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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 3489 ***
+FABRE, POET OF SCIENCE
+
+by DR. G.-V. LEGROS.
+
+
+
+
+"De fimo ad excelsa."
+J.-H. Fabre.
+
+WITH A PREFACE BY JEAN-HENRI FABRE.
+
+TRANSLATED BY BERNARD MIALL.
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+The good friend who has so successfully terminated the task which he felt a
+vocation to undertake thought it would be of advantage to complete it by
+presenting to the reader a picture both of my life as a whole and of the
+work which it has been given me to accomplish.
+
+The better to accomplish his undertaking, he abstracted from my
+correspondence, as well as from the long conversations which we have so
+often enjoyed together, a great number of those memories of varying
+importance which serve as landmarks in life; above all in a life like mine,
+not exempt from many cares, yet not very fruitful in incidents or great
+vicissitudes, since it has been passed very largely, in especial during the
+last thirty years, in the most absolute retirement and the completest
+silence.
+
+Moreover, it was not unimportant to warn the public against the errors,
+exaggerations, and legends which have collected about my person, and thus
+to set all things in their true light.
+
+In undertaking this task my devoted disciple has to some extent been able
+to replace those "Memoirs" which he suggested that I should write, and
+which only my bad health has prevented me from undertaking; for I feel that
+henceforth I am done with wide horizons and "far-reaching thoughts."
+
+And yet on reading now the old letters which he has exhumed from a mass of
+old yellow papers, and which he has presented and co-ordinated with so
+pious a care, it seems to me that in the depths of my being I can still
+feel rising in me all the fever of my early years, all the enthusiasm of
+long ago, and that I should still be no less ardent a worker were not the
+weakness of my eyes and the failure of my strength to-day an insurmountable
+obstacle.
+
+Thoroughly grasping the fact that one cannot write a biography without
+entering into the sphere of those ideas which alone make a life
+interesting, he has revived around me that world which I have so long
+contemplated, and summarized in a striking epitome, and as a strict
+interpreter, my methods (which are, as will be seen, within the reach of
+all), my ideas, and the whole body of my works and discoveries; and despite
+the obvious difficulty which such an attempt would appear to present, he
+has succeeded most wonderfully in achieving the most lucid, complete, and
+vital exposition of these matters that I could possibly have wished.
+
+Jean-Henri Fabre.
+
+Sérignan, Vaucluse,
+November 12, 1911.
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+
+
+CHAPTER 1. THE INTUITION OF NATURE.
+
+
+CHAPTER 2. THE PRIMARY TEACHER.
+
+
+CHAPTER 3. CORSICA.
+
+
+CHAPTER 4. AT AVIGNON.
+
+
+CHAPTER 5. A GREAT TEACHER.
+
+
+CHAPTER 6. THE HERMITAGE.
+
+
+CHAPTER 7. THE INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.
+
+
+CHAPTER 8. THE MIRACLE OF INSTINCT.
+
+
+CHAPTER 9. EVOLUTION OR "TRANSFORMISM."
+
+
+CHAPTER 10. THE ANIMAL MIND.
+
+
+CHAPTER 11. HARMONIES AND DISCORDS.
+
+
+CHAPTER 12. THE TRANSLATION OF NATURE.
+
+
+CHAPTER 13. THE EPIC OF ANIMAL LIFE.
+
+
+CHAPTER 14. PARALLEL LIVES.
+
+
+CHAPTER 15. THE EVENINGS AT SÉRIGNAN.
+
+
+CHAPTER 16. TWILIGHT.
+
+
+NOTES.
+
+
+INDEX.
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+
+Here I offer to the public the life of Jean-Henri Fabre; at once an
+admiring commentary upon his work and an act of pious homage, such as ought
+to be offered, while he lives, to the great naturalist who is even to-day
+so little known.
+
+Hitherto it was not easy to speak of Henri Fabre with exactitude. An enemy
+to all advertisement, he has so discreetly held himself withdrawn that one
+might almost say that he has encouraged, by his silence, many doubtful or
+unfounded rumours, which in course of time would become even more
+incorrect.
+
+For example, although quite recently his material situation was presented
+in the gloomiest of lights, while it had really for some time ceased to be
+precarious, it is none the less true that during his whole life he has had
+to labour prodigiously in order to earn a little money to feed and rear his
+family, to the great detriment of his scientific inquiries; and we cannot
+but regret that he was not freed from all material cares at least twenty
+years earlier than was the case.
+
+But he was not one to speak of his troubles to the first comer; and it was
+only after the sixth volume of the "Souvenirs entomologiques" had appeared
+that his reserve was somewhat mitigated. Yet it was necessary that he
+should speak of these troubles, that he should tell everything; and, thanks
+to his conversation and his letters, I have been able to revive the past.
+
+Among the greatest of my pleasures I count the notable honour of having
+known him, and intimately. As an absorbed and attentive witness I was
+present at the accomplishment of his last labours; I watched his last years
+of work, so critical, so touching, so forsaken, before his ultimate
+resurrection. What fruitful and suggestive lessons I learned in his
+company, as we paced the winding paths of his Harmas; or while I sat beside
+him, at his patriarchal table, interrogating that memory of his, so rich in
+remembrances that even the remotest events of his life were as near to him
+as those that had only then befallen him; so that the majority of the
+judgments to be found in this book, of which not a line has been written
+without his approval, may be regarded as the direct emanation of his mind.
+
+As far as possible I have allowed him to speak himself. Has he not sketched
+the finest pages of his "biography of a solitary student" in those racy
+chapters of his "Souvenirs": those in which he has developed his genesis as
+a naturalist and the history of the evolution of his ideas?
+(Introduction/1.) In all cases I have only introduced such indications as
+were essential to complete the sequence of events. It would have been idle
+to re-tell in the same terms what every one may read elsewhere, or to
+repeat in different and less happy terms what Fabre himself has told so
+well.
+
+I have therefore applied myself more especially to filling the gaps which
+he has left, by listening to his conversation, by appealing to his
+memories, by questioning his contemporaries, by recording the impressions
+of his sometime pupils. I have endeavoured to assemble all these data, in
+order to authenticate them, and have also gleaned many facts among his
+manuscripts (Introduction/2.), and have had recourse to all that portion of
+his correspondence which fortunately fell into my hands.
+
+This correspondence, to be truthful, does not appear at any time to have
+been very assiduous. Fabre, as we shall see in the story of his life
+(Introduction/3.), disliked writing letters, both in his studious youth and
+during the later period of isolation and silence.
+
+On the other hand, although he wrote but little, he never wrote with
+difficulty or as a mere matter of duty. Among all the letters which I have
+succeeded in collecting there are scarcely any that are not of interest
+from one point of view or another. No frivolous narratives, no futile
+acquaintances, no commonplace intimacies; everything in his life is
+serious, and everything makes for a goal.
+
+But we must set apart, as surpassing all others in interest, the letters
+which Fabre addressed to his brother during the years spent as schoolmaster
+at Carpentras or Ajaccio; for these are more especially instructive in
+respect of the almost unknown years of his youth; these most of all reveal
+his personality and are one of the finest illustrations that could be given
+of his life, a true poem of energy and disinterested labour.
+
+I have to thank M. Frédéric Fabre, who, in his fraternal piety, has
+generously placed all his family records at my disposal, and also his two
+sons, my dear friends Antonin Fabre, councillor at the Court of Nîmes, and
+Henri Fabre, of Avignon, for these precious documents; and I take this
+opportunity of expressing my profound gratitude.
+
+Let me at the same time thank all those who have associated themselves with
+my efforts by supplying me with letters in their possession and furnishing
+me with personal information; and in particular Mme Henry Devillario, M.
+Achard, and M. J. Belleudy, ex-prefect of Vaucluse; not forgetting M. Louis
+Charrasse, teacher at Beaumont-d'Orange, and M. Vayssières, professor of
+the Faculty of Sciences at Marseilles, all of whom I have to thank for
+personal and intimate information.
+
+I must also express my gratitude to M. Henri Bergson, Professor Bouvier,
+and the learned M. Paul Marchal for the advice and the valuable suggestions
+which they offered me during the preparation of this book.
+
+I shall feel fully repaid for my pains if this "Life" of one of the
+greatest of the world's naturalists, by enabling men to know him better,
+also leads them to love him the more.
+
+
+FABRE, POET OF SCIENCE.
+
+
+CHAPTER 1. THE INTUITION OF NATURE.
+
+Each thing created, says Emerson, has its painter or its poet. Like the
+enchanted princess of the fairy-tales, it awaits its predestined liberator.
+
+Every part of nature has its mystery and its beauty, its logic and its
+explanation; and the epigraph given me by Fabre himself, which appears on
+the title-page of this volume, is in no way deceptive. The tiny insects
+buried in the soil or creeping over leaf or blade have for him been
+sufficient to evoke the most important, the most fascinating problems, and
+have revealed a whole world of miracle and poetry.
+
+He saw the light at Saint-Léons, a little commune of the canton of Vezins
+in the Haut Rouergue, on the 22nd December, 1823, some seven years earlier
+than Mistral, his most famous neighbour, the greater lustre of whose
+celebrity was to eclipse his own.
+
+Here he essayed his earliest steps; here he stammered his first syllables.
+
+His early childhood, however, was passed almost wholly at Malaval, a tiny
+hamlet in the parish of Lavaysse, whose belfry was visible at quite a short
+distance; but to reach it one had to travel nearly twenty-five rough,
+mountainous miles, through a whole green countryside; green, but bare, and
+lacking in charm. (1/1.)
+
+All his paternal forebears came from Malaval, and thence one day his
+father, Antoine Fabre, came to dwell at Saint-Léons, as a consequence of
+his marriage with the daughter of the huissier, Victoire Salgues, and in
+order to prepare himself, as working apprentice, in the tricks and quibbles
+of the law. (1/2.)
+
+In the roads of Malaval, bordered with brambles, in the glades of bracken,
+and amid the meadows of broom, he received his first impressions of nature.
+At Malaval too lived his grandmother, the good old woman who could lull him
+to sleep at night with beautiful stories and simple legends, while she
+wound her distaff or spun her bobbin.
+
+But what were all these imaginary marvels, what were the ogres who smelt
+fresh meat, or "the fairies who turned pumpkins into coaches and lizards
+into footmen" beside all the marvels of reality, which already he was
+beginning to perceive?
+
+For above all things he was born a poet: a poet by instinct and by
+vocation. From his earliest childhood, "the brain hardly released from the
+swaddling-bands of unconsciousness," the things of the outer world left a
+profound and living impression. As far back as he can remember, while still
+quite a child, "a little monkey of six, still dressed in a little baize
+frock," or just "wearing his first braces," he sees himself "in ecstasy
+before the splendours of the wing-cases of a gardener-beetle, or the wings
+of a butterfly." At nightfall, among the bushes, he learned to recognize
+the chirp of the grasshopper. To put it in his own words, "he made for the
+flowers and insects as the Pieris makes for the cabbage and the Vanessa
+makes for the nettle." The riches of the rocks; the life which swarms in
+the depth of the waters; the world of plants and animals, that "prodigious
+poem; all nature filled him with curiosity and wonder." "A voice charmed
+him; untranslatable; sweeter than language and vague as a dream." (1/3.)
+
+These peculiarities are all the more astonishing in that they seem to be
+absolutely spontaneous and in nowise hereditary. What his parents were he
+himself has told us: small farmers, cultivating a little unprofitable land;
+poor "husbandmen, sowers of rye, cowherds"; and in the wretched
+surroundings of his childhood, when the only light, of an evening, came
+from a splinter of pine, steeped in resin, which was held by a strip of
+slate stuck into the wall; when his folk shut themselves in the byre, in
+times of severe cold, to save a little firewood and while away the
+evenings; when close at hand, through the bitter wind, they heard the
+howling of the wolves: here, it would seem, was nothing propitious to the
+birth of such tastes, if he had not borne them naturally within him.
+
+But is it not the very essence of genius, as it is the peculiarity of
+instinct, to spring from the depths of the invisible?
+
+Yet who shall say what stores of thought unspoken, what unknown treasures
+of observation never to be communicated, what patient reflections
+unuttered, may be housed in those toil-worn brains, in which, perhaps,
+slowly and obscurely, accumulate the germs of faculties and talents by
+which some more favoured descendant may one day benefit? How many poets
+have died unpublished or unperceived, in whom only the power of expression
+was lacking!
+
+When he was seven years old his parents recalled him to Saint-Léons, in
+order to send him to the school kept by his godfather, Pierre Ricard, the
+village schoolmaster, "at once barber, bellringer, and singer in the
+choir." Rembrandt, Teniers, nor Van Ostade never painted anything more
+picturesque than the room which served at the same time as kitchen,
+refectory, and bedroom, with "halfpenny prints papering the walls" and "a
+huge chimney, for which each had to bring his log of a morning in order to
+enjoy the right to a place at the fireside."
+
+He was never to forget these beloved places, blessed scenes of his
+childhood, amid which he grew up like a little savage, and through all his
+material sufferings, all his hours of bitterness, and even in the
+resignation of age, their idyllic memory sufficed to make his life
+fragrant. He would always see the humble paternal garden, the brook where
+he used to surprise the crayfish, the ash-tree in which he found his first
+goldfinch's nest, and "the flat stone on which he heard, for the first
+time, the mellow ringing of the bellringer frog." (1/4.) Later, when
+writing to his brother, he was to recall the good days of still careless
+life, when "he would sprawl, the sun on his belly, on the mosses of the
+wood of Vezins, eating his black bread and cream" or "ring the bells of
+Saint-Léons" and "pull the tails of the bulls of Lavaysse." (1/5.)
+
+For Henri had a brother, Frédéric, barely two years younger than he;
+equally meditative by nature, and of a serious, upright mind; but his
+tastes inclined rather to matters of administration and the understanding
+of business, so that where Frédéric was bored, Henri was more than content,
+thirstily drinking in science and poetry "among the blue campanulas of the
+hills, the pink heather of the mountains, the golden buttercups of the
+meadows, and the odorous bracken of the woods." (1/6.) Apart from this the
+two brothers "were one"; they understood one another in a marvellous
+fashion, and always loved one another. Henri never failed to watch over
+Frédéric with a wholly fatherly solicitude; he was prodigal of advice,
+helpful with his experience, doing his best to smooth away all
+difficulties, encouraging him to walk in his footsteps and make his way
+through the world behind him. He was his confidant, giving an ear to all
+that befell him of good or ill; to his fears, his disappointments, his
+hopes, and all his thoughts; and he took the keenest interest in his
+studies and researches. On the other hand, he had no more sure and devoted
+friend; none more proud of his first success, and in later days no more
+enthusiastic admirer, and none more eager for his fame. (1/7.)
+
+He was twelve years old when his father, "the first of all his line, was
+tempted by the town," and led all his family to Rodez, there to keep a
+café. The future naturalist entered the school of this town, where he
+served Mass on Sunday, in the chapel, in order to pay his fees. There again
+he was interested in the animal creation above all. When he began to
+construe Virgil the only thing that charmed him, and which he remembered,
+was the landscape in which the persons of the poem move, in which are so
+many "exquisite details concerning the cicada, the goat, and the laburnum."
+
+Thus four years went by: but then his parents were constrained to seek
+their fortune elsewhere, and transported their household to Toulouse, where
+again the father kept a café. The young Henri was admitted gratuitously to
+the seminary of the Esquille, where he managed to complete his fifth year.
+Unfortunately his progress was soon interrupted by a new exodus on the part
+of his family, which emigrated this time to Montpellier, where he was
+haunted for a time by dreams of medicine, to which he seemed notably
+adapted. Finally, a run of bad luck persisting, he had to bid farewell to
+his studies and gain his bread as best he could. We see him set out along
+the wide white roads: lost, almost a wanderer, seeking his living by the
+sweat of his brow; one day selling lemons at the fair of Beaucaire, under
+the arcades of the market or before the barracks of the Pré; another day
+enlisting in a gang of labourers who were working on the line from
+Beaucaire to Nîmes, which was then in process of construction. He knew
+gloomy days, lonely and despairing. What was he doing? of what was he
+dreaming? The love of nature and the passion for learning sustained him in
+spite of all, and often served him as nourishment; as on the day when he
+dined on a few grapes, plucked furtively at the edge of a field, after
+exchanging the poor remnant of his last halfpence for a little volume of
+Reboul's poems; soothing his hunger by reciting the verses of the gentle
+baker-poet. Often some creature kept him company; some insect never seen
+before was often his greatest pleasure; such as the pine-chafer, which he
+encountered then for the first time; that superb beetle, whose black or
+chestnut coat is sprinkled with specks of white velvet; which squeaks when
+captured, emitting a slight complaining sound, like the vibration of a pane
+of glass rubbed with the tip of a moistened finger. (1/8.)
+
+Already this young mind, romantic and classic at once, full of the ideal,
+and so positive that it seemed to seek support in an intense grasp of
+things and beings--two gifts well-nigh incompatible, and often mutually
+destructive--already it knew, not only the love of study and a passion for
+the truth, but the sovereign delight of feeling everything and
+understanding everything.
+
+It was under these conditions--that is, amid the rudest privations--that he
+ventured to enter a competitive examination for a bursary at the École
+Normale Primaire of Avignon; and his will-power realized this first miracle
+of his career--he straightway obtained the highest place.
+
+In those days, when education had barely reached the lower classes, the
+instruction given in the primary normal school was still of the most
+summary. Spelling, arithmetic, and geometry practically exhausted its
+resources. As for natural history, a poor despised science, almost unknown,
+no one dreamed of it, and no one learned or taught it; the syllabus ignored
+it, because it led to nothing. For Fabre only, notwithstanding, it was his
+fixed idea, his constant preoccupation, and "while the dictation class was
+busy around him, he would examine, in the secrecy of his desk, the sting of
+a wasp or the fruit of the oleander," and intoxicate himself with poetry.
+(1/9.) His pedagogic studies suffered thereby, and the first part of his
+stay at the normal school was by no means extremely brilliant. In the
+middle of his second year he was declared idle, and even marked as an
+insufficient pupil and of mediocre intelligence. Stung to the quick, he
+begged as a favour that he should be given the opportunity of following the
+third year's course in the six months that remained, and he made such an
+effort that at the end of the year he victoriously won his superior
+certificate. (1/10.)
+
+A year in advance of the regulation studies, his curiosity might now
+exercise itself freely in every direction, and little by little it became
+universal. A chance chemistry lesson finally awakened in him the appetite
+for knowledge, the passion for all the sciences, of which he thirsted to
+know at least the elements. Between whiles he returned to his Latin,
+translating Horace and re-reading Virgil. One day his director put an
+"Imitation" into his hands, with double columns in Greek and Latin. The
+latter, which he knew fairly well, assisted him to decipher the Greek. He
+hastened to commit to memory the vocables, and idioms and phrases of all
+kinds (1/11.), and in this curious fashion he learned the language. This
+was his only method of learning languages. It is the process which he
+recommended to his brother, who was commencing Latin:
+
+"Take Virgil, a dictionary, and a grammar, and translate from Latin into
+French for ever and for ever; to make a good version you need only common
+sense and very little grammatical knowledge or other pedantic accessories.
+
+"Imagine an old inscription half-effaced: correctness of judgment partly
+supplies the missing words, and the sense appears as if the whole were
+legible. Latin, for you, is the old inscription; the root of the word alone
+is legible: the veil of an unknown language hides the value of the
+termination: you have only the half of the words; but you have common sense
+too, and you will make use of it." (1/12.)
+
+
+CHAPTER 2. THE PRIMARY TEACHER.
+
+Furnished with his superior diploma, he left the normal school at the age
+of nineteen, and commenced as a primary teacher in the College of
+Carpentras.
+
+The salary of the school teacher, in the year 1842, did not exceed 28
+pounds sterling a year, and this ungrateful calling barely fed him, save on
+"chickpeas and a little wine." But we must beware lest, in view of the
+increasing and excessive dearness of living in France, the beggarly
+salaries of the poor schoolmasters of a former day, so little worthy of
+their labours and their social utility, appear even more disproportionately
+small than they actually were. What is more to the point, the teachers had
+no pension to hope for. They could only count on a perpetuity of labour,
+and when sickness or infirmity arrived, when old age surprised them, after
+fifty or sixty years of a narrow and precarious existence, it was not
+merely poverty that awaited them; for many there was nothing but the
+blackest destitution. A little later, when they began to entertain a vague
+hope of deliverance, the retiring pension which was held up to their gaze,
+in the distant future, was at first no more than forty francs, and they had
+to await the advent of Duruy, the great minister and liberator, before
+primary instruction was in some degree raised from this ignominious level
+of abasement.
+
+It was a melancholy place, this college, "where life had something
+cloistral about it: each master occupied two cells, for, in consideration
+of a modest payment, the majority were lodged in the establishment, and ate
+in common at the principal's table."
+
+It was a laborious life, full of distasteful and repugnant duties. We can
+readily imagine, with the aid of the striking picture which Fabre has drawn
+for us, what life was in these surroundings, and what the teaching was:
+"Between four high walls I see the court, a sort of bear-pit where the
+scholars quarrelled for the space beneath the boughs of a plane-tree; all
+around opened the class-rooms, oozing with damp and melancholy, like so
+many wild beasts' cages, deficient in light and air...for seats, a plank
+fixed to the wall...in the middle a chair, the rushes of the seat departed,
+a blackboard, and a stick of chalk." (2/1.)
+
+Let the teachers of our spacious and well-lighted schools of to-day ponder
+on these not so distant years, and measure the progress accomplished.
+Evoking the memory of their humble colleague of Carpentras, may they feel
+the true greatness of his example: a noble and a glorious example, of which
+they may well be proud.
+
+And what pupils! "Dirty, unmannerly: fifty young scoundrels, children or
+big lads, with whom," no doubt, "he used to squabble," but whom, after all,
+he contrived to manage, and by whom he was listened to and respected: for
+he knew precisely what to say to them, and how, while talking lightly, to
+teach them the most serious things. For the joy of teaching, and of
+continually learning by teaching others, made everything endurable. Not
+only did he teach them to read, write, and cipher, which then included
+almost the entire programme of primary education; he endeavoured also to
+place his own knowledge at their service, as he himself acquired it.
+
+It was not only his love of the work that sustained him; it was the desire
+to escape from the rut, to accomplish yet another stage; to emerge, in
+short, from so unsatisfactory a position. Now nothing but physical and
+mathematical science would allow him to entertain the hope of "making an
+opening" in the world of secondary schoolmasters. He accordingly began to
+study physics, quite alone, "with an impossible laboratory, experimenting
+after his own fashion"; and it was by teaching them to his pupils that he
+learned first of all chemistry, inexpensively performing little elementary
+experiments before them, "with pipe-bowls for crucibles and aniseed flasks
+for retorts," and finally algebra, of which he knew not a word before he
+gave his first lesson. (2/2.)
+
+How he studied, what was the secret of his method, he told his brother a
+few years later, when the latter, marking time behind him, was pursuing the
+same career. A very disappointing career, no doubt, and far from lucrative,
+but "one of the noblest; one of those best fitted for a noble spirit, and a
+lover of the good." (2/3.)
+
+Listen to the lesson which he gives his brother:
+
+"To-day is Thursday; nothing calls you out of doors; you choose a
+thoroughly quiet retreat, where the light is not too strong. There you are,
+elbows on table, your thumbs to your ears, and a book in front of you. The
+intelligence awakes; the will holds the reins of it; the outer world
+disappears, the ear no longer hears, the eye no longer sees, the body no
+longer exists; the mind schools itself, recollects itself; it is finding
+knowledge, and its insight increases. Then the hours pass quickly, quickly;
+time has no measure. Now it is evening. What a day, great God! But hosts of
+truths are grouped in the memory; the difficulties which checked you
+yesterday have fused in the fire of reflection; volumes have been devoured,
+and you are content with your day...
+
+"When something embarrasses you do not abuse the help of your colleagues;
+with assistance the difficulty is only evaded; with patience and reflection
+IT IS OVERTHROWN. Moreover, one knows thoroughly only what one learns
+oneself; and I advise you earnestly, as far as possible, to have recourse
+to no aid other than reflection, above all for the sciences. A book of
+science is an enigma to be deciphered; if some one gives you the key of the
+enigma nothing appears more simple and more natural than the explanation,
+but if a second enigma presents itself you will be as unskilful as you were
+with the first...
+
+"It is probable that you will get the chance of a few lessons; do not by
+preference accept the easier and more lucrative, but rather the more
+difficult, even when the subject is one of which as yet you know nothing.
+The self-esteem which will not allow one's true character to be seen is a
+powerful aid to the will. Do not forget the method of Jules Janin, running
+from house to house in Paris for a few wretched lessons in Latin: 'Unable
+to get anything out of my stupid pupils, with the besotted son of the
+marquis I was simultaneously pupil and professor: I explained the ancient
+authors to myself, and so, in a few months, I went through an excellent
+course of rhetoric...'
+
+"Above all you must not be discouraged; time is nothing provided the will
+is always alert, always active, and never distracted; 'strength will come
+as you travel.'
+
+"Try only for a few days this method of working, in which the whole energy,
+concentrated on one point, explodes like a mine and shatters obstacles; try
+for a few days the force of patience, strength, and perseverance; and you
+will see that nothing is impossible!" (2/4.)
+
+These serious reflections show very clearly that his mind was already as
+mature, as earnest, and as concentrated as it was ever to be.
+
+Not only did he join example to precept; he looked about him and began to
+observe nature in her own house. The doings of the Mason-bee, which he
+encountered for the first time, aroused his interest to such a pitch that,
+being no longer able to constrain his curiosity, he bought--at the cost of
+what privations!--Blanchard's "Natural History of the Articulata," then a
+classic work, which he was to re-read a hundred times, and which he still
+retains, giving it the first place in his modest library, in memory of his
+early joys and emotions.
