees possess the power not only of preserving a high temperature during the coldest mouths of winter, but of raising that temperature under particular circumstances. +Dr. Darwin+ has observed that they generate heat by a general motion of their legs, as they hang clustered together in the hives: +Huber+ thinks that it may be increased by the agitation of their wings;--whatever disturbs them so as to cause a tumult invariably produces a considerable accession of heat. +Inch+, a German, plunged a thermometer into a bee-hive in the winter, and saw the mercury stand 27 degrees higher than it did in the open air. +Mr. Hunter+ found the heat of a hive vary from 73° to 84° of Fahrenheit; and +Huber+, who says that in a prosperous hive the thermometer in winter commonly stands at from 86° to 88°, and in summer between 95° and 97°, states that he has observed it, on some occasions, to rise suddenly from about 92° to above 104°. The former naturalist, about ten o'clock in the morning, in the middle of July, when the quicksilver in the thermometer in the open air ranged at 54°, found that on plunging it into a bee-hive, it rose in less than five minutes to 82°. At five the next morning it stood at 79°,--at nine it had risen to 83°,--at one to 84°; and at nine in the evening it had fallen to 78°. On the 30th of December, when the temperature of the air was 35°, that in the hive was 73°. Bees also possess the power of counteracting or throwing off superabundant heat, by perspiration. +Huber+ observed, that when crowded together in hot weather, they become much heated, and perspire so copiously that those near the bottom seem perfectly drenched, and are for a time incapable of flying from the moisture on their wings.

+Motion.+

The motions of insects are performed through the medium of an appropriate apparatus of muscles, which move the head, trunk, abdomen, viscera, and limbs, as in other parts of the animal creation. The muscles of insects generally possess very great power, as may be seen by the motion of the mandibles, and the propulsion of the bee's sting. It is very strikingly evinced also in the flea. +Latreille+ gives an account of one that dragged a silver cannon twenty-four times its own weight, firing it off afterwards, without exhibiting any symptom of fear. An English workman also is said to have made an ivory coach, with six horses, a coachman on the seat with a dog between his legs, a postillion, four persons in the coach, and four lacqueys behind,--the whole of which was dragged by a single flea. A further evidence of the muscular power of the flea is the extent of its leaps, which equal a space of 200 times the length of its own body. This calculation, or a very similar one, was made by +Socrates+, who was much ridiculed for it by +Aristophanes+. The poet, however, did not confine his ridicule to this minuteness of calculation, but attacked likewise the character and precepts of that great philosopher; for the whole of which satire he has justly incurred the censure of posterity.

+Organs of Reproduction.+

These organs, in the drone, correspond in function and denomination with those of the higher classes of animals: their chief peculiarity consists in their size, in proportion to that of the insect, and in their being more under the belly than in other insects of this tribe;--they are larger than those of the humble-bee, and the two last scales of the back and belly are larger than those of the queen or workers.

The female organs consist principally of the ovaries, the oviducts, the sperm-reservoir, and the ovipositor. In the ovaries the eggs are generated, and remain till rendered fit by impregnation, and the other circumstances necessary for their maturation, to pass through the oviducts. According to Mr. Hunter, what are called ovaries are really ducts; the eggs therefore are not formed as in other animals, in a cluster on the back, but in those ducts, of which there are six on each side. When full of eggs, they form a kind of quadrangle; these six ducts uniting on each side into one duct, this latter enters a duct common to both sides, which may be called the vagina or ovipositor. The common oviduct is the canal through which the eggs pass from the ovaries as they are called, to the ovipositor. The sperm-reservoir is the organ which, according to Herold, receives the impregnating sperm of the drone, the modus operandi of which we are unacquainted with. In the hive-bee and in some other insects, the influence of this sperm continues so long a time, and through so many generations, as almost to exceed belief. (Vide page 31). This led +Dr. Haighton+ to entertain the opinion that actual contact betwixt the male sperm and the egg was not necessary, but that impregnation was effected by some unknown sympathetic influence. +Messrs. Kirby+ and +Spence+ have recourse to the old doctrine of an aura seminalis being all that is required to vivify the egg, and which they think may be retained for a long period. Upon this subject I have entered at some length in page 25 et seq. The ovipositor places the eggs in their appropriate situations, and is an instrument of most curious structure. It consists of a long tube, or rather several tubes, retractile within each other, like the pieces of a telescope, and serves not only to convey the extruded eggs to the place of their destination, but acts also as a sheath for the sting, having a sharp point which makes the first impression when the creature intends to use its sting,--indeed it appears to be itself the sting. It has a slit near its extremity, through which the sting and poison are allowed to pass at the time of stinging. Some insects have occasion to bore a hole in wood, or other hard substances, to obtain a proper nidus for their eggs; the ovipositor is their operating instrument, and will either saw or bore a passage to the desired place. Thus it appears that this curiously complex apparatus, which in the bee is used both as a weapon of defence and offence, is a hollow horny tube or scabbard, inclosing two bearded darts, which can be thrust a short way beyond the sheath, though the whole appears to the naked eye like the solid point of the minutest needle.

