It appears from the beautiful experiments of Mr. Newport, noticed in the former article, that bees in general maintain a temperature of 10 or 15° above that of the medium in which they live; but that at certain periods this temperature is greatly increased, In the month of June when the atmosphere was at 56 or 58°, the temperature of the hive was 96° or 95o. This high temperature arose from the nurse-bees ines bating on the combs, and voluntarily increasing their heat by means of respiration before the new bees come forth. C. T.

wanted.

The laborious task of ventilating the hive is seldom or never intermitted, in the common form of hive, either by day or night during summer. There are distinct gangs of ventilators, each gang being on duty for about half an hour. In winter, when the bees are quiet, and their respiration only just sufficient to maintain vitality, of course no ventilation is carried on, but, by gently tapping on the hive, its inmates wake up, increase their respirations, and consequently the temperature of the hive to such a degree that the air becomes intolerably hot and vitiated. To remedy this a number of worker-bees immediately come to the entrance of the hive, and begin to ventilate the interior as laboriously as in the summer, although the open air be too cold for them to venture abroad.

In some of the larger and improved forms of hive the necessity for ventilation is not so urgent; but Huber remarked that the bees began to fan the air as soon as the sun was allowed to shine into a glass hive by removing the shelter. By similar means bees endeavour to get rid of noxious odours. Huber says, "Having separated some bees from their hive by the attraction of honey, we brought cotton, dipped in spirit of wine, near the head. Its effect could not be mistaken-they dispersed, agitating their wings, and then drew together again to resume their repast. When completely engaged the experiment was repeated, and they dispersed anew, but without retracting the proboscis entirely-they were satisfied with vibrating the wings, and continued feeding: when too much affected by disagreeable sensations, they precipitately withdrew and took to flight. Frequently a bee turned away from the honey and began to fan itself, until the sensation or its cause were by this means abated, and then returned to feed.

"Such experiments are never more successful than at the entrance of the hive; because the bees, retained by the united attraction of honey and their home, are less di-posed to retreat from external impressions. Humble bees adopt the same method of dispelling pernicious odours. But what is very remarkable, and may partly show the importance of vibrating their wings, neither their males, nor those of domestic bees, though very sensible of similar sensations, know how to protect themselves, like the workers, against them. Ventilation is therefore one of the industrial operations peculiar to the workers.

"The Author of Nature in assigning a dwelling to these insects where the air can hardly penetrate, bestows the means of averting the fatal effects which might result from the vitiation of their atmosphere.

RAMBLES IN BELGIUM. No. IX.-MALINES.

in- I

1

THERE was a tremendous stir and excitement at the station at Malines, when I got out of the railway carriage at that great central point of all the Belgian railroads. I A train from Ostend had met with an accident, and, no particulars having arrived, there were a great many dividuals, friends of expected passengers, in a state of feverish uncertainty and suspense: I became so inte rested in the probable fate of these parties, that I waited to hear the result. In about an hour the train its appeared; and, much to the joy and satisfaction of ail present, it became speedily known that no lives were lost, and that no one had received any very serious injury. To listen, then, to the cordial greetings and the exclamations poured forth by German, Belgian, French, Dutch, and English tongues, was truly entertaining "All's well that ends well," was the prevailing seatment, and one in which I heartily united as I left the station, and made my entrée through the new gilt gate into the quiet town of Malines.

My attention was immediately awakened to the antiquity of the surrounding streets and houses; the later are very large, and are adorned in the veritable Flemish style. Some of the ornaments are excessively rich. I and the points and gables are decorated in the most florid manner. It seemed, at first sight, that a hundred histories were attached to a particularly antique looking house, when anon, another appeared in a neighbouring street as quaint and fanciful, and then going further and further on, others of the same character were seen in every part of the town; and when at night I indulged in a reverie and promenade, the effect of all these was extremely picturesque and beautiful, especially as the moon, just then at the full, gave her softened lustre, and imparted a silvery tint that completed the perfo charm of the ensemble. It needed very little effort of the imagination to fancy many a passer by and many a group lingering to have yet another word, acters in the scenes that Froissart and Philip de Comines depetest with so much fidelity. The garments of the pas add greatly to the mise en scene, and, above all, the moon shining so steadily. Whoever wishes to see th architectural beauties of Belgium in their best aspect, should certainly select moonlight nights during his rate blings, in order to enjoy the fantastic appearances that will be found wherever he moves. A great many Erg lish families were residing here, probably partly quiet's sake, partly for economy, as living in this outf the-way town is very moderate, house rent reasonable, provisions cheap, and luxuries attainable. It is also conveniently situated within an easy distance of Brussels, and not a long journey from the coast. It is called Mslines and Mechlin; under this latter designation it is well known to most of the fair sex from its lace, which, though of coarser quality than the famons Brussels' variety, is yet very celebrated and much admired.