+
+The rocks also arrested and captivated his attention: and already the first
+volumes were corpulent of what was eventually to become his gigantic
+herbiary. His brother, about to leave for Vezins on vacation, was told of
+the specimens which he wanted to complete his collection; for although he
+had never set foot there since his first departure, he recalled, with
+remarkable precision, all the plants that grew in his native countryside;
+their haunts, their singularities, and the characteristics by which one
+could not fail to recognize them: as well as all the places which they
+chose by preference, where he used to wander as an urchin; the Parnassia
+palustris, "which springs up in the damp meadows, below the beech-wood to
+the west of the village; which bears a superb white flower at the top of a
+slightly twisted stem, having an oval leaf about its middle"; the purple
+digitalis, "whose long spindles of great red flowers, speckled with white
+inside, and shaped like the fingers of a glove," border a certain road; all
+the ferns that grow on the wastes, "amid which it is often no easy task to
+recollect one's whereabouts," and on the arid hills all the heathers, pink,
+white, and bluish, with different foliage, "of which the innumerable
+species do not, however, very greatly differ." Nothing is to be neglected;
+"every plant, whatever it may be, great or little, rare or common, were it
+only a frond of moss, may have its interest." (2/5.)
+
+Never weary of work, he accumulated all these treasures in his little
+museum, in order to study them the better; he collected all the coins
+exhumed from this ancient soil, formerly Roman, "records of humanity more
+eloquent than books," and which revealed to him the only method of learning
+and actually re-living history: for he saw in knowledge not merely a means
+of gaining his bread, but "something nobler; the means of raising the
+spirit in the contemplation of the truth, of isolating it at will from the
+miseries of reality, so to find, in these intellectual regions, the only
+hours of happiness that we may be permitted to taste." (2/6.)
+
+Fabre was so steeped in this passion for knowledge that he wished to evoke
+it in his brother, now teacher at Lapalud, on the Rhône, not far from
+Orange. It seemed to him that he would delight in his wealth still better
+could he share it with another. (2/7.) He stimulated him, pricked him on,
+and sought to encourage the remarkable aptitude for mathematics with which
+he believed him endowed. He employed his whole strength in breathing into
+the other's mind "that taste for the true and the beautiful" which
+possessed his own nature; he wished to share with him those stores of
+learning "which he had for some years so painfully amassed"; he would
+profit by the vacation to place them at his disposal; they would work
+together "and the light would come." Above all his brother must not allow
+his intelligence to slumber, must beware of "extinguishing that divine
+light without which one can, it is true, attend to one's business, but
+which alone can make a man honourable and respected."
+
+Let him, on the contrary, cultivate his mind incessantly, "the only
+patrimony on which either of us can count"; the reward would be his moral
+well-being, and, he hoped, his physical welfare also.
+
+Once more he reinforced his advice by that excellent counsel which was
+always his own lodestar:
+
+"Science, Frédéric, knowledge is everything...You are too good a thinker
+not to say with me that no one can better employ his time than by acquiring
+fresh knowledge...Work, then, when you have the opportunity...an
+opportunity that very few may possess, and for which you ought to be only
+too thankful. But I will stop, for I feel my enthusiasm is going to my
+head, and my reasons are so good already that I have no need of still more
+triumphant reasons to convince you." (2/8.)
+
+He had only one passion: shooting; more especially the shooting of larks.
+This sport delighted him, "with the mirror darting its intermittent beams
+under the rays of the morning sun amid the general scintillation of the
+dewdrops and crystals of hoarfrost hanging on every blade of grass." (2/9.)
+
+His sight was admirably sure, and he rarely missed his aim. His passion for
+shooting was always sustained by the same motive: the desire to acquire
+fresh knowledge; to examine unknown creatures close at hand; to discover
+what they ate and how they lived.
+
+Later, when he again took up his gun, it was still because of his love of
+life: it was to enable him to enumerate, inventory, and interrogate his new
+compatriots, his feathered fellow-citizens of Sérignan; to inform himself
+of their diet, to reveal the contents of their crops and gizzards.
+
+At one time he suddenly ceased to employ this distraction; he seems to have
+sacrificed it easily, under the stress of present necessities and cruel
+anxieties as to his uncertain future. "When we do not know where we shall
+be tomorrow nothing can distract us." (2/10.)
+
+His responsibilities were increasing. He had lately married. On the 30th
+October, 1844, he was wedded to a young girl of Carpentras, Marie Villard,
+and already a child was born. His parents, always unlucky, met nowhere with
+any success. By dint of many wanderings they had finally become stranded at
+Pierrelatte, the chief town of the canton of La Drôme, sheltered by the
+great rock which has given the place its name; and there again, of course,
+they kept a café, situated on the Place d'Armes.
+
+The whole family was now assembled in the same district, a few miles only
+one from another: but Henri was really its head. Having heard that a
+quarrel had arisen between his brother and his mother, he wrote to Frédéric
+in reprimand; gently scolding him and begging him to set matters right,
+"even if all the wrongs were not on his side."
+
+"My father, in one of his letters, complains that in spite of your nearness
+you have not yet been to see them. I know very well there is some reason
+for sulking; but what matter? Give it up: forget everything; do your best
+to put an end to all these petty and ugly estrangements. You will do so,
+won't you? I count on it, for the happiness of all." (2/11.)
+
+He was their arbitrator, their adviser, their oracle, their bond of union.
+
+With all this, he was ready to attempt the two examinations which were to
+decide his future. Very shortly, at Montpellier, he passed almost
+successively, at an interval of only a few months the examinations for both
+his baccalauréats; and then the two licentiate examinations in mathematics
+and physical science.
+
+While he was ardently studying for these examinations, sorrow for the first
+time knocked at his door. His first-born fell suddenly ill, and in a few
+days died. On this occasion all his ardent spirituality asserted itself,
+though in stricken accents, in the letter which he wrote to his brother to
+announce his loss:
+
+"After a few days of a marked improvement, which made me think he was
+saved, two large teeth were cut...and in three days a dreadful fever took
+him, not from us, who will follow him, but from this miserable world. Ah,
+poor child, I shall always see you as you were during those last moments,
+turning those wide, wandering eyes toward heaven, seeking the way to your
+new country. With a heart full of tears, I shall often let my thoughts go
+straying after you; but alas! with the eyes of the body I shall never see
+you again. I shall see you no more: yet only a few days ago I was making
+the finest plans for you. I used to work for you only; in my studies I
+thought only of you. Grow up, I used to say, and I will pour into your mind
+all the knowledge which has cost me so dear, which I am hoarding little by
+little...But reflection leads me to higher thoughts. I choke back the tears
+in my heart, and I congratulate him that Heaven has mercifully spared him
+this life of trials...My poor child...you will never, like your father,
+have to struggle against poverty and misfortune; you will never know the
+bitterness of life, and the difficulties of creating a position at a time
+when there are so many paths that lead to failure...I weep for you because
+we have lost you, but I rejoice because you are happy...You are happy, and
+this is not the mad hope of a father broken by sorrow; no, your last glance
+told me so, too eloquently for me to doubt it. Oh, how beautiful you were
+in your mortal pallor; the last sigh on your lips, your gaze upon heaven,
+and your soul ready to fly into the bosom of God! Your last day was the
+most beautiful!" (2/12.)
+
+Although study was his refuge, although he was thereby able to live through
+these evil days without too greatly feeling their weight, his position was
+hateful, and he lived a wretched life "from one day to another, like a
+beggar."
+
+In those troublous times, when education was of no account, it often
+happened that his teacher's salary was several months in arrears, and the
+city of Carpentras, "not being in funds," paid it only by instalments, and
+even so kept him a long time waiting. "One has to besiege the paymaster's
+door merely to obtain a trifle on account. I am ashamed of the whole
+business, and I would gladly abandon my claim if I knew where to raise any
+money." (2/13.)
+
+The genius of Balzac has recorded some unforgettable types of those poor
+and notable lives, at once so humble and so lofty. He has described the
+village curé and the country doctor. But how we should have loved to
+encounter in his gallery, among so many living portraits, a picture of the
+university life of fifty years ago; and above all a picture of the small
+schoolmaster of other days, living a life so narrow, so slavish, so
+painful, and yet so full of worth, so imbued with the sense of duty, and
+withal so resigned; a portrait for which Fabre might have served as model
+and prototype, and for which he himself has drawn an unforgettable sketch.
+
+He awaited impatiently the news of his removal, very modestly limiting his
+ambitions to the hope of entering some lycée as professor of the sciences.
+His rector was not unnaturally astonished that a young man of such unusual
+worth, already twice a licentiate, should be so little appreciated by those
+in high places and allowed to stagnate so long in an inferior post, and one
+unworthy of him.
+
+In the end, however, after much patient waiting, he became indignant; as
+always, he could see nothing ahead. The chair of mathematics at Tournon
+escaped him. Another position, at Avignon, also "slipped through his
+fingers"; why or how he never knew. He "began to see clearly what life is,
+and how difficult it is to make one's mark amid all this army of schemers,
+beggars and imbeciles who besiege every vacant post."
+
+But his heart was "none the less hot with indignation"; he had had enough
+of "Carpentras, that accursed little hole"; and when the vacations came
+round once more he "plainly considered the question" and declared "that he
+would never again set foot inside a communal school." (2/14.)
+
+He wrote to the rector: "If instead of crushing me into the narrow round of
+a primary school they would give me some employment of the kind for which
+my studies and ideas fit me, they would know then what is hatching in my
+head and what untirable activity there is in me." (2/15.)
+
+He resigned himself nevertheless; he cursed and swore and stormed at his
+fate; but he had once more to put up with it "for want of a better." All
+the same "the injustice was too unheard-of, and no one had ever seen or
+would ever see the like: to give him two licentiate's diplomas, and to make
+him conjugate verbs for a pack of brats! It was too much!" (2/16.)
+
+
+CHAPTER 3. CORSICA.
+
+At last the chair of physics fell vacant at the college of Ajaccio, the
+salary being 72 pounds sterling, and he left for Corsica. His stay there
+was well calculated to impress him. There the intense impressionability
+which the little peasant of Aveyron received at birth could only be
+confirmed and increased. He felt that this superb and luxuriant nature was
+made for him, and that he was born for it; to understand and interpret it.
+He would lose himself in a delicious intoxication, amid the deep woodlands,
+the mountains rich with scented flowers, wandering through the maquis, the
+myrtle scrub, through jungles of lentisk and arbutus; barely containing his
+emotion when he passed beneath the great secular chestnut-trees of
+Bastelica, with their enormous trunks and leafy boughs, whose sombre
+majesty inspired in him a sort of melancholy at once poetic and religious.
+Before the sea, with its infinite distances, he lingered in ecstasy,
+listening to the song of the waves, and gathering the marvellous shells
+which the snow-white breakers left upon the beach, and whose unfamiliar
+forms filled him with delight.
+
+He was soon so accustomed to his new life in peaceful Ajaccio, whose
+surroundings, decked in eternal verdure, are so captivating and so
+beautiful, that in spite of a vague desire for change he now dreaded to
+leave it. He never wearied of admiring and exalting the beautiful and
+majestic aspects of his new home. How he longed to share his enthusiasm
+with his father or his brother, as he rambled through the neighbouring
+maquis!
+
+"The infinite, glittering sea at my feet, the dreadful masses of granite
+overhead, the white, dainty town seated beside the water, the endless
+jungles of myrtle, which yield intoxicating perfumes, the wastes of
+brushwood which the ploughshare has never turned, which cover the mountains
+from base to summit; the fishing-boats that plough the gulf: all this forms
+a prospect so magnificent, so striking, that whosoever has beheld it must
+always long to see it again." (3/1.)
+
+"What is their rock of Pierrelatte, that enormous block of stone which
+overhangs the place where they dwell, a reef which rises from the surface
+of the ancient sea of alluvium, compared with these blocks of uprooted
+granite which lie upon the hillsides here?"
+
+And what were the Aubrac hills which traversed his native country; what was
+the Ventoux even, that famous Alp, "beside the peaks which rise about the
+gulf of Ajaccio, always crowned with clouds and whitened with snow, even
+when the soil of the plains is scorching and rings like a fired brick?"
+
+Time did nothing to abate these first impressions, and after more than a
+year on the island he was still full of wonder "at the sight of these
+granite crests, corroded by the severities of the climate, jagged,
+overthrown by the lightning, shattered by the slow but sure action of the
+snows, and these vertiginous gulfs through which the four winds of heaven
+go roaring; these vast inclined planes on which snow-drifts form thirty,
+sixty, and ninety feet in depth, and across which flow winding watercourses
+which go to fill, drop by drop, the yawning craters, there to form lakes,
+black as ink when seen in the shadow, but blue as heaven in the light...
+
+"But it would be impossible for me to give you the least idea of this dizzy
+spectacle, this chaos of rocks, heaped in frightful disorder. When, closing
+my eyes, I contemplate these results of the convulsion of the soil in my
+mind's eye, when I hear the screaming of the eagles, which go wheeling
+through the bottomless abysses, whose inky shadows the eye dares hardly
+plumb, vertigo seizes me, and I open my eyes to reassure myself by the
+reality."
+
+And he sends with his letter a few leaves of the snow immortelle--the
+edelweiss--plucked on the highest summits, amid the eternal snows; "you
+will put this in some book, and when, as you turn the leaves, the
+immortelle meets your eyes, it will give you an excuse for dreaming of the
+beautiful horrors of its native place." (3/2.)
+
+What a misfortune for him, what regret he would feel, "if he had now to go
+to some trivial country of plains, where he would die of boredom!"
+
+For him everything was unfamiliar: not only the flora, but the maritime
+wealth of this singular country. He would set out of a morning, visiting
+the coves and creeks, roving along the beaches of this magnificent gulf, a
+lump of bread in his pocket, quenching his thirst with sea-water in default
+of fresh!
+
+They were mornings full of rosy illusions, whose smiling hopes were
+revealed in his admirable letters to his brother. Already he meditated a
+conchology of Corsica, a colossal history of all the molluscs which live
+upon its soil or in its waters. (3/3.) He collected all the shells he could
+procure. He analysed, described, classed, and co-ordinated not only the
+marine species, but the terrestrial and freshwater shells also, extant or
+fossil. He asked his brother to collect for him all the shells he could
+find in the marshes of Lapalud, in the brooks and ditches of the
+neighbourhood of Orange. In his enthusiasm he tried to convince him of the
+immense interest of these researches, which might perhaps seem ridiculous
+or futile to him; but let him only think of geology; the humblest shell
+picked up might throw a sudden light upon the formation of this or that
+stratum. None are to be disdained: for men have considered, with reason,
+that they were honouring the memory of their eminent fellows by giving
+their names to the rarest and most beautiful. Witness the magnificent Helix
+dedicated to Raspail, which is found only in the caverns where the
+strawberry-tree grows amid the high mountains of Corsica. (3/4.)
+
+Moreover, he said, "the infinitesimal calculus of Leibnitz will show you
+that the architecture of the Louvre is less learned than that of a snail:
+the eternal geometer has unrolled his transcendent spirals on the shell of
+the mollusc that you, like the vulgar profane, know only seasoned with
+spinach and Dutch cheese." (3/5.)
+
+For all that, he did not neglect his mathematics, in which, on the
+contrary, he found abundant and suggestive recreation. The properties of a
+figure or a curve which he had newly discovered prevented his sleep for
+several nights.
+
+"All this morning I have been busy with star-shaped polygons, and have
+proceeded from surprise to surprise...perceiving in the distance, as I
+advanced, unforeseen and marvellous consequences."
+
+Here, among others, is one question which suddenly presented itself to his
+mind "in the midst of the spikes" of his polygons: what would be the period
+of the rotation of the sun on its own centre if its atmosphere reached as
+far as the earth? And this question gave rise to another, "without which
+the sequence stops then and there; number, space, movement, and order form
+a single chain, the first link of which sets all the rest in motion."
+(3/6.) And the hours went by quickly, so quickly with "x," the plants and
+the shells, that "literally there was no time to eat."
+
+For Fabre was born a poet, and mathematics borders upon poetry; he saw in
+algebra "the most magnificent flights," and the figures of analytical
+geometry unrolled themselves in his imagination "in superb strophes"; the
+Ellipse, "the trajectory of the planets, with its two related foci, sending
+from one to the other a constant sum of vector radii"; the Hyperbole, "with
+repulsive foci, the desperate curve which plunges into space in infinite
+tentacles, approaching closer and closer to a straight line, the asymptote,
+without ever finally attaining it"; the Parabola, "which seeks fruitlessly
+in the infinite for its second, lost centre: it is the trajectory of the
+bomb: it is the path of certain comets which come one day to visit our sun,
+then flee into the depths whence they never return." (3/7.)
+
+And one fine morning we behold him mounting, thrilled by a lyric passion,
+to the lofty regions in which Number, "irresistible, omnipotent, keystone
+of the vault of the universe, rules at once Time and Space." He ascends, he
+rushes forward, farther than the chariot--
+
+"Beyond the Husbandman who ploughs in space
+And sows the suns in furrows of the skies."
+
+He ascends those tracks of flame, where on high
+
+ "in those lists inane
+Wise regulator, Number holds the reins
+ Of those indomitable steeds;
+Number has set a bit i' the foaming mouths
+Of these Leviathans, and with nervous hand
+ Controls them in their tracks;
+
+Their smoking flanks beneath the yoke in vain
+Quiver; their nostrils vainly void as foam
+Dense tides of lava; and in vain they rear;
+For Number on their mettled haunches poised
+Holds them, or duly with the rein controls,
+Or in their flanks buries his spur divine." (3/8.)
+
+Later he confessed all that he owed, as a writer, to geometry, whose severe
+discipline forms and exercises the mind, gives it the salutary habit of
+precision and lucidity, and puts it on its guard against terms which are
+incorrect or unduly vague, giving it qualities far superior to all the
+"tropes of rhetoric."
+
+It was then that he became the pupil of Requien of Avignon, the retired
+botanist, a lofty but somewhat limited mind, who was hardly capable of
+opening up other horizons to him. But Requien did at least enrich his
+memory by a prodigious quantity of names of plants with which he had not
+been acquainted. He revealed to him the immense flora of Corsica, which he
+himself had come to study, and for which Fabre was to gather such a vast
+amount of material.
+
+Fabre found in Requien more especially a friend "proof against anything";
+and when the latter died almost suddenly at Bonifacio, Fabre was
+overwhelmed by the sad news. On that very day he had on the table before
+him a parcel of plants gathered for the dead botanist. "I cannot let my
+eyes rest upon it," he wrote at the time, "without feeling my heart wrung
+and my sight dim with tears." (3/9.)
+
+But the most admirably fruitful encounter, as it exercised the profoundest
+influence upon his destiny, was his meeting with Moquin-Tandon, a Toulouse
+professor who followed Requien to Corsica, to complete the work which the
+latter had left unfinished: the complete inventory of the prodigious wealth
+of vegetation, of the innumerable species and varieties which Fabre and he
+collected together, on the slopes and summits of Monte Renoso, often
+botanizing "up in the clouds, mantle on back and numb with cold." (3/10.)
+
+Moquin-Tandon was not merely a skilful naturalist; he was one of the most
+eloquent and scholarly scientists of his time. Fabre owed to him, not his
+genius, to be sure, but the definite indication of the path he was finally
+to take, and from which he was never again to stray.
+
+Moquin-Tandon, a brilliant writer and "an ingenious poet in his
+Montpellerian dialect," (3/11.) taught Fabre never to forget the value of
+style and the importance of form, even in the exposition of a purely
+descriptive science such as botany. He did even more, by one day suddenly
+showing Fabre, between the fruit and the cheese, "in a plate of water," the
+anatomy of the snail. This was his first introduction to his true destiny
+before the final revelation of which I shall presently speak. Fabre
+understood then and there that he could do decidedly better than to stick
+to mathematics, though his whole career would feel the effects of that
+study.
+
+"Geometers are made; naturalists are born ready-made," he wrote to his
+brother, still excited by this incident, "and you know better than any one
+whether natural history is not my favourite science." (3/12.)
+
+>From that time forward he began to collect not only dead, inert, or
+dessicated forms, mere material for study, with the aim of satisfying his
+curiosity; he began to dissect with ardour, a thing he had never done
+before. He housed his tiny guests in his cupboard; and occupied himself, as
+he was always to do in the future, with the smaller living creatures only.
+
+"I am dissecting the infinitely little; my scalpels are tiny daggers which
+I make myself out of fine needles; my marble slab is the bottom of a
+saucer; my prisoners are lodged by the dozen in old match-boxes; maxime
+miranda in minimis." (3/13.)
+
+Roaming at night along the marshy beaches, he contracted fever, and several
+terrible attacks, accompanied by alarming tremors, left him so bloodless
+and feeble that, much against his will, he had to beg for relief, and even
+insist upon his prompt return to the mainland. in the meantime he obtained
+sick-leave, and returned to Provence after a terrible crossing which lasted
+no less than three days and two nights, on a sea so furious that he gave
+himself up for lost. (3/14.)
+
+Slowly he recovered his health, and after a second but brief stay at
+Ajaccio he received the news of his appointment to the lycée of Avignon.
+(3/15.)
+
+He returned with his imagination enriched and his mind expanded, with
+settled ideas, and thoroughly ripe for his task.
+
+
+CHAPTER 4. AT AVIGNON.
+
+The resolute worker resumed his indefatigable labours with an ardour
+greater than ever, for now he was haunted by a noble ambition, that of
+becoming a teacher of the superior grade, and of "talking plants and
+animals" in a chair of the faculty. With this end in view he added to his
+two diplomas--those of mathematics and physics--a third certificate, that
+of natural sciences. His success was triumphant.
+
+Already tenacious and fearless in affirming what he believed to be the
+truth, he astonished and bewildered the professors of Toulouse. Among the
+subjects touched upon by the examiners was the famous question of
+spontaneous generation, which was then so vital, and which gave rise to so
+many impassioned discussions. The examiner, as it chanced, was one of the
+leading apostles of this doctrine. The future adversary of Darwin, at the
+risk of failure, did not scruple to argue with him, and to put forward his
+personal convictions and his own arguments. He decided the vexed question
+in his own way, on his own responsibility. A personality already so
+striking was regarded with admiration; a candidate so far out of the
+ordinary was welcomed with enthusiasm, and but for the insufficiency of the
+budget which so scantily met the needs of public instruction his
+examination fees would have been returned. (4/1.)
+
+Why, after this brilliant success, was Fabre not tempted to enter himself
+for a fellowship, which would later in his career have averted so many
+disappointments? It was doubtless because he felt, obscurely, that his
+ideal future lay along other lines, and that he would have been taking a
+wrong turning. Despite all the solicitations which were addressed to him he
+would think of nothing but "his beloved studies in natural history" (4/2.);
+he feared to lose precious time in preparing himself for a competitive
+examination; "to compromise by such labour, which he felt would be
+fruitless" (4/3.), the studies which he had already commenced, and the
+inquiries already carried out in Corsica. He was busy with his first
+original labours, the theses which he was preparing with a view to his
+doctorate in natural science, "which might one day open the doors of a
+faculty for him, far more easily than would a fellowship and its
+mathematics." (4/4.)
+
+At heart he was utterly careless of dignities and degrees. He worked only
+to learn, not to attain and follow up a settled calling. What he hoped
+above all was to succeed in devoting all his leisure to those marvellous
+natural sciences in which he could vaguely foresee studies full of
+interest; something animated and vital; a thousand fascinating themes, and
+an atmosphere of poetry.
+
+His genius, as yet invisible, was ripening in obscurity, but was ready to
+come forth; he lacked only the propitious circumstance which would allow
+him to unfold his wings.
+
+He was seeking them in vain when a volume by Léon Dufour, the famous
+entomologist, who then lived in the depths of the Landes, fell by chance
+into his hands, and lit the first spark of that beacon which was presently
+to decide the definite trend of his ideas.
+
+It was this incident which then and there developed the germs already
+latent within him. These had only awaited such an occasion as that which so
+fortunately came to pass one evening of the winter of 1854.
+
+Fabre offers yet another example of the part so often played by chance in
+the manifestations of talent. How many have suddenly felt the unexpected
+awakening of gifts which they did not suspect, as a result of some unusual
+circumstance!
+
+Was it not simply as a result of having read a note by the Russian chemist
+Mitscherlich on the comparison of the specific characteristics of certain
+crystals that Pasteur so enthusiastically took up his researches into
+molecular asymmetry which were the starting-point of so many wonderful
+discoveries?
+
+Again, we need only recall the case of Brother Huber, the celebrated
+observer of the bee, who, having out of simple curiosity undertaken to
+verify certain experiments of Réaumur's, was so completely and immediately
+fascinated by the subject that it became the object of the rest of his
+life.
+
+Again, we may ask what Claude Bernard would have been had he not met
+Magendie? Similarly Léon Dufour's little work was to Fabre the road to
+Damascus, the electric impulse which decided his vocation.
+
+It dealt with a very singular fact concerning the manners of one of the
+hymenoptera, a wasp, a Cerceris, in whose nest Dufour had found small
+coleoptera of the genus Buprestis, which, under all the appearances of
+death, retained intact for an incredible time their sumptuous costume,
+gleaming with gold, copper, and emerald, while the tissues remained
+perfectly fresh. In a word, the victims of Cerceris, far from being
+desiccated or putrefied, were found in a state of integrity which was
+altogether paradoxical.
+
+Dufour merely believed that the Buprestes were dead, and he gave an
+attempted explanation of the phenomenon.
+
+Fabre, his curiosity and interest aroused, wished to observe the facts for
+himself; and, to his great surprise, he discovered how incomplete and
+insufficiently verified were the observations of the man who was at that
+time known as "the patriarch of entomologists."
+
+>From that moment he saw his way ahead; he suspected that there was still
+much to discover and much to revise in this vast department of nature, and
+conceived the idea of resuming the work so splendidly outlined by Réaumur
+and the two Hubers, but almost completely neglected since the days of those
+illustrious masters. He divined that here were fresh pastures, a vast
+unexplored country to be opened up, an entire unimagined science to be
+founded, wonderful secrets to be discovered, magnificent problems to be
+solved, and he dreamed of consecrating himself unreservedly, of employing
+his whole life in the pursuit of this object; that long life whose fruitful
+activity was to extend over nearly ninety years, and which was to be so
+"representative" by the dignity of the man, the probity of the expert, the
+genius of the observer, and the originality of the writer.