This apparatus is moved by muscles which, though invisible to the eye, are yet strong enough to force the sting to the depth of one twelfth of an inch through the thick cuticle of a man's hand. It is articulated by thirteen scales to the lower end of the insect's body; and at its root are situated two glands or ducts, from which the poison is secreted: these glands uniting in one duct, eject the venomous liquid along the groove formed by the junction of the two piercers. There are four beards on the outside of each piercer: when the insect is prepared to sting, one of these piercers, having its point a little longer or more in advance than the other, first darts into the flesh, and being fixed by its foremost beard, the other strikes in also, and they alternately penetrate deeper and deeper, till they acquire a firm hold of the flesh with their hooks, and then follows the sheath entering and conveying the poison into the wound. The action of the sting, says +Paley+, affords an example of the union of chemistry and mechanism: of chemistry, in respect to the venom which can produce such powerful effects: of mechanism, as the sting is a compound instrument. The machinery would have been comparatively useless had it not been for the chemical process, by which in the insect's body honey is converted into poison; and on the other hand, the poison would have been ineffectual, without an instrument to wound, and a syringe to inject it.

In consequence of the barbed form of its sting the bee can seldom disengage itself without leaving behind it the whole apparatus, and even part of its bowels; so that her life is usually sacrificed to her passion.

"Illis ira modum supra est, læsæque venenum Morsibus inspirant, et spicula cæca relinquunt, Affixæ venis, animasque in vulnera ponunt."

+Virgil+

The sting of the queen-bee is longer and stouter than that of the working-bee, and bends a little under her belly. She is not eager to employ it; and from what has been said above, of the fatality which usually attends its use, conjecture has been busy as to the cause of her extreme caution in this respect. +Dr. Evans+ observes, that it cannot arise from any selfish consideration, founded on an instinctive knowledge of the danger she thereby incurs; since the common bees, who run the same risk when they sting, are ready to attack upon the slightest provocation. "Is it owing," says he, "to a consciousness of the importance of her life to the community? or may we rather ascribe it to the dignified and generous forbearance so frequently exemplified in the lion or English mastiff?"

The reluctance of queens to eject their stings, led Pliny and others to imagine that they did not possess any. Their extreme caution in this respect, and the fatal consequences usually attending a departure from it, gave birth to the following jeux d'esprit. In consequence of Pope Urban the Eighth being suspected of a stronger attachment to the French than to the Spaniards, a Frenchman who had observed three bees quartered upon his arms, wrote this Latin verse.

"Gallis mella dabunt, Hispanis spicula figent."

To this a Spaniard is said to have subjoined,

"Spicula si figant, emorientur apes."

To close the series, and to show his universal paternal regard towards his flock, Pope Urban is made to add the following distich:

"Cunctis mella dabunt, et nullis spicula figent, Spicula rex etenim figere nescit apum."

This caution of the queens is never more conspicuously evinced than in their combats with each other, for they instantly separate if there be any danger of mutual destruction from the darting forth of their stings. +Huber+ gives a striking instance of this. Two queens in one of his hives having left their cells at nearly the same instant, rushed together with great apparent fury. The antennæ of each were seized by the teeth of the other, and the head, breast, and belly of both were mutually opposed. Finding themselves however thus dangerously situated, and their curved extremities on the point of meeting, each disengaged itself and flew away; when the other bees, who had before receded, to make a clear arena for the combatants, drove them together again. This was done repeatedly, till at last the stronger queen, seizing the other's wing, and curling her extremities under her belly, inflicted a mortal sting.

