The Life of the Bee 
space, as we come and go in the streets 
and squares of our towns. Would the 
mere sight of our movements, our build- 
ings, machines, and canals, convey to him 
any precise idea of our morality, intellect, 
our manner of thinking, and loving, and 
hoping, — in a word, of our real and inti- 
mate self? All he could do, like our- 
selves when we gaze at the hive, would be 
to take note of some facts that seem very 
surprising ; and from these facts to deduce 
conclusions probably no less erroneous, 
no less uncertain, than those that we choose 
to form concerning the bee. 
This much at least is certain ; our “ little 
black specks” would not reveal the vast 
moral direction, the wonderful unity, that 
are so apparent in the hive. ‘“ Whither 
do they tend, and what is it they do?” he 
would ask, after years and centuries of 
patient watching. ‘“ What is the aim of 
their life, or its pivot? Do they obey 
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