The Life of the Bee 
apparent movement in the depths of their 
dwellings, might conclude therefrom that 
they, too, were miserable and inert. It 
takes time to distinguish the manifold 
activity contained in this inertia. 
And indeed every one of the little almost 
motionless groups in the hive is incessantly 
working, each at a different trade. Repose 
is unknown to any; and such, for instance, 
as seem the most torpid, as they hang in 
dead clusters against the glass, are entrusted 
with the most mysterious and fatiguing task 
of all: it is they who secrete and form the 
wax. But the details of this universal 
activity will be given in their place. For 
the moment we need only call attention 
to the essential trait in the nature of the 
bee which accounts for the extraordinary 
agglomeration of the various workers. The 
bee is above all, and even to a greater extent 
than the ant, a creature of the crowd. She 
can only live in the midst of a multitude. 
When she leaves the hive, which is so 
densely packed that she has to force her 
way with blows of her head through the 
living walls that enclose her, she departs 
24 
