The Life of the Bee 
almost invisible matter, as though it were 
a fluid whereon depended the destiny of 
man? I hold, and exaggerate nothing, 
that our interest herein is of the most con- 
siderable. The discovery of a sign of 
true intellect outside ourselves procures 
us something of the emotion Robinson 
Crusoe felt when he saw the imprint of 
a human foot on the sandy beach of his 
island. We seem less solitary than we 
had believed. And indeed, in our en- 
deavour to understand the intellect of 
the bees, we are studying in them that 
which is most precious in our own sub- 
stance: an atom of the extraordinary 
matter which possesses, wherever it at- 
tach itself, the magnificent power of 
transfiguring blind necessity, of organ- 
ising, embellishing, and multiplying life, 
and, most striking of all, of holding in 
suspense the obstinate force of death, 
and the mighty, irresponsible wave that 
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