i 7 2 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY 



and as one whose teaching the shadow of years has not tarnished. 

 Here his perceptions winged themselves to their goal as swiftly and as 

 unerringly as the eager bees themselves fly to the hive with each load of 

 nectar when every hour of the summer's day warns them that the golden 

 harvest time is fleeting. He knew that work made the bees cheerful, 

 and that sunny weather cheered their hearts; that discouragement did 

 but make them work the harder, and that death itself, dreaded instinc- 

 tively by every animate thing, was to them, when set against the com- 

 mon welfare, a thing of naught. 



Half playfully, half affectionately, yet wholly respectfully withal, he 

 continually likens the race of bees to the race of men. 



I will tell you of sights of tiny things to be wondered at, 

 Great-hearted leaders, the customs of the whole race, 

 Their passions, tribes, and battles, 



he says in his opening paragraph. In the course of his pages, " grand- 

 sires of grandsires are numbered," " the hearts of the bees are agitated 

 in war," " the kings turn to the foe great souls in tiny breasts," " sad 

 funeral rites are conducted." Often in the course of the poem he refers 

 to their homes, their dwellings, their waxed realms and rich storehouses, 

 their palaces and cities — a picturesque phraseology which Maeterlinck 

 repeats with great effect. 



" Behold," says Virgil, giving us in one long paragraph a far from 

 uncreditable resume of the life and labors of the bee, 



Behold, I will now describe the natural traits 



Which Jupiter himself has given to the bees as a reward 



For their harmonious humming . . . 



When they fed the king of the sky in the Dictean cave. 



They alone have a common offspring, a common building of the city, 



And spend their lives under powerful laws. 



They alone know their country and their settled home; 



Mindful of the coming winter, they endure toil in summer, 



And put aside for the common advantage what they have gained. 



Some direct their attention toward the provisions, 



And by agreement labor in the fields; 



Others within the home place the nectar of narcissus 



And the sticky sap from bark for the foundation of the comb, 



And thence draw downward the tenacious wax; 



Others raise to maturity the young, the hope of the race; 



Others ripen the honey, and fill the cells with nectar; 



To some has fallen by lot the guardianship at the gates. . . . 



The work seethes, and the sweet-smelling honey is fragrant with thyme. . . . 



An inborn love of harvesting urges on the Cecropian bee, 



Each in his own function. . . . 



There is one time of toil, one rest from work, for all. 



In the morning they rush out from the gates; there is no delay; 



Again when evening has warned them to cease 



From feeding in the fields, they seek their dwellings, 



