Hence we may safely conclude that, if we could slightly modify the instincts already possessed by the Melipona, and in themselves not very wonderful, this bee would make a structure as wonderfully perfect as that of the hive-bee. We must suppose the Melipona to have the power of forming her cells truly spherical, and of equal sizes; and this would not be very surprising, seeing that she already does so to a certain extent, and seeing what perfectly cylindrical burrows many insects make in wood, apparently by turning round on a fixed point. We must suppose the Melipona to arrange her cells in level layers, as she already does her cylindrical cells; and we must further suppose—and this is the greatest difficulty—that she can somehow judge accurately at what distance to stand from her fellow-labourers when several are making their spheres; but she is already so far able to judge of distance that she always describes her spheres so as to intersect to a certain extent; and then she unites the points of intersection by perfectly flat surfaces. By such modifications of instinct, which in themselves are not very wonderful—hardly more wonderful than those which guide a bird to make its nest,—I believe that the hive-bee has acquired through natural selection her inimitable architectural powers.[60]

Mr. Darwin next tested this theory by the experiment of introducing into beehives plates of wax, and observing that the bees worked upon these plates just as the theory required. That is to say, they made their cells by excavating a number of little circular pits at equal distances from one another, so that by the time the pits had acquired the width of an ordinary cell, the sides of the pits intersected. As soon as this occurred the bees ceased to excavate, and instead began to build up flat walls of wax on the lines of intersection. Other experiments with very thin plates of vermilion-coloured wax showed that the bees all worked at about the same rate, and on opposite sides of the plates, so that the common bottoms of any two opposite pits were flat. These flat bottoms 'were situated, as far as the eye could judge, exactly along the planes of imaginary intersection between the basins on the opposite sides of the ridge of wax;' so that if the plate of wax had been thick enough to admit of the opposite basins being deepened (and widened) into cells, the mutual intersection of adjacent as well as opposite bottoms would have given rise, as in the first experiment with the thick plate of wax, to the pyramidal bottoms. Experiments with the vermilion wax also showed, as Huber had previously stated, that a number of individual bees work by turns at the same cell; for by covering parts of growing cells with vermilion wax, Mr. Darwin—

Invariably found that the colour was most delicately diffused by the bees—as delicately as a painter could have done it with his brush—by atoms of the coloured wax having been taken from the spot on which it had been placed, and worked into the growing edges of the cells all round.

Such, omitting details, is the substance of Mr. Darwin's theory. In summary he concludes,—

The work of construction seems to be a sort of balance struck between many bees, all instinctively standing at the same relative distance from each other, all trying to sweep equal spheres, and then building up, or leaving ungnawed, the planes of intersection between these spheres.

This theory, while serving as a full and simple explanation of all the facts, has, as we have seen, been so fully substantiated by observation and experiment, that it deserves to be regarded as raised to the rank of a completed demonstration. It differs from the theory of Buffon in two important particulars: it embraces all the facts, and supplies a cause adequate to explain them. This cause is natural selection, which converts the random 'pressure' in Buffon's theory into a precisely regulated principle. Random pressure alone could never produce the beautifully symmetrical form of the hexagonal cell with the pyramidal bottom; but it could and must have produced the intersection of cylindrical cells among possibly many extinct species of bees, such as the Melipona. Whenever this intersection occurred in crowded nests, it must clearly have been of great benefit in securing economy of precious wax; for in every case where a flat wall of partition between two adjacent cells did duty instead of a double cylindrical wall of separate cells, there wax should have been saved. Thus we can see how natural selection would have worked towards the developing of an instinct to excavate cells near enough together to produce intersection; and once begun, there is no reason why this instinct should not have been perfected by the same agency, till we meet with its ideal perfection in the hive-bee. For as Mr. Darwin observes,—

With respect to the formation of wax, it is known that bees are often hard pressed to get sufficient nectar; and I am informed by Mr. Tegetmeier that it has been experimentally proved that from twelve to fifteen pounds of dry sugar are consumed by a hive of bees for the secretion of a pound of wax; so that a prodigious quantity of fluid nectar must be collected and consumed by the bees in a hive for the secretion of the wax necessary for the construction of their combs. Moreover, many bees have to remain idle for many days during the process of secretion. . . . . Hence it would continually be more and more advantageous to our humble-bees if they were to make their cells more and more regular, nearer together, and aggregated into a mass, like the cells of Melipona; for in this case a large part of the bounding surface of each cell would serve to bound the adjoining cell, and much labour and wax would be saved. Again, from the same cause, it would be advantageous to the Melipona if she were to make her cells closer together, and more regular in every way than at present; for then, as we have seen, the spherical surfaces would wholly disappear and be replaced by plane surfaces; and the Melipona would make a comb as perfect as that of the hive-bee. 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 economising labour and wax.

The problem, then, as to the origin and perfection of the cell-making instinct appears thus to have been fully and finally solved. I shall now adduce a few facts to show that while the general instinct of building hexagonal cells has doubtless been acquired by natural selection in the way just explained, it is nevertheless an instinct not wholly of a blind or mechanical kind, but is constantly under the control of intelligent purpose. Thus Mr. Darwin observes,

It was really curious to note in cases of difficulty, as when two pieces of comb met at an angle, how often the bees would pull down and rebuild in different ways the same cell, sometimes recurring to a shape which they had at first rejected.[61]

Again, Huber saw a bee building upon the wax which had already been put together by her comrades. But she did not arrange it properly, or in a way to continue the design of her predecessors, so that her building made an undesirable corner with theirs. 'Another bee perceived it, pulled down the bad work before our eyes, and gave it to the first in the requisite order, so that it might exactly follow the original direction.' Similarly, to quote Büchner,—