" Observations sur les Abeilles," tome i., pp. 174—178. t "Many ruling together i» not good: let there be one ruler, one king.'*— fomer' s " I/iaJ," il no.

anything to fear from rivals. Let us remark, in passing, that man is not much behind these insects whose savage exploits in cruelty we have just related. Among certain tribes of Ethiopians the first care of the newly-crowned chief is to put in prison all his brothers, so as to prevent wars by pretenders to the throne. Delivered from all dread of rivals, our queen sets to work with an indefatigable zeal; and the workers, animated by the hope of a numerous progeny, heap up provisions around them. But now a new tragedy is about to be enacted. The drones, that is to say, the males, are now no longer wanted in the colony: their mission is over. By an inexorable law of Nature they must be got rid of, and the working bees proceed to make general massacre of them. It is in the months of July and August that this frightful carnage takes place. The workers may be seen furiously giving chase to the males, and pursuing them to the extremity of the hive, where these unfortunate insects seek a place of safety. Three or four workers dash off in the pursuit after a male. They seize hold of him, pull him by his legs, by his wings, by his antennae, and kill him with their stings. This pitiless massacre includes even the larvae and pupae of the males. The executioners drag them from their cells, run them through with their stings, greedily suck the liquids contained in their bodies, and then cast their remains to the winds. This slaughter goes on for many days, continuing till the males have been completely got rid of, they not being able to defend themselves, as they have no stings. They are allowed to live, however, when they are fortunate enough to inhabit a hive deprived of its queen. There they even find a place of perfect safety when they have been driven out of another hive, and may be met with in this refuge until the month of January. In like manner the lives of the males are spared in those hives which, instead of a true queen, have only a female half impregnated, which lays only male eggs; but a hive of this kind, whose active population cannot be increased, ends by being abandoned by its inhabitants. The sterility or absence of the queen entails the dissolution of the society. She is, in fact, the life and soul of the hive; and without her there is no hope, no courage, no activity. The populace, abandoned to itself, falls into anarchy. Famine, pillage, ruin, and death are at its doors. Having no progeny to set their hopes on, the bees live from one day to another without a care for the morrow. They leave off working, and live entirely on theft and rapine, and ai last they disappear entirely. It is a society become rotten and broken up for the want of a moral tie.

If the loss of the mother bee takes place at a period at which there still exist in the hive some larvae of working bees of less than three days old, the nurses (as we have already said) adopt some oi these larvae, and make them into queens by means of the physical education and special nourishment which they give them. In this case, then, the evil can be repaired; the workers themselves find a remedy without assistance. But if the hive possesses a degenerate queen, which only lays male eggs, the intervention of man is necessary to save it, by the substitution of a properly impregnated queen. If, indeed, a strange queen wished to penetrate alone into a hive already containing a sovereign, she would infallibly be stopped at the door and stifled by the sentinels who guard the entrance to the hive. These would surround her immediately, and keep her captive under them till she perished, either through suffocation or hunger. They do not employ their stings against an intruding queen, except in the case of an attempt being made to deliver her from their clutches: they get rid of her by stifling.

When it is wished to introduce into a hive a stranger queen, after having removed the original sovereign, many precautions must be used before putting her into the common home. It is only after some time that the bees become aware of the disappearance of their queen; but they then manifest great emotion. They run hither and thither, as though mad, leaving off their work, and making a peculiar buzzing sound. If you return to them their original sovereign, they recognise her, and calm is immediately restored; but the substitution of a new queen for the original sovereign does not produce the same effect in every case. If you introduce the new queen half a day only after the removal of the old queen, she is very badly received, and is at once surrounded, the worKcrs trying to suffocate her. Generally she sinks under this bad treatment. But if you allow a longer interval to elapse before you introduce the substitute, the bees, rendered more tractable by the delay, are better disposed towards her. If you allow an interregnum of twenty-four hours, the stranger queen is always received with the honours due to her rank, a general buzzing announcing the event to the whole population of the hive. They assign to their adopted queen a train of picked attendants; they draw up in line on her passing by; they caress her with the tips oi their antennae; they offer her honey. A little joyful fluttering of the escort announces that every one in the little republic is satisfied. The labours out of doors and indoors then begin anew with more activity than ever. It is principally during stormy days, when the heat and the

