The Life of the Bee 
less intelligence, have vanished, not meeting 
with a like good fortune, and have lost for 
ever the chance of exciting our wonder. 
It were rash to affirm aught beside; and all 
that remains—our reflections, our obstinate 
search for the final cause, our admiration 
and hopes—all these in truth are no more 
than our feeble cry as, in the depths of the 
unknown, we clash against what is more 
unknowable still; and this feeble cry de- 
clares the highest degree of individual 
existence attainable for us on this mute and 
impenetrable surface, just as the flight of 
the condor, the song of the nightingale, 
declare the highest degree of existence their 
species allows. But the evocation of this 
feeble cry, whenever opportunity offers, is 
none the less one of our most unmistakable 
duties; nor should we let ourselves be dis- 
couraged by its apparent futility. 
186 