I think this observation of Huber puts a negative upon Dr. Evans's last question, and to assent to his first would I apprehend raise her majesty too high in the scale of existence. I believe we must here, as in many other similar cases, acknowledge our ignorance, and refer the proceeding to instinct.

We have seen that where there is more than one native queen in a hive, there is always a combat between them, terminating in the death of all but one. It was the opinion of +Schirach+ and +Riem+, that if a stranger queen were introduced where there was a native one, the former would be assailed by the workers, and by them stung to death. The experiments of +Huber+ and +Dunbar+ discountenance this opinion: indeed Huber says that in the whole course of his experience he never knew more than one instance of a queen's being stung by a worker, and that was wholly unintentional.

But though the experiments to which I have just alluded, produced different results from what we were led to expect by Schirach and Riem, yet those of +Huber+ did not correspond with those of +Dunbar+. The former introduced two stranger queens into hives containing native queens; of the latter, one was fertile the other a virgin,--the former were both fertile. Each of these introductions led to a single combat between the queens, and each terminated in the death of the stranger. The latter gentleman also on two occasions introduced stranger queens to the queens regnant, in his mirror-hive; but in neither case were they stung to death, either by the queen or workers, but merely surrounded and confined by the latter, and by that confinement either suffocated or starved to death. +Schirach+ and +Riem+ had probably witnessed similar conduct on the part of the workers, and were no doubt led thereby to conjecture that they dispatched the queens with their stings.

From what has been said of the fatal consequence to the bee itself when it makes use of its sting for the annoyance of man and other animals, it might be supposed that the darting of this weapon by one bee into the body of another, might cause the death of both; but this is not usually the case, otherwise there would be a great mortality amongst them, when the persecution of the drones takes place. +Huber+ contrived, by placing several of his hives upon a glass table, to witness this scene of massacre; on which occasion the bees thrust their stings so deeply into the bodies of the drones, (generally between the segments of the abdomen,) as to be obliged to turn upon themselves, as upon a pivot, before they could extricate them; but by so doing they succeeded, as do the queens also in their combats with each other. Instances are related, of combats between workers proving mutually destructive, from the victors being unable to extricate their stings from the wounds they have inflicted. +Mr. Hunter+ saw an instance of this: the bee was stung in the mouth; and he saw it running about afterwards, with the sting and its appurtenances adherent in the wound.

Indeed by allowing the bee to draw out her Sting gradually, when we ourselves are stung,--which if we had sufficient firmness and presence of mind to remain still, she would instinctively do, by bringing the beards close down to the sides of the darts,--the life of this valuable insect might be preserved, and the pain in the wounded part be much lessened: but the alarm of both parties seldom admits of such forbearance. The wasp is not so liable to leave its sting behind as the bee, the beards of the former being rather shorter, and the insect stronger and more active.

The sooner the sting is extracted the less venom is ejected, and consequently less inflammation induced. To alleviate the irritation, numberless remedies have been proposed, of the most opposite kind and uncertain effect; as oil, vinegar, bruised parsley, burnet, mallow, or the leaves of any succulent vegetable (renewed as soon as warm, and probably therefore operating by cold alone), honey, indigo dissolved in water, &c. &c. The most effectual remedy appears to be the Aq. Ammon. or Spirit of Hartshorn: nor is this surprising, when we consider that the venom of the bee, or wasp, is evidently acid. If a humble-bee be irritated to sting paper tinged with litmus, or any other of the vegetable blues, the colour is changed by the acid of the venom to a bright red; this acid appears not to differ from the acid (bombic) of silk-worms, or (formic) of ants. The acrimony of the latter many have experienced when inadvertently sitting down on an ant-hill. On this principle, a solution of any alkali, or even lime-water, might answer the same purpose; and soap would have the double advantage of neutralizing the acid and allaying the inflammation, by the oil which would be disengaged. Plunging the part stung into cold or warm water would afford the same relief as in burns, &c. and also dilute the acid acrimony. Quietness is the surest protection against being stung. It has lately been affirmed, that a person is perfectly secure amidst myriads of bees, if he carefully keep his mouth shut, and breathe gently through the nostrils only, the human breath being, as it would appear, highly offensive to their delicate organs. (Vide Senses of Bees.) It is added that with this precaution, hives may be turned up, and even part of the combs cut out, while the bees are at work, with perfect impunity.