+
+The year 1855 saw the first appearance, in the "Annales des sciences
+naturelles," of the famous memoir which marked the beginning of his fame:
+the history, which might well be called marvellous and incredible, of the
+great Cerceris, a giant wasp and "the finest of the Hymenoptera which hunt
+for booty at the foot of Mont Ventoux." (4/5.)
+
+Fabre was now thirty-two years old, and his situation as assistant-
+professor of physics was somewhat precarious. From the 72 pounds sterling
+which he drew at Ajaccio, an overseas post, his salary was reduced, on his
+return to the mainland, to 64 pounds sterling, and during the whole of his
+stay at Avignon he obtained neither promotion nor the smallest increase of
+pay, excepting a few additional profits which were unconnected with his
+habitual duties. When he left the university after twenty well-filled
+years, he left as he had entered, with the same title, rank, and salary of
+a mere assistant-professor.
+
+Yet all about him "everywhere and for every one, all was black indeed": his
+family had increased and therewith his expenses; there were now seven at
+table every day. Very shortly his modest salary would no longer suffice; he
+was obliged to supplement it by all sorts of hack-work--classes,
+"repetitions," private lessons; tasks which repelled him, for they absorbed
+all his available time; they prevented him from giving himself up to his
+favourite studies, to his silent and solitary observations. Nevertheless,
+he acquitted himself of these duties patiently and conscientiously, for at
+heart he loved his profession, and was rather a fellow-disciple than a
+master to his pupils. For this reason all those about him worked with
+praiseworthy assiduity; even the worst elements, the black sheep, the "bad
+eggs" of other classes, with him were suddenly transformed and as attentive
+as the rest. Although he knew how to keep order, how to make himself
+respected, and could on occasion deal severely and speak sternly, so that
+very few dared to forget themselves before him, he knew also how to be
+merry with his pupils, chatting with them familiarly, putting himself in
+their place, entering into their ideas, and making himself their rival. If
+life was laborious under his ferula, it was also merry. The best proof of
+this is the fact that of all his colleagues at the lycée he was the only
+one who had no nickname, a rarity in scholastic annals.
+
+He did not therefore object to these lessons; but while at Carpentras he
+was made much of and praised by the principal, was a general favourite, and
+had perfect liberty to follow his inspiration during his partly gratuitous
+classes, here the hours and the programme tied him down, which was
+precisely what he found insupportable.
+
+Everything made things difficult for him here: his external self; his
+character, ever so little shy and unsocial; his temperament, which was made
+for solitude.
+
+In the thick of this hierarchical society of university professors he
+remained independent; he knew nothing of what was said or what was
+happening in the college, and his colleagues were always better informed
+than he. (4/6.) As he was not a fellow, he was made to feel the fact and
+was treated as a subordinate; the others, who prided themselves on the
+title, and who were incapable of recognizing his merit, which was a little
+beyond them, were jealous of him, all the more inasmuch as his name was
+momentarily noised abroad, and they revenged themselves by calling him "the
+fly" among themselves, by way of allusion to his favourite subject. (4/7.)
+
+Indifferent to distinctions, as well as to those who bore them,
+contemptuous of etiquette, and incapable of putting constraint upon his
+nature, he remained an "outsider," and refused to comply with a host of
+factitious or worldly obligations which he regarded as useless or
+disgusting. Thus even at Ajaccio he managed to escape the customary
+ceremonies of New Year's Day.
+
+"Good society I avoid as much as possible; I prefer my own company. So I
+have seen no one; I did not respond to the principal's invitation to make
+the official round of visits." (4/8.)
+
+When obliged to accept some invitation, apart from occasions of too great
+solemnity, when he was really constrained to dress himself in the complete
+livery of circumstance and ceremony, he remained faithful to his black felt
+hat, which made a blot among all the carefully polished "toppers" of his
+colleagues. He was called to order; he was reprimanded; he obeyed
+unwillingly, or worse, he resisted; he revolted, and threatened to send in
+his resignation. To pay court to people, to endeavour to make himself
+pleasant, to grovel before a superior, were to him impossibilities. He
+could neither solicit, nor sail with the wind, nor force himself on others,
+nor even make use of his relations.
+
+However, when he went to Paris to take his doctor's degree in natural
+sciences, he did not forget Moquin-Tandon, who had formerly, in Corsica,
+revealed to him the nature of biology, and whom he himself had received and
+entertained in his humble home.
+
+The ex-professor of Toulouse, who was now eminent in his speciality,
+occupied the chair of natural history in the faculty of medicine in Paris.
+What better occasion could he wish of introducing himself to a highly
+placed official? Fabre had formerly been his host; he could recall the
+happy hours they had spent together; he could explain his plans, and ask
+for the professor's assistance! Fate pointed to him as a protector. But if
+Fabre had been capable of climbing the professor's stairs with some such
+ambitious desires, he would quickly have been disabused.
+
+The "dear master" had long ago forgotten the little professor of Ajaccio,
+and his welcome was by no means such as Fabre had the right to expect. Far
+from insisting, he was disheartened, perhaps a little humiliated, and
+hastened to take his leave.
+
+The theses which Fabre brought with him, and which, he had thought, ought
+to lead him one day to a university professorship, did not, as a matter of
+fact, contain anything very essentially original.
+
+He had been attracted, indeed fascinated, by all the singularities
+presented by the strange family of the orchids; the asymmetry of their
+blossoms, the unusual structure of their pollen, and their innumerable
+seeds; but as for the curious rounded and duplicated tubercles which many
+of them bore at their base, what precisely were they? The greatest
+botanists--de Candolle, A. de Jussieu--had perceived in them nothing more
+than roots. Fabre demonstrated in his thesis that these singular organs are
+in reality merely buds, true branches or shoots, modified and disguised,
+analogous to the metamorphosed tubercle of the potato. (4/9.)
+
+He added also a curious memoir on the phosphorescence of the agaric of the
+olive-tree, a phenomenon to which he was to return at a later date.
+
+In the field of zoology his scalpel revealed the complicated structure of
+the reproductive organs of the Centipedes (Millepedes), hitherto so
+confused and misunderstood; as also certain peculiarities of the
+development of these curious creatures, so interesting from the point of
+view of the zoological philosopher (4/10.), for he had become expert in
+handling not only the magnifying glass, which was always with him, but also
+the microscope, which discovers so many infinite wonders in the lowest
+creatures, yet which was not of particular service in any of the beautiful
+observations upon which his fame is built.
+
+Returning to Avignon, in the possession of his new degree, he commenced an
+important task which took him nearly twenty years to complete: a
+painstaking treatise on the Sphaeriaceae of Vaucluse, that singular family
+of fungi which cover fallen leaves and dead twigs with their blackish
+fructifications; a remarkable piece of work, full of the most valuable
+documentation, as were the theses whose subjects I have just detailed; but
+without belittling the fame of their author, one may say that another, in
+his place, might have acquitted himself as well.
+
+Although he continued to undertake researches of limited interest and
+importance, although he persisted in dissecting plants, and, although he
+disliked it, in "disembowelling animals," the fact was that apart from
+Thursdays and Sundays it was scarcely possible for him to escape from his
+week's work; hardly possible to snatch sufficient leisure to undertake the
+studies toward which he felt himself more particularly drawn. Tied down by
+his duties, which held him bound to a discipline that only left him brief
+moments, and by the forced hack-work imposed upon him by the necessity of
+earning his daily bread, he had scarcely any time for observation excepting
+vacations and holidays.
+
+Then he would hasten to Carpentras, happy to hold the key to the meadows,
+and wander across country and along the sunken lanes, collecting his
+beautiful insects, breathing the free air, the scent of the vines and
+olives, and gazing upon Mont Ventoux, close at hand, whose silver summit
+would now be hidden in the clouds and now would glitter in the rays of the
+sun.
+
+Carpentras was not merely the country in which his wife's parents dwelt: it
+was, above all, a unique and privileged home for insects; not on account of
+its flora, but because of the soil, a kind of limestone mingled with sand
+and clay, a soft marl, in which the burrowing hymenoptera could easily
+establish their burrows and their nests. Certain of them, indeed, lived
+only there, or at least it would have been extremely difficult to find them
+elsewhere; such was the famous Cerceris; such again, was the yellow-winged
+Sphex, that other wasp which so artistically stabs and paralyses the
+cricket, "the brown violinist of the clods."
+
+At Carpentras too the Anthophorae lived in abundance; those wild bees with
+whom the vexed and enigmatic history of the Sitaris and the Meloë is bound
+up; those little beetles, cousins of the Cantharides, whose complex
+metamorphoses and astonishing and peculiar habits have been revealed by
+Fabre. This memoir marked the second stage of his scientific career, and
+followed, at an interval of two years, the magnificent observations on the
+Cerceris.
+
+These two studies, true masterpieces of science, already constituted two
+excellent titles to fame, and would by themselves have sufficed to fill a
+naturalist's whole lifetime and to make his name illustrious.
+
+>From that time forward he had no peer. The Institute awarded him one of its
+Montyon prizes (4/11.), "an honour of which, needless to say, he had never
+dreamed." (4/12.) Darwin, in his celebrated work on the "Origin of
+Species," which appeared precisely at this moment, speaks of Fabre
+somewhere as "the inimitable observer." (4/13.)
+
+Exploring the immediate surroundings of Avignon, he very soon discovered
+fresh localities frequented almost exclusively by other insects, whose
+habits in their turn absorbed his whole attention.
+
+First of these was the sandy plateau of the Angles, where every spring, in
+the sunlit pastures so beloved of the sheep, the Scarabaeus sacer, with his
+incurved feet and clumsy legs, commences to roll his everlasting pellet,
+"to the ancients the image of the world." His history, since the time of
+the Pharaohs, had been nothing but a tissue of legends; but stripping it of
+the embroidery of fiction, and referring it to the facts of nature, Fabre
+demonstrated that the true story is even more marvellous than all the tales
+of ancient Egypt. He narrated its actual life, the object of its task, and
+its comical and exhilarating performances. But such is the subtlety of
+these delicate and difficult researches that nearly forty years were
+required to complete the study of its habits and to solve the mystery of
+its cradle. (4/14.)
+
+On the right bank of the Rhône, facing the embouchure of the Durance, is a
+small wood of oak-trees, the wood of Des Issarts. This again, for many
+reasons, was one of his favourite spots. There, "lying flat on the ground,
+his head in the shadow of some rabbit's burrow," or sheltered from the sun
+by a great umbrella, "while the blue-winged locusts frisked for joy," he
+would follow the rapid and sibilant flight of the elegant Bembex, carrying
+their daily ration of diptera to her larvae, at the bottom of her burrow,
+deep in the fine sand." (4/15.)
+
+He did not always go thither alone: sometimes, on Sundays, he would take
+his pupils with him, to spend a morning in the fields, "at the ineffable
+festival of the awakening of life in the spring." (4/16.)
+
+Those most dear to him, those who in the subsequent years have remained the
+object of a special affection, were Devillario, Bordone, and Vayssières
+(4/17.), "young people with warm hearts and smiling imaginations,
+overflowing with that springtime sap of life which makes us so expansive
+and so eager to know.
+
+Among them he was "the eldest, their master, but still more their companion
+and friend"; lighting in them his own sacred fire, and amazing them by the
+deftness of his fingers and the acuteness of his lynx-like eyes. Furnished
+with a notebook and all the tools of the naturalist--lens, net, and little
+boxes of sawdust steeped in anaesthetic for the capture of rare specimens--
+they would wander "along the paths bordered with hawthorn and hyaebla,
+simple and childlike folk," probing the bushes, scratching up the sand,
+raising stones, running the net along hedge and meadow, with explosions of
+delight when they made some splendid capture or discovered some unrecorded
+marvel of the entomological world.
+
+It was not only on the banks of the Rhône or the sandy plateau of Avignon
+that they sought adventure thus, "discussing things and other things," but
+as far as the slopes of Mont Ventoux, for which Fabre had always felt an
+inexplicable and invincible attraction, and whose ascent he accomplished
+more than twenty times, so that at last he knew all its secrets, all the
+gamut of its vegetation, the wealth of the varied flora which climb its
+flanks from base to summit, and which range "from the scarlet flowers of
+the pomegranate to the violet of Mont Cenis and the Alpine forget-me-not"
+(4/18.), as well as the antediluvian fauna revealed amid its entrails, a
+vast ossuary rich in fossils.
+
+His disciples, all of whom, without exception, regarded him with absolute
+worship, have retained the memory of his wit, his enthusiasm, his geniality
+and his infectious gaiety, and also of the singular uncertainty of his
+temperament; for on some days he would not speak a word from the beginning
+to the end of his walk.
+
+Even his temper, ordinarily gentle and easy, would suddenly become hasty
+and violent, and would break out into terrible explosions when a sudden
+annoyance set him beside himself; for instance, when he was the butt of
+some ill-natured trick, or when, in spite of the lucidity of his
+explanations, he felt that he had not been properly understood. Perhaps he
+inherited this from his mother, a rebellious, crotchety, somewhat fantastic
+person, by whose temper he himself had suffered.
+
+But the young people who surrounded him were far from being upset by these
+contrasts of temperament, in which they themselves saw nothing but natural
+annoyance, and the corollary, as it were, of his abounding vitality.
+(4/19.)
+
+It was because he was the only university teacher in Avignon to occupy
+himself with entomology that Pasteur visited him in 1865. The illustrious
+chemist had been striving to check the plague that was devastating the
+silkworm nurseries, and as he knew nothing of the subject which he proposed
+to study, not even understanding the constitution of the cocoon or the
+evolution of the silkworm, he sought out Fabre in order to obtain from his
+store of entomological wisdom the elementary ideas which he would find
+indispensable. Fabre has told us, in a moving page (4/20), with what a
+total lack of comprehension of "poverty in a black coat" the great
+scientist gazed at his poor home. Preoccupied by another problem, that of
+the amelioration of wines by means of heat, Pasteur asked him point-blank--
+him, the humble proletarian of the university caste, who drank only the
+cheapest wine of the country--to show him his cellar. "My cellar! Why not
+my vaults, my dusty bottles, labelled according to age and vintage! But
+Pasteur insisted. Then, pointing with my finger, I showed him, in a corner
+of the kitchen, a chair with all the straw gone, and on this chair a two-
+gallon demijohn: 'There is my cave, monsieur!'"
+
+If the country professor was embarrassed by the chilliness of the other, he
+was none the less shocked by his attitude. It would seem, from what Fabre
+has said, that Pasteur treated him with a hauteur which was slightly
+disdainful. The ignorant genius questioned his humble colleague, distantly
+giving him his orders, explaining his plans and his ideas, and informing
+him in what directions he required assistance.
+
+After this, we cannot be surprised if the naturalist was silent. How could
+sympathetic relations have survived this first meeting? Fabre could not
+forgive it. His own character was too independent to accommodate itself to
+Pasteur's. Yet never, perhaps, were two men made for a better
+understanding. They were equally expert in exercising their admirable
+powers of vision in the vast field of nature, equally critical of self,
+equally careful never to depart from the strict limits of the facts; and
+they were, one may say, equally eminent in the domain of invention,
+different though their fortunes may have been; for the sublimity of
+scientific discoveries, however full of genius they may be, is often
+measured only by the immediate consequences drawn therefrom and the
+practical importance of their results.
+
+In reality, were they not two rivals, worthy of being placed side by side
+in the paradise of sages? Both of them, the one by demolishing the theory
+of spontaneous generation, the other by refuting the mechanical theory of
+the origin of instincts, have brought into due prominence the great unknown
+and mysterious forces which seem destined to hold eternally in suspense the
+profound enigma of life.
+
+Now he was anxious not to leave the Vaucluse district, the scene of his
+first success, and a place so fruitful in subjects of study. He wished to
+remain close to his insects, and also near the precious library and the
+rich collections which Requien had left by will to the town of Avignon. In
+spite of the meagreness of his salary, he asked for nothing more; and, what
+is more, by an inconsequence which is by no means incomprehensible, he
+avoided everything that might have resulted in a more profitable position
+elsewhere, and evaded all proposals of further promotion. Twice, at
+Poitiers and Marseilles, he refused a post as assistant professor, not
+regarding the advantages sufficient to balance the expenses of removal.
+(4/21.)
+
+It is true that his modest position was slightly improved; at the lycée he
+had just been appointed drawing-master, thanks to his knowledge of design,
+for he could draw--indeed, what could he not do? The city, on the other
+hand, appointed him conservator of the Requien Museum, and presently
+municipal lecturer, so that his earnings were increased by 48 pounds
+sterling per annum, and he was at last able to abandon "those abominable
+private lessons" (4/22.), which the insufficiency of his income had
+hitherto forced him to accept. These new duties, which naturally demanded
+much time and much labour, kept him almost as badly tied as he had been
+before.
+
+To be rich enough to set himself free; to be master of all his time, to be
+able to devote himself entirely to his chosen work: this was his dream, his
+constant preoccupation: it haunted him; it was a fixed idea.
+
+Such was the principal motive of his inquiry into the properties of madder,
+the colouring principle of which he succeeded in extracting directly, by a
+perfectly simple method, which for a time very advantageously replaced the
+extremely primitive methods of the old dyers, who used a simple extract of
+madder; a crude preparation which necessitated long and expensive
+manipulations. (4/23.)
+
+He had been working at this for eight years when Victor Duruy, Minister of
+Public Instruction and Grand Master of the University, came to surprise him
+in his laboratory at Saint-Martial, in the full fever of research. Whatever
+was Duruy's idea in entering into relations with him, it seems that from
+their first meeting the two men were really taken with one another: there
+were, between them, so many close affinities of taste and character. Duruy
+found in Fabre a man of his own temper; for his, like Fabre's, was a modest
+and simple nature. Both came of the people, and the principal motive of
+each was the same ideal of work, emancipation, and progress.
+
+A little later Duruy summoned the modest sage of Avignon to Paris, with
+particular insistence; he was full of attentions and of forethought, and
+made him there and then a chevalier of the Legion of Honour; a distinction
+of which Fabre was far from being proud, and which he was careful never to
+obtrude; but he nevertheless always thought of it with a certain
+tenderness, as a beloved "relic" in memory of this illustrious friend.
+
+On the following day the naturalist was conveyed to the Tuileries to be
+presented to the Emperor. You must not suppose that he was in the least
+disturbed at the idea of finding himself face to face with royalty. In the
+presence of all these bedizened folk, in his coat of a cut which was
+doubtless already superannuated, he cared little for the impression he
+might produce. As good an observer of men as of beasts, he gazed quietly
+about him; he exchanged a few words with the Emperor, who was "quite
+simple," almost suppressed, his eyes always half-closed; he watched the
+coming and going of "the chamberlains with short breeches and silver-
+buckled shoes, great scarabaei, clad with café au lait wing-cases, moving
+with a formal gait." Already he sighed regretfully; he was bored; he was on
+the rack, and for nothing in the world would he have repeated the
+experience. He did not even feel the least desire to visit the vaunted
+collections of the Museum. He longed to return; to find himself once more
+among his dear insects; to see his grey olive-trees, full of the frolicsome
+cicadae, his wastes and commons, which smelt so sweet of thyme and cypress;
+above all, to return to his furnace and retorts, in order to complete his
+discovery as quickly as possible.
+
+But others profited by his happy conceptions. Like the cicada, the Cigale
+of his fable (See "Social Life in the Insect World," by Jean-Henri Fabre
+(T. Fisher Unwin, 1912).), which makes a "honeyed reek" flow from--
+
+ "the bark
+Tender and juicy, of the bough,"
+
+on which it is quickly supplanted by
+
+"Fly, drone, wasp, beetle too with hornèd head" (4/24.),
+
+who
+
+"Now lick their honey'd lips, and feed at leisure,"
+
+so, after he had painfully laboured for twelve years in his well, he saw
+others, more cunning than he, come to his perch, who by dint of "stamping
+on his toe," succeeded in ousting him. Pending the appearance of artificial
+alizarine, which was presently to turn the whole madder industry upside
+down, these more sophisticated persons were able to benefit at leisure by
+the ingenious processes discovered by Fabre, so that the practical result
+of so much assiduity, so much patient research, was absolutely nil, and he
+found himself as poor as ever.
+
+So faded his dream: and, if we except his domestic griefs, this was
+certainly the deepest and cruellest disappointment he had ever experienced.
+
+Thenceforth he saw his salvation only in the writing of textbooks, which
+were at last to throw open the door of freedom. Already he had set to work,
+under the powerful stimulus of Duruy, preoccupied as he always was by his
+incessant desire for freedom. The first rudiments of his "Agricultural
+Chemistry," which sounded so fresh a note in the matter of teaching, had
+given an instance and a measure of his capabilities.
+
+But he did not seriously devote himself to this project until after the
+industrial failure and the distressing miscarriage of his madder process;
+and not until he had been previously assured of the co-operation of Charles
+Delagrave, a young publisher, whose fortunate intervention contributed in
+no small degree to his deliverance. Confident in his vast powers of work,
+and divining his incomparable talent as POPULARIZER, Delagrave felt that he
+could promise Fabre that he would never leave him without work; and this
+promise was all the more comforting, in that the University, despite his
+twenty-eight years of assiduous service, would not accord him the smallest
+pension.
+
+Victor Duruy was the great restorer of education in France, from elementary
+and primary education, which should date, from his great ministry, the era
+of its deliverance, to the secondary education which he himself created in
+every part. He was also the real initiator of secular instruction in
+France, and the Third Republic has done little but resume his work, develop
+his ideas, and extend his programme. Finally, by instituting classes for
+adults, the evening classes which enabled workmen, peasants, bourgeois, and
+young women to fill the gaps in their education, he gave reality to the
+generous and fruitful idea that it is possible for all to divide life into
+two parts, one having for its object our material needs and our daily
+bread, and the other consecrated to the spiritual life and the delights of
+the Ideal.
+
+At the same time he emancipated the young women of France, formerly under
+the exclusive tutelage of the clergy, and opened to them for the first time
+the golden gates of knowledge; an audacious innovation, and formidable
+withal, for it shrewdly touched the interests of the Church, struck a blow
+at her ever-increasing influence, and clashed with her consecrated
+privileges and age-long prejudices. (4/25.)
+
+At Avignon Fabre was instructed to give his personal services. He gave them
+with all his heart; and it was then that he undertook, in the ancient Abbey
+of Saint-Martial, those famous free lectures which have remained celebrated
+in the memory of that generation. There, under the ancient Gothic vault,
+among the pupils of the primary Normal College, an eager crowd of listeners
+pressed to hear him; and among the most assiduous was Roumanille, the
+friend of Mistral, he who so exquisitely wove into his harmonies "the
+laughter of young maidens and the flowers of springtime." No one expounded
+a fact better than Fabre; no one explained it so fully and so clearly. No
+one could teach as he did, in a fashion so simple, so animated, so
+picturesque, and by methods so original.
+
+He was indeed convinced that even in early childhood it was possible for
+both boys and girls to learn and to love many subjects which had hitherto
+never been proposed; and in particular that Natural History which to him
+was a book in which all the world might read, but that university methods
+had reduced it to a tedious and useless study in which the letter "killed
+the life."
+
+He knew the secret of communicating his conviction, his profound faith, to
+his hearers: that sacred fire which animated him, that passion for all the
+creatures of nature.
+
+These lectures took place in the evening, twice a week, alternately with
+the municipal lectures, to which Fabre brought no less application and
+ardour. In the intention of those who instituted them these latter were
+above all to be practical and scientific, dealing with science applied to
+agriculture, the arts, and industry.
+
+But might he not also expect auditors of another quality, in love only with
+the ideal, "who, without troubling about the possible applications of
+scientific theory, desired above all to be initiated into the action of the
+forces which rule nature, and thereby to open to their minds more wondrous
+horizons"?
+
+Such were the noble scruples which troubled his conscience, and which
+appeared in the letter which he addressed to the administration of the
+city, when he was entrusted by the latter with what he regarded as a lofty
+and most important mission.
+
+"...Is it to be understood that every purely scientific aspect, incapable
+of immediate application, is to be rigorously banished from these lessons?
+Is it to be understood that, confined to an impassable circle, the value of
+every truth must be reckoned at so much per hundred, and that I must
+silently pass over all that aims only at satisfying a laudable desire of
+knowledge? No, gentlemen, for then these lectures would lack a very
+essential thing: the spirit which gives life!" (4/26.)
+
+Physically, according to the testimony of his contemporaries, he was
+already as an admirable photograph represents him twenty years later: he
+wore a large black felt hat; his face was shaven, the chin strong and
+wilful, the eyes vigilant, deep-set and penetrating; he hardly changed, and
+it was thus I saw him later, at a more advanced age.
+
+The ancient Abbey of Saint-Martial, where these lectures were given, was
+occupied also by the Requien Museum, of which Fabre had charge. It was here
+that he one day met John Stuart Mill.
+
+The celebrated philosopher and economist had just lost his wife: "the most
+precious friendship of his life" was ended. (4/27.) It was only after long
+waiting that he had been able to marry her. Subjected at an early age by a
+father devoid of tenderness and formidably severe to the harshest of
+disciplines, he had learned in childhood "what is usually learned only by a
+man." Scarcely out of his long clothes, he was construing Herodotus and the
+dialogues of Plato, and the whole of his dreary youth was spent in covering
+the vast field of the moral and mathematical sciences. His heart, always
+suppressed, never really expanded until he met Mrs. Harriett Taylor.
+
+This was one of those privileged beings such as seem as a rule to exist
+only in poetry and literature; a woman as beautiful as she was
+astonishingly gifted with the rarest faculties; combining with the most
+searching intelligence and the most persuasive eloquence so exquisite a
+sensitiveness that she seemed often to divine events in advance.
+
+Mill possessed her at last for a few years only, and he had resigned his
+post in the offices of the East India Company to enjoy a studious retreat
+in the enchanted atmosphere of southern Europe when suddenly at Avignon
+Harriett Mill was carried off by a violent illness. (Mill retired in 1858,
+when the government of India passed to the Crown. He had married Mrs. John
+Taylor in 1851. [Tr.])
+
+>From that time the philosopher's horizon was suddenly contracted to the
+limit of those places whence had vanished the adored companion and the
+beneficent genius who had been the sole charm of his entire existence.
