"Such was the spell, which round a Wildman's arm Twin'd in dark wreaths the fascinated swarm; Bright o'er his breast the glittering legions led, Or with a living garland bound his head. His dextrous hand, with firm yet hurtless hold. Could seize the chief, known by her scales of gold. Prune, 'mid the wondering train, her filmy wing. Or, o'er her folds, the silken fetter fling." +Evans.+ Cautioning his readers as to the hazard of attempting, what he himself accomplished only by long experience and great dexterity, Wildman concludes his account with a parody of the reply of C. Furius Cresinus, a liberated Roman slave, who, being accused of witchcraft in consequence of his raising more abundant crops than his neighbours, and therefore cited before a Roman tribunal, produced his strong implements of husbandry, his well-fed oxen, and a hale young woman his daughter; and pointing to them, said, "_These, Romans! are my instruments of witchcraft; but I cannot show you my toil, my sweats, and anxious cares._" "So," says Wildman, "may I say, _These, Britons! are my instruments of witchcraft; but I cannot show you my hours of attention to this subject, my anxiety and care for these useful insects; nor can I communicate to you my experience, acquired during a course of years_." _The neatest and most scientific mode_ with which I am acquainted _of uniting weak families together in harmony_ was invented by my friend The +Rev. Richard Walond+, whom I had occasion to mention in a former chapter, and whose experience in the management of bees, for nearly half a century, entitle his opinions concerning them to great respect. His theory and practice upon this subject are as follow. Bees, says he, emit a peculiar odour, and it is by no means improbable that every family of bees emits an odour peculiar to itself: if so, as their vision seems to be imperfect, and their smell acute, it may be by this distinctive and peculiar odour that they are enabled to discriminate betwixt the individuals of their own family and those of a stranger hive. Upon this supposition, if the odours of two separate stocks or swarms can be so blended as to make them completely merge into each other, there will then probably be no difficulty in effecting the union of any two families that it may be desirable to unite. To accomplish this end therefore, Mr. Walond had recourse to a very ingenious contrivance: he procured a plate of tin, the size of a divider, and thickly perforated with holes, about the size of those in a coarse nutmeg-grater. Having confined in their respective hives or boxes, the two families to be united, and placed them over each other, with only a divider between them; he introduced his perforated tin plate upon the divider, which was then withdrawn. Immediately the bees began to cluster with hostile intentions, one family clinging to the upper, the other to the under