HUMBLE-BEES AND FOXGLOVES. 331 



this way. It would seem, therefore, that there may be a curious 

 change in a bee's life-habits, consequent upon the approach of a 

 lethargy which may or may not precede death. The primary 

 instinct or habit, however — that of extracting nectar from the 

 flower — remains unmodified, and supposing that this last bee 

 really was dying, then, so far from feeling or providing for its 

 approaching dissolution, we see it continuing at its work as long 

 as ever its strength will allow it to, and expending its last 

 energy either in rifling the flower it is in, or endeavouring to get 

 to another, in order to do so — a strong instance of " the ruling 

 passion " being strong in death. 



But why should there, now, be a change in the method of 

 rifling the flower ? Although, as I have said, one may watch 

 bees that habitually do not enter foxgloves, for a very long time, 

 and for many days in succession, without seeing them do so, yet 

 it seems reasonable to conclude that this more obvious process, 

 which allows of every flower being ransacked, before its corolla 

 has either been shed or perforated, was the first one employed 

 by all species, and that the others represent departures from it. 

 If this be so, then it would appear that the lethargy, however 

 induced, under which a bee whose individual habits have thus 

 come to differ from its ancestral ones, is labouring, produces a 

 mental disturbance which, in some cases, may take the form of 

 a reversion to these earlier habits. If so, then we have here a 

 principle through which light might be thrown upon the course 

 of evolution, not only in bees, but also in some other in- 

 sects, or species, belonging to other divisions of the animal 

 kingdom. 



I subsequently introduced a lethargic bee belonging to one of 

 the species, which does not habitually enter the flowers of the 

 foxglove, into one, on which she crawled painfully up it, and on 

 my cutting the base of the tube with the scissors, as before, I 

 saw her proboscis several times shot out, as in the former case. 

 She then came out, and I put her into several others, which she 

 each time vacated, and then, seeming to take a new lease of life 

 and energy, whirred her wings, and flew away. Watching her 

 movements, however, I saw that there was something peculiar 

 about them. She flew in an aimless and, as it were, confused 

 sort of way, mostly in circles, and faster than usual. In this 



