“What else would you have? I am the State; without me the State would perish. In other realms order is freely canvassed, and each one follows it according to his own idea, and as there are as many orders as opinions, constant disorder prevails. Here one lives happily, because the order is always the same. It is much better that these intelligent bees should have a queen instead of hundreds of nobles as in the Ants’ kingdom. The Bee world has so many times felt the danger of innovation, that it no longer seeks for radical change.” “It is unfortunate,” I said, “that well-being can only be obtained by a cruel division of castes. My bird’s instinct revolts at the notion of such inequality.” “Adieu,” said the queen; “may God enlighten you! From God proceeds instinct; let us obey Him. If it were possible that equality should be proclaimed, should it not be first among us whose duties serve a great end. Our affections are ruled by laws the most mathematical. But for all that, the hive and our various occupations can only be maintained by our wise system of government.” “For whom do you make your honey? for man!” said I. “Oh, liberty!” “It is true that I am not free,” said the queen; “I am even more bound than my subjects. Leave my State, Parisian Philosopher, else you may yet turn some weak heads.” “Some strong heads,” I replied. But she flew away. When the queen was gone, I scratched my head, and made a peculiar sort of Flea fall out of it. Being a perfectly cosmopolitan bird, I was about to enter into conversation with this bloodthirsty intruder, but he had leaped for dear life. Gaining confidence, he returned and said:— “O Philosopher of Paris, I am only a poor Flea, who has made a long journey on the back of a Wolf. I have listened with profound interest to your remarks, and felt honoured while I sat upon your learned pate. If you desire to find a government modelled on your own principles, go through Germany, cross Poland, and make your way to Ukraine, where you will find, in the administration of the Wolves, the noble independence you require, and which you pointed out to that old twaddler of a queen. The Wolf, Sir Bird, is the most harshly-judged-of animals. Naturalists quite ignore his purely republican principles, for he devours those of them who may cross his {50} path; but he cannot kill a bird, so you may safely trust yourself to his hospitality, and perch on the back of the proudest of them.” THE WOLVES’ REPUBLIC. Parisian Sparrows, birds of every clime, animals of the whole world, and ye petrified relics of antediluvian reptiles and monsters, admiration would seize on you as it did on me, could you behold the noble Wolves’ Republic—the only one in which hunger is conquered—This is what elevates the animal spirits.