The host of the hotel, La Grue, accompanied me a short distance down the street to the left of the Grande Place, in order to show me the cathedral: on our way,

we passed through a line of stalls and booths, and I found that it was the Malines' Fair. There were a great number of stalls for the sale of cakes, fruit, and light fancy articles, and one which not a little astonished me, a book-stall. The books were of very various nature and age, s me of the cheap light books of the day, some few dark-looking volumes, which would have delighted the heart of a bibliopole to look at; in fact, all sorts were here to be met with. Malines is the Canterbury of Belgium, being the see of the primate; he has a residence not far from the cathedral, which is a quiet, respectablelooking edifice.

The cathedral is very ancient, and is remarkable as possessing a lofty tower of immense height. The architecture is evidently of the Moresco style; on the outside is a clock-dial, the numbers on which are so large, that in the streng moonlight the citizens can tell the hour. The effect of the moon's rays through the open Gothic work of the summit of this tower is beautiful. On the pavement is a circle of stones of the same size and dimensions as the clock above. The interior of the building contains a picture, in the very best manner of his most finished style, by Vandyke. The subject is the Crucifixion. The vigour and attention to detail in this work are most extraordinary. Some of the figures are in themselves exquisite studies. The weeping Magdalen is perfect; it is the very portrait of that devoted woman, who is here represented at the foot of the Cross. No idealist, however highly he may have formed his image of that lovely follower of divine faith, will be disappointed when he sees her on this glowing canvas. There was so much to notice in this celebrated painting, that I did not allow myself on this occasion sufficient time to judge of the merits of several others which were on the adjoining walls. Subsequent visits, however, did not detain me by their side, for I invariably left all to enjoy again and again the real gem of the whole collection. Every time I saw this one, I found some new beauty to admire, something too that bore minute inspection, and yet held out promise of mere enjoyment for another day. It would seem to be an acknowledged verity, that the subject of which this painting is the representation, is one which stimulates the artist to all that is in him of genius and talent. So should it be, in the hour of that solemn agony, there speaks a voice lofty and prompting to the heart of the true worker in the province of high art. It is impulsive rather than suggestive. It is a subject which can never tire; and the more often we behold it with true devotional feelings, and with a thorough consciousness of its sublimity and grandeur, the more open will our hearts, sated with the petty vexations and wearisome trials of this world of woes and griefs, become softened and toned down to the endurance of our own lot. With respect to this particular artist, Vandyke, I can safely say, until this period of my life I never knew of what high conceptions he was gifted with. In En land there are so few of his sacred compositions, that I was continually surprised with the beauties I met with in the different churches throughout Flanders. My whole thoughts when in this cathedral were so constantly absorbed by repeated gazings on the Crucifixion, that, although I entered the holy walls seven or eight times dur ng my stay at Matines, I did not give more than five minutes' | attention to the wondrous carved pulpit, which some connoisseurs reckon the finest in Europe. It represents the Conversion of St. Paul, and occupies a large space in the body of the cathedral. On my last visit, the sacristan led me to a monument in the wall of the choir. It is the family memorial of the house of Bartholdi. There is this inscription on it:

The sabots are much worn by the lower orders who clatter along the quiet places, with very certain testimony of their whereabouts. At the market I saw some boys, who at the end of a long string had fastened each a bird; one of these unfortunates was a quail; they were all to be disposed of, but I did not remain to witness any of these commercial transactions. The vegetables and fruit exposed for sale were remarkably fine and very cheap; the pears were in excellent order, very large, sweet, and in great variety. There is a custom I observed in many of the gardens, both here and in many other places in Belgium, of training the pear trees as the elms are done in the vicinity of London; that is to say, all the lower branches are lopped off, and the tree is made to grow in a sort of bush at the top. In all probability, this is designed to cause the tree to produce a greater abundance of fine fruit.

