Cleanliness of Bees.

Among other virtues possessed by bees, cleanliness is one of the most marked; they will not suffer the least filth in their abode.  It sometimes happens that an ill-advised slug or ignorant snail chooses to enter the hive, and has even the audacity to walk over the comb; the presumptuous and foul intruder is quickly killed, but its gigantic carcass is not so speedily removed.  Unable to transport the corpse out of their dwelling, and fearing “the noxious smells” arising from corruption, the bees adopt an efficacious mode of protecting themselves; they embalm their offensive enemy, by covering him over with propolis; both Maraldi and Reaumur have seen this.  The latter observed that a snail had entered a hive, and fixed itself to the glass side, just as it does against walls, until the rain shall invite it to thrust out its head beyond its shell.  The bees, it seemed, did not like the interloper, and not being able to penetrate the shell with their sting, took a hint from the snail itself, and instead of covering it all over with propolis, the cunning economists fixed it immovably, by cementing merely the edge of the orifice of the shell to the glass with this resin, and thus it became a prisoner for life, for rain cannot dissolve this cement, as it does that which the insect itself uses.[5]—­Ibid.

    [5] For a notice of the application of this cement to useful
        purposes, see No. 396, page 283.—­ED. MIRROR.

It furnishes a subject of serious consideration, as well as an argument for a special providence, to know, that the accurate Reaumur, and other naturalists, have observed, that when any kind of insect has increased inordinately, their natural enemies have increased in the same proportion, and thus preserved the balance.—­Ibid.

Gnats.

There are few insects with whose form we are better acquainted than that of the gnat.  It is to be found in all latitudes and climates; as prolific in the Polar as in the Equatorial regions.  In 1736 they were so numerous, and were seen to rise in such clouds from Salisbury cathedral, that they looked like columns of smoke, and frightened the people, who thought the building was on fire.  In 1766, they appeared at Oxford, in the form of a thick black cloud; six columns were observed to ascend the height of fifty or sixty feet.  Their bite was attended with alarming inflammation.  To some appearances of this kind our great poet, Spenser, alludes, in the following beautiful simile:—­

  As when a swarm of gnats at eventide,
  Out of the fennes of Allan doe arise,
  Their murmurring small trumpets sownden wide,
  Whiles in the air their clust’ring army flies. 
  That as a cloud doth seem to dim the skies: 
  Ne man nor beast may rest or take repast,
  For their sharp wounds and noyous injuries,
  Till the fierce northern wind, with blustering blast,
  Doth blow them quite away, and in the ocean cast.