+Overwhelmed with grief, he acquired a small country house in one of the
+least frequented parts of the suburbs of Avignon, close to the cemetery
+where the beloved dead was laid to rest for ever. A silent alley of planes
+and mulberry-trees led to the threshold, which was shaded by the delicate
+foliage of a myrtle. All about he had planted a dense hedge of hawthorn,
+cypress, and arborvitae, above which, from the vantage of a small terrace,
+built, under his orders, at the level of the first floor, he could see, day
+by day and at all hours, the white tomb of his wife, and a little ease his
+grief.
+
+Thus he cloistered himself, "living in memory," having no companion but the
+daughter of his wife; trying to console himself by work, recapitulating his
+life, the story of which he has told in his remarkable "Memoirs." (4/28.)
+
+Fabre paid a few visits to this Thebaïd. A solitary such as Mill had become
+could be attracted only by a man of his temper, in whom he found, if not an
+affinity of nature, at least tastes like his own, and immense learning, as
+great as his. For Mill also was versed in all the branches of human
+knowledge: not only had he meditated on the high problems of history and
+political economy, but he had also probed all branches of science:
+mathematics, physics, and natural history. It was above all botany which
+served them as a bond of union, and they were often seen to set forth on a
+botanizing expedition through the countryside.
+
+This friendship, which was not without profit for Fabre (4/29.), was still
+more precious to Mill, who found, in the society of the naturalist, a
+certain relief from his sorrow. The substance of their conversation was far
+from being such as one might have imagined it. Mill was not highly sensible
+to the festival of nature or the poetry of the fields. He was hardly
+interested in botany, except from the somewhat abstract point of view of
+classification and the systematic arrangement of species. Always
+melancholy, cold, and distant, he spoke little; but Fabre felt under this
+apparent sensibility a rigorous integrity of character, a great capacity
+for devotion, and a rare goodness of heart.
+
+So the two wandered across country, each thinking his own thoughts, and
+each self-contained as though they were walking on parallel but distant
+paths.
+
+However, Fabre was not at the end of his troubles; and secret ill-feeling
+began to surround him. The free lectures at Saint-Martial offended the
+devout, angered the sectaries, and excited the intolerance of the pedants,
+"whose feeble eyelids blink at the daylight," and he was far from
+receiving, from his colleagues at the lycée, the sympathy and encouragement
+which were, at this moment especially, so necessary to him. Some even went
+so far as to denounce him publicly, and he was mentioned one day from the
+height of the pulpit, to the indignation of the pupils of the upper Normal
+College, as a man at once dangerous and subversive.
+
+Some found it objectionable that this "irregular person, this man of
+solitary study," should, by his work and by the magic of his teaching,
+assume a position so unique and so disproportionate. Others regarded the
+novelty of placing the sciences at the disposal of young girls as a heresy
+and a scandal.
+
+Their bickering, their cabals, their secret manoeuvres, were in the long
+run to triumph. Duruy had just succumbed under the incessant attacks of the
+clericals. In him Fabre lost a friend, a protector, and his only support.
+Embittered, defeated, he was now only waiting for a pretext, an incident, a
+mere nothing, to throw up everything.
+
+One fine morning his landladies, devout and aged spinsters, made themselves
+the instruments of the spite of his enemies, and abruptly gave him notice
+to quit. he had to leave before the end of the month, for, simple and
+confident as usual, he had obtained neither a lease nor the least written
+agreement.
+
+At this moment he was so poor that he had not even the money to meet the
+expenses of his removal. The times were troublous: the great war had
+commenced, and Paris being invested he could no longer obtain the small
+earnings which his textbooks were beginning to yield him, and which had for
+some time been increasing his modest earnings. On the other hand, having
+always lived far from all society, he had not at Avignon a single relation
+who could assist him, and he could neither obtain credit nor find any one
+to extricate him from his embarrassments and save him from the extremity of
+need with which he was threatened. He thought of Mill, and in this
+difficult juncture it was Mill who saved him. The philosopher was then in
+England; he was for the time being a member of the House of Commons, and he
+used to vary his life at Avignon by a few weeks' sojourn in London. His
+reply, however, was not long in coming: almost immediately he sent help; a
+sum of some 120 pounds sterling, which fell like manna into the hands of
+Fabre; and he did not, in exchange, demand the slightest security for this
+advance.
+
+Then, filled with disgust, the "irregular person" shook off the yoke and
+retired to Orange. At first he took shelter where he could, anxious only to
+avoid as far as possible any contact with his fellow-men; then, having
+finally discovered a dwelling altogether in conformity with his tastes, he
+moved to the outskirts of the city, and settled at the edge of the fields,
+in the middle of a great meadow, in an isolated house, pleasant and
+commodious, connected with the road to Camaret by a superb avenue of tall
+and handsome plane-trees. This hermitage in some respects recalled that of
+Mill in the outskirts of Avignon; and thence his eyes, embracing a vast
+horizon, from the pediment of the ancient theatre to the hills of Sérignan,
+could already distinguish the promised land.
+
+
+CHAPTER 5. A GREAT TEACHER.
+
+It was in 1871. Fabre had lived twenty years at Avignon. This date
+constitutes an important landmark in his career, since it marks the precise
+moment of his final rupture with the University.
+
+At this time the preoccupations of material life were more pressing than
+ever, and it was then that he devoted himself entirely and with
+perseverance to the writing of those admirable works of introduction and
+initiation, in which he applied himself to rendering science accessible to
+the youngest minds, and employed all his profound knowledge to the thorough
+teaching of its elements and its eternal laws.
+
+To this ungrateful task--ungrateful, but in reality pleasurable, so
+strongly had he the vocation, the feeling, and the genius of the teacher--
+Fabre applied himself thenceforth with all his heart, and for nine years
+never lifted his hand.
+
+How insipid, how forbidding were the usual classbooks, the second-rate
+natural histories above all, stuffed with dry statements, with raw
+knowledge, which brought nothing but the memory into play! How many
+youthful faces had grown pale above them!
+
+What a contrast and a deliverance in these little books of Fabre's, so
+clear, so luminous, so simple, which for the first time spoke to the heart
+and the understanding; for "work which one does not understand disgusts
+one." (5/1.)
+
+To initiate others into science or art, it is not enough to have understood
+them oneself; it is not enough even that one should be an artist or a
+scientist. Scientists of the highest flight are sometimes very unskilful
+teachers, and very indifferent hands at explaining the alphabet. It is not
+given to the first comer to educate the young; to understand how to
+identify his understanding with theirs, to measure their powers. It is a
+matter of instinct and good sense rather than of memory or erudition, and
+Fabre, who had never in his life been the pupil of any one, could better
+than any remember the phases through which his mind had passed, could
+recollect by what detours of the mind, by what secret labours of thought,
+by what intuitive methods he had succeeded in conquering, one by one, all
+the difficulties in his path, and in gradually attaining to knowledge.
+
+It is wonderful to watch the mastery with which he conducts his
+demonstrations, the simplest as well as the most involved, singling out the
+essential, little by little evoking the sense of things, ingeniously
+seeking familiar examples, finding comparisons, and employing picturesque
+and striking images, which throw a dazzling light upon the obscurest
+question or the most difficult problem. How in such matters can one
+dispense with figurative speech, when one is reduced, as a rule, to an
+inability to show the things themselves, but only their images and their
+symbols?
+
+Follow him, for example, in the "The Sky" (5/2.), which seems to thrill
+with the ardent and comprehensive genius of a Humboldt, and admire the ease
+with which he surmounts all the difficulties and smooths the way for the
+vast voyage on which he conducts you, past the infinity of the suns and the
+stars in their millions, scintillating in the cold air of night, to descend
+once more to our humble "Earth" (5/3.); first an ocean of fire, rolling its
+heavy waves of molten porphyry and granite, then "slowly hardening into
+strange floes and bergs, hotter than the red iron in the fire of the
+forge," rounding its back, all covered with gaping pustules, eruptive
+mountains and craters, and the first folds of its calcined crust, until the
+day when the vast mist of densest vapours, heaped up on every hand and of
+immeasurable depth, begins gradually to show rifts, giving rise at last to
+an infinite storm, a stupendous deluge, and forming the strange universal
+sea, "a mineral sludge, veiled by a chaos of smoke," whence at length the
+primitive soil emerges, "and at last the green grass."
+
+And although "a little animal proteid, capable of pleasure and pain,
+surpasses in interest the whole immense creation of dead matter," he does
+not forget to show us the spectacle of life flowing through matter itself;
+and he animates even the simple elementary bodies, celebrating the
+marvellous activities of the air, the violence of Chlorine, the
+metamorphoses of Carbon, the miraculous bridals of Phosphorus, and "the
+splendours which accompany the birth of a drop of water." (5/4.)
+
+A man must indeed love knowledge deeply before he can make others love it,
+or render it easy and attractive, revealing only the smiling highways; and
+Fabre, above all things the impassioned professor, was the very man to lead
+his disciples "between the hedges of hawthorn and sloe," whether to show
+them the sap, "that fruitful current, that flowing flesh, that vegetable
+blood," or how the plant, by a mysterious transubstantiation, makes its
+wood, "and the delicate bundle of swaddling-bands of its buds," or how
+"from a putrid ordure it extracts the flavour and the fragrance of its
+fruits"; or whether he seeks to evoke the murderous plants that live as
+parasites at the cost of others; the white Clandestinus, "which strangles
+the roots of the alders beside the rivers," the Cuscuta, "which knows
+nothing of labour," the wicked Orobanche, plump, powerful and brazen, the
+skin covered with ugly scales, "with sombre flowers that wear the livery of
+death, which leaps at the throat of the clover, stifling it, devouring it,
+sucking its blood." (5/5.)
+
+Botany, by this genial treatment, becomes a most interesting study, and I
+know of no more captivating reading than "The Plant" and "The Story of the
+Log," the jewels of this incomparable series.
+
+Employ Fabre's method if you wish to learn by yourself, or to evoke in your
+children a love of science, and, according to the phrase of the gentle
+Jean-Jacques, to help them "to buy at the best possible of prices." Give
+them as sole guides these exquisite manuals, which touch upon everything,
+initiating them into everything, and bringing within the reach of all, for
+their instruction or amusement, the heavens and the earth, the planets and
+their moons, the mechanism of the great natural forces and the laws which
+govern them, life and its materials, agriculture and its applications. For
+more than a quarter of a century these catechisms of science, models of
+lucidity and good sense, effected the education of generations of
+Frenchmen. Abridgments of all knowledge, veritable codes of rural wisdom,
+these perfect breviaries have never been surpassed.
+
+It was after reading these little books, it is said, that Duruy conceived
+the idea of confiding to this admirable teacher the education of the
+Imperial heir; and it is very probable that this was, in reality, the
+secret motive which would explain why he had so expressly summoned Fabre to
+Paris. What an ideal tutor he had thought of, and how proud might others
+have been of such a choice! But the man was too zealous of his
+independence, too difficult to tame, to bear with the environment of a
+court, and God knows whether he was made for such refulgence! We need not
+be surprised that Fabre never heard of it; it must have sufficed the
+minister to speak with him for a few minutes to realize that the most
+tempting offers and all the powers of seduction would never overcome his
+insurmountable dislike of life in a capital, nor prevail against his
+inborn, passionate, exclusive love of the open.
+
+For these volumes Fabre was at first rather wretchedly paid; at all events,
+until public education had definitely received a fresh impulse; and for a
+long time his life at Orange was literally a hand-to-mouth existence.
+
+As soon as he was able to realize a few advances, he had nothing so much at
+heart as the repayment of Mill, and he hastened to call on the philosopher;
+all the more filled with gratitude for his generosity in that the loan,
+although of the comparatively large amount of three thousand francs, was
+made without security, practically from hand to hand, with no other
+warranty than his probity.
+
+For this reason this episode was always engraven on his memory. Thirty
+years later he would relate the affair even to the most insignificant
+details. How many times has he not reminded me of the transaction,
+insisting that I should make a note of it, so anxious was he that this
+incident in his career should not be lost in oblivion! How often has he not
+recalled the infinite delicacy of Mill, and his excessive scrupulousness,
+which went so far that he wished to give a written acknowledgment of the
+repayment of the debt, of which there was no record whatever save in the
+conscience of the debtor!
+
+Scarcely two years later Mill died suddenly at Avignon. Grief finally
+killed him; for this unexpected death seemed to have been only the ultimate
+climax of the secret malady which had so long been undermining him.
+
+It was in the outskirts of Orange that Fabre for the last time met him and
+accompanied him upon a botanizing expedition. He was struck by his weakness
+and his rapid decline. Mill could hardly drag himself along, and when he
+stooped to gather a specimen he had the greatest difficulty in rising. They
+were never to meet again.
+
+A few days later--on the 8th May, 1873--Fabre was invited to lunch with the
+philosopher. Before going to the little house by the cemetery he halted, as
+was his custom, at the Libraire Saint-Just. It was there that he learned,
+with amazement, of the tragic and sudden event which set a so unexpected
+term to a friendship which was doubtless a little remote, but which was, on
+both sides, a singularly lofty and beautiful attachment.
+
+His class-books were now bringing in scarcely anything; their preparation,
+moreover, involved an excessive expenditure of time, and gave him a great
+deal of trouble; it is impossible to imagine what scrupulous care, what
+zeal and self-respect Fabre brought to the execution of the programme which
+he had to fulfil.
+
+To begin with, he considered that he could not enjoy a more splendid
+opportunity to give children a taste for science and to stimulate their
+curiosity than by finding a means to interest them, from their earliest
+infancy, in their simple playthings, even the crudest and most inexpensive;
+so true is it that "in the smallest mechanical device or engine, even in
+its simplest form, as conceived by the industry of a child, there is often
+the germ of important truths, and, better than books, the school of the
+playroom, if gently disciplined, will open for the child the windows of the
+universe."
+
+"The humble teetotum, made of a crust of rye-bread transfixed by a twig,
+silently spinning on the cover of a school-book, will give a correct enough
+image of the earth, which retains unmoved its original impulse, and travels
+along a great circle, at the same time turning on itself. Gummed on its
+disc, scraps of paper properly coloured will tell us of white light,
+decomposable into various coloured rays...
+
+"There will be the pop-gun, with its ramrod and its two plugs of tow, the
+hinder one expelling the foremost by the elasticity of the compressed air.
+Thus we get a glimpse of the ballistics of gunpowder, and the pressure of
+steam in engines..."
+
+The little hydraulic fountain made of an apricot stone, patiently hollowed
+and pierced with a hole at either side, into which two straws are fitted,
+one dipping into a cup of water and the other duly capped, "expelling a
+slender thread of water in which the sunlight flickers," will introduce us
+to the true syphon of physics.
+
+"What amusing and useful lessons" a well-balanced scheme of education might
+extract from this "academy of childish ingenuity"! (5/6.)
+
+At this time he was undertaking the education of his own children. His
+chemistry lessons especially had a great success. (5/7.) With apparatus of
+his own devising and of the simplest kind, he could perform a host of
+elementary experiments, the apparatus as a rule consisting of the most
+ordinary materials, such as a common flask or bottle, an old mustard-pot, a
+tumbler, a goose-quill or a pipe-stem.
+
+A series of astonishing phenomena amazed their wondering eyes. He made them
+see, touch, taste, handle, and smell, and always "the hand assisted the
+word," always "the example accompanied the precept," for no one more fully
+valued the profound maxim, so neglected and misunderstood, that "to see is
+to know."
+
+He exerted himself to arouse their curiosity, to provoke their questions,
+to discover their mistakes, to set their ideas in order; he accustomed them
+to rectify their errors themselves, and from all this he obtained excellent
+material for his books.
+
+For those more especially intended for the education of girls he took
+counsel with his daughter Antonia, inviting her collaboration, begging her
+to suggest every aspect of the matter that occurred to her; for instance,
+in respect of the chemistry of the household, "where exact science should
+shed its light upon a host of facts relating to domestic economy" (5/8.),
+from the washing of clothes to the making of a stew.
+
+Even now, to his despair, although freed from the cares of school life, he
+was always almost wholly without leisure to devote himself to his chosen
+subjects.
+
+It was at this period above all that he felt so "lonely, abandoned,
+struggling against misfortune; and before one can philosophize one has to
+live." (5/9.)
+
+And his incessant labour was aggravated by a bitter disappointment. In the
+year of Mill's death Fabre was dismissed from his post as conservator of
+the Requien Museum, which he had held in spite of his departure from
+Avignon, going thither regularly twice a week to acquit himself of his
+duties. The municipality, working in the dark, suddenly dismissed him
+without explanation. To Fabre this dismissal was infinitely bitter; "a
+sweeper-boy would have been treated with as much ceremony." (5/10.) What
+afflicted him most was not the undeserved slight of the dismissal, but his
+unspeakable regret at quitting those beloved vegetable collections,
+"amassed with such love" by Requien, who was his friend and master, and by
+Mill and himself; and the thought that he would henceforth perhaps be
+unable to save these precious but perishable things from oblivion, or
+terminate the botanical geography of Vaucluse, on which he had been thirty
+years at work!
+
+For this reason, when there was some talk of establishing an agronomic
+station at Avignon, and of appointing him director, he was at first warmly
+in favour of the idea. (5/11.) Already he foresaw a host of fascinating
+experiments, of the highest practical value, conducted in the peace and
+leisure and security of a fixed appointment. It is indeed probable that in
+so vast a field he would have demonstrated many valuable truths, fruitful
+in practical results; he was certainly meant for such a task, and he would
+have performed it with genuine personal satisfaction. He had already
+exerted his ingenuity by trying to develop, among the children of the
+countryside, a taste for agriculture, which he rightly considered the
+logical complement of the primary school, and which is based upon all the
+sciences which he himself had studied, probed, taught, and popularized.
+
+It will be remembered how patiently he devoted himself for twelve years to
+the study of madder, multiplying his researches, and applying himself not
+only to extracting the colouring principle, but also to indicating means
+whereby adulteration and fraud might be detected.
+
+He had published memoirs of great importance dealing with entomology in its
+relations to agriculture. Impressed with the importance of this little
+world, he suggested valuable remedies, means of preservation; which were
+all the more logical in that the destruction of insects, if it is to be
+efficacious, must be based not upon a gross empiricism, but on a previous
+study of their social life and their habits.
+
+With what patience he observed the terribly destructive weevils, and those
+formidable moths with downy wings, which fly without sound of a night, and
+whose depredations have often been valued at millions of francs! How
+meticulously he has recorded the conditions which favour or check the
+development of those parasitic fungi whose mortal blemishes are seen on
+buds and flowers, on the green shoots and clusters that promise a
+prosperous vintage!
+
+But then he became anxious. Was it all worth the sacrifice of his liberty?
+"Would he not suffer a thousand annoyances from pretentious nobodies?" for
+as things were, all ideas of again "enregimenting" himself "filled him with
+horror." (5/12.)
+
+Slowly, however, the first instalment of the work which he had spent nearly
+twenty-five years in planning, creating, and polishing, began to take
+shape. At the end of the year 1878 he was able to assemble a sufficient
+number of studies to form material for what was to be the first volume of
+his "Souvenirs entomologiques." (A selection of which forms "Social Life in
+the Insect World" (T. Fisher Unwin, 1912).)
+
+Let us stop for a moment to consider this first book, whose publication
+constitutes a truly historical date, not only in the career of Fabre, but
+in the annals of universal science. It was at once the foundation and the
+keystone of the marvellous edifice which we shall watch unfolding and
+increasing, but to which the future was in reality to add nothing
+essential. The cardinal ideas as to instinct and evolution, the necessity
+of experimenting in the psychology of animals, and the harmonic laws of the
+conservation of the individual, are here already expounded in their final
+and definite form. This fruitful and decisive year brought Fabre a great
+grief. He lost his son Jules, that one of all his children whom he seems
+most ardently to have loved.
+
+He was a youth of great promise, "all fire, all flame"; of a serious
+nature; an exquisite being, of a precocious intelligence, whose rare
+aptitudes both for science and literature were truly extraordinary. Such
+too was the subtlety of his senses that by handling no matter what plant,
+with his eyes closed, he could recognize and define it merely by the sense
+of touch. This delightful companion of his father's studies had scarcely
+passed his fifteenth year when death removed him. A terrible void was left
+in his heart, which was never filled. Thirty years later the least allusion
+to this child, however tactful, which recalled this dear memory to his
+mind, would still wring his heart, and his whole body would be shaken by
+his sobs. As always, work was his refuge and consolation; but this terrible
+blow shattered his health, until then so robust. In the midst of this
+disastrous winter he fell seriously ill. He was stricken with pneumonia,
+which all but carried him off, and every one gave him up for lost. However,
+he recovered, and issued from his convalescence as though regenerated, and
+with strength renewed he attacked the next stage of his labours.
+
+But what are the most fruitful resolutions, and what poor playthings are we
+in the hands of the unexpected! A vulgar incident of every-day life had
+sufficed to make Fabre decide to break openly with the University, and to
+leave Avignon. The secret motive of his departure from Orange was scarcely
+more solid. His new landlord concluded one day, either from cupidity or
+stupidity, to lop most ferociously the two magnificent rows of plane-trees
+which formed a shady avenue before his house, in which the birds piped and
+warbled in the spring, and the cicadae chorused in the summer. Fabre could
+not endure this massacre, this barbarous mutilation, this crime against
+nature. Hungry for peace and quiet, the enjoyment of a dwelling-place could
+no longer content him; at all costs he must own his own home.
+
+So, having won the modest ransom of his deliverance, he waited no longer,
+but quitted the cities for ever; retiring to Sérignan, to the peaceful
+obscurity of a tiny hamlet, and this quiet corner of the earth had
+henceforth all his heart and soul in keeping.
+
+
+CHAPTER 6. THE HERMITAGE.
+
+Goethe has somewhere written: Whosoever would understand the poet and his
+work should visit the poet's country.
+
+Let us, then, the latest of many, make the pilgrimage which all those who
+are fascinated by the enigma of nature will accomplish later, with the same
+piety that has led so many and so fervent admirers to the dwelling of
+Mistral at Maillane.
+
+Starting from Orange and crossing the Aygues, a torrent whose muddy waters
+are lost in the Rhône, but whose bed is dried by the July and August suns,
+leaving only a desert of pebbles, where the Mason-bee builds her pretty
+turrets of rock-work, we come presently to the Sérignaise country; an arid,
+stony tract, planted with vines and olives, coloured a rusty red, or
+touched here and there with almost a hue of blood; and here and there a
+grove of cypress makes a sombre blot. To the north runs a long black line
+of hills, covered with box and ilex and the giant heather of the south. Far
+in the distance, to the east, the immense plain is closed in by the wall of
+Saint-Amant and the ridge of the Dentelle, behind which the lofty Ventoux
+rears its rocky, cloven bosom abruptly to the clouds. At the end of a few
+miles of dusty road, swept by the powerful breath of the mistral, we
+suddenly reach a little village. It is a curious little community, with its
+central street adorned by a double row of plane-trees, its leaping
+fountains, and its almost Italian air. The houses are lime-washed, with
+flat roofs; and sometimes, at the side of some small or decrepit dwelling,
+we see the unexpected curves of a loggia. At a distance the facade of the
+church has the harmonious lines of a little antique temple; close at hand
+is the graceful campanile, an old octagonal tower surmounted by a narrow
+mitre wrought in hammered iron, in the midst of which are seen the black
+profiles of the bells.
+
+I shall never forget my first visit. It was in the month of August; and the
+whole countryside was ringing with the song of the cicadae. I had applied
+to a job-master of Orange, counting on him to take me thither; but he had
+never driven any one to Sérignan, had hardly heard of Fabre, and did not
+know where his house was. At length, however, we contrived to find it. At
+the entrance of the little market-town, in a solitary corner, in the centre
+of an enclosure of lofty walls, which were taller than the crests of the
+pines and cypresses, his dwelling was hidden away. No sound proceeded from
+it; but for the baying of the faithful Tom I do not think I should have
+dared to knock on the great door, which turned slowly on its hinges. A pink
+house with green shutters, half-hidden amid the sombre foliage, appears at
+the end of an alley of lilacs, "which sway in the spring under the weight
+of their balmy thyrsi." Before the house are the shady plane-trees, where
+during the burning hours of August the cicada of the flowering ash, the
+deafening cacan, concealed beneath the leaves, fills the hot atmosphere
+with its eager cries, the only sound that disturbs the profound silence of
+this solitude.
+
+Before us, beyond a little wall of a height to lean upon, on an isolated
+lawn, beneath the shade of great trees with interwoven boughs, a circular
+basin displays its still surface, across which the skating Hydrometra
+traces its wide circles. Then, suddenly, we see an opening into the most
+extraordinary and unexpected of gardens; a wild park, full of strenuous
+vegetation, which hides the pebbly soil in all directions; a chaos of
+plants and bushes, created throughout especially to attract the insects of
+the neighbourhood.
+
+Thickets of wild laurel and dense clumps of lavender encroach upon the
+paths, alternating with great bushes of coronilla, which bar the flight of
+the butterfly with their yellow-winged flowers, and whose searching
+fragrance embalms all the air about them.
+
+It is as though the neighbouring mountain had one day departed, leaving
+here its thistles, its dogberry-trees, its brooms, its rushes, its juniper-
+bushes, its laburnums, and its spurges. There too grows the "strawberry
+tree," whose red fruits wear so familiar an appearance; and tall pines, the
+giants of this "pigmy forest." There the Japanese privet ripens its black
+berries, mingled with the Paulownia and the Cratoegus with their tender
+green foliage. Coltsfoot mingles with violets; clumps of sage and thyme mix
+their fragrance with the scent of rosemary and a host of balsamic plants.
+Amid the cacti, their fleshy leaves bristling with prickles, the periwinkle
+opens its scattered blossoms, while in a corner the serpent arum raises its
+cornucopia, in which those insects that love putrescence fall engulfed,
+deceived by the horrible savour of its exhalations.