The church at Nôtre Dame contains a picture by Rubens, which having been strongly recomiended to my notice, I took an early opportunity of going to see it. It is placed on the back of the altar; the colours are very fresh, and the picture is in good preservation. It originally consisted of eight distinct groups, all having reference to the main subject-"The Miraculous Draught of Fishes;" but the whole having been carried off to Paris, only five were subsequently restored; consequently, in its present state it is imperfect. One of the volets has a figure of Tobias, drawn in the most masterly manner, and in colouring equal to many of the productions of Titian. The walls of this church were hung with black drapery, on which skulls and thigh bones were worked in white. Very dismal and very suggestive of all sad things. It was here where the lord of the manor, whose funeral I passed the previous day, was buried. The character of this edifice is essentially Gothic, and has no mixture in any of its parts; so that these funeral equipments appeared the very climax of woe's despondency.

The church of St Jean, possessing an altar-piece, also by Rubens, and, indeed, considered by him as his best production, claimed my attention; and after having

some trouble in finding out the functionary who held | the keys, I stood before "the Adoration of the Magi." I must confess that I give the preference to the painting at the church of Nôtre Dame. Either the canvas has been injured by cleanings or repairs, or else the colours having been laid on thickly, have given way, and thus deteriorated the general effect. The receipt in the handwriting of the great artist is carefully preserved by the custos. It is written in a good manly hand, and is signed Peter Paul Rubens. He was paid 1,800 florins, and began and finished the painting and volets in eighteen days.

It was impossible to resist the invitation of my landlady, who procured me an introduction to a pleasant pic-nic party, who allowed me to accompany them to Steen, where I saw the château occupied by Rubens, and from thence to Perck where Teniers resided, and where there is a picture of his which, however, I did not see. It was with much regret that I bade Malines adieu; not the least charm which the town has is its carillons, that so agreeably wait upon the ear with dulcet harmonies. They consist of a chime set in motion by machinery, and connected to which are very many stops. Of an evening by the side of the river, the carillons were welcome harbingers of the night's arrival.

Poetry.

[In Original Poetry, the Name, real or assumed, of the Author, is printed in Small Capitals under the title; in Selections, it is printed in Italics at the end.]

A CHILD'S LAMENT,

ON THE UNEXPECTED DEATH OF A FAVOURITE BIRD.

Written for, and at the request of, my little Son,

BY THE REV. HOWELL PHILLIPS,

It was a little wayward thing,
With crimson head and golden wing,
The bird that died to-day :
It hopped and chirrupped in its cage,
Buoyant, as though it knew not age,
And spent its life in play.

But Death, whose noiseless, viewless hand
Can man and beast alike command,

Unkindly struck my bird:

No outward sign of sickness gave
A token of a speedy grave,

It died unseen, unheard.

The day of health, the peaceful sleep,
With head beneath its wing-O! weep!
When morning ope'd her eye,
Revealed my darling dead and cold,
It's perch relinquished, and it's hold
Of life as easily!

I loved the bird-my mother dear
Loved it's sweet note, so soft and clear,
And cherished-fed it, too:
And, as she feeds and fondles me,
I, too, must weep, my bird, for thee,
For grief, where love, is due.

Miscellaneous.

MODE OF BREEDING LEECHES IN SOINDE.