Those who wish to view the sting of a wasp or bee through a microscope, may cut off the end of its tail, when by touching it with a needle or pin it will thrust out the darts and their sheath, which may be then snipt off with a pair of scissors and reserved for observation. If the insect be caught in a leather glove and provoked to eject its sting, the same end will be answered; as the sting being detained by its barbs, will be left in the leather, from whence, when the creature is dead (which in the case of a wasp will not be for many hours), the whole apparatus may, with care, be extracted.

"Upon examining the edge of a very keen razor by the microscope, it appeared as broad as the back of a pretty thick knife, rough, uneven, and full of notches and furrows, and so far from any thing like sharpness, that an instrument as blunt as this seemed to be, would not serve even to cleave wood." "An exceedingly small needle being also examined, the point thereof appeared above a quarter of an inch in breadth; not round, nor flat, but irregular and unequal; and the surface, though extremely smooth and bright to the naked eye, seemed full of ruggedness, holes, and scratches. In short it resembled an iron bar out of a smith's forge." But the sting of a bee, viewed through the same instrument, showed every where a polish most amazingly beautiful,--without the least flaw, blemish, or inequality; and ended in a point too fine to be discovered: yet this is only the case or sheath of instruments much more exquisite, contained therein, as before described.

+The Poison of Bees.+

The poison of bees, as also that of wasps, is a transparent fluid: applied to the tongue it imparts a sweet taste, which is succeeded by a hot acrid one. It gives a slight red tinge, as has been already hinted, to litmus paper, and hence the +Abbé Fontana+ has concluded that an acid enters into its composition, but in very small proportion. The venom is so extremely active, that he conjectures a grain in weight would kill a pigeon in a few seconds. It is this fluid which causes the inflammation consequent upon being stung. A puncture from a needle that was charged with it, would produce precisely the same effects. These effects are very different in different persons; for whilst a single sting will produce alarming symptoms in one individual, another may receive numerous punctures without sustaining pain or inflammation in any considerable degree; sometimes without suffering either. The activity of the venom varies according to the season of the year: a sting received in winter produces much less inconvenience than one inflicted in summer; the pain and inflammation are neither so intense nor of such long continuance. This may arise from there being a more copious secretion of venom in summer than in winter; for during the former season, if a bee inflict several wounds with its sting, the pain and inflammation become progressively less at each consecutive puncture: after three or four punctures, it is rendered incapable of producing more inconvenience than the point of a sharp needle.

If a bee be provoked to dart its sting against glass, so as to eject its venom upon it, and the glass thus charged be placed upon a double microscope, oblong pointed crystals will become visible; these may be seen at first floating in the venom, and gradually shooting into crystals as the fluid part evaporates.

+The Anger of Bees.+

I have already treated of the disposition of bees to use their stings, when irritated, either by direct interference with them, or by the approach of persons to whom they have an antipathy. +Virgil+ has, in strong terms, noticed their irascibility:--when once provoked, says he, they set no bounds to their anger, but

"Deem life itself to vengeance well resign'd, Die on the wound, and leave their stings behind."

Fatal consequences occurring from their wounds are not often heard of, though such I believe have occasionally happened. +Messrs. Kirby+ and +Spence+ relate an instance of a violent fever being produced, by the injury they inflicted, and in which the person's recovery was for some time doubtful. +Mungo Park+ also mentions, in his Travels, an instance of severe annoyance from them, and states that he lost several asses in Africa owing to their being attacked by bees. +Mr. Talbot+, in his Five Years Residence in the Canadas, states, that during the summer of 1820, the Rev. Ralph Leeming having sent a fine horse to grass at a neighbouring farmer's, who kept about twenty stocks of bees, the animal got upon the lawn where the hives were placed, and by accident overturned one of them, the bees of which attacked him with great virulence. The horse, rearing and kicking from agony, overthrew another hive. Having thus doubled the number of his assailants, his sufferings brought him to the ground, and in less than five minutes from the commencement of the attack the poor animal was literally stung to death.

