I have often listened to the glowing accounts of the vast supplies of honey obtained by the first settlers, from their bees. Fifty years ago, the markets in our large cities were much more abundantly supplied than they now are, and it was no uncommon thing to see exposed for sale, large washing-tubs filled with the most beautiful honey. Various reasons have been assigned for the present depressed state of Apiarian pursuits. Some imagine that newly settled countries are most favorable for the labors of the bee: others, that we have overstocked our farms, so that the bees cannot find a sufficient supply of food. That neither of these reasons will account for the change, I shall prove more at length, in my remarks on Honey, and when I discuss the question of overstocking a district with bees. Others lay all the blame upon the bee-moth, and others still, upon our departure from the good old-fashioned way of managing bees. That the bee-moth has multiplied most astonishingly, is undoubtedly true. In many districts, it so superabounds, that the man who should expect to manage his bees with as little care as his father and grandfather bestowed upon them, and yet realize as large profits, would find himself most wofully mistaken. The old bee-keeper often never looked at his bees after the swarming season, until the time came for appropriating their spoils. He then carefully "hefted" all his hives so as to be able to judge as well as he could, how much honey they contained. All which were found to be too light to survive the Winter, he at once condemned; and if any were deficient in bees, or for any other reason, appeared to be of doubtful promise, they were, in like manner, sentenced to the sulphur pit. A certain number of those containing the largest supplies of honey, were also treated in the same summary way: while the requisite number of the _very best_, were reserved to replenish his stock another season. If the same system precisely, were now followed, a number of colonies would still perish annually, through the increased devastations of the moth.