The sheath, with the barbs, sometimes sticks so fast in the wound, that the animal is obliged to leave it behind; in consequence of which, the bee soon after dies, and the wound is considerably inflamed. It might at first appear well for mankind, if the bee were without its sting; but upon recollection it will be found that the little animal would then have too many rivals in sharing its labors. A hundred other lazy animals, fond of honey, and hating labor, would intrude upon the sweets of the hive; and the treasure would be carried off for want of armed guardians to protect it. As the bee lays up a most delicious store, it was obviously necessary that it should have some extraordinary defence, and so the sting was provided. Is it not easy to see wisdom in this provision of nature?
The most interesting point of view in which we can regard bees, is not as separate individuals, but as societies or communities. In this light, they indeed astonish us. It being necessary that their hives should be tight, the first thing is to stop up all the crevices, which they do with a kind of resinous gum, which resists the weather.
They then proceed to form their cells, which we call honey-comb. These are built in hexagons, or six-sided figures; and mathematicians tell us that this form is the very best, as it unites the greatest strength with the greatest capacity. The philosophers found out this fact by deep study—but who told the little bees of it? They never went to college to learn mathematics. How then should they always build their cells in hexagons?
This was one of the questions put by Jack to his aunt Piper, and she answered it as follows. Bees are provided with wonderful knowledge, which we call instinct. It is born with them, and as soon as they go to work, they proceed according to this instinct. This is a part of their nature, and it is given to them by God who made them. He knows everything—he knows that a hexagon is the best form for the bees to build their cells in, and so he furnished them with an instinct, which leads them to follow this method of building. Is it not interesting to see the Almighty God thus displaying his knowledge and skill, for the benefit of even the little bees?
I have more to tell you on this subject, but I must defer it for [another chapter].
The Race.
Here are two boys running a race. They seem to be striving to see which can run the swiftest; which can outstrip the other.
It is pleasant to run a race, if one is young and has a good pair of legs. I should make a bad business of it,—old and decrepit as I am,—and having a timber toe beside. Still, I can well recollect how I used to delight in trying my speed with my youthful companions, when I was a boy.