THE breeding of leeches, even in Europe, is kept a secret, so far as anything can be in that quarter of the world. The breeding of them was at one period almost entirely confined to a tribe of gipsies, but the secret got known and went abroad. In Great Britain, even to

this day, the best description of leeches is procured from the Continent. In Ceylon, where the variety of leeches is more numerous perhaps than in any part of the world, the propagation of the sort used in phlebotomy is made a secret of. In India the leech propagators do all they can to keep the knowledge to themselves. This has not, however, prevented one of our most accomplished naturalists and botanists from propagating these valuable reptiles with the greatest success; so much so, indeed, as to be a great saving to Government in furnishing the hospitals. Major Blenkins is the gentleman to whom we allude, and to whom we take this opportunity of returning thanks for the perusal of his curious and very interesting paper on this subject. Burnt earthen vessels, commonly called “cottee pots," are used for this purpose, of globular shape or form, being three feet in circumference, one ditto in height, and with mouth six inches in diameter, each pot being two-thirds filled with stiff black earth, containing a good portion of clay. To this add four handsful of finely-powdered dry goat or cow dung, two handfuls of dried hemp leaves, finely powdered, with two ounces of assafoetida. The vessel is then filled to within three inches of the mouth with water, and the whole mixed up with a wand or stick. Leeches of full growth and of the largest size are required for propagation, varying perhaps, from three to five inches in length, after being placed on and glutted from the human body. The leeches are put, nineteen or twenty, into each vessel; an earthen cover is then placed over the mouth, and the whole smeared over with a coating of cow-dung and earth, and placed in a sheltered spot, free from wind and sun. After the space of twenty-five days or a month, on the cover being moved off, about twenty cocoons will be found of the size of the sparrow's egg, and longer, and of a spongy nature. On being care fully torn open with the finger, from five to fifteen small leeches will emerge. All of these are then placed in a pot of water, into which a table-spoonful of sugar has been thrown. After ten days it is requisite to feed them with blood from the human body for a period of three months, when they will have attained the usual size for application. During the warm months, after a respite of ten days or so, the breeding leeches can again be placed as above described. The leech appears to live about eighteen months, and any number can be procured in this way.-Colonial Magazine.

LIFE is to us all like a succession of shower baths Some shiver and tremble, and holding in their hands the fatal string, look round for a means of escape, and give a slight pull, and feel the first misery of the shock, and then in fear give way, and shiver, and look, and gently pull again, and at last leave the scene of their trial, chilled and comfortless, and uninvigorated: and others rouse up their energies to face the seeming suffering, and after the first alarm is over, find that they have attained a lasting good at the expense of a momentary evil, for good that must be which, at whatever price. strengthens our powers of self-command, and gives a moral courage.-Margaret Percival.

CORIDON, PASTORELLA, AND CALIDORE.1

"And ever when he came in companie
Where Calidore was present, he would loure
And byte his lip, and even for jealousie
Was readie oft his owne hart to devoure,
Impatient of any paramour."

THE CLOTHES-MOTH.

FEW sounds are more terrible to the housewife's ears

than the name of the clothes-moth; and yet, if any of our fair readers will take the trouble to peruse the following details, they will perhaps feel a new interest in the object of their aversion, and gain a hint or two as to the best methods of dealing with this insidious foe to the integrity of our blankets and woollen garments as well as costly furs.

But, after all, it is not the clothes-moth that does the mischief; she merely lays the eggs, which in due time are hatched into maggots or caterpillars, seldom so much as half an inch in length, but furnished with a pair of admirable mandibles, with which they shear the nap from woollen and hairy fabrics, not certainly from mere love of mischief, but from the very same motive which prompts most of us to active exertion, namely, for the sake of food and clothing; for our clothes-maggot feeds upon woollen fibres, makes a jaunty cloak of the same to cover his body, and lines it daintily with silk, lest it should press too roughly against his delicate

white skin.

