588 INSTINCT OF INSECTS. 



one faculty (though, to avoid circumlocution, I have ftiyself often employed 

 this common mode of expression), or say that one insect has a greater or 

 less share of instinct than another, but more or fewer instincts. That it 

 is not always easy to determine what actions are to be referred to a distinct 

 instinct and what to a modification of an instinct, I am very ready to 

 admit ; but this is no solid ground for regarding all instincts as modifications 

 of some one principle. It is often equally difficult to ^\y^ the limits between 

 instinct and reason ; but we are not on this account justified in deeming 

 them the same. 



This multitude of instincts in the same individual becomes more won- 

 derful when considered in another point of view\ Were they constantly 

 to follow each other in regular sequence, so that each bee necessarily 

 first began to build cells, then to collect honey, next pollen, and so on, we 

 might plausibly enough refer them to some change in the sensations of the 

 animal, caused by alterations in the structure and gradual development of 

 its organs, in the same way as on similar principles we explain the sexual 

 instincts of the superior tribes. But it is certain that no such consecutive 

 series prevails. The different instincts of the bee are called into action 

 in an order regulated solely by the needs of the society. If combs be 

 wanted, no bee collects honey for storing until they are provided^ ; and 

 if, when constructed, any accident injure or destroy them, every labor is 

 suspended until the mischief is repaired or new ones substituted.^ When 

 the crevices round the hive are effectually secured with propolis, the 

 instinct directing the collection of this substance lies dormant ; but transfer 

 the bees to a new hive which shall require a new luting, and it is instantly 

 re-excited. But these instances are superfluous. Every one knows that at 

 the same moment of time the citizens of a hive are employed in the most 

 varied aud opposite operations. Some are collecting pollen ; others are 

 in search of honey ; some busied at home in the first construction of the 

 cells ; others in giving them their last polish ; others in ventilating the 

 hive ; others again in feeding the young brood and the like. 



Now, how are we to account for this regularity of procedure — this 

 undeviating accuracy with which the precise instinct wanted is excited — 

 this total absence of all confusion in the employment, by each inhabitant 

 of the hive, of that particular instinct out of so many which the good of 

 the community requires ? No thinking man ever witnesses the complex- 

 ness and yet regularity and efficiency of a great establishment, such as the 

 Bank of England or the Post Office, without marveling that even human 

 reason can put together, with so little friction and such slight deviations 

 from correctness, machines whose wheels are composed not of wood and 

 iron, but of fickle mortals of a thousand different inclinations, powers, and 

 capacities. But if such establishments be surprising even with reason for 

 their prime mover, how much more so is a hive of bees whose proceedings 

 are guided by their instincts alone ! We can conceive that the sensations 

 of hunger experienced on awaking in the morning should excite into action 

 their instinct of gatliering honey. But all are hungry ; yet all do not rush 

 out in search of flowers. What sensation is it that detains a portion of 

 the hive at home, unmindful of the gnawings of an empty stomach, busied 

 in domestic arrangements, until the return of their roving companions? 



» Huber, ii. 64. » Ibid. ii. 138. 