+
+It is in the spring above all that one should see this torrent of verdure,
+when the whole enclosure awakens in its festival attire, decked with all
+the flowers of May, and the warm air, full of the hum of insects, is
+perfumed with a thousand intoxicating scents. It is in the spring that one
+should see the "Harmas," the open-air observatory, "the laboratory of
+living entomology" (6/1.); a name and a spot which Fabre has made famous
+throughout the world.
+
+I enter the dining-room, whose wide, half-closed shutters allow only a
+half-light to enter between the printed curtains. Rush-bottomed chairs, a
+great table, about which seven persons daily take their places, a few poor
+pieces of furniture, and a simple bookcase; such are all the contents. On
+the mantel, a clock in black marble, a precious souvenir, the only present
+which Fabre received at the time of his exodus from Avignon; it was given
+by his old pupils, the young girls who used to attend the free lectures at
+Saint-Martial's.
+
+There, every afternoon, half lying on a little sofa, the naturalist has the
+habit of taking a short siesta. This light repose, even without sleep, was
+of old enough to restore his energies, exhausted by hours of labour.
+Thenceforth he was once more alert, and ready for the remainder of the day.
+
+But already he is on his feet, bareheaded, in his waistcoat, his silk
+necktie carelessly fastened under the soft turned-down collar of his half-
+open shirt, his gesture, in the shadowy chamber, full of welcome.
+
+François Sicard, in his faultless medal and his admirable bust, has
+succeeded with rare felicity in reproducing for posterity this rugged,
+shaven face, full of laborious years; a peasant face, stamped with
+originality, under the wide felt hat of Provence; touched with geniality
+and benevolence, yet reflecting a world of energy. Sicard has fixed for
+ever this strange mask; the thin cheeks, ploughed into deep furrows, the
+strained nose, the pendent wrinkles of the throat, the thin, shrivelled
+lips, with an indescribable fold of bitterness at the corners of the mouth.
+The hair, tossed back, falls in fine curls over the ears, revealing a high,
+rounded forehead, obstinate and full of thought. But what chisel, what
+graver could reproduce the surprising shrewdness of that gaze, eclipsed
+from time to time by a convulsive tremor of the eyelids! What Holbein, what
+Chardin could render the almost extraordinary brilliance of those black
+eyes, those dilated pupils: the eyes of a prophet, a seer; singularly wide
+and deeply set, as though gazing always upon the mystery of things, as
+though made expressly to scrutinize Nature and decipher her enigmas? Above
+the orbits, two short, bristling eyebrows seem set there to guide the
+vision; one, by dint of knitting itself above the magnifying-glass, has
+retained an indelible fold of continual attention; the other, on the
+contrary, always updrawn, has the look of defying the interlocutor, of
+foreseeing his objections, of waiting with an ever-ready return-thrust.
+Such is this striking physiognomy, which one who has seen it cannot forget.
+
+There, in this "hermit's retreat," as he himself has defined it, the sage
+is voluntarily sequestered; a true saint of science, an ascetic living only
+on fruits, vegetables, and a little wine; so in love with retirement that
+even in the village he was for a long time almost unknown, so careful was
+he to go round instead of through it on his way to the neighbouring
+mountain, where he would often spend whole days alone with wild nature.
+
+It is in this silent Thebaïd, so far from the atmosphere of cities, the
+vain agitations and storms of the world, that his life has been passed, in
+unchanging uniformity; and here he has been able to pursue, with resolute
+labour and incredible patience, that prodigious series of marvellous
+observations which for nearly fifty years he has never ceased to
+accumulate.
+
+Let us indeed remember how much time has been required and what effort has
+been expended to complete the long and patient inquiries which he had
+hitherto accomplished; obliged, as he was, to allow himself to be
+interrupted at any moment, and to postpone his observations often at the
+most interesting moment, in order to undertake some enervating labour, or
+the disagreeable and mechanical duties of his profession. Remember that his
+first labours already dated from twenty-five years earlier, and at the
+moment when we observe him in his solitude at Sérignan he had only just
+painfully gathered together the material for his first book. What a
+contrast to the thirty fruitful years that were to follow! Now nearly ten
+volumes, no less overflowing with the richest material, were to succeed one
+another at almost regular intervals--about one in every three years.
+
+To be sure, he would have gathered his harvest in no matter what corner of
+the world, provided he had found within his reach, in whatever sphere of
+life he had been placed, any subject of inquiry whatever; such was
+Rousseau, botanizing over the bunch of chickweed provided for his canary;
+such was Bernardin Saint-Pierre, discovering a world in a strawberry-plant
+which had sprouted by chance at the corner of his window. (6/2.) But the
+field in which he had hitherto been able to glean was indeed barren. That
+he was able, later on, to narrate the wonderful history of the Pelopaeus,
+whose habits he had observed at Avignon, was due to the fact that this
+curious insect had come to lodge with him, having chosen Fabre's chamber
+for its dwelling. None the less he threw himself eagerly upon all such
+scraps of information as happened to come under his notice; witness the
+observations which he embodied in a memoir touching the phosphorescence of
+certain earth-worms which, abounding in a little courtyard near his
+dwelling, were so rare elsewhere that he was never again able to find them.
+(6/3.) It was therefore fortunate, if not for himself, at least for his
+genius, that he did not become, as he had wished, a professor in a faculty;
+there, to be sure, he would have found a theatre worthy of his efforts, in
+which he might even have demonstrated, in all its magnificence, his
+incomparable gift of teaching; but it is probable too that he would have
+been stranded in shoal waters; that in the official atmosphere of a city
+his still more marvellous gifts of observation would scarcely have found
+employment.
+
+It was only by belonging fully to himself that he could fruitfully exercise
+his talents. Necessary to every scholar, to every inquirer, to an open-air
+observer like Fabre liberty and leisure were more than usually essential;
+failing these he might never have accomplished his mission. How many lives
+are wasted, how many minds expended in sheer loss, in default of this
+sufficiency of leisure! How many scholars tied to the soil, how many
+physicians absorbed by an exigent practice, who perhaps had somewhat to
+say, have succeeded only in devising plans, for ever postponing their
+realization to some miraculous tomorrow, which always recedes!
+
+But we must not fall into illusions. How many might be tempted to imitate
+him, hoping to see some unknown talent awaken or expand within them, only
+to find themselves incapable of producing anything, and to consume
+themselves in an insurmountable and barren ennui! One must be rich in one's
+own nature, rich in will and in ability, to live apart and seek new paths
+in solitude, and it is not without reason that the majority prefer the
+turmoil of cities and the murmur of men to the silence of the country.
+
+The atmosphere of a great capital, for instance, is singularly conducive to
+work. Living constantly within the circle of light shed by the masters,
+within reach of the laboratories and the great libraries, we are less
+likely to go astray; we are stimulated by the contact of others; we profit
+by their advice and experience; and it is easy to borrow ideas if we lack
+them. Then there is the stimulant of self-respect, the sense of rivalry,
+the eager desire to advance, to distinguish oneself, to shine, to attract
+attention, to become in one's turn an arbiter, an object of wonder and
+envy, without which stimulus many would merely have existed, and would
+never have become what they are.
+
+On the other hand, a man needs an intrinsic radio-activity, and a real
+talent; and the aid, moreover, of exceptional circumstances, if fame is to
+consent to come to him and take him by the hand in the depths of some
+unknown Maillane, some obscure Sérignan; even, as in the case of Fabre, at
+the end only of a long life.
+
+But he, by a kind of fatality inherent in his nature, loved "to
+circumscribe himself," according to the happy expression of Rousseau; and
+he profited, rather than otherwise, by living entirely to himself; for he
+had long been, indeed he always was, the man who, at twenty-five, writing
+to his brother, had said, in speaking of his native countryside:
+
+"For a impassioned botanist, it is a delightful country, in which I could
+pass a month, two months, three months, a year even, alone, quite alone,
+with no other companion than the crows and the jays which gossip among the
+oak-trees; without being weary for a moment; there would be so many
+beautiful fungi, orange, rosy, and white, among the mosses, and so many
+flowers in the fields." (6/4.)
+
+His work having brought him at last just enough to enable him to give
+himself the pleasure of becoming, in his turn, a proprietor, he had
+acquired, for a modest sum, this dilapidated dwelling and this deserted
+spot of ground; barren land, given over to couch-grass, thistles, and
+brambles; a sort of "accursed spot, to which no one would have confided
+even a pinch of turnip-seed." A piece of water in front of the house
+attracted all the frogs in the neighbourhood; the screech-owl mewed from
+the tops of the plane-trees, and numerous birds, no longer disturbed by the
+presence of man, had domiciled themselves in the lilacs and the cypresses.
+A host of insects had seized upon the dwelling, which had long been
+deserted.
+
+He restored the house, and to some extent reduced confusion to order. In
+the uncultivated and pebbly plain where the plough had been long a stranger
+he established plants of a thousand varieties, and, the better to hide
+himself, he had walls built to shut himself in.
+
+Why was he drawn by preference to this village of Sérignan?--for he did not
+go thither without making some inquiries as to the possibility of obtaining
+shelter elsewhere, and the Carpentras cemetery had tempted him also; but
+what had particularly seduced and drawn him thither was the nearness of the
+mountain with its Mediterranean flora, so rich that it recalled the
+Corsican maquis; full of beautiful fungi and varied insects, where, under
+the flat stones exposed to the burning sun, the centipede burrowed and the
+scorpion slept; where a special fauna abounded--of curious dung-beetles,
+scarabaei, the Copris, the Minotaur, etc.--which only a little farther
+north grow rapidly scarcer and then altogether disappear.
+
+He had thus at last arrived in port; he had found his "Eden."
+
+He had realized, "after forty years of desperate struggles," the dearest,
+the most ardent, the longest cherished of all his desires. He could observe
+at leisure "every day, every hour," his beloved insects; "under the blue
+sky, to the music of the cigales." He had only to open his eyes and to see;
+to lend an ear and hear; to enjoy the great blessing of leisure to his
+heart's content.
+
+Doffing the professor's frock-coat for the peasant's blouse, planting a
+root of sweet basil in his "topper," and finally kicking it to pieces, he
+snapped his fingers at his past life.
+
+Liberated at last, far from all that could irritate or disturb him or make
+him feel dependent, satisfied with his modest earnings, reassured by the
+ever-increasing popularity of his little books, he had obtained entire
+possession of his own body and mind, and could give himself without reserve
+to his favourite subjects.
+
+So, with Nature and her inexhaustible book before him, he truly commenced a
+new life.
+
+But would this life have been possible without the support and comfort of
+those intimate feelings which are at the root of human nature? Man is
+seldom the master of these feelings, and they, with reason or despite
+reason, force themselves on his notice as the question of questions.
+
+This delicate problem Fabre had to resolve after suffering a fresh grief.
+Hardly had he commenced to enjoy the benefits of this profound peace, when
+he lost his wife. At this moment his children were already grown up; some
+were married and some ready to leave him; and he could not hope much longer
+to keep his old father, the ex-café-keeper of Pierrelatte, who had come to
+rejoin him; and who might be seen, even in his extreme old age, going forth
+in all weathers and dragging his aged limbs along all the roads of
+Sérignan. (6/5.) The son, moreover, had inherited from his father his
+profound inaptitude for the practical business of life, and was equally
+incapable of managing his interests and the economics of the house. This is
+why, after two years of widowerhood, having already passed his sixtieth
+year, although still physically quite youthful, he remarried. Careless of
+opinion, obeying only the dictates of his own heart and mind, and following
+also the intuitions of unerring instinct, which was superior to the
+understanding of those who thought it their duty to oppose him, he married,
+as Boaz married Ruth, a young woman, industrious, full of freshness and
+life, already completely devoted to his service, and admirably fitted to
+satisfy that craving for order, peace, quiet, and moral tranquillity, which
+to him were above all things indispensable.
+
+His new companion, moreover, was in all things faithful to her mission, and
+it was thanks to the benefits of this union, as the future was to show,
+that Fabre was in a position to pursue his long-delayed inquiries.
+
+Three children, a son and two daughters, were born in swift succession, and
+reconstituted "the family," which was very soon increased by the youngest
+of his daughters by his first wife, who had not married; this was that
+Aglaë, who so often helped her father with her childlike attentions, and,
+"her cheek blooming with animation," collaborated in some of his most
+famous observations (6/6.); an unobtrusive figure, a soul full of devotion
+and resignation, heroic and tender. Having in vain ventured into the world,
+she had returned to the beloved roof at Sérignan, unable to part from the
+father she so admired and adored.
+
+Later, when the shadow of age grew denser and heavier, the young wife and
+the younger children of the famous poet-entomologist took part in his
+labours also; they gave him their material assistance, their hands, their
+eyes, their hearing, their feet; he in the midst of them was the
+conceiving, reasoning, interpreting, and directing brain.
+
+>From this time forward the biography of Fabre becomes simplified, and
+remains a statement of his inner life. For thirty years he never emerged
+from his horizon of mountains and his garden of shingle; he lived wholly
+absorbed in domestic affections and the tasks of a naturalist. None the
+less, he still exercised his vocation as teacher, for neither pure science
+nor poetry was sufficient to nourish his mind, and he was still Professor
+Fabre, untiringly pursuing his programme of education, although no longer
+applying himself thereto exclusively.
+
+This long active period was also the most silent period of his life,
+although not an hour, not a minute of his many days was left unoccupied.
+
+In the first few months at his new home he resumed his hymn to labour.
+
+"You will learn in your turn," he writes to his son Émile, "you will learn,
+I hope, that we are never so happy as when work does not leave us a
+moment's repose. To act is to live." (6/7.)
+
+The better to belong to himself, he eluded all invitations, even those from
+his nearest or most intimate friends; he hated to go away even for a few
+hours, preferring to enjoy in his own house their presence amidst his
+habitual and delightful surroundings. Everything in this still unexplored
+country was new to him. What would he do elsewhere, even in his beloved
+Carpentras, whither his faithful friend and pupil Devillario, who had
+formerly followed him in his walks around Avignon, would endeavour from
+time to time to draw him? Devillario was a magistrate, a collector and
+palaeontologist; his simple tastes, his wide culture, and his passion for
+natural history would surely have decided Fabre to accept his invitations,
+but that he forbade himself the pleasure. "I am afraid the hospitable
+cutlet that awaits me at your table will have time to grow cold; I am up to
+the neck in my work (6/8.)...But you, when you can, escape from your
+courts, and we will philosophize at random, as is our custom when we can
+manage to pass a few hours together. As for me, it is very doubtful whether
+the temptation will seize me to come to Carpentras. A hermit of the Thebaïd
+was no more diligent in his cell than I in my village home." (6/9.)
+
+
+CHAPTER 7. THE INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.
+
+Was there not indeed a sufficiency of captivating matters all about him,
+and beneath his very feet?
+
+In his deep, sunny garden a thousand insects fly, creep, crawl, and hum,
+and each relates its history to him. A golden gardener-beetle trots along
+the path. Rose-beetles pass, in snoring flight, on every hand, the gold and
+emerald of their elytra gleaming; now and again one of them alights for a
+moment on the flowering head of a thistle; he seizes it carefully with the
+tips of his nervous, pointed fingers, seems to caress it, speaks to it, and
+then suddenly restores it to freedom.
+
+Wasps are pillaging the centauries. On the blossoms of the camomile the
+larvae of the Meloë are waiting for the Anthophorae to carry them off to
+their cells, while around them roam the Cicindelae, their green bodies
+"spotted with points of amaranth." At the bottom of the walls "the chilly
+Psyche creeps slowly along under her cloak of tiny twigs." In the dead
+bough of a lilac-tree the dark-hued Xylocopa, the wood-boring bee, is busy
+tunnelling her gallery. In the shade of the rushes the Praying Mantis,
+rustling the floating robe of her long tender green wings, "gazes alertly,
+on the watch, her arms folded on her breast, her appearance that of one
+praying," and paralyses the great grey locust, nailed to its place by fear.
+
+Nothing here is insignificant; what the world would smile at or deride will
+provide the sage with food for thought and reflection. "Nothing is trivial
+in the majestic problem of nature; our laboratory acquaria are of less
+value than the imprint which the shoe of a mule has left in the clay, when
+the rain has filled the primitive basin, and life has peopled it with
+marvels"; and the least fact offered us by chance on the most thoroughly
+beaten track may possibly open prospects as vast as all the starry sky.
+
+Tell yourself that everything in nature is a symbol of something like a
+specimen of an abstruse cryptogram, all the characters of which conceal
+some meaning. But when we have succeeded in deciphering these living texts,
+and have grasped the allusion; when, beside the symbol, we have succeeded
+in finding the commentary, then the most desolate corner of the earth
+appears to the solitary seeker as a gallery full of the masterpieces of an
+unsuspected art. Fabre puts into our hands the golden key which opens the
+doors of this marvellous museum.
+
+Let us consider the terebinth louse; it is just a little yellow mite; but
+is it nothing else? Its genealogical history teaches us "by what amazing
+essays of passion and variety the universal law which rules the
+transmission of life is evolved. Here is neither father nor eggs; all these
+mites are mothers; and the young are born living, just like their mothers."
+To this end "almost the whole of the maternal substance is disintegrated
+and renewed and conglobated to form the ovarium...the whole creature has
+become an egg, which has, for its shell, the dry skin of the tiny creature,
+and the microscope will show a whole world in formation...a nebulosity as
+of white of egg, in which fresh centres of life are forming, as the suns
+are condensed in the nebulae of the heavens." (7/1.)
+
+What is this fleck of foam, like a drop of saliva, which we see in
+springtime on the weeds of the meadows; among others on the spurge, when
+its stems begin to shoot, and its sombre flowers open in the sunlight? "It
+is the work of an insect. It is the shelter in which the Cicadellina
+deposits her eggs. What a miraculous chemist! Her stiletto excels the
+finest craft of the botanical anatomist" by its sovereign art of separating
+the acrid poison which flows with the sap in the veins of the most venomous
+plants, and extracting therefrom only an inoffensive fluid. (7/2.)
+
+At every step the insects set us problems equally varied. The other
+creatures are nearer to us; they resemble us in many respects. But insects,
+almost the first-born of creation, form a world apart, and contain, in
+their tiny bodies, as Réaumur has admirably said, "more parts than the most
+gigantic animals." They have senses and faculties of their own, which
+enable them to accomplish actions, which are doubtless very simply related
+in reality, but which seem, to our minds, as extraordinary as the habits of
+the inhabitants of Mars might, if by chance they were to descend in our
+midst. We do not know how they hear, nor how they see through their
+compound eyes, and our ignorance concerning the majority of their senses
+still further increases the difficulty, which so often arrests us, of
+interpreting their actions.
+
+The tubercled Cerceris "finds by the hundred" and almost immediately a
+species of weevil, the Cleona ophthalmica, on which it feeds its larvae,
+and which the human eye, though it searches for hours, can scarcely find
+anywhere. The eyes of the Cerceris are like magnifying glasses, veritable
+microscopes, which immediately distinguish, in the vast field of nature, an
+object that human vision is powerless to discover. (7/3.)
+
+How does the Ammophila, hovering over the turf and investigating it far and
+wide, in its search for a grey grub, contrive to discern the precise point
+in the depth of the subsoil where the larva is slumbering in immobility?
+"Neither touch nor sight can come into play, for the grub is sealed up in
+its burrow at a depth of several inches; nor the scent, since it is
+absolutely inodorous; nor the hearing, since its immobility is absolute
+during the daytime." (7/4.)
+
+The Processional caterpillar of the pine-trees, "endowed with an exquisite
+hygrometric sensibility," is a barometer more infallible than that of the
+physicists. "It foresees the tempests preparing afar, at enormous
+distances, almost in the other hemisphere," and announces them several days
+before the least sign of them appears on the horizon. (7/5.)
+
+A wild bee, the Chalicodoma, and a wasp, the Cerceris, carried in the dark
+far from their familiar pastures, to a distance of several miles, and
+released in spots which they have never seen, cross vast and unknown spaces
+with absolute certainty, and regain their nests; even after long absence,
+and in spite of contrary winds and the most unexpected obstacles. It is not
+memory that guides them, but a special faculty whose astonishing results we
+must admit without attempting to explain them, so far removed are they from
+our own psychology. (7/6.) But here is another example:
+
+The Greater Peacock moths cross hills and valleys in the darkness, with a
+heavy flight of wings spotted with inexplicable hieroglyphics. They hasten
+from the remotest depths of the horizon to find their "sleeping beauties,"
+drawn thereto by unknown odours, inappreciable by our senses, yet so
+penetrating that the branch of almond on which the female has perched, and
+which she has impregnated with her effluvium, exerts the same extraordinary
+attraction. (7/7.)
+
+Considering these creatures, we end by discovering more things than are
+contained in all the philosophies...if we know how to look for them.
+
+Among so many unimaginable phenomena, which bewilder us, "because there is
+nothing analogous in us," we succeed in perceiving, here and there, a few
+glimpses of day, which suddenly throw a singular light upon this black
+labyrinth, in which the least secret we can surprise "enters perhaps more
+directly into the profound enigma of our ends and our origins than the
+secret of the most urgent and most closely studied of our passions." (7/8.)
+
+Fabre explains by hypnosis one of those curious facts which have hitherto
+been so poorly interpreted. When surprised by abnormal conditions, we see
+insects suddenly fall over, drop to the ground, and lie as though struck by
+lightning, gathering their limbs under their bodies. A shock, an unexpected
+odour, a loud noise, plunges them instantly into a sort of lethargy, more
+or less prolonged. The insect "feigns death," not because it simulates
+death, but in reality because this MAGNETIC condition resembles that of
+death. (7/9.) Now the Odynerus, the Anthidium, the Eucera, the Ammophila,
+and all the hymenoptera which Fabre has observed sleeping at the fall of
+night, "suspended in space solely by the strength of their mandibles, their
+bodies tense, their limbs retracted, without exhaustion or collapse"; and
+the larva of the Empusa, "which for some ten months hangs to a twig by its
+limbs, head downwards": do not these present a surprising analogy with
+those hypnotized persons who possess the faculty of remaining fixed in the
+most painful poses, and of supporting the most unusual attitudes, for an
+extremely long time; for instance, with one arm extended, or one foot
+raised from the ground, without appearing to experience the least fatigue,
+and with a persevering and unfaltering energy? (7/10.)
+
+That the ex-schoolmaster was able to penetrate so far into this new world,
+and that he has been able to interest us in so many fascinating problems,
+was due to the fact that he had also "taken a wide bird's-eye view through
+all the windows of creation." His universal capabilities, his immense
+culture and almost encyclopaedic science have enabled him to utilize,
+thanks to his studies, all the knowledge allied to his subject. He is not
+one of those who understand only their speciality and who, knowing nothing
+outside their own province and their particular labours, refuse to grasp at
+anything beyond the narrow limits within which they stand installed.
+
+All plants are to him so familiar that the flowers, for him, assume the
+airs of living persons. But without a profound knowledge of botany, who
+would hope to grasp the profound, perpetual, and intimate relations of the
+plant and the insect?
+
+He has turned over strata and interrogated the schistous deposits, whose
+archives preserve the forms of vanished organizations, but "keep silence as
+to the origin of the instincts." Bending over his reagents, he has sought
+to discover, according to the phrase of a philosopher, those secret
+retreats in which Nature is seated before her furnaces, in the depths of
+her laboratory; following up the metamorphoses of matter even to the wings
+of the Scarabaei, and observing how life, returning to her crucible the
+debris and ashes of the organism, combines the elements anew, and from the
+elements of the urine can derive, for example, by a simple displacement of
+molecules, "all this dazzling magic of colours of innumerable shades: the
+amethystine violet of Geotrupes, the emerald of the rose-beetle, the gilded
+green of the Cantharides, the metallic lustre of the gardener-beetles, and
+all the pomp of the Buprestes and the dung-beetles." (7/11.)
+
+His books are steeped in all the ideas of modern physics. The highest
+mathematical knowledge has been referred to with profit in his marvellous
+description of the hunting-net of the Epeïra. Whose "terribly scientific"
+combinations realize "the spiral logarithm of the geometers, so curious in
+its properties" (7/12.); a splendid observation, in which Fabre makes us
+admire, in the humble web of a spider, a masterpiece as astonishing and
+incomprehensible as and even more sublime than the honeycomb.
+
+This explains why Fabre has always energetically denied that he is properly
+speaking an entomologist; and indeed the term appears often wrongly to
+describe him. He loves, on the contrary, to call himself a naturalist; that
+is, a biologist; biology being, by definition, the study of living
+creatures considered as a whole and from every point of view. And as
+nothing in life is isolated, as all things hold together, and as each part,
+in all its relations, presents itself to the gaze of the observer under
+innumerable aspects, one cannot be a true naturalist without being at the
+same time a philosopher.
+
+But it is not enough to know and to observe.
+
+To be admitted to the spectacle of these tiny creatures, to become familiar
+with their habits, to grasp the mysterious threads which connect them one
+with another and with the vast universe: for this the cold and deliberate
+vision of the specialist would often be insufficient. There is an art of
+observation, and the gift of observation is a true function of that
+constantly alert intelligence, continually dominated by the need of delving
+untiringly down to the ultimate truth accessible, "allowing ourselves to
+pass over nothing without seeking its reason, and habitually following up
+every response with another question, until we come to the granite wall of
+the Unknowable." Above all we need an ardent and interested sympathy, for
+"we penetrate farther into the secret of things by the heart than by the
+reason," as Toussenel has said; and "it is only by intuition that we can
+know what life truly is," adds Bergson profoundly. (7/13.) Now Fabre loves
+these little peoples and knows how to make us love them. How tenderly he
+speaks of them; with what solicitude he observes them; with what love he
+follows the progress of their nurslings; the young grubs wriggling in his
+test-tubes, with doddering heads, are happy; and he himself is happy to see
+them "well-fed and shining with health." He pities the bee stabbed by the
+Philanthus "in the holy joys of labour." He sympathizes with the sufferings
+of these little creatures and their hard labours. If, in his search for
+ideas, he has to overturn their dwellings, "he repents of subjecting
+maternal love to such tribulations," and if he is constrained to put them
+to the question, to torment them in order to extract their secrets, he is
+grieved to have provoked "such miseries!" (7/14.) Having provided for their
+needs, and satisfied with the secrets which they have revealed to him, it
+is not without regret and difficulty that he parts from them and restores
+them "to the delights of liberty."
