The Life of the Fly 



possible to read the sealed pages of others' 

 lives; but no one can sound an existence out- 

 side his own and even then he can think him- 

 self lucky if a retentive memory and the habit 

 of reflection give his soundings the proper ac- 

 curacy. As none of us is able to project him- 

 self into another's skin, we must needs, in 

 considering this problem, remain inside our 

 own. 



To talk about one's self is hateful, I know. 

 The reader must have the kindness to excuse 

 me for the sake of the study in hand. I shall 

 take the silent Beetle's place in the witness- 

 box, cross-examining myself in all simplicity 

 of soul, as I do the animal, and asking myself 

 whence that one of my instincts which stands 

 out above the others is derived. 



Since Darwin bestowed upon me the title 

 of 'incomparable observer,' the epithet has 

 often come back to me, from this side and 

 from that, without my yet understanding what 

 particular merit I have shown. It seems to 

 me so natural, so much within everybody's 

 scope, so absorbing to interest one's self in 

 everything that swarms around us ! However, 

 let us pass on and admit that the compliment 

 is not unfounded. 



My hesitation ceases if it is a question of 



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