The anger of bees is not confined to man, and other large animals; it is sometimes vented upon their own kind, not only in single combat, but in conflicts of organized masses. Cases of the former kind every observer must have noticed; and of the latter, several instances have been related by +Reaumur+, +Thorley+, +Knight+, and others. The engagement, witnessed by +Thorley+, lasted more than two days, and originated in a swarm's attempting to take possession of an already occupied hive. Remarkable battles of this kind have also been related by other writers. Whenever the angry excitation is diffused through a whole community, a great accession of heat is produced in the hive.

Notwithstanding bees are thus occasionally animated by a most vindictive spirit, against what they regard as a public enemy, they are not found to display any peculiar hostility in the revenge of a private injury, committed upon them at a distance from their homes. This is a fact which has been noticed both by +Mr. Hunter+ and +Mr. Knight+. The former observes also, that bees never sting but in the neighbourhood of their property, unless hurt; that they never contend with each other for honey, unless it be placed within the boundary of their own right,--but that what they have collected they defend. The indisposition of bees to attack or be angry at a distance has been confirmed by +Mr. Knight+, who says, that, though the most irritable of animals near home, he has seen them suffer themselves to be patiently robbed of their loads by other bees, and that he has witnessed this in the same bee three times in succession. He says likewise, that if the wasps in a nest have their communication cut off from those that are abroad, the latter, on their return, will not make any attack; but that if one escape from the interior, it evinces a very different temper, and is ready to sacrifice its life to avenge the injury. This +Mr. Knight+ discovered when a boy, and he has no doubt but that if a similar proceeding were adopted towards bees, they would observe the same conduct.

+The Language of Bees.+

All creatures that live in society seem to possess the power of communicating intelligence to one another. "Brutes," says +Mr. Knight+, "have language to express sentiments of love, of fear, and of anger; yet they seem unable to transmit any impression they have received from external objects. But the language of bees is more extensive: if not a language of ideas, it is something very similar." This faculty has been very remarkably illustrated by +Huber+ in his Treatise on Ants; and the bee exhibits many strong evidences of it. +Huber+ clearly shows that the communications of Ants are made through the medium of their antennæ; he has also proved very satisfactorily, that these organs serve the same purpose in bees.

Being desirous of ascertaining whether when a queen was removed from a hive, (a circumstance which is communicated to the whole family within an hour,) they discovered their loss by means of smell, touch, or any unknown sense; he accordingly divided a hive into two portions, by means of a grating which admitted a free circulation of air, but denied a passage to the bees, or even to their antennæ: the consequence was, that the bees contained in the half that had no queen, after they had recovered from the agitation always produced under such circumstances, set about building royal cells, just as they would have done if the queen had been entirely removed from the hive. He repeated this experiment, with a grating which allowed the transmission of the antennæ only. Here the effect was quite different: for the bees being able to assure themselves, by the frequent crossing of their antennæ with those of the queen, that she was still amongst them, every thing remained in order; the brood were attended to, no interruption took place in any of their labours, nor were any royal cells commenced. From all these experiments (and they were repeatedly tried), it seems evident that the antennæ of bees, as well as of ants, possess the faculty of receiving and conveying information. Bees receive some kinds of intelligence through the medium of certain sounds, as has been stated in another place.

The antennæ, in addition to the uses already ascribed to them, may serve to inform the bees of the state of the atmosphere, and enable them to discern the approach of a change in the weather. The suddenness and rapidity of their flight towards the apiary, often afford a hint to the observer of their proceedings, that a storm is at hand, of which he received no intimation from any other quarter.

"Inque vicem speculantur aquas et nubila cœli."

