It is well known, that after the season of swarming, a general massacre of the drones is commenced. Several authors assert, in their writings, that the workers do not sting the drones to death, but merely harass them till they are banished from the hive and perish. M. Huber contrived a glass table, on which he placed several hives, and he was thus able to see distinctly what passed at the bottom of the hive, which is generally dark and concealed : he witnessed a real and furious massacre of the males, the workers thrusting their stings so deep into the bodies of the defenceless drones, that they were obliged to turn on themselves as on a pivot, before they could extricate them. The work of death commenced in all the hives much about the same time. It is not, however, by a blind or indiseriminating instinct, that the workers are impelled thus to sacrifice the males; for if a hive be deprived of its queen, no massacre of the males takes place in it, while the hottest persecution rages in all the surrounding hives. In this case, the males are allowed to survive the winter. Mr. Bon-ner had observed this fact; he supposed, however, that the workers thus tolerated the drones for the sake of the additional heat they generated in the hive; but we now see the true reason to be, that without them the new queen would not be fruitful. The drones are also suffered to exist in hives that possess fertile workers, but no proper queen; and, what is remarkable, they are likewise spared in hives governed by a queen whose fecundity has been retarded. Here, then, we perceive a counter-instinct opposed to that which would have impelled them to the usual massacre.

Upon the subject of swarming, M. Huber commences with an interesting account of the hatching of the queen bee. When the pupa is about to change into the perfect insect, the bees render the cover of the cell thinner, by gnawing away part of the wax; and with so much nicety do they perform this operation, that the cover at last becomes pellucid, owing to its extreme thinness. This must not only facilitate the exit of the fly, but, M. Huber remarks, it may possibly be useful in permitting the evaporation of the superabundant fluids of the nymph. After the transformation is complete, the young queens would, in common course, immediately emerge from their cells, as workers and drones do; but the bees always keep them prisoners for some days in their cells, supplying them in the mean time with honey for food; a small hole being made in the door of each cell, through which the confined bee extends its proboscis to receive it The royal prisoners continually utter a kind of song, the modulations of which are said to vary. The final cause of this temporary imprisonment, it is suggested, may possibly be, that they may be able to take flight at the instant they are liberated. When a young queen at last gets out, she meets with rather an awkward reception; she is pulled, bitten, and chased, as often as she happens to approach the other royal cells in the hive. The purpose of nature here seems to be, that she should be impelled to go off with a swarm as soon as possible. A curious fact was observed on these occasions: when the queen found herself much harassed, she had only to utter a peculiar noise, (the commanding voice, we may presume, of sovereignty,) and all the bees were instantaneously constrained to submission and obedience. This is, indeed, one of the most marked instances in which the queen exerts her sovereign power.

The conclusions at which M. Huber arrives on the subject of swarms are the following: First, "A swarm is always led off by a single queen, either the sovereign of the parent hive, or one recently brought into existence. If, at the return of spring, we examine a hive well peopled, and governed by a fertile queen, we shall see her lay a prodigious number of male eggs in the course of May, and the workers will choose that moment for constructing several royal cells. "This laying of male eggs in May, M. Huber calls the great laying; and he remarks, that no queen ever has a great laying till she be eleven months old. It is only after finishing this laying, that she is able to undertake the journey implied in leading a swarm; for, previously to this, "latum trahit alvum" which unfits her for flying. There appears to be a secret relation between the production of the male eggs, and the construction of royal cells. The great laying commonly lasts thirty days; and regularly, on the twentieth or twenty-first, several royal cells are founded.

Secondly, "When the larvae hatched from the eggs laid by the queen in the royal cells are ready to transform to nymphs, this queen leaves the hive, conducting a swarm along with her; and the first swarm that proceeds from the hive is uniformly conducted by the old queen." M. Huber remarks, that it was necessary that instinct should impel the old queen to lead forth the first swarm; for, that she being the strongest, would never have failed to have overthrown the younger competitors for the throne. An old queen, as has already been said, never quits a hive at the head of a swarm, till she has finished her laying of male eggs; but this is of importance, not merely that she may be lighter and fitter for flight, but that she may be ready to begin with the laying of workers' eggs in her new habitation, workers being the bees first needed, in order to secure the continuance and prosperity of the newly founded commonwealth.

Thirdly, "After the old queen has conducted the first swarm from the hive, the remaining bees take particular care of the royal cells, and prevent the young queens, successively hatched, from leaving them, unless at an interval of several days between each." Under this head he introduces a number of general remarks, some of which may prove useful. "A swarm (he observes) is never seen unless in a fine day, or, to speak more correctly, at a time of the day when the sun shines, and the air is calm. Sometimes we have observed all the precursors of swarming, disorder and agitation: but a cloud passed before the sun, and tranquillity was restored; the bees thought no more of swarming. An hour afterwards, the sun having again appeared, the tumult was renewed; it rapidly augmented, and the swarm departed." A certain degree of tumult commences as soon as the young queens are hatched, and begin to traverse the hive: the agitation soon pervades the whole bees; and such a ferment soon rages, that M. Hu-ber has often observed the thermometer in the hive to rise suddenly from about 92° to above 104°: this suffocating heat he considers as one of the means employed by nature for urging the bees to go off in swarms. In warm weather, one strong hive has been known to send off four swarms in eighteen days.

The cause of the bees, which has been so eloquently and pathetically pleaded by the Poet of the Seasons, is supported by M. Huber, on a principle more intelligible, perhaps, and more persuasive, to most country bee-masters, viz. interest. He deprecates the destruction of bees, and recommends to the cultivator to be content with a reasonable share of the wealth of the hive; arguing very justly, we believe, that a little taken from each of a number of hives, is ultimately much more profitable than a greater quantity obtained by a total destruction of a few.

We conclude our observations on this curious insect by two poetical quotations.

"Of all the race of animals, alone

The bees have common cities of their own. Mindful of coming cold, they share the pain, And hoard for winter's use the summer's gain. Some o'er the public magazines preside, And some are sent new forage to provide ; These drudge in fields abroad, and those at home Lay deep foundations for the labour'd comb ; To pitch the waxen flooring some contrive ; Some nurse the future nation of the hive. Their toil is common, common is their sleep ; They shake their wings when morn begins to peep: Rush through the city gates without delay, Nor ends their work but with declining day."

Churchill, after the following beautiful and picturesque description, introduces a sovereign, drawing from it. in a soliloquy, the most natural reflections on the momentous auties f his station.

,, ,, * *

Strength in her limbs, and on her wings dispatch.

The bee goes forth; from herb to herb she flies,

From flower to flow'r, and loads her lab'ring thighs

With treasur'd sweets, robbing those flow'rs, which left,

Find not themselves made poorer by the theft,

Their scents as lively, and their looks as fair.

As if the pillager had not been there.

Ne'er doth she flit on pleasure's silken wing,

Ne'er doth she loit'ring let the bloom of spring

Unrifled pass, and on the downy breast

Of some fair flow'r indulge untimely rest.

Ne'er doth she, drinking deep of those rich dews

Which chemist Night prepar'd, that faith abuse

Due to the hive, and, selfish in her toils,

To her own private use convert the spoils.

Love of the stock first call'd her forth to roam,

And to the stock she brings her honey home."