The Life of the Bee 
I have seen thousands strained out from 
the syrups in which they had perished ; 
thousands more alighting even on the 
boiling sweets; the floors covered and win- 
dows darkened with bees, some crawling, 
others flying, and others still so completely 
besmeared as to be able neither to crawl 
nor to fly — not one in ten able to carry 
home its ill-gotten spoils, and yet the 
air filled with new hosts of thoughtless 
comers.” 
This, however, seems to me no more 
conclusive than might be the spectacle of 
a battlefield, or of the ravages of alcohol- 
ism, to a superhuman observer bent on 
establishing the limits of human under- 
standing. Indeed, less so, perhaps ; for 
the situation of the bee, when compared 
with our own, is strange in this world. 
It was intended to live in the midst of an 
indifferent and unconscious nature, and 
not by the side of an extraordinary being 
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