+Virgil+

"That the bees," says +Dr. Evans+, "can foresee bad weather, is a fact beyond denial; though we know not through the medium of what sense that faculty is exerted. We are often surprised to find, even with a promising appearance of the sky, their labours suddenly cease, and that not a bee stirs out; or, on the contrary, that those which a e abroad, hurry home in such crowds that the door is too small for their admission. But on strictly examining the heavens, we may discern some small and distant clouds, which, insensibly collecting, soon after descend in rain." The Doctor likewise says, that an observant friend of his, foretells with confidence that rain will fall in the course of a few hours, when he finds on a clear summer's morning that his garden is wholly deserted by his neighbour's bees. In this he enjoys an advantage over their real owner, the flowers near the apiary being crowded as usual by these wary foragers. "If," says +Mr. Kirby+, "they wander far from home, and do not return till late in the evening, it is a prognostic to be depended upon, that the following day will be fine: but if they remain near their habitations, and be seen frequently going and returning,--although no indication of wet should be discoverable, clouds will soon arise and rain come on. Ants also are observed to be excellently gifted in this respect: though they daily bring out their larvæ to the sun, they are never overtaken by sudden showers."

I have before stated that in the course of an hour the important intelligence of the loss or safety of a queen is known to a whole colony. It seems highly improbable that in this time, 20,000 bees should have assured themselves of the presence and safety of their queen, by applying their antennæ to hers; such an attempt would create a state of complete confusion. Huber proved by a very decisive experiment, similar to those already related, that the queen is not distinguishable by her subjects, in consequence of any emanation from her person. There must then be some mode, to which I have given the name of language, by which those who have exchanged contact with their antennæ can communicate the tranquillizing intelligence to their companions. It seems impossible to explain, in any other way, the concurrence of so many wills to one end; or that sudden interruption and restitution of harmony which are often exhibited in every community of bees. It is the opinion of +Mr. Knight+ that bees are not only capable of communicating intelligence to the members of their own family, but that a friendly intercourse sometimes takes place between neighbouring colonies: the cases which he has related in support of this opinion, however, can hardly be said to bear him out in it; for in each of them, after the intercourse had continued for a few days, it terminated in violent hostility. Such instances, though not of frequent occurrence, have been occasionally noticed by others.

+Sleep of Bees.+

It is reasonable to suppose that every part of animated nature needs occasional intervals of repose. That this is the case with the bee seems evident, from the almost motionless quietude of the workers, which often occurs for fifteen or twenty minutes together, each bee inserting its head and thorax into a cell, where it might be mistaken for dead, were it not for the dilatation of the segments of its abdomen. The queen sometimes does the same in a drone's cell, where she continues without motion a very long time, when "the workers form a circle round her, and gently brush the uncovered parts of her abdomen. The drones while reposing do not enter the cells, but cluster in the combs, and sometimes remain without stirring a limb for eighteen or twenty hours." +Huber+ says that he has seen the workers, even in the middle of the day, when apparently wearied with exertion, insert half their bodies into the empty cells, and remain there, as if taking a nap, for half an hour or longer; at night they regularly muster, in a sleep-like silence.

"The sun declining, through the murky air. Home to their hives the vagrant bands repair, There in soft slumber close their willing eyes, And hush'd in silence, the whole nation lies."