+
+He is thoroughly convinced, moreover, that all the creatures that share the
+face of the earth with us are accomplishing an august and appointed task.
+He welcomes the swallows to his dwelling, even surrendering his workroom to
+them, at the risk of jeopardizing his notes and books. He pleads for the
+frog, and applies himself to setting forth his unknown qualities; he
+rehabilitates the bat, the hedgehog, and the screech-owl, persecuted,
+defamed, crushed, stoned, and crucified! (7/15.)
+
+So intimate is the life which he leads among them all that he makes himself
+truly their companion, and relates his own history in narrating theirs;
+pleased to discover in their joys and sorrows his own trials and delights;
+mingling in their annals his memories and his impressions; delightful
+fragments of a childlike autobiography, encrusted in his learned work;
+moving and delightful pages in which all the ingenuity of this noble mind
+reveals itself with a touching sincerity, in which all the freshness of
+this charming and so profoundly unworldly nature is seen as through a pure
+crystal.
+
+There is no real communion with nature without sentiment, without an
+illuminating passion: often the sole and effectual grace which enables its
+true meaning to appear. Neither taste, nor intelligence, nor logic, nor all
+the science of the schools can suffice alone. To see further there is
+needed something like a gift of correspondence, surpassing the limits of
+observation and experience, which enables us to foresee and to divine the
+profound secrets of life which lie beneath appearances. Those who are so
+gifted have often only to open their eyes in order to grasp matters in
+their true light.
+
+A great observer is in reality a poet who imagines and creates. The
+microscope, the magnifying glass, the scalpel, are as it were the strings
+of a lyre. "The felicitous and fruitful hypothesis which constitutes
+scientific invention is a gift of sentiment" in the words of Claude
+Bernard; and of this king of physiology, who commenced by proving himself
+in works of pure imagination, and whose genius finally took for its theme
+the manifold variations of living flesh, of him too may we not say that he
+has explored the labyrinths of life with "the torch of poetry in his hand"?
+
+Similarly, do not the harmonious sequences which run through all the
+admirable discoveries of Pasteur give us the sensation of a veritable and
+gigantic poem?
+
+In Fabre also it seems that the passion which he brings to all his patient
+observations is in itself truly creative: "his heart beats with emotion,
+the sweat drips from his brow to the soil, making mortar of the dust"; he
+forgets food and drink, and "thus passes hours of oblivion in the happiness
+of learning." I have seen him in his laboratory studying the spawning of
+the bluebottle, when I, at his side, could scarcely support the horrible
+stench which rose from the putrefying adders and lumps of meat; he,
+however, was oblivious of the frightful odour, and his face was inundated
+with smiles of delight.
+
+Intelligence, then, must here be the servant of feeling and intuition; a
+kind of primitive faculty, mysterious and instinctive, which alone makes a
+great naturalist like Fabre, a great historian like Michelet, a great
+physician like Boherhaave or Bretonneau.
+
+These last are not always the most scholarly nor the most learned nor the
+most patient, but they are those who possess in a high degree that special
+vision, that gift, properly speaking poetic, which is known as the clinical
+eye, which at the first glance perceives and confirms the diagnosis in all
+its detail.
+
+Fabre has a mind propitious to such processes; and if, by chance,
+circumstances had directed his attention to medicine, that science which is
+based upon an abundant provision of facts, but in which good sense and a
+kind of divination play a still wider part, there is no doubt that he would
+have been capable of becoming a shining light in this new arena.
+
+He was full of admiration for that other illustrious Vauclusian, François
+Raspail (7/16.), whose medical genius anticipated Pasteur and all the
+conceptions of modern medicine. It would seem that he found in him his own
+temper, his own fashion of seeing and representing things. He loved
+Raspail's books and his prescriptions, full of reason and a most judicious
+good sense, distrusting for himself and for his family the complicated
+formulae and cunning remedies of an art too considered and still unproved.
+At Carpentras, while his first-born, Émile, was hovering between life and
+death, and the physician who came to see him, "being at the end of his
+resources," did nothing more for him and soon ceased to come, thinking that
+the child would not last till the morrow, Fabre flew to the works of
+Raspail.
+
+"I searched to discover what his malady was. I found it, and he was treated
+day and night accordingly. To-day he is convalescent; and his appetite has
+returned. I believe he is saved, and I shall say, like Ambroise Paré, 'I
+have nursed him; God has cured him.'" (7/17.)
+
+The episode which he relates, when, at the primary school of Avignon, a
+retort had just burst, "spurting in all directions its contents of
+vitriol," right in the midst of the suddenly interrupted chemistry lesson,
+and when, thanks to his prompt action, he saved the sight of one of his
+comrades, does honour to his initiative and presence of mind. (7/18.)
+
+While "all physicians should bow before the facts which he excels in
+discovering" (7/19.), he has also been able to make direct application of
+the marvels of entomology to some of the problems of hygiene and medicine.
+He has shown that the irritant poison secreted by certain caterpillars,
+"which sets the fingers which handle them on fire," is nothing but a waste
+product of the organism, a derivative of uric acid; he does not hesitate to
+perform painful experiments on himself in order to furnish the proof of his
+theory; and he explains thus the curious cases of dermatitis which are
+often observed among silkworm-breeders. (7/20.) He proves the uselessness
+of our meat-safes of metallic gauze, intended to preserve meat against
+contamination, and the efficacy of a mere envelope of paper, not only to
+preserve meat from flies, but also our garments from the clothes-moth.
+(7/21.) He recommends the curious Provençal recipe, which consists in
+boiling suspected mushrooms in salt and water before eating them. Finally
+he suggests to members of the medical profession that they might perhaps
+extract heroic remedies from these treacherous vegetables. (7/22.)
+
+He had need of that indefinite leisure which had hitherto been so wholly
+lacking, for the events of ephemeral lives occur at indeterminate hours, at
+unexpected moments, and are of brief duration.
+
+So, attentive to their least movements, Fabre goes forth to observe them at
+the earliest break of day, in the red dawn, when the bee "pops her head out
+of her attic window to see what the weather is," and the spiders of the
+thickets lie in wait under the whorls of their nets, "which the tears of
+night have changed into chaplets of dewdrops, whose magic jewellery,
+sparkling in the sun," is already attracting moths and midges.
+
+Seated for hours before a sprig of terebinth, his eye, armed with the
+magnifying glass, follows the slow manoeuvres of the terebinth louse, whose
+proboscis "cunningly distils the venom which causes the leaf to swell and
+produces those enormous tumours, those misshapen and monstrous galls, in
+which the young pass their period of slumber."
+
+He watches at night, by the dim light of a lantern, to copy the Scolopendra
+at her task, seeking to surprise the secret of her eggs (7/23.); to observe
+the Cione constructing her capsule of goldbeater's skin, or the
+Processional caterpillars travelling head to tail along their satin trail,
+extinguishing his candle only when sleep at last sets his eyelids blinking.
+He will wake early to witness the fairy-like resurrection of the silkworm
+moth (7/24.); "in order not to lose the moment when the nymph bursts her
+swaddling-bands," or when the wing of the locust issues from its sheath and
+"commences to sprout"; no spectacle in the world is more wonderful than the
+sight of "this extraordinary anatomy in process of formation," the
+unrolling of these "bundles of tissue, cunningly folded and reduced to the
+smallest possible compass" in the insignificant alar stumps, which
+gradually unfold "like an immense set of sails," like the "body-linen of
+the princess" of the fairy-tale, which was contained in one single hemp-
+seed. (7/25.)
+
+In his Harmas he is like a stranger discovering an unknown world; "like a
+kindly giant from Sirius, holding a magnifying glass to his eye, retaining
+his breath, lest it should overturn and sweep away the pigmies which he is
+observing."
+
+His passion for interrogating the Sphinx of life, everywhere and at all
+moments, sufficed to fill his days from one end of the year to the other.
+When some distant subject interested him, even on the most scorching days,
+he would put "his lunch in his pocket, an apple and a crust of bread," and
+sit out in the hot sunlight, accompanied by his dog, Vasco, Tom, or Rabbit;
+fearing only that some importunate third person might come between nature
+and himself.
+
+When he walked in his garden he would let nothing escape him; witness those
+precise notes of an eclipse of the sun, and of the effects which that
+phenomenon produces upon animal life as a whole.
+
+While his children followed the progress of the moon across the sun through
+a pane of smoked glass, he attentively observed all that occurred in the
+countryside.
+
+"It is four; the day grows pale; the temperature is fresher; the cocks
+crow, surprised by this kind of twilight which comes before the hour. A few
+dogs are baying...The swallows, numerous before, have all disappeared...a
+couple have taken refuge in my study, one window of which is open...when
+the normal light returns they will come outdoors once more...The
+nightingale, which had so long importuned me by his interminable song, is
+silent at last (7/26.); the black-capped skylarks, which were warbling
+continually, are suddenly still...only the young house-sparrows under the
+tiles of the roof are mournfully chirping...Peace and silence, the daylight
+more than half gone...In the Harmas I can no longer see the insects flying;
+I find only one bee pillaging the rosemary; all life has disappeared.
+
+"Only a weevil, the Lixus," which he is observing in a cage, "continues,
+step by step, without the slightest emotion, his amorous by-play, as though
+nothing unusual were happening...The nightingale and the skylark may be
+silent, oppressed by fear; the bee may re-enter her hive; but is a weevil
+to be upset because the sun threatens to go out?" (7/27.)
+
+He was no less curious concerning the resurrection of the sun, and every
+time he made an excursion to the Ventoux he was careful not to miss this
+spectacle; setting out at an early hour from the foot of the mountain, so
+that he might see the dawn grow bright from the summit of its rocky mass;
+then the sun, suddenly rising in the morning breeze, and setting fire,
+little by little, to the Alps of Dauphiné and the hills of Comtat; and the
+Rhône, far below, slender as a silver thread.
+
+He took infinite pleasure too in drinking his fill of the sublime terrors
+of the thunderstorm, which he regarded as one of the most magnificent
+spectacles which nature can offer; not content with observing it through
+glass, he would open wide the windows at night the better to enjoy the
+phosphorescence of the atmosphere, the conflagration of the clouds, the
+bursts of thunder, and all the solemn pomp with which the great purifying
+phenomenon manifests itself.
+
+But pure observation, as practised by his predecessors, Réaumur and Huber,
+is often insufficient, or "furnishes only a glimpse of matters."
+
+He had recourse, therefore, to artificial observation of the kind known as
+experimentation, and we may say that Fabre was really the first to employ
+the experimental method in the study of the minds of animals.
+
+Near the field of observation, therefore, is the naturalist's workshop,
+"the animal laboratory," in which such inductions as may be suggested by
+the doings and the movements of the insects "which roam at liberty amidst
+the thyme and lavender" are subjected to the test of experiment. It is a
+great, silent, isolated room, brilliantly lighted by two windows facing
+south, upon the garden, one at least of which is always kept open that the
+insects may come and go at liberty.
+
+In the glass-topped boxes of pine which occupy almost the entire height of
+the whitewashed walls are carefully arranged the collections so patiently
+amassed; all the entomological fauna of the South of France, and the sea-
+shells of the Mediterranean; an abundant wealth also of divers rarities;
+numismatical treasures and fragments of pottery and other prehistorical
+documents, of which the numerous ossuaries in the neighbourhood of
+Sérignan, scattered here and there upon the hills, contain many specimens.
+
+At the top, crowning the facade of glass-topped cases like an immense
+frieze, is the colossal herbarium, the first volumes of which go back to
+the early youth of their owner; all the flora, both of the Midi and the
+North, those of the plains and those of the mountains, and all the algae of
+fresh and salt water.
+
+But it must not be supposed that Fabre attaches any great value to these
+collections, enormous though the sum of labour which they represent. To him
+they have been a means of education, a means of organizing and arranging
+his knowledge, and not of satisfying an idle curiosity; not the amusement
+of one content with the rind of things. In order to identify at first sight
+such specimens as one encounters and proposes to examine, one must first of
+all learn to observe and to see thoroughly, and to school the eyes in the
+colours and forms peculiar to each individual species.
+
+One may fairly complain of Réaumur, for example, that his knowledge was
+uncertain and incomplete. Too often he leaves his readers undecided as to
+the nature of the species whose habits he describes. Fabre himself, by dint
+of criticizing with so much humour the abuse of classifications, has
+sometimes allowed himself to fall into the same fault. (7/28.) He has taken
+good care, however, not to neglect the systematic study of species; witness
+his "Flora of the Vaucluse" and that careful catalogue of Avignon which he
+has not disdained to republish. (7/29.) The truth is that "if we do not
+know their names the knowledge of the things escapes us" (7/30.), and he
+was profoundly conscious of the truth of this precept of the great
+Linnaeus.
+
+The middle of the room is entirely occupied by a great table of walnut-
+wood, on which are arranged bottles, test-tubes, and old sardine-boxes,
+which Fabre employs in order to watch the evolution of a thousand nameless
+or doubtful eggs, to observe the labours of their larvae, the creation and
+the hatching of cocoons, and the little miracles of metamorphosis, "after a
+germination more wonderful than that of the acorn which makes the oak."
+
+Covers of metallic gauze resting on earthenware saucers full of sand, a few
+carboys and flower-pots or sweetmeat jars closed with a square of glass;
+these serve as observation or experimental cages in which the progress and
+the actions of "these tiny living machines" can be examined.
+
+Fabre has revealed himself as a psychologist without rival, of a consummate
+skill in the difficult and delicate art of experimentation; the art of
+making the insect speak, of putting questions to it, of forcing it to
+betray its secrets; for experiment is "the only method which can throw any
+light upon the nature of instincts."
+
+His resources being slender and his mind inventive, he has ingeniously
+supplemented the poverty of his equipment, and has discovered less costly
+and less complex means of conducting his experiments; knowing the secret of
+extracting the sublimest truth from clumsy combinations of "trivial,
+peasant-made articles."
+
+He has succeeded, in his rustic laboratory, in applying the rigorous rules
+of investigation and experimentation established by the great biologists.
+He has therefore been able to establish his beautiful observations in a
+manner so indisputable that those who come after him and are tempted to
+study the same things can but arrive at the same results, and derive
+inspiration from his researches.
+
+To note with care all the details of a phenomenon is the first essential,
+so that others may afterwards refer to them and profit by them; the
+difficult thing is to interpret them, to discover the circumstances, the
+whys and wherefores, the consequences, and the connecting links.
+
+But a single fact observed by chance at the wayside, and which would not
+even attract the attention of another, will be instantly luminous to this
+searching understanding, it will suggest questions unforeseen, and will
+evoke, by anticipation, preconceived ideas and sudden flashes of intuition,
+which will necessitate the test of experiment.
+
+Why, for example, does the Philanthus, that slender wasp, which captures
+the honey-bee upon the blossoms in order to feed her larvae; why, before
+she carries her prey to her offspring, does she "outrage the dying insect,"
+by squeezing its crop in order to empty it of honey, in which she appears
+to delight, and does indeed actually delight?
+
+"The bandit greedily takes in her mouth the extended and sugared tongue of
+the dead insect; then once more she presses the neck and the thorax, and
+once more applies the pressure of her abdomen to the honey-sac of the bee.
+The honey oozes forth and is instantly licked up. Thus the bee is gradually
+compelled to disgorge the contents of the crop. This atrocious meal lasts
+often half an hour and longer, until the last trace of honey has
+disappeared."
+
+The detailed answer is obtained by experiment, which perfectly explains
+this "odious feast," the excuse for which is simply maternity. The
+Philanthus knows, instinctively, without having learned it, that honey,
+which is her ordinary fare, is, by a very singular "inversion," a mortal
+poison to her larvae. (7/31.)
+
+As an accomplished physiologist, Fabre conducts all kinds of experiments.
+Behind the wires of his cages, he provokes the moving spectacle of the
+scorpion at grip with the whole entomological fauna, in order to test the
+effects of its terrible venom upon various species; and thus he discovers
+the strange immunity of larvae; the virus, "the reagent of a transcendent
+chemistry, distinguishes the flesh of the larva from that of the adult; it
+is harmless to the former, but mortal to the latter"; a fresh proof that
+"metamorphosis modifies the substance of the organism to the point of
+changing its most intimate properties." (7/32.)
+
+You may judge from this that he knows through and through the history of
+the creatures which form the subjects of his faithful narratives. He is
+informed of the smallest events of their lives. He possesses a calendar of
+their births; he records their chronology and the succession of
+generations; he has noted their methods of work, examined their diet, and
+recorded their meals. He discovers the motives which dictate their
+peculiarities of choice; why the Cerceris, for instance, among all the
+victims at its disposal, never selects anything but the Buprestis and the
+weevils. He is familiar too with their tactics of warfare and their methods
+of conflict.
+
+His gaze has penetrated even the most hidden dwellings; those in which the
+Halictus "varnishes her cells and makes the round loaf which is to receive
+the egg"; in which, under the cover of cocoons, murderous grubs devour
+slumbering nymphs; even the depths of the soil are not hidden from him, for
+there, thanks to his artifices, he has surprised the astonishing secret of
+the Minotaur.
+
+He sifts all doubtful stories; anecdotes, statements of supposed habits;
+all that is incoherent, or ill observed, or misinterpreted; all the cliches
+which the makers of books pass from hand to hand.
+
+In place of repetition he gives us laws, constant facts, fixed rules.
+
+With incomparable skill, he repeats and tests the ancient experiments of
+Réaumur.
+
+He is not content to show us that Erasmus Darwin is mistaken; he points out
+how it is that he has fallen into error. (7/33.)
+
+He sets himself to decipher the meaning of old tales, skilfully disengaging
+the little parcel of truth which usually lies beneath a mass of incorrect
+or even false statements. He criticises La Fontaine, and questions the
+statements of Horus Apollo and Pliny. From a mass of undigested knowledge
+he has created the living science of entomology, which had received from
+Réaumur a first breath of vitality, in such wise that each individual
+creature is presented in his work with its precise expression and the
+absolute truth of its character and attitudes; the inhabitants of the woods
+and fields, whether those which feed upon the crops or those which live in
+the crevices of the rocks, or the obscure workers that crawl upon the
+earth; all those which have a secret to tell or something to teach us; the
+Cigale, so different from the insect of the Fable; and above all that
+beetle whose name had hitherto been encountered arrayed in the most
+fantastic legends, the famous Scarabaeus sacer of the tombs, which Fabre
+preferred to place at the head of his epic as an agreeable prologue,
+although the inquiry relative to his amazing feats belongs chronologically
+to a comparatively recent period of his career.
+
+How moderate he is in such suppositions as he ventures; how cautious when
+his persistent patience has at last struck against "the inaccessible wall
+of the Unknowable"! Then, with admirable frankness, tranquil and sincere,
+he simply owns that "he does not know," unlike so many others, whose
+uncritical minds are contented with a fragmentary vision, and run so far
+ahead of the facts that they can only promote indefinite illusion and
+error.
+
+One is surprised indeed to remark how few even of the most learned and
+well-informed of men have a real aptitude for observation, and a highly
+instructive book might be written concerning the discrepancies and the weak
+points in our knowledge. If they were subjected to a sufficiently severe
+test, how threadbare would appear many of those problems which nature and
+the world present, and which are regarded as resolved!
+
+How long, for instance, was needed to destroy the legend of the cuckoo,
+incessantly repeated down to the days of Xavier Raspail, and to us so
+familiar; to elucidate its history, and to set it in its true light!
+(7/34.)
+
+It is by means of such data as these that a science is founded, for
+theories decay, and only well-observed facts remain irrefragable. With
+stones such as these, which are hewn by the great artisan, the structures
+of the future will be built, and our own science, perhaps, will one day be
+refashioned.
+
+For this reason Fabre's books are an education for all those who wish to
+devote themselves to observation; a manual of mental discipline, a true
+"essay upon method," which should be read by every naturalist, and the most
+interesting, instructive, familiar and delightful course of training that
+has ever been known.
+
+On the other hand, it is impossible to conceive what labour this delicate
+work demands; what perseverance Fabre has required painfully to extract one
+grain of gold; to glean and unite the definite factors, the positive
+documents, which served as foundations for each of his essays; lucid,
+limpid, and captivating as the most delightful of fairy-tales. We are
+charmed, fascinated, and astonished; we see nothing of the groping advance,
+the checks, and all the toil and the patience demanded. We do not suspect
+the long waiting, the hesitation, the desperate length of the inquiries.
+For example, to establish the curious relations which exist between the
+wasps and the Volucellae, what long and repeated experiments were needful!
+His notebooks, in which he records, from day to day, all that he sees, are
+evidence of this. What watches in the alley of lilacs, year after year, to
+decipher the mechanism and the mode of construction of the hunting-net of
+the Epeïra! Some of these histories, like that of the hyper-metamorphosis
+of the Meloë, were only completed as the result of twenty-five years of
+assiduous inquiry, while forty years were required to complete that of the
+Scarabaeus sacer, for his observation of it was always partial; it is
+almost always impossible to divine what one cannot see from the little that
+one does see; and as a rule one must return to the same point over and over
+again in order to fill up lacunae.
+
+The majority of the insects which Fabre has studied are solitary, and are
+only to be encountered singly, scattered over wide areas of country. Some
+live only in determined spots, and not elsewhere, such as the famous
+Cerceris, or the yellow-winged Sphex, of which no trace is to be found
+beyond the limits of the Carpentras countryside.
+
+The proper season must be watched for; one must be ready at any moment to
+profit by a lucky chance, and resign oneself to interminable watches at the
+bottom of a ravine, or keep on the alert for hours under a fiery sun. Often
+the chance goes by, or the trail followed proves false; but the season is
+over, and one must wait for the return of another spring. The trade of
+observer in many cases resembles the exhausting labours of the Sisyphus
+beetle, painfully pushing his pellet up a rough and stony path; so that the
+team halts and staggers at every moment, the load spills over and rolls
+away, and all has to be commenced over again.
+
+We can now cast back, in order to consider at leisure the immortal study
+which marked the beginning of his fame, with the greater interest and
+profit in that Fabre has been able, during his retirement, to generalize
+and extend his discovery. (7/35.)
+
+Let us first of all note how the observation which Dufour had made of the
+nest of the Cerceris was transformed in his hands, and what developments he
+was able to evolve therefrom.
+
+Since they have been definitely established by Fabre these curious facts
+have been well-known. They form perhaps the greatest prodigy presented by
+entomology, that science so full of marvels.
+
+These wasps nourish themselves only on the nectar of flowers; but their
+larvae, which they will never behold, must have fresh and succulent flesh
+still palpitating with life.
+
+The insect digs a tunnel in the soil, in which she places her eggs, and
+having provisioned the cell with selected game--cricket, spider,
+caterpillar, or beetle--she finally closes the entrance, which she does not
+again cross.
+
+Like nearly all insects, the young wasp is born in the larval state, and
+from the moment of its hatching to the end of its growth--that is to say,
+for a period of many days--the grub enclosed in its cell can look for no
+help from without.
+
+Here then is a fascinating problem: either the victims deposited by the
+mother are dead, and desiccation or putrefaction attacks them promptly, or
+else they are living, as indeed the larvae require; but then "what will
+become of this fragile creature, which a mere nothing will destroy, shut in
+the narrow chamber of the burrow among vigorous beetles, for weeks on end
+working their long spurred legs; or at grips with a monstrous caterpillar
+making play with its flanks and mandibles, rolling and unrolling its
+tortuous folds?"
+
+Such is the thrilling mystery of which Fabre discovered the key.
+
+With inconceivable ingenuity, the victim is seized and thrown to the
+ground, and the wasp plunges her sting, not at random into the body, which
+would involve the risk of death, but at determined points, exactly into the
+seat of those invisible nervous ganglions whose mechanism commands the
+various movements of the creature.
+
+Immediately after these subtle wounds the prey is paralysed throughout its
+body; its members appear to be disarticulated, "as though all the springs
+were broken"; the true corpse is not more motionless.
+
+But the wound is not mortal; not only does the insect continue to live, but
+it has acquired the strange prerogative of being able to live for a very
+long period without taking any nourishment, thanks precisely to the
+condition of immobility, in some sort vegetative, which paralysis confers
+upon it.
+
+When the hour strikes the hungry larva will find its favourite meat served
+to its liking; and it will attack this defenceless prey with all the
+circumspection of a refined eater; "with an exquisitely delicate art,
+nibbling the viscera of its victim little by little, with an infallible
+method; the less essential parts first of all, and only in the last
+instance those which are necessary to life. Here then is an
+incomprehensible spectacle; the spectacle of an animal which, eaten alive,
+mouthful by mouthful, during nearly a fortnight, is hollowed out, grows
+less and less, and finally collapses," while retaining to the end its
+succulence and its freshness.
+
+The fact is that the mother has taken care to deposit her egg "at a point
+always the same" in the region which her sting has rendered insensible, so
+that the first mouthfuls are only feebly resented. But as the enemy goes
+deeper and deeper "it sometimes happens that the cricket, bitten to the
+quick, attempts to retaliate; but it only succeeds in opening and closing
+the pincers of its mandibles on the empty air, or in uselessly waving its
+antennae." Vain efforts: "for now the voracious beast has bitten deep into
+the spot, and can with impunity ransack the entrails." What a slow and
+horrible agony for the paralysed victim, should some glimmer of
+consciousness still linger in its puny brain! What a terrible nightmare for
+the little field-cricket, suddenly plunged into the den of the Sphex, so
+far from the sunlit tuft of thyme which sheltered its retreat!
+
+To paralyse without killing, "to deliver the prey to the larvae inert but
+living": that is the end to be attained; only the method varies according
+to the species of the hunter and the structure of the prey; thus the
+Cerceris, which attacks the coleoptera, and the Scolia, which preys upon
+the larvae of the rose-beetle, sting them only once and in a single place,
+because there is concentrated the mass of the motor ganglions.
+
+The Pompilus, which selects a spider for its victim, no less than the
+redoubtable Tarantula, knows that its quarry "has two nervous centres which
+animate respectively the movements of the limbs and those of the terrible
+fangs; hence the two stabs of the sting." (7/36.)