But still you will say, fair reader, it is the clothesmoth, after all, that is the parent of all the mischief. Well! be it so-It was only last night that we heard a cry of terror in our bed-room, and the terrific monster which caused it was brought to us for inspection. It was a poor little clothes-moth that had hidden itself all day, and had just come out to take a little air in the refreshing darkness of the night (for the clothes-moth is a nocturnal insect, and cannot endure the light of day), when being dazzled and blinded by the candle, it rushed forward, (probably to put it out, but this we don't know,) and was caught. The four wings which cover the insect appear to be little more than a mass of silky powder, and so fragile and delicate a thing is it that a touch suffices to destroy it.

in

From the middle of spring until near midsummer, these moths may be seen flying about after sunset, search of proper places for depositing their eggs. In order to ascertain the history of this insect, our favourite Réaumur inclosed a number of the moths in small bottles containing morsels of woollen cloth and stuff. The eggs laid were so small as scarcely to be visible; they were hatched in about three weeks, and the tiny grubs immediately began in the naturalist's bottles that work of havoc which is usually carried on in our drawers. They first begin to provide themselves with cloaks, and, in doing this, they exhibit from their very birth that wonderful skill which is well calculated to engage our attention. Ce que la nature apprend est squ de bonne heure. At first the grubs can only be examined by means of a magnifying glass, and they are therefore seen to most advantage at a more advanced age. The cloak or sheath which it forms soon after birth, is a sort of tissue of wool, the colour of which, of course, depends upon that of the stuff attacked. Sometimes it assumes a very harlequin appearance from being composed of bands of different colours, as the taste of the insect has led it to attack cloth dyed blue, green, red, gray, &c. The insect moves upon six scaly legs, situated near the head, which are protruded for the purposes of locomotion, the sheath being dragged along after the (1) See Engraving on preceding page.

woollen filaments of the proper size: if those close at hand do not suit its purpose, it extends its body often as much as half out of the sheath in search of beuz ones. Having found one to his mind, the insect seas it with the mandibles, and by repeated efforts tears in out of the fabric, and attaches it to the end of the sheath: cutting as well as tearing, and for this the mandibles this is repeated many times. The operation is one of are well adapted, consisting as they do of scaly plates, similar to scissors, and terminating in a point.

But it is necessary to increase the length of the sheath at both ends. How is this to be done! While M. Réaumur was watching an insect which had been working at one end of the sheath, what was his surprise insect have two heads?" thought he, "or is the exto see a head emerge from the other end! "Can th tremity of its tail formed like a head?" On continuing to watch, there was no doubt that it was a head, and it soc appeared that the insect has the power of turning in its sheath, so as to put out its head at either end; and this time for a manoeuvre of such apparent difficulty. it does with so much rapidity that there scarcely seems

In order to see how the insect turns in its case,

M. Réaumur cut a piece off the end of its sheath, so insect immediately set to work to repair the damag to leave only about a third of the body covered. The and did as much work in twenty-four hours as it well bent itself double, the folded part projecting for a otherwise have done in a month. In turning, the insert in the whole sheath the middle or widest part. ment out of the sheath, and occupying what would be

But, as the caterpillar increases in diameter as wel as in length, its sheath soon becomes too narrow fr its body. The silk-worm and other caterpillars chang the clothes-moth caterpillar change its sheath in s their skin when it becomes too tight for them; dəs similar way? or does its increasing size distend the sheath so as to accommodate it to its body! The insect adopts a far more ingenious and efficient pla similar circumstances; it slits open the sheath, an it does exactly what a skilful tailor would do under lets in a new piece of the required size; but, in order that its body may not be exposed while it is at work, a actually lets in four separate pieces, two on each side, so that it is never necessary for the grub to cut open side of the sheath. more than a single slit, extending half way along exe

Réaumur placed some grubs whose sheaths were ca In order to watch these proceedings with facility, single colour, upon cloths of a different colour, such s blue upon red, red upon green, &c. The bands. showed the periodical lengthenings, while those ha different colours which appeared across the sheath which extended in a right line from one end to th other, showed the increase in width.

middle, and extends the slit to the extremity, using s In cutting open the sheath, the grub begins in the mandibles for the purpose, which make as clean s as the best scissors would do. When one slit is thas filled in, another is made and filled in like manner: then turning in its sheath, the grub proceeds to enlarge the other half of the case. About two hours are c

pied in making one cut, and the wool is filled in in th course of the next day.

It was stated above that the insect lines its sheath clothes-moth caterpillar secretes a quantity of si with silk. In common with most caterpillars the which it spins into delicate threads, strong court however, to suspend it in the air. With this sky