to its present condition, as the African negro has of taking precedence of European intellect.

But we must return awhile to the details of the architecture of the hive-bee. We have seen that geometricians of repute have been consulted on a problem of intersecting spheres producing hexagons at the intersection, &c.; and we have, also, seen how that problem was stated, so as to be applicable to an imaginary state of things, having no real existence, and to be found only in the surmises and suppositions of the Theory. This is not the first time that the bees have had this compliment paid them, that their architecture has been tested by the rules of geometry, and examined by the ablest mathematicians of the day. The result has always been, that geometry has confirmed the calculations on which their architecture has been executed, to whatever quarter those calculations have been traced. But in this case Mr Darwin seems, unwittingly, to pay them a higher compliment than usual, for he either supposes that the bees intend to make hexagons by striking imaginary intersecting circles, or that the hexagon is produced by that exercise of their imagination. It suffices,' says he, that bees should be enabled to stand at the proper relative distances, and form the walls of the last completed cells, and then by striking imaginary spheres,' &c. (253). We have also seen that they are somehow to know the proper distance,' and all the rest will follow.

Now to us it appears, that if carpenters or bricklayers were about to construct hexagonal chambers, and were for that purpose to go into the dark and strike imaginary spheres, at the proper distances, which they were somehow to ascertain without measuring, they would be a very curi

ous race of Laputan builders, acting on abstract principles to begin with, and still more marvellous if their unusual plan should turn out successful.

If Mr Darwin should urge, that the hexagon is not an intention but a result, that the intention is the circle, and the accidental production a hexagon, then the bee imagines the circles, which it never really sweeps, knows when to stop where an imaginary circle meets an imaginary circle, and builds its walls on the points of contact of two or more dreams.

But let the case be put still more clearly. The bees work in ignorance of what they are doing; at least, Mr Darwin says so; at any rate, they do not understand geometry, in this we should all agree. But philosophers, men of science, are adepts in geometry, and by algebraic calculations can make great discoveries. To test, therefore, the value of the comprehensive 'SOMEHOW' of this supposition, let us suppose that six scientific Transmutationists are locked up in a room perfectly dark; to each is to be given a piece of chalk, and they are to arrange themselves as they like by striking imaginary (not real) circles in order to draw a superficial hexagon on the floor. As soon as they are satisfied with their exploit, the figure they have drawn is to be sent to Professor Miller, of Cambridge, who will measure the angles and report thereon. What sort of a figure should we have by the joint-labours of the six learned gentlemen? Who will venture to describe its exquisite and accurate proportions ?

Though this is but a partial illustration of the work of the bees, which with them is much more than a superficial hexagon, it may serve to show the value of this part of the theory.

We might here inquire if Mr Darwin is disposed to extend this explanation of the hexagonal architecture to the wasps also, for with them there is no Mellipona Mexicana to suggest a transition of architectural skill: neither would the Cambridge problem apply to their case, as their cells are in simple rows, and not placed base to base as with the bees. The wasps, however, construct accurate hexagons for their cells, and of another material: do they also sweep imaginary circles, and build up the planes of intersection of their dreams?

It would be extending this discussion to an unreasonable length, to enter into a full explanation of the real mode of operation observed by the bees in constructing their cells. This is to be seen in Reaumer, Huber, and Kirby and Spence. We may generally state that the bees begin their labours of cell-making by forming the bases of the cells first, and that when a pyramidal base of three lozenges is finished, they then build up the walls from its edges. This shows their intention-they know what they have to do before they begin; but how they know, and how they construct the bases according to the proper angles, will never be explained. They accomplish the work, and we must be content with the fact.

In particular circumstances, however, they are able to diversify the work according to the need, and the bees then introduce such variations of the general rule as the case seems to demand. Thus the first rows of cells of the comb, affixed to the top of the hives, are made, not as hexagons, but in the form of a pentagon, and for this there is a good reason. This we learn from Huber. It is evident,' says he, that the hexagonal figure of cells admits of this application by only one angle to the surface of the roof,

where many are ranged laterally, but there must be large vacuities between the angles. But a more solid fixture becomes the marked solicitation of nature in the formation of the combs. The first row of cells, that by which the whole comb is attached to the roof of the hive, differs from all the rest, instead of hexagon, the orifice is a pentagon. The cell consists of four sides, with the roof of the hive in the plane of the fifth. The bottom, also, is different from that of common cells; only one of these pieces is a lozenge, the other two is of an irregular quadrilateral figure. By the simple dispositions preserved here, the stability of the comb is completely secured, for it touches the interior surface of support in the hive in the greatest possible number of points.'

Here, then, there is no ideal intersection of spheres ; the pentagon dissipates all that vision, and it is clear that the bees intend to introduce the hexagon, as soon as, in their judgment, they can do so with safety. We need only to inspect a large comb to see how the theory of imaginary circles is confuted, by the management of the cells in case of any obstruction to the work, or even in the introduction of the larger cells of the drones. Cells with larger dimensions for the drones have to be worked into the general plan, and this is done by gradual change of the dimensions of the neighbouring cells, till at last the symmetrical measurement of the general design is perfectly restored.

In cases of obstruction by intervening obstacles, sometimes placed to test their skill, they find themselves compelled to alter the hexagonal regularity in order to work round the obstacle, hence some of the cells are of irregular form, but always returning by gradations to the regular symmetry and correct shape of the normal design.

This again is proof of their object, to adhere to the correct hexagonal pattern and the rhomboidal base. The plan is imprinted in their minds, so to speak; the pattern is in mysterious vision before them, and they build according to the plan they have received, by a necessity of their nature.

This is their instinct, and it is as admirable as it is inexplicable.

These remarks should not be closed without noticing that though Mr Darwin makes the bees execute a very hard problem, and for a direct purpose, to secure the greatest economy of wax, he neither allows this to be the result of an instinct, nor will he permit it to be a design or intention of the bees themselves. In what quarter then is the motive or the calculation? It is, as usual, with the great Pan, Natural Selection, the true Antitheos of the author's system. The bees, of course, no more know that they swept their spheres (imaginary, be it observed) at one particular distance from each other, than they know what are the several angles of the hexagonal prisms and of the basal rhombic plates. The motive-power of the process of Natural Selection (sequence of events) having been economy of wax, together with cells of due strength, and of the proper size and shape for the larvæ; that individual swarm which made the best cells, and wasted least honey in the secretion of wax, having succeeded best, and having transmitted by inheritance their newly-acquired econonomical instincts to new swarms, these in their turn will have had the best chance of succeeding in the struggle for existence.

'Beyond this stage of perfection in architecture, Natural Selection could not lead; for the comb of the hive-bee, as far as we can see, is absolutely perfect in economizing wax'