THE ANCIENTS AND THE HONEY-BEE 5 



when drinking, may have bridges to stand on, and 

 spread their wings to the summer sun." 



Virgil's method of hiving a swarm is almost 

 identical with that followed by old-fashioned bee- 

 men to this day. The hive is to be scoured with 

 crushed balm and honeywort, and then you are to 

 "make a tinkling round about, and clash the 

 cymbals of the Mother " — that is, of the goddess 

 Cybele. The bees will forthwith descend, he tells 

 us, and occupy the prepared nest. When the 

 honey-harvest is taken, you are first to sprinkle 

 your garments and cleanse your breath with pure 

 water, and then to approach the hives " holding 

 forth pursuing smoke in your hand." And the 

 old-time bee-man of to-day takes his mug of small- 

 beer as a necessary rite, and washes himself before 

 handling his hives. 



But perhaps the great charm of the fourth 

 Georgic consists, not in its nearness to truth about 

 bee-life, but in the continual reference to the 

 beautiful myths, and hardly less attractive errors, 

 of immemorial times, copied so faithfully by 

 mediaeval writers, but not apt to be heard of by the 

 learner of to-day unless he reads the old books. 



Virgil begins his poem by speaking of " heaven- 

 born honey, the gift of air," in allusion to the belief 

 that the nectar in flowers was not a secretion of 

 the plant itself, but fell like manna from the skies. 

 He seriously warns his readers of the disastrous 

 effect of echoes on the denizens of a hive, and of 