+
+The Sphex plunges her dagger three times into the breast of the cricket,
+because she knows, by an intuition that we cannot comprehend, that the
+locomotor innervation of the cricket is actuated by three nervous centres,
+which lie wide apart. (7/37.)
+
+Finally, the Ammophila, "the highest manifestation of the logic of
+instinct, whose profound knowledge leaves us confounded, stabs the
+caterpillar in nine places, because the body of the victim with which it
+feeds its larvae is a series of rings, set end to end, each of which
+possesses its little independent nervous centre." (7/38.)
+
+This is not all; the genius of the Sphex is not yet at the end of its
+foresight. You have doubtless heard of the comatose state into which the
+wounded fall when, after a fracture of the skull, the brain is compressed
+by a violent haemorrhage or a bony splinter. The physiologists imitate this
+process of nature when they wish, for example, to obtain, in animals under
+experiment, a state of complete immobility. But did the first surgeon who
+thought of trepanning the skull in order to exert on the brain, by means of
+a sponge, a certain degree of compression, ever imagine that an analogous
+procedure had long been employed in the insect world, and that these clumsy
+methods were merely child's play beside the astonishing feats of the
+Unconscious?
+
+For the stab in the thoracic ganglions, however efficacious, is often
+insufficient. Although the six limbs are paralysed, although the victim
+cannot move, its mandibles, "pointed, sharp, serrated, which close like a
+pair of scissors, still remain a menace to the tyrant; they might at least,
+by gripping the surrounding grasses, oppose a more or less effectual
+resistance to the process of carrying off." So the preceding manoeuvres are
+consummated by a kind of garrotting; that is, the insect "takes care to
+compress the brain of its victim, but so as to avoid wounding it; producing
+only a stupor, a simple torpor, a passing lethargy." Is not the ingenious
+observer justified in concluding that "this is alarmingly scientific"?
+
+Between the dry statements of Dufour, which served Fabre as his original
+theme, and the unaccustomed wealth of this vast physiological poetry, what
+a distance has been covered!
+
+How far have we outstripped this barren matter, these shapeless sketches!
+Dufour, another solitary, who retired to his province, in the depth of the
+Landes, was above all a descriptive anatomist, and he limited himself to an
+inventory of the nest of a Cerceris.
+
+For him the Buprestes were dead, and their state of preservation was
+explained simply as a kind of embalming, due to some special action of the
+venom of the Hymenoptera.
+
+These facts, therefore, were stated as simple curiosities.
+
+Fabre proved that these victims possessed all the attributes of life
+excepting movement, by provoking contractions in their members under the
+influence of various stimulants, and by keeping them alive artificially for
+an indefinite period.
+
+On the other hand, he demonstrated the comparative innocuousness of the
+venom of these wasps, some of which, like the great Cerceris or the
+beautiful and formidable Scolia, alarm by their enormous size and their
+terrifying aspect; so that the conservation of the prey could not be due to
+any occult quality, to some more or less active antiseptic virtue of the
+venomous fluid, but simply to the precision of the stab and the miraculous
+deftness of the "surgeon."
+
+He also pointed out the fact that the sting of the insect is able
+immediately to dissociate the nervous system of the vegetative life from
+that of the correlative life, sparing the former, and taking care not to
+wound the abdomen, which contains the ganglions of the great sympathetic
+nerve, while it annihilates the latter, which is more or less concentrated
+along the ventral face of the thoracic region.
+
+He completed this splendid demonstration, not only by provoking under his
+own eyes the "murderous manoeuvres, the intimate and passionate drama," but
+also by reproducing experimentally all these astonishing phenomena;
+expounding their mechanism and their variations with a logic and lucidity,
+an art and sagacity which raise this marvellous observation, one of the
+most beautiful known to science, to the height of the most immortal
+discoveries of physiology. Claude Bernard, in his celebrated experiments,
+certainly exhibited no greater invention, no truer genius.
+
+
+CHAPTER 8. THE MIRACLE OF INSTINCT.
+
+"The Spirit Bloweth Whither it Listeth."
+
+What is this instinct, which guides the insect to such marvellous results?
+Is it merely a degree of intelligence, or some absolutely different form of
+activity?
+
+Is it possible, by studying the habits of animals, to discover some of
+those elementary springs of action whose knowledge would enable us to dive
+more deeply into our own natures?
+
+Fabre has presented us to his Sphex, the "infallible paralyser." Are we to
+credit her not only with memory, but also with the faculty of associating
+ideas, of judgment, and of pursuing a train of reasoning in respect of her
+astonishingly co-ordinated actions?
+
+Put to the question by the malice of the operator, the "transcendent"
+anatomist trips over a mere trifle, and the slightest novelty confounds
+her.
+
+Without the circle of her ordinary habits, what stupidity, "what darkness
+wraps her round"! She retreats; she refuses to understand; "she washes her
+eyes, first passing her hands across her mouth; she assumes a dreamy,
+meditative air." What can she be pondering? Under what form of thought,
+illusion, or mirage does the unfamiliar problem which has obtruded itself
+into her customary life present itself behind those faceted eyes? (8/1.)
+
+How can we tell? We can only attain to knowledge of ourselves by direct
+intuition. It is only the idea of our ego which enables us to conjecture
+what is passing in the brains of our fellows. Between the insect and
+ourselves no understanding is possible, so remote are the analogies between
+its organization and our own; and we can only form idle hypotheses as to
+its states of consciousness and the real motive of its actions.
+
+Consider only that unknown and mysterious energy which the insects display
+in their operations and their labours, as it is in itself, and let us
+content ourselves, first of all, with comparing it to our own intelligence,
+such as we conceive it to be.
+
+In seeking to appreciate whereby it differs perhaps we shall gain more than
+by vainly seeking points of resemblance. We shall discover, in fact, behind
+the insect and its prodigious instincts, a vast and remote horizon, a
+region at once more profound, more extensive, and more fruitful than that
+of the intelligence; and if Fabre is able to help us to decipher a few
+pages of "the most difficult of all volumes, the book of ourselves," it is
+precisely, as a philosopher told him, because "man has remained instinctive
+in process of becoming intelligent." (8/2.)
+
+The work of Fabre is from this point of view an invaluable treasury of
+observations and experiments, and the richest contribution which has ever
+been made to the study of these fascinating problems.
+
+"The function of the intelligence is to reflect, to be conscious; that is,
+to relate the effect to its cause, to add a "because" to a "why"; to remedy
+the accidental; to adapt a new course of conduct to new circumstances."
+
+In relation to the human intelligence thus defined Fabre has considered
+these nervous aptitudes, so well adjusted, according to the evolutionists,
+by ancient habit, that they have finally become impulsive and unconscious,
+and, properly speaking, innate. He has demonstrated, with an abundance of
+proof and a power of argument that we must admire, the blind mechanism
+which determines all the manifestations, even the most extraordinary, of
+that which we call instinct, and which heredity has fixed in a species of
+unchangeable automatism, like the rhythm of the heart and the lungs. (8/3.)
+
+Let us, from this wealth of material, from among the most suggestive
+examples, select some of his most striking demonstrations, which are
+classics of their kind.
+
+Fabre has not attempted to define instinct, for it is indefinable; nor to
+probe its essential nature, which is impenetrable. But to recognize the
+order of nature is in itself a sufficiently fascinating study, without
+striving to crack an unbreakable bone or wasting time in pondering
+insoluble enigmas. The important matter is to avoid the introduction of
+illusions, to beware of exceeding the data of observation and experiment,
+of substituting our own inferences for the facts, of outstripping reality
+and amplifying the marvellous.
+
+Let us listen to the scrupulous analysis whose lessons, scattered through
+four thousand pages, teach us more concerning instinct and its innumerable
+variations than all the most learned treatises and speculations of the
+philosophers.
+
+Nothing in the world perplexes the mind of the observer like the spectacle
+of the birth and growth of the instincts.
+
+At precisely the right moment, just as failure or disaster seems
+foreordained by the previously established circumstances, Fabre shows us
+his insects as suddenly mastered by an irresistible force.
+
+"At the right moment" they invincibly obey some sort of mysterious and
+inflexible prescription. Without apprenticeship, they perform the very
+actions required, and blindly accomplish their destiny.
+
+Then, the moment having passed, the instincts "disappear and do not
+reawaken. A few days more or less modify the talents, and what the young
+insect knew the adult has often forgotten." (8/4.)
+
+Among the Lycosae, at the moment of exodus, a sudden instinct is evolved
+which a few hours later disappears never to return. It is the climbing
+instinct, unknown to the adult spider, and soon forgotten by the
+emancipated young, who are destined to roam upon the face of the earth. But
+the young Lycosae, anxious to leave the maternal home and to travel, become
+suddenly ardent climbers and aeronauts, each releasing a long, light thread
+which serves it as parachute. The voyage accomplished, no trace of this
+ingenuity is left. Suddenly acquired, the climbing instinct no less
+suddenly disappears. (8/5.)
+
+The great historiographer of instinct has thrown a wonderful light, by his
+beautiful experiments relating to the nidification of the mason-bee, upon
+the indissoluble succession of its different phases; the lineal
+concatenation, the inevitable and necessary order which presides over each
+of these nervous discharges of which the total series constitutes, properly
+speaking, a mode of action.
+
+The mason-bee continues to build upon the ready-completed nest presented to
+her. She obstinately insists upon provisioning a cell already duly filled
+with the quantity of honey required by the larva, because, in this case as
+in the other, the impulse which incites her to build or to provision the
+nest has not yet been exhausted.
+
+On the other hand, if we empty the little cup of its contents when she has
+filled it she will not recommence her labours. "The process of provisioning
+being complete, the secret impulse which urged her to collect her honey is
+no longer active. The insect therefore ceases to store her honey, and, in
+spite of this accident, lays her egg in the empty cell, thus leaving the
+future nursling without nourishment." (8/6.)
+
+In the case of the Pelopaeus, Fabre calls our attention to one of the most
+instructive physiological spectacles that can be imagined.
+
+While the mason-bee does not notice that her cell has been emptied, the
+Pelopaeus cannot perceive that the tricks of the experimenter have resulted
+in the disappearance of her progeny; and she "continues to store away
+spiders for a germ that no longer exists; she perseveres untiringly in her
+useless hunting, as though the future of her larva depended on it; she
+amasses provisions which will feed no one; more, she pushes aberration to
+the extent of plastering even the place where her nest was if we remove it,
+giving the last strokes of the trowel to an imaginary building, and putting
+her seals upon empty nothing." (8/7.)
+
+>From these facts, and others, no less celebrated, which show "the inability
+of insects to escape from the routine of their customs and their habitual
+labours," Fabre derives so many proofs of their lack of intelligence.
+
+The Epeïra fasciata is incapable of replacing a single radial thread in the
+geometrical structure of its web, when broken; it recommences the entire
+web every evening, and weaves it at one stretch with the most beautiful
+mastery, as though merely amusing itself.
+
+The caterpillar of the Greater Peacock moth teaches us the same lesson;
+when occupied in weaving its cocoon it does not know how to repair an
+artificial rent; and "in spite of the certainty of its death, or rather
+that of the future butterfly, it quietly continues to spin, without
+troubling to cover the rent; devoting itself to a superfluous task, and
+ignoring the treacherous breach, which leaves the cocoon and its inhabitant
+at the mercy of the first thief that finds it." (8/8.)
+
+Thus "because one action has just been performed, another must inevitably
+be performed to complete the first; what is done is done, and is never
+repeated. Like the watercourse, which cannot climb the hills and return to
+its source, the insect does not retrace its steps or repeat its actions,
+which follow one another invariably, and are inevitably connected in a
+necessary order, like a series of echoes, one of which awakens
+another...The insect knows nothing of its marvellous talents, just as the
+stomach knows nothing of its cunning chemistry. It builds like a
+bricklayer, weaves, hunts, stabs, and paralyses, as it secretes the venom
+of its weapons, the silk of its cocoon, the wax of its comb, or the threads
+of its web; always without the slightest knowledge of the means and the
+end." (8/9.)
+
+Thus instinct is one thing and intelligence is another; and for Fabre there
+is no transition which can transform the one into the other.
+
+But how profound and abundant, how infinite is the source from which this
+manifold activity derives, distributed as it is throughout the entire
+animal kingdom; and which in ourselves commands the profoundest part of our
+nature; unconscious, or even in opposition to our wonderful intelligence,
+which it often silences or altogether overwhelms.
+
+Although the insect "has no need of lessons from its elders" in order to
+accomplish its beautiful masterpieces, the comprehensive concept of the
+genius which rises spontaneously and at a single step to the loftiest
+conceptions is not always a product of pure reason.
+
+Compare the sublime logic of animal maternity, the impeccable dictates of
+instinct, with the hesitations, the gropings, the uncertainties, the errors
+and tragic failures of human maternity, when it seeks to replace the
+unerring commands of instinct by the clumsy efforts of the intelligence!
+
+If all is darkness to the animal, apart from its habitual paths, how feeble
+and hesitating, how faltering and unequal is reason when it seeks to oppose
+its laborious inductions to the infallible wisdom of the unconscious!
+
+It is, in fact, to this concatenation of actions, narrowly connected by a
+mutual dependence, that we owe this inexhaustible series of cunning
+industries and wonderful arts. To Fabre they are so many feats of a learned
+unconsciousness.
+
+"See the nest, the accustomed masterpiece of mothers; it is more often than
+otherwise an animal fruit, a coffer full of germs, containing eggs in place
+of seeds."
+
+The satin bag of the Epeïra fasciata, in which her eggs are enclosed,
+"breaks at the caress of the sun, like the skin of an over-ripe
+pomegranate."
+
+The Dorthesia, the louse inhabiting the euphorbia, "trebles the length of
+her body, prolonging its hinder part into a pouch, comparable to that of
+the opossum, into which the eggs are dropped, and in which the young are
+hatched, to leave it afterwards at will." (8/10.)
+
+The Chermes of the ilex "hardens into a rampart of ebony, whence an
+innumerable legion of vermin bursts forth one day without changing their
+place."
+
+The capsule of gold-beater's skin, in which the grubs of the Cione are
+enclosed, divides itself, at the moment of liberation, into two hemispheres
+"of a regularity so perfect that they recall exactly the bursting of the
+pyxidium when the seed is distributed." (8/11.)
+
+Here and there, however, we catch a glimpse of a rudiment of what we
+understand by consciousness, in the shape of a "vague discrimination."
+
+Each plant has its lover, drawn to it by a kind of elective affinity and
+invariable tendency. The Larra makes for the thistle, the Vanessa for the
+nettle, the Clytus for the ilex, and the Crioceris for the lily. "The
+weevil knows nothing but its peas and beans, the golden Rhynchites only the
+sloe, and the Balaninus only the nut or acorn."
+
+But the Pieris, which haunts the cabbage, frequents the nasturtium also,
+and the golden rose-beetle, which "intoxicates itself at the clusters of
+the hawthorn," is no less addicted to the nectar of the rose.
+
+The Xylocopa, which burrows in the trunks of trees and old rafters, forming
+little round corridors in which to lodge her offspring, "will utilize
+artificial galleries which she has not herself bored."
+
+The Chalicodoma "also is aware of the economic advantages of an old
+abandoned nest"; the Anthophora is careful to establish her family "at the
+least expense," and profits on occasion by galleries which have been mined
+by previous generations; adapting herself to these new conditions, she
+repairs the tunnels which she did not construct "and economizes her
+forces." (8/12.)
+
+It would seem, therefore, that these tiny minds are created and shaped by
+means of experience; they recognize "that which is most fitting"; they
+learn, they compare; may we not also say that they judge?
+
+Does not the Mason-bee, "which rakes the roads for a dry powdery dust and
+mixes it with saliva to convert it into a hard cement," foresee that this
+mud will harden?
+
+Is the Pelopaeus devoid of judgment when she seeks the interior of
+dwelling-houses in order to shelter her nest of dried clay, which the least
+drop of rain would reduce to its original state of mud?
+
+Is it without knowledge of the effects that the sloe-weevil builds a
+ventilating chimney to prevent the asphyxiation of her larva? that the
+Scarabaeus sacer contrives a filter at the smaller end of its pear-shaped
+ball, by means of which the grub is able to breathe? or that Arachne
+labyrintha "introduces in her silk-work a rampart of compressed earth to
+protect her eggs from the probe of the Ichneumon"?
+
+May we not also see a masterpiece of the highest logic in the house of the
+trap-door spider, Arachne clotho, which is furnished with a door, a true
+door "which she throws open with a push of the leg, and carefully bolts
+behind her on returning by means of a little silk"? (8/13.)
+
+What a miracle of invention too is the prodigious nest of the Eumenes,
+"with its egg suspended by a thread from the roof, like a pendulum,
+oscillating at the lightest breath in order to save it from contact with
+the caterpillars, which, incompletely paralysed, are wriggling and writhing
+below"! Later, when the egg is hatched, "the filament is transformed into a
+tube, a place of refuge, up which the grub clambers backwards. At the least
+sign of danger from the mass of caterpillars the larva retreats into its
+sheath and ascends to the roof, where the wriggling swarm cannot reach it."
+(8/14.)
+
+Let us refer also to the remarkable history of the Copris. We cannot deny
+that the valiant dung-beetle is capable of "evading the accidental" (which
+to Fabre constitutes one of the distinctive characteristics of the
+intelligence), since it immediately intervenes if with the point of a
+penknife we open the roof of its nest and lay bare its egg. "The fragments
+raised by the knife are immediately brought together and soldered, so that
+no trace is left of the injury, and all is once more in order." We may read
+also with what incredible address the mother Copris was able to use and to
+profit by the ready-made pellets of cow-dung which it occurred to Fabre to
+offer her. (8/15.)
+
+But their scope is limited, and encroaches very little, in the eyes of the
+great observer, on the domain of intelligence. This he demonstrates to
+satiety, and his astonishing Necrophori, which adapt themselves so
+admirably to circumstances and triumph over the experimental difficulties
+to which he subjects them, seem scarcely to exceed the limits of those
+actions which at bottom are merely unconscious. (8/16.)
+
+With the spawning of the Osmia, Fabre throws a fresh and unexpected light
+on the intuitive knowledge of instinct.
+
+We are still groping our way among the causes which rule the determination
+of the sexes. Biology has only been able to throw a few scattered lights on
+the subject, and we possess only a few approximate data; which nevertheless
+are turned to account by the breeders of insects. We are still in the
+region of illusion and imperfect prognostics.
+
+But the Osmia knows what we do not. She is deeply versed in all
+physiological and anatomical knowledge, and in the faculty of creating
+children of either sex at will.
+
+These pretty bees, "with coppery skin and fleece of ruddy velvet," which
+establish their progeny in the hollow of a bramble stump, the cavity of a
+reed, or the winding staircase of an empty snail-shell, know the fixed and
+immutable genetic laws which we can only guess at, and are never mistaken.
+
+This marvellous prerogative the Osmia shares with a host of apiaries, in
+which the unequal development of the males and females requires an unequal
+provision of space and of nourishment for the future larvae. For the
+females, who exceed in point of size, huge cells and abundant provision;
+for the more puny males, narrow cells and a smaller ration of pollen and
+honey.
+
+Now the circumstances which are encountered by the Osmia, when, pressed by
+the necessities of spawning, she searches for a dwelling, are often
+fortuitous and incapable of modification; and in order to give each set of
+larvae the necessary space "she lays at will a male or a female egg,
+according to the conditions of space."
+
+In this marvellous study, which constitutes, with the history of the
+Cerceris, the finest masterpiece of experimental entomology, Fabre
+brilliantly establishes all the details of that curious law which in the
+Hymenoptera rules both the distribution and the succession of the sexes. In
+his artificial hives, in glass cylinders, he forces the Osmia to commence
+her spawning with the males, instead of beginning with the females as
+nature requires, since the insect is primarily preoccupied with the more
+important sex, that which ensures par excellence the perpetuation of the
+species. He even forces the whole swarm which buzzes about his work-tables,
+his books, his bottles, and apparatus, completely to change the order of
+its spawning. He shows finally that in the heart of the ovaries the egg of
+the Osmia has as yet no determined sex, and that it is only at the precise
+moment when the egg is on the point of emerging from the oviduct that it
+receives, AT THE WILL OF THE MOTHER, the mysterious, final, and inevitable
+imprint.
+
+But whence does the Osmia derive this, "distinct idea of the invisible"?
+Here again is one of those riddles of nature which Fabre declares himself
+quite incapable of solving. (8/17.)
+
+Is this all? No; we are far from having made the tour of this miraculous
+and incommensurable kingdom through which this admirable master leads us,
+and I should never be done were I to attempt to exhaust all the spectacles
+which he offers us. Let us descend yet another step, among creatures yet
+smaller and humbler. We shall find tendencies, impulses, preferences,
+efforts, intentions, "Machiavellic ruses and unheard-of stratagems."
+
+Certain miserable black mites, living specks, the larvae of a beetle, one
+of the Meloidae, the Sitaris, are parasites of the solitary bee, the
+Anthophora. They wait patiently all the winter at the entrance of her
+tunnel, on the slope of a sunny bank, for the springtime emergence of the
+young bees, as yet imprisoned in their cells of clay. A male Anthophora,
+hatched a little earlier than the females, appears in the entrance of the
+tunnel; these mites, which are armed with robust talons, rouse themselves,
+hasten to and fro, hook themselves to his fleece, and accompany him in all
+his peregrinations; but they quickly recognize their error; for these
+animated specks are well aware that the males, occupied all day long in
+scouring the country and pillaging the flowers, live exclusively out of
+doors, and would in no wise serve their end. But the moment comes when the
+Anthophora pays court to the fair sex, and the imperceptible creature
+immediately profits by the amorous encounter to change its winged courser.
+"These pigmies therefore have a memory, an experience of facts" (and how
+one is tempted to add, a glimmering of intelligence!). Grappled now to the
+female bee, the grub of the Sitaris "conceals itself, and allows itself to
+be carried by her" to the end of the gallery in which she is now contriving
+her cradle, "watches the precise moment when the egg is laid, installs
+itself upon it, and allows itself to fall therewith upon the surface of the
+honey, in order to substitute itself for the future offspring of the
+Anthophora, and possess itself of house and victuals." (8/18.)
+
+Another "little gelatinous speck," "a shadow of a creature," the larva of a
+Chalcidian, the Leucopsis, one of the parasites of the Mason-bee, knows
+that in the cell of the mason there is food for one only. Scarcely has it
+entered the tiny dwelling but we see this "nameless shape" for several days
+"anxiously wandering; it visits the top and bottom, the back, the front,
+the sides"; it makes the tour of its domain; "it searches in the darkness,
+palpitating, seemingly with an object in view." What does this "animated
+globule" want? why is this atom so excited? It is searching to discover if
+there is not in some corner hitherto unexplored another larva, a rival,
+that it may exterminate it! (8/19.)
+
+What then intrinsically is instinct? And what intrinsically is
+intelligence?
+
+How can we propose to draw up the inexhaustible inventory of all the
+manifestations of life, and why attempt to include all its species and
+their unknown varieties in narrow classes? Why say that there are only two
+modes of life, instinct on the one hand and intelligence on the other,
+"when we know how subtle and illusive is this Proteus, and that there are
+not two things only, but a thousand dissimilar things" (8/20.): or rather
+is it not always the same thing, everywhere present and acting in living
+matter, and susceptible of infinite degrees, under forms and disguises
+innumerable?
+
+This is why it escapes the "scalpel of the masters" and the apparatus of
+the chemists. We may dissect, we may scrutinize organs under the magnifying
+glass, examine wing-cases, count the nervures of the wings, the number of
+articulations in the limbs; we may reckon every point, like Réaumur
+forgetting not a line, not a hair; we may compare and measure every portion
+of the mouth, and define the class; and we shall not find a single point in
+all this physical architecture which will positively inform us of the
+habits of the insect. Of what account are a few slight differences? It is
+in the physical far more than in the anatomical differences that the
+inviolable demarcation between two species exists. Instincts dominate
+forms; the tool does not make the artisan; "and none of these various
+structures, however well adapted they may appear to us, bears within it its
+reason or its finality."
+
+Thus whatever opinion we may hold as to the nature of instinct, the
+accomplishments and habits of insects are not, properly speaking, connected
+with the external and visible form of their organs, and their acts do not
+necessarily presuppose the instruments which would be appropriate to them.
+
+We know that with most organisms, and particularly with plants, an almost
+imperceptible variation in material circumstances is often enough to modify
+their character and to produce fresh aptitudes. Nevertheless, we can but
+wonder, with Fabre, that physical modifications, which, when they do exist,
+are so slight always as to have escaped the most perfect observation,
+should have sufficed to determine the appearance of profoundly dissimilar
+faculties. Inexplicable abilities, unexpected habits, unforeseen physical
+aptitudes, and unheard-of industries are exercised by means of organs which
+are here and there practically identical. "The same tools are equally good
+for any purpose. Talent alone is able to adapt them to manifold ends."
+
+The Anthidia have two particular industries; "those which felt cotton and
+card the soft down of hairy plants have the same claws, the same mandibles,
+composed of the same portions as those which knead resin and mix it with
+fine gravel." (8/21.)
+
+The sloe-weevil "bores the hard stone of the sloe with the same rostrum as
+that which its congeners, so like it in conformation, employ to roll the
+leaves of the vine and the poplar into tiny cigars."
+
+The implement of the Megachile, the rose-fly, is by no means appropriate to
+its industry; "yet the perfectly circular fragments of leaves have the
+precise perfection of form that a punch would give."
+
+The Xylocopa, in order to pierce wood and to bore its galleries in an old
+rafter, employs "the same utensils which in others are transformed into
+picks and mattocks to attack clay and gravel, and it is only a
+predisposition of talent that holds each worker to his speciality."
+
+Moreover, have not the superior animals the same senses and the same
+structure, yet what inequality there is among them, in the matter of
+aptitudes and degrees of intelligence!
+
+Habits are no more determined by anatomical peculiarities than are
+aptitudes or industries.
+
+The two Goat-moth caterpillars, of similar structure, have entirely
+different stomachic aptitudes; "the exclusive portion of the one is the oak
+and of the other the hawthorn or the cherry-laurel."