electricity in the air are favourable to the secretion of pollen in plants, that the bees go into the fields to make their harvest. They heap up provisions in the hive against the cold season, not forgetting, however, to watch over the eggs, their future hope, " spem gentis,'' as Virgil calls them. These peaceful occupations are sometimes interrupted by the dire necessities of war. It happens that the bees of an impoverished hive, jimpelled by hunger, that bad counsellor, make up their mind to attack and to pillage the treasures of a neighbouring hive which is abundantly stocked with provisions. A savage fight then takes place between the two battalions. Each one precipitates itself with fury upon its adversary. Two bees press against and bite each other till one is overcome. The victor springs upon the back of the vanquished, squeezes it round the neck with its mandibles, and pierces it between the rings of its abdomen with its sting. The victorious bee places itself by the side of its fallen enemy, and resting on four 0f its legs, rubs its two hind ones together proudly, as a sign of supreme triumph. Reaumur relates a strange fact, which he says he often observed, and which proves that the insects we are treatmg of do not fight to satisfy a sanguinary and savage instinct, but (which is less reprehensible) to satisfy their hunger. Bees attacked by a superior force are in no danger of losing their lives if their enemies can induce them to give up their throats — that expression conveys the idea. Supposing three or four are furiously attacking one bee: they are pulling it by its legs and biting it on its thorax. The unfortunate object of this attack has then nothing better to do, to escape alive from such a perilous situation, than to stretch out its trunk laden with sweet-scented honey. The plunderers will come one after the other and drink the honey; then, cloyed, satisfied, having nothing more to demand, they go their way, leaving the bee to return to his dwelling-place.

There are also strange fights — regular duels — between the bees of the same hive. Very hot weather has the effect of irritating them, and making them boil over with rage. They are then dangerous to man, whom they attack boldly. But more often it is amongst themselves that they quarrel. One often sees two bees which meet seize each other by the neck in the air. It happens also that a bee, in a state of fury, throws itself on another who is walking quietly and unsuspiciously along the edge of its hive. When two bees are struggling in this manner they descend to the ground, for in the air they would not be able to get purchase enough to be sure of striking each other. They then engage in a hand-to-hand fight, as the

gladiators used formerly to do in the circus. They are continually making stabs with their stings, but almost always the point slips over the scales with which they are covered. The combat is sometimes prolonged during an hour, before one of them has found the weak point in the other's natural cuirass, and has buried its terrible weapon in the flesh. The victor often leaves its sting in the wound which it has made, and then dies, in its moment of triumph, through the loss of this organ. Sometimes the two combatants, in spite of long and savage assaults, cannot succeed in injuring cither's solid armour. In such a case they leave each other, tired of war, and fly away, despairing of obtaining a victory.

At the end of autumn, when the bees no longer find any flowers in the fields to plunder, they finish rearing their eggs on the pollen, which they keep in store, and the queen ceases to lay. Numbed by the cold of the winter, the workers cease to go out. Crowded, together they mutually warm each other, and thus hold out, when the cold is not too intense, against the rigour of the frosts. Huddled up between the cakes of the honeycomb, they wait for the return of fine weather, to re-commence their labours at home and abroad. After two or three years of this laborious existence the bee dies, but to live again in a numerous posterity, as Virgil says:—

*' At genus immortale manet, multosque per annos Stat fortuna domus, et avi numerantur avorum! "

There has been a good deal of discussion on the question whether A bees constitute monarchies or republics. According to our opinion, theirs is a true republic. As all the population is the issue of a common mother, and as each bee of the female sex can become a queen — that is to say, a mother-bee, if it receives an appropriate nourishment — it is manifest that the title of queen has been wrongly given to the mother-bee. After all, she is nothing more than president of a republic. The vice-presidents, as we have already pointed out, are all those females which at any given moment may be called ^ by choice — that is, by popular election — to fulfil the functions of the sovereign, when death or accident has put an end to her existence.

" There is no such thing as a king in Nature," said Daubenton one yday, in one of his lectures at the Jardin des Plantes. The audience immediately applauded, and cried "Bravo!" The honest savant stopped, quite disconcerted, and asked his assistant naturalist the cause of this applause, perhaps ironical. " I must have said something stupid," repeated poor Daubenton between his teeth, remem-bering the saying of Phocion under similar circumstances. " No,"

replied his assistant viaturalist, " you have said nothing but what is quite true; but, without meaning it, you have made a poUtical alkision. You spoke against kings, and our young repubUcans thought that you were alkiding to Louis XVI." " Indeed," said the coadjutor of Buffon, "I had no idea that I was talking poHtics!" The bee repubUc, this little animal society, is admirably constituted, and all its citizens obey its laws with docility.

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