+Murphy's Vaniere.+

+Longevity of Bees.+

The several members of a hive have very different periods of existence. The general law among insects is, that both male and female shall perish soon after sexual union; in a few days or weeks at furthest, according to the time, probably, that the female occupies in maturing and depositing her eggs. By retarding sexual union, the lives of some insects may be very much prolonged,--even ephemeræ have been kept alive by this means for seven or eight days. Annual plants, if prevented from seeding, may be rendered biennial. The bee and some other insects are exempted from this forfeiture of life after sexual union, with the exception already alluded to in page 33. The ancients were very deficient in knowledge upon this subject. +Virgil+ fixes the term of a bee's existence at seven years, having probably copied from +Aristotle+; though Aristotle says that bees who live to an extreme old age may reach to nine or ten years. +Columella+ and +Pliny+ have been supposed to regard their existence as extending to ten years; though the language of the former applies to the existence of the community, and not to individual bees: and provided the hive be never changed, nor the combs renewed, it is not likely that any one family should have its existence prolonged beyond that period; as the accumulation of silken pellicles with which the breeding-cells are successively lined, would render them unfit for use in a very few years. In addition to the diminution of the cells by this succession of silken linings, they are also diminished further by the excrement of the larvæ, which is never cleaned out, but confined behind each lining: both together, therefore, soon render the cells unfit for use as brood-cells. +Mr. Hunter+ found three of these layers deposited in a single season, and counted upwards of twenty in the cells of an old comb; which, upon an average of three a year, would correspond with the period fixed by the ancients; though this observation by no means proves that the hive upon which it was made, or any other, might not have had a much more protracted existence. +Mr. Espinasse+ tells us that he once took a hive which had stood fourteen years, having found that it had become weak: it had nevertheless sent off a swarm the year previous. There is an instance or two on record, of one family having continued in the same hive for thirty years. One of these is mentioned by +Reaumur+, another by +Mouffet+. +Thorley+ speaks of a colony having occupied the same domicile for 110 years. The spot chosen was under the leads of the study of +Ludovicus Vives+ in Oxford: the original swarm settled there in 1520 and kept possession till 1630. Query,--may not the bees when the combs become very old and the cells much diminished in size, remove them and construct fresh ones? To those who may wish for their own satisfaction to examine the linings of a brood cell, I would observe, that +Mr. Hunter's+ mode of proceeding was, to soak the cell in water, till the linings were swelled, when he had no difficulty in separating and counting them: he found them separate most readily at the bottom, on account of the inclosed excrement.

"Ergo ipsas quamvis angusti terminus ævi Excipiat, neque enim plus septima ducitur æstas." ]

"Durantque, si diligenter excultæ sint, in annos decem."

+Columella+]

"Alveos nunquam Ultra decem annos durasse proditur."

+Pliny+]

To common observers it might appear, that the lives of the bees were coeval with the foundation of the colony, presuming upon all the young bees leaving the parent stock in swarms. But I have already stated that all swarms consist of a mixture of young and old bees; the difference between them is very distinguishable, those of the present year being brown, plump, and clothed with light hairs, whilst the old ones have red hairs, notched and ragged wings, and are paler and more shrunk in their bodies.

The cases which I have related, and others of a similar kind, have led to the erroneous opinion that bees are a long-lived race. But this, as +Dr. Evans+ has observed, is just as wise as if a stranger, contemplating a populous city, and personally unacquainted with its inhabitants, should on paying it a second visit, many years afterwards, and finding it equally populous, imagine that it was peopled by the same individuals, not one of whom might be then alive. "Such strangers are we to the honied hive, where, however quickly its generations may have passed away, the same face is presented to the beholder."

"The race and realm from age to age remain, And time but lengthens with new links the chain."

+Sotheby's Georgics.+

The usual term of the male's existence is two or three months only;--I say the usual term, for his life is always cut off by violence, when no peculiar circumstances arise to render his existence any longer useful. Such circumstances having arisen, as has been before observed, (page 44,) he may be kept alive a much longer period, for a year at least, but how much longer has not as yet been ascertained.

With respect to the queen, by comparing what has been said above, as to insects not dying till their eggs are all matured, with what has been stated in page 31 of a single sexual union serving to impregnate all the eggs laid for the two succeeding years, it would appear that the period of her existence could not, in general, be less than two years; and +Huber+ has proved very satisfactorily, that this is the fact: indeed he states that he has known a queen live for five years. +Feburier+ suspects that, like the males, the queens are destroyed by the labourers, when they have fulfilled their destination. The only ground of this opinion, however, appears to be his having witnessed an attack made upon a queen by six labourers, from whom he with difficulty rescued her. +Messrs. Kirby+ and +Spence+, in like manner, seem to think it not improbable that when the workers become too old to be useful to the community, they are either killed or expelled the society. Vide page 7. Reaumur also throws out a hint to the same purpose.

The length of a working bee's life has not yet been ascertained; but the general opinion is that it is short-lived. +Butler+ says that "the bee is but little more than a year's bird;" and some think the period of its existence shorter still. "The bees of the present year," says +Butler+, "will retain their vigour and youthful appearance till (Gemini), about the 21st of May in the following year, when they begin to decline, and from (Cancer to Leo) June 21st to August 21st, the ground in front of the apiary may be seen strewed with them, some dead, some dying, and a few alive but incapable of rising again, and by (Libra) 32d September, scarcely an old bee will be left."