same means. This agreement between his observations and our own gave me great pleasure, for it proved to me that I could entirely rely on the eyes of my scholar."
From this passage it will be observed that Huber thought this accordance with Reaumur a signal proof of correctness; and does it not lead us also to the conclusion that compilers have been somewhat too hasty in assigning so exclusively to the former the attributes of a bee-historian? It is impossible to turn to the pages of Reaumur without finding abundant proof of the care, accuracy and completeness of his observations. How interesting is that passage where he relates how and when for the first time in his life he saw a queen! How truly we sympathize with his feelings of disappointment when he found her unattended! And how heartily do we participate in his gratification when at last twelve or fifteen bees ranged themselves around her, to form her guard of honour! He tells us that a large party were at his house, to whom he had related the mysteries of the hive, and that they were all on the tiptoe of expectation to see the renowned sovereign. But let us turn to Mr. Cotton, and with him take a peep into one of his own hives.
"I myself saw what I am going to tell you. This and the two next stories will, I hope, prove my right to belong to the family of Eyes, though, without strong glasses, I am nearly as Mind as poor Huber was. I have a hive called the Observatory Hive (because in it I can observe or watch all the Bees do),—as Huber would say, mark all their manoeuvres; it is made of two plates of glass placed in a frame, just one inch and five eighths in the clear; this gives them room to build one comb and no more, so I can see every Bee at work, and not even the Queen herself can long hide from me. I put a swarm in, and they built a comb, which, by a sudden jerk, was broken off from the top. I knew the Bees were not strong enough to lift it up into its place, so I was curious to see what they would do, and I watched them narrowly. They first held the broken piece of comb in its place, just as Huber saw their first cousins the Humble Bees do; they next made wax, and fixed the broken comb firmly in its place; they then went on to saw off, with their sharp and strong jaws, just enough of the comb which pressed against the glass, to let themselves pass. One poor Bee had got pressed between the plate of glass and the comb; they very kindly began to saw away the comb in that place which set the poor Bee soonest at liberty; they might have begun any where else, but instinctive kindness led them to begin where they did. This they did more evenly than I could have done for them, the size of their bodies being the rule by which they worked. A razor could not have cut sharper. Last of all, they lengthened the cells on the other side, so that the whole comb was the same thickness as before, though made of long cells on one side, and short on the other.
"Another time I saw a Bee in the same fix, for he had slipped down with his feet to the glass, and his back towards the comb, so that he could not get a firm hold, to exert that power which was needful to set him free. Another Bee saw his hard case, and went straightway to succour him, laid hold of his hind legs with his jaws—tenderly, no doubt; but I am sorry to say, he did not stand by him till he got free.
