VENTILATION.

To ascertain the degree of heat in a colony of Bees, and to regulate it by means of ventilation, as circumstances may require, recourse must be had to the use of the thermometer, as will be explained presently. But here I would ask my worthy Bee-keepers, whether, in the course of their experience, they have at any time beheld a honey-comb suspended beneath the pedestal of any of their hives—a circumstance that not unfrequently occurs under old stools? The beautiful appearance of a comb suspended in such a situation is, as it were, the very finger of Providence, pointing out the effects of ventilation, and teaching us by an example the necessity there is for it in a crowded, busy hive. Behold the purity of such a comb; examine the cause of that purity, and you will find that it is owing—solely and undoubtedly owing—to the powerful influence of VENTILATION.

An occurrence of this description, I mean—the discovery of a beautiful comb suspended, as just described, having excited my curiosity and my admiration, led me to inquire into the cause of it, and to study to discover, if by any means I could, why my skilful, little Bees should have constructed their combs in such a situation. My observations soon satisfied me that one of these two causes, viz. either a want of room in the hive,—or a disagreeable and oppressive heat in it,—or most probably, a combination of these two causes, had rendered it necessary for them, if they continued working at all, to carry on their work in that singular manner. My next step was to endeavour to prove the truth of my reasonings and conclusions, in which, I flatter myself, I have fully succeeded, after no inconsiderable labour, and many contrivances to accommodate the Bees with additional room, as they have had occasion for it, and after repeated experiments to keep such room, when added, at a temperature agreeable to them by means of ventilation. In short, my COLLATERAL-BOXES and VENTILATION are the results of my studies and experiments on this point of apiarian science.

There are few persons, who are managers of Honey-Bees under the old hive system, who, if they have not seen a comb constructed and suspended in the manner just described, have not, however, beheld these little creatures, when oppressed with the internal heat of their crowded domicil, and straitened for want of room in it, unhappily clustering and hanging at the door, or from and under the floor-board of their hive, in a ball frequently as large as a man's head, and sometimes covering all the front part of it, for sixteen or twenty days together; and this, be it remarked, at the season of the year which is the most profitable for their labours in the fields and among the flowers. During this distress of the Bees in, or belonging to, such a hive, their labours are of necessity suspended,—their gathering of honey ceases,—ceases too at the very time that that saccharine substance is most plentifully secreted by the vegetable world. And—-why? Because they want an enlargement of their domicil,—an extension of the dominion, or (if it may be so termed) of the territory of the Queen; by which enlargement swarming is superseded, and the Royal Insect relieved from the necessity of abdicating her throne, retains it, continues and extends the propagation of her species, and of course increases the busy labours of her innumerable subjects. This accommodation is provided for Bees in my collateral-boxes.

Ancient as well as modern Bee-keepers have frequently adopted the plan of eking, that is—placing three or four rounds of a straw-hive (called an eke) under their hives. This method of enlarging a hive does in many instances prevent swarming during that one season. Notwithstanding, from all that I can see in it, it tends only to put off the evil day, and to accumulate greater numbers of Bees for destruction the following year. This is certain, because on minute examination of the pavilion of nature, we find an increase of wealth, as well as an increase of numbers in the state; but there is no provision or contrivance in the common hive for dividing the wealthy produce of the labours of those numbers: eking will not do it,—eking enlarges the hive, and that is all it does; consequently to get at their honey, the necessity for destroying the Bees follows, and the suffocating fumes of brimstone at length bring these worthies to the ground—to the deadly pit in which they are first suffocated, then buried, and are, alas, no more! a few minutes close the existence of thousands that had laboured for their ungrateful masters; and their once happy domicil becomes a scene of murder, of plunder, and of devastation, which is a disgrace to Bee-masters, and ought by all means to be discountenanced and discontinued. Assuredly Bees are given to us by the gracious Giver of all good things for a better purpose than that of being destroyed by thousands and by millions. Are we not instructed by the sacred writings to go to the Bee and to the ant, and learn wisdom? We are not told, neither are we warranted, by this language, to go and destroy them and their works,—-to disobey the commands of their, no less than of our Maker, who has given Bees to us for our edification and comfort, and not wantonly to commit a species of murder, in order to procure their delicious treasure. Nor is there the slightest necessity for destroying Bees in this cruel manner, when an act of humanity will obtain for us their purest honey, and secure to us their lives for future and profitable labour. Surely, then, an act of humanity to Bees cannot be displeasing to any one, especially when we are taught by the beneficial results of our experience, that their lives may be preserved, and their labours for us thereby continued.

Apiarian reader, take this subject into thy serious consideration: in the busy hive behold the curious works of God's creatures—the Bees; misuse riot, then, the works of his hands; but improve upon this lesson from nature: and for a moment pause before thou lightest the deadly match,—before thou appliest it with murderous intent to the congregated thousands in thy hive.

These insects' indefatigable labours alone should humanize our feelings for them, and induce us to spare their lives, for the rich treasures which they first collect, and then unresistingly yield up to us when operated upon by the healthy influence of ventilation.

Why should we lay the axe to the root of the tree that produces such good fruit? Rather let us gather from its pure branches, and let the root live. Examine the nature and effects of my Bee-machinery, and you will discover its utility and its value in the management of Bees. By the proper application of that machinery you may instantaneously divide the treasures of the Bees, even in the most vigorous part of their gathering season, without the least danger to the operator, and frequently without the destruction of a single Bee. Is not this, then, a rational and humane practice? I trust it wants only to be properly understood in order to be universally adopted.

Again: Does not she that is a kind mother know the wants and desires of her children? Take the lovely offspring from its mother's care and protection, and imprison it before her eyes, and will she not impatiently cry aloud for its release and restoration to liberty? and will not the child's screams show its affection for its fond parent? and when its liberty is restored, does not consolation quickly follow? The lost child being once more under its mother's care, both mother and child are happy. Similar facts are exemplified by the mother of the hive, who loves her multitudinous offspring, and lives in harmony and affection with them. She evidently dislikes a separation from her subjects, who seem to be, and doubtless are, most devotedly attached to her. And when, on taking off a glass or a box, they are divided only for a few minutes, we witness their sorrow, and hear their lamentations in the hive,—the Queen-mother calling for her children, anxious on their part to be released; and as soon as an opportunity is afforded them of effecting their escape, they embrace it,—the moment they feel their liberty, they gladly take advantage of it, and return to the pavilion in multitudes, so that in a short time tranquillity is restored, and peace and happiness are again enjoyed by the previously unhappy mother of the hive,—her subjects crowd round her, and the place that had lately been their prison soon becomes their palace, and a magazine for future treasure, which the humane apiarian will again be entitled to.

Much has been said on the piling or storifying mode of managing Bees; and I admit that there are advantages in it which we do not meet with in the cottage-hive system. It is, notwithstanding, imperfect in the design,—it is founded in error,—in practice it is liable to many difficulties,—and it is particularly disadvantageous to the labours of these valuable insects, as will be more fully shown when I come to state my objections to it.

We have only to study the nature and habits of Bees, and to watch particularly the desires of these indefatigable creatures. They alone will teach us the lesson. But follow them through their movements during a summer's day, and you will behold them, as it were, pitifully asking for the assistance of man, according to the varying state of the thermometer.