+
+"Whence does the Mantis derive its excessive hunger, its pugnacity, its
+cannibalism, and the Empusa its sobriety, its peaceableness, when their
+almost identical organization would seem to indicate an identity of needs,
+instincts, and habits?"
+
+In the same way the black scorpion appears to present none of the
+interesting peculiarities which we observe in the habits of its congener,
+the white scorpion of Languedoc. (8/22.)
+
+Structure, therefore, tells us nothing of aptitude; the organ does not
+explain its function. Let the specialists hypnotize themselves over their
+lenses and microscopes; they may accumulate at leisure masses of details
+relating to this or that family or genus or individual; they may undertake
+the most subtle inquiries, may write thousands and thousands of pages in
+order to detail a few slight variations, without even succeeding in
+exhausting the matter: they will not even have seen what is most wonderful.
+
+When the little insect has for the last time cleaned its claws, the secret
+of the little mind has fled for ever, with all the feelings that animated
+it and gave it life. That which is crystallized in death cannot explain
+what was life. This is the thought which the Provençal singer, with that
+intuition which is the privilege of genius, has expressed in these
+melodious lines:
+
+"Oh! pau de sèn qu'emé l'escaupre
+Furnant la mort, creson de saupre,
+La vertu de l'abiho e lou secrèt doù méu."
+
+(O men of little sense, who seek,
+Scalpel in hand, to make Death tell
+The virtue of the bee, the secret of her cell!) (8/23.)
+
+
+CHAPTER 9. EVOLUTION OR "TRANSFORMISM."
+
+"How did a miserable grub acquire its marvellous knowledge? Are its habits,
+its aptitudes, and its industries the integration of the infinitely little,
+acquired by successive experiences on the limitless path of time?"
+
+It is in these words that Fabre presents the problem of evolution.
+
+Difficult though it may be to follow the sequence of forms which have
+endlessly succeeded and replaced one another on the face of the earth,
+since the beginning of the world, it is certain that all living creatures
+are closely related; and the magnificent and fertile hypothesis of
+evolution, which seeks to explain how extant forms are derived from
+extinct, has the immense advantage of giving a plausible reason for the
+majority of the facts which at least cease to be completely unintelligible.
+
+Otherwise we can certainly never imagine how so many instincts, and these
+so complex and perfect, could have issued suddenly "from the urn of
+hazard."
+
+But Fabre will suppose nothing; he will only record the facts. Instead of
+wandering in the region of probabilities, he prefers to confine himself to
+the reality, and for the rest to reply simply that "we do not know."
+
+This stern, positive, rigorous, independent, and observant mind, nourished
+upon geometry and the exact sciences, which has never been able to content
+itself with approximations and probabilities, could but distrust the
+seductions of hypotheses.
+
+His robust common sense, which was always his protection against
+precipitate conclusions, too clearly comprehends the limits of science and
+the necessity of accumulating facts "upon the thorny path of observation
+and experiment" to indulge in generalization. He feels that life has
+secrets which our minds are powerless to probe, and that "human knowledge
+will be erased from the archives of the world before we know the last word
+concerning the smallest fly."
+
+This is why he was regarded as "suspect" by the company of official
+scientists, to whom he was a dissenter, almost a traitor, especially at a
+moment when the theories of evolution, then in the first flush of their
+novelty, were everywhere the cause of a general elation.
+
+No one as yet was capable of divining the man of the future in this modest
+thinker who would not accept the word of the masters interested, but in
+opposing the theory of transformation, far from being reactionary, Fabre
+revealed himself, at least in the domain of animal psychology, as an
+innovator, a true precursor.
+
+Moreover, his observations, always so direct and personal, often revealed
+the contrary of what was asserted or foreseen by the magic formulae
+suggested by the mind.
+
+To the ingenious mechanism invented by the transformists he preferred to
+oppose, not contrary argument, but the naked undeniable fact, the obvious
+testimony, the certain and irrefragable example. "Is it," he would ask
+them, "to repulse their enemies that certain caterpillars smear themselves
+with a corrosive product? But the larva of the Calosoma sycophanta, which
+feeds on the Processional caterpillar of the oak-tree, pays no heed to it,
+neither does the Dermestes, which feeds on the entrails of the Processional
+caterpillar of the pine-tree."
+
+And consider mimicry. According to the theory of evolution, certain insects
+would utilize their resemblance to certain others in order to conceal
+themselves, and to introduce themselves into the dwellings of the latter as
+parasites living at their expense. Such would be the case with the
+Volucella, a large fly whose costume, striped with brown and yellow bands,
+gives it a rude resemblance to the wasp. Obliged, if not for its own sake
+at least for that of its family, to force itself into the wasp's dwelling
+as a parasite, it deceitfully dresses itself, we are told, in the livery of
+its victim, thus affording the most curious and striking example of
+mimicry; and naturalists insufficiently informed would regard it as one of
+the greatest triumphs of evolution.
+
+Now what does the Volucella do? It is true that it lays its eggs without
+being disturbed in the nest of the wasp. But, as the rigorous observer will
+tell you, it is a precious auxiliary and not an enemy of the community. Its
+grubs, far from disguising or concealing themselves, "come and go openly
+upon the combs, although every stranger is immediately massacred and thrown
+out." Moreover, "they watch the hygiene of the city by clearing the nest of
+its dead and ridding the larvae of the wasps of their excretory products."
+Plunging successively into each chamber of the dormitory the forepart of
+their bodies, "they provoke the emission of that fluid excrement of which
+the larvae, owing to their cloistration, contain an extreme reserve." In a
+word, the grubs of the Volucella "are the nurses of the larvae," performing
+the most intimate duties." (9/1.)
+
+What an astonishing conclusion! What a disconcerting and unexpected reply
+to the "theories in vogue"!
+
+Fabre, however, with his poetic temperament and ardent imagination, seemed
+admirably prepared to grasp all that vast network of relations by which all
+creatures are connected; but what proves the solidity of his imperishable
+work is that all theories, all doctrines, and all systems may resort to it
+in turn and profit by his proofs and arguments.
+
+And he himself, although he boasts with so much reason of putting forward
+no pretensions, no theories, no systems, has he not even so yielded
+somewhat to the suggestions of the prevailing school of thought, and have
+not his verdicts against evolution often been the more excessive in that he
+has paid so notable a tribute to the evolutionary progress of creation?
+
+In the first place, he is far from excluding the undeniable influence of
+environing causes; the immense role of those myriad external circumstances
+on which Lamarck so strongly insisted; but the work of these factors is, in
+his eyes, only accessory and wholly secondary in the economy of nature; and
+in any case it is far from explaining the definite direction and the
+transcendent harmony which characterize evolution, both in its totality and
+in its most infinitesimal details.
+
+In one of his admirable little textbooks, intended to teach and to
+popularize science, he complacently enumerates the happy modifications
+effected by that "sublime magician," selection as understood by Darwin. He
+evokes the metamorphoses of the potato, which, on the mountains of Chili,
+is merely a wretched venomous tubercle, and those of the cabbage, which on
+the rocky face of oceanic precipices is nothing but a weed, "with a tall
+stem and scanty disordered leaves of a crude green, an acrid savour, and a
+rank smell"; he speaks of wheat, formerly a poor unknown grass; the
+primitive pear-tree "an ugly intractable thorny bush, with detestable
+bitter fruit"; the wild celery, which grows beside ponds, "green all over,
+hard, with a repulsive flavour, and which gradually becomes tenderer,
+sweeter, whiter," and "ceases to distil its poison." (9/2.)
+
+With profound exactitude this great biologist has also perceived the degree
+to which size may be modified; may dwindle to dwarfness when a niggardly
+soil refuses to furnish beast and plant alike with a sufficient
+nourishment.
+
+Without any communication with the other scientists who were occupied by
+the same questions, knowing nothing of the results which these
+experimenters had attained in the case of small mammiferous animals, and
+which prove that dwarfness has often no other cause than physiological
+poverty, he confirmed and expanded their ideas from an entomological point
+of view. (9/3.)
+
+Scarcely ever, indeed, was he first inspired by the doings of others in
+this or that direction; he read scarcely anything, and nature was his sole
+teacher. He considered that the knowledge to be obtained from books is but
+so much vapour compared with the realities; he borrowed only from himself,
+and resorted directly to the facts as nature presented them. One has only
+to see his scanty library of odd volumes to be convinced how little he owes
+to others, whether writers or workers.
+
+A true naturalist philosopher, this profound observer has also thrown a
+light upon certain singular anomalies which, in the insect world, seem to
+constitute an exception, at all events in our Europe, to the general rules.
+It is not only to the curiosity and for the amusement of entomologists that
+he proposes these curious anatomical problems, but also, and chiefly, to
+the Darwinian wisdom of the evolutionists.
+
+Why, for example, is the Scarabaeus sacer born and why does it remain
+maimed all its life; that is to say, deprived of all the digits on the
+anterior limbs?
+
+"If it is true that every change in the form of an appendage is only the
+sign of a habit, a special instinct, or a modification in the conditions of
+life, the theory of evolution should endeavour to account for this
+mutilation, for these creatures are, like all others, constructed on the
+same plan and provided with absolutely the same appendages."
+
+The posterior limbs of the Geotrupes stercorarius, "perfectly developed in
+the adult, are atrophied in the larvae, reduced to mere specks."
+
+The general history of the species, of its migrations and its changes, will
+doubtless one day throw light upon these strange infirmities, here
+temporary and there permanent, which may perhaps be explained by unforeseen
+encounters with undiscovered specimens, strayed perhaps into distant
+countries. (9/4.)
+
+What invaluable documents for the entomologist and the historian of the
+evolution of the species are those multiple and fabulous metamorphoses of
+the Sitares and the Meloïdae which this indefatigable inquirer has revealed
+in all their astonishing phases!
+
+One of the finest examples of scientific investigation is the pursuit,
+through a period of twenty-five years, with a sagacity which seems to
+border on divination, of this problem of HYPER-METAMORPHOSIS. The larvae of
+those coleoptera which we have seen introduced, with infernal cunning, into
+the cells of the Anthophora (See Chapter 8 above.), suffer no less than
+four moults before they become nymphs.
+
+These merely external transformations, which involve only the envelope, and
+respect the internal structure, correspond each with a change of
+environment and of diet. Each time the organism adapts itself to its new
+mode of existence, "as perfectly as when it becomes adult"; and we see the
+insect, which was clear-sighted, become blind; it loses its feet, to
+recover them later; its slender body becomes ventripotent; hard, it grows
+soft; its mandibles, at first steely, become hollowed out spoonwise, each
+modification of conformation having its motive in a fresh modification of
+the conditions of the creature's life.
+
+How explain this strange evolution of a fourfold larval existence, these
+successive appearances of organs, which become entirely unlike what they
+were, to serve functions each time different?
+
+What is the reason, the intention, the high law which presides over these
+visible changes, these successive envelopments of creatures one within the
+other, these multiple transfigurations?
+
+By what bygone adaptations has the Sitaris successively acquired these
+diverse extraordinary phases of life, indicating possibly for each
+corresponding age some ancient and remote heredity? (9/5.)
+
+How many other arguments might evolution derive from his books, and what
+illustrations of the Darwinian philosophy has he unconsciously furnished!
+Does he not even allow the admission to escape him that "the spirit of
+cunning and deception is transmitted"? He sees in the persecutions of the
+Dytiscus, the "pirate of the ponds," the origin of the faculty which the
+Phryganea has of refashioning its shield when demanded of it. "To evade the
+assault of the brigand, the Phryganea must hastily abandon its mantle; it
+allows itself to sink to the bottom, and promptly removes itself; necessity
+is the mother of invention." (9/6.)
+
+Returning to the lacunae which it so amazes Fabre to discover in our
+organization, even in the most perfect of us, are they fundamentally very
+real? These mysterious and unknown senses which he has so greatly
+contributed to elucidate in the case of the inferior species: why, he asks,
+have we not inherited them, if we are truly the final term and the supreme
+goal of creation?
+
+But in cultivating our intuition, as Bergson invites us to do, would it be
+impossible to re-awaken, deep within us, these strange faculties, which
+perhaps are only slumbering? What of that species of indefinable memory
+which permits the red ant, the Bembex, the Cerceris, the Pompilus, the
+Chalicodoma and so many others to "find themselves," to orientate
+themselves with infallible certainty and incredible accuracy? Is it not to
+be found, according to travellers, in those men who have remained close to
+nature and accustomed from their remotest origins to listen to the silence
+of the great deserts?
+
+Finally, the evolutionists, who "reconstruct the world in imagination," and
+who see in the relationship of neighbouring species a proof of descent or
+derivation, and a whole ideal series, will not fail to perceive throughout
+his work, in the elementary operations of the Eumenes and the Odynerus,
+cousins of the Cerceris, which sting their prey in places as yet ill
+determined, not indeed so many isolated attempts, but an incomplete process
+of invention, an attempt at procedures still in the fact of formation: in a
+word, the birth of that marvellous instinct which ends in the transcendent
+art of the Sphex and the Ammophila.
+
+Although they have acquired such prodigious deftness, these master
+paralysers are not, in fact, always infallible. Occasionally the Sphex
+blunders and gropes, "operates clumsily"; the cricket revives, gets upon
+its feet, turns round and round, and tries to walk. But, inquires Fabre, do
+you say that having profited by a fortuitous act, which has turned out to
+be favourable to them, they have perfected themselves by contact with their
+elders, "thanks to the imitation of example," and that they have thus
+crystallized their experiences, which have been transmitted by heredity--
+thereby fixed in the race? (9/7.)
+
+How much we should prefer that it were so! How much more comprehensible and
+interesting their life would become!
+
+But "when the hymenopteron breaks its cocoon, where are its masters! Its
+predecessors have long ago disappeared. How then can it receive education
+by example?"
+
+You who "shape the world to your whim," you will reply: "Doubtless there
+are no longer masters to-day; but go back to the first ages of the globe,
+when the world in its newness, as Lucretius has so superbly said, as yet
+knew neither bitter cold nor excessive heat (9/8.); an eternal springtide
+bathed the earth, and the insects, not dying, as to-day, at the first touch
+of frost, two successive generations lived side by side, and the younger
+generation could profit at leisure by the lessons of example." (9/9.)
+
+Let us return to Fabre's laboratory, to the covers of wire-gauze, and note
+what becomes, at the approach of winter, of the survivors of the vespine
+city.
+
+In the mild and comfortable retreat where the wasps are kept under
+observation they die no less, despite their well-being and all the care
+expended on them, when once "the inexorable hour" has struck, and once the
+exact capital of life which seems to have been imparted to them ages ago is
+exhausted. With no apparent cause, we see death busy among them. "Suddenly
+the wasps begin to fall as though struck by lightning; for a few moments
+the abdomen quivers and the legs gesticulate, then finally remain inert,
+like a clockwork machine whose spring has run down to the last coil."
+(9/10.) This law is general; "the insect is born orphaned both of mother
+and father, excepting the social insect, and again excepting the dung-
+beetle, which dies full of days." (9/11.)
+
+Moreover, Fabre is never weary of demonstrating that the insect, perfectly
+unconscious of the motive which makes it act, this thereby incapable of
+profiting by the lessons of experience and of innovation in its habits,
+beyond a very narrow circle. "No apprentices, no masters." In this world
+each obeys "the inner voice" on its own account; each sets itself to
+accomplish its task, not only without troubling as to what its neighbour is
+doing, but without thinking any further as to what it is doing itself;
+instance the Epeïra, turning its back on its work, yet "the latter proceeds
+of itself, so well is the mechanism devised"; and if by ill chance the
+spider acted otherwise it would probably fail.
+
+Darwin knew barely the tenth part of the colossal work of Fabre. He had
+read firstly in the "Annals of Natural Science" of the habits of the
+Cerceris and the fabulous history of the Meloidae. Finally he saw the first
+volume of the "Souvenirs" appear, and was interested in the highest degree
+by the beautiful study on the sense of location and direction in the Mason-
+bees.
+
+This was already more than enough to excite his curiosity and to make him
+wonder whether all his philosophy would not stumble over this obstacle.
+
+After having succeeded in explaining so luminously--and with what a lofty
+purview--the origin of species and the whole concatenation of animal forms,
+would it not be as though he halted midway in his task were the sanctuary
+of the origin of instinct to remain for ever inscrutable?
+
+Fabre had not yet left Orange when Darwin engaged in a curious
+correspondence which lasted until the former had been nearly two years at
+Sérignan, and which showed how passionately interested the great theorist
+of evolution was in all the Frenchman's surprising observations.
+
+It seems that on his side Fabre took a singular interest in the discussion
+on account of the absolute sincerity, the obvious desire to arrive at the
+truth, and also the ardent interest in his own studies, of which Darwin's
+letters were full. He conceived a veritable affection for Darwin, and
+commenced to learn English, the better to understand him and to reply more
+precisely; and a discussion on such a subject between these two great
+minds, who were, apparently, adversaries, but who had conceived an infinite
+respect for one another, promised to be prodigiously interesting.
+
+Unhappily death was soon to put an end to it, and when the solitary of Down
+expired in 1882 the hermit of Sérignan saluted his great shade with real
+emotion. How many times have I heard him render homage to this illustrious
+memory!
+
+But the furrow was traced; thenceforth Fabre never ceased to multiply his
+pin-pricks in "the vast and luminous balloon of transformism (evolution),
+in order to empty it and expose it in all its inanity." (9/12.) By no means
+the least original feature of his work is this passionate and incisive
+argument, in which, with a remarkable power of dialectic, and at times in a
+tone of lively banter, he endeavoured to remove "this comfortable pillow
+from those who have not the courage to inquire into its fundamental
+nature." He attacked these "adventurous syntheses, these superb and
+supposedly philosophic deductions," all the more eagerly because he himself
+had an unshakable faith in the absolute certainty of his own discoveries,
+and because he asserted the reality of things only after he had observed
+and re-observed them to satiety.
+
+This is why he cared so little to engage in argument relating to his own
+works; he did not care for discussion; he was indifferent to the daily
+press; he avoided criticism and controversy, and never replied to the
+attacks which were made upon him; he rather took pains to surround himself
+with silence until the day when he felt that his researches were ripe and
+ready for publicity.
+
+He wrote to his dear friend Devillario, shortly after Darwin's death:
+
+"I have made a rule of never replying to the remarks, whether favourable or
+the reverse, which my writings may evoke. I go my own gait, indifferent
+whether the gallery applauds or hisses. To seek the truth is my only
+preoccupation. If some are dissatisfied with the result of my observations-
+-if their pet theories are damaged thereby--let them do the work
+themselves, to see whether the facts tell another story. My problem cannot
+be solved by polemics; patient study alone can throw a little light on the
+subject. (9/13.)
+
+"I am profoundly indifferent to what the newspapers may say about me," he
+wrote to his brother seventeen years later; "it is enough for me if I am
+pretty well satisfied with my own work." (9/14.)
+
+He read all the letters he received only in a superficial manner,
+neglecting to thank those who praised or congratulated him, and above all
+shrinking from all that idle correspondence in which life is wasted without
+aim or profit.
+
+"I fume and swear when I have to cut into my morning in order to reply to
+so-and-so who sends me, in print or manuscript, his meed of praise; if I
+were not careful I should have no time left for far more important work."
+
+His beloved Frédéric, "the best of his friends," was himself often treated
+no better, and to excuse his silence and the infrequency of his letters,
+Henri, even in the years spent at Carpentras and Ajaccio, could plead only
+the same reasons; his stupendous labours, his exhausting task, "which
+overwhelmed him, and was often too great, not for his courage, but for his
+time and his strength." (9/15.)
+
+Nevertheless, while evading the question of origins, his far-sighted
+intellect was bound to "read from the facts" concerning the genesis of new
+species in process of evolution; and his observations throw a singular
+light on the quite recent theory of sudden mutations.
+
+The nymph of the Onthophagus presents "a strange paraphernalia of horns and
+spurs which the organism has produced in a moment of ardour--a luxurious
+panoply which vanishes in the adult."
+
+The nymph of the Oniticella also decks itself in "a temporary horn, which
+departs when it emerges."
+
+And "as the dung-beetle is recent in the general chronology of creatures,
+as it takes rank among the last comers, as the geological strata are mute
+concerning it, it is possible that these horn-like processes, which always
+degenerate before they reach completion, may be not a reminiscence but a
+promise, a gradual elaboration of new organs, timid attempts which the
+centuries will harden to a complete armour, AND IF THIS WERE SO THE PRESENT
+WOULD TEACH US WHAT THE FUTURE IS TO BE." (9/16.)
+
+Here is a specific transformation, a veritable creation; fortuitous, blind,
+and silent; one of those innumerable attempts which nature is always
+making, for the moment a mere matter of hazard, until some propitious
+circumstance fixes it in future incarnations.
+
+Thus millions of indeterminate creatures are incessantly roughed out in the
+substance of that microcosm which is the initial cell; and it is here that
+Fabre sees the real secret of the law of evolution.
+
+He refutes the great principle of Leibnitz, which was so brilliantly
+adopted by Darwin, that changes occur by degrees, by "fine shades," by slow
+variations, as the result of successive adaptations, and that there is no
+jumping-off place in nature. On the contrary, life often passes suddenly
+from one form to another, by abrupt and capricious leaps, by irregular and
+disorderly steps, and it is in the egg that Fabre sees the first lineaments
+of these mysterious and spontaneous variations.
+
+Species are therefore born as a whole, each at the same time, AT THE SAME
+MOMENT, "bringing into being its new organism, with its individual
+properties and peculiarities, its indelible and innate faculties and
+tendencies, like "so many medals, each struck with a different die, which
+the gnawing tooth of time attacks only sooner or later to annihilate it."
+
+However, Fabre affirms the continuity of progress; he believes in a better
+and more merciful future, a more complete humanity, ruled by more
+harmonious or less brutal laws.
+
+With what profound intelligence and what generous enthusiasm he seeks to
+conjecture what this future might be, in his beautiful observations on the
+young of the Lycosa (9/17.), which can live for weeks and months in
+absolute abstinence, although we can perceive no reserve of nutriment!
+
+We know no other sources of animal activity save the energy derived from
+food. Vegetables draw the materials of their nourishment from the soil and
+the air, and the sunlight is only an intermediary which enables the plant
+to fix its carbon. The animal species in turn borrow the elements
+indispensable to their existence from the vegetable world, or restore their
+flesh and blood with the flesh and blood of other animals.
+
+Now the young Lycosae "are not inert on their mother's back; if they fall
+from the maternal chine they quickly pick themselves up and climb up one of
+her legs, and once back in place they have to preserve the equilibrium of
+the mass. In reality they know no such thing as complete repose. What then
+is the energetic aliment which enables the little Lycosae to struggle?
+Whence is the heat expended in action derived?"
+
+Fabre sees no other source than "the sun."
+
+"Every day, if the sky is clear, the Lycosa, loaded with her little ones,
+crawls to the edge of her well, and for long hours lies in the sun. There,
+on the maternal back, the young ones stretch themselves out, saturate
+themselves in the sunshine, charging themselves with motor reserves,
+steeping themselves in energy, directly converting into movement the
+calorific radiations coming from the sun, the centre of all life."
+
+The Scorpion also is able to live for months without nourishment, restoring
+directly, in the form of movement, "the effluvia emanating from the sun or
+from other ambient energies--heat, electricity, light--which are the soul
+of the world."
+
+Perhaps, among the innumerable worlds of space, there is somewhere,
+gravitating round a fixed star, a planet invisible to us where "the
+sunlight sates the hunger of the blind."
+
+The gentle philosophy of the ingenious dreamer soothes itself with the
+vision, entertained by great and noble minds, of a humanity "whose teeth
+will no longer attack sensible life, nor even the pulp of fruits"; "when
+creatures will devour one another no longer, will no longer feed upon the
+dead; when they will be nourished by the sunlight, without conflict,
+without war, without labour; freed from all care, and assured against all
+needs!"
+
+Thus, in the humblest creatures, he sees the most marvellous perspectives;
+the body of the lowest insect becomes suddenly a transcendent secret,
+lighting up the abyss of the human soul, or giving it a glimpse of the
+stars.
+
+And although his work is in contradiction to the theories of the
+evolutionists, it ends with the same moral conclusion, namely, that all
+creation moves slowly and without intermission on its gradual ascent
+towards progress.
+
+
+CHAPTER 10. THE ANIMAL MIND.
+
+The cunning anatomist has now successively laid bare all the springs of the
+animal intellect; he has shown how the various movements are mutually
+combined and engaged. But so far we have seen only one of the faces of the
+little mind of the animal; let us now consider the other aspect, the moral
+side, the region of feeling, the problem of which is confounded with the
+problem of instinct, and is doubtless fundamentally only another aspect of
+the same elemental power.
+
+After the conflict the insect manifests its delight; it seems sometimes to
+exult in its triumph; "beside the caterpillar which it has just stabbed
+with its sting, and which lies writhing on the ground," the Ammophila
+"stamps, gesticulates, beats her wings," capers about, sounding victory in
+an intoxication of delight.
+
+The sense of property exists in a high degree among the Mason-bees; with
+them right comes before might, and "the intruder is always finally
+dislodged." (10/1.)
+
+But can we find in the insect anything analogous to what we term devotion,
+attachment, affectionate feeling? There are facts which lead us to believe
+we may.
+
+Let us go once more into Fabre's garden and admire the Thomisus: absorbed
+in her maternal function, the little spider lying flat on her nest can
+strive no longer and is wasting away, but persists in living, mere ruin
+that she is, in order to open the door to her family with one last bite.
+Feeling under the silken roof her offspring stamping with impatience, but
+knowing that they have not strength to liberate themselves, she perforates
+the capsule, making a sort of practicable skylight. This duty accomplished,
+she quietly surrenders to death, still grappled to her nest.
+
+The Psyche, dominated by a kind of unconscious necessity, protects her
+nursery by means of her body, anchors herself upon the threshold, and
+perishes there, devoted to her family even in death.
+
+However, Fabre will show us with infallible logic that all these instances
+of foresight and maternal tenderness have, as a rule, no other motive than
+pleasure and the blind impulse which urges the insect to follow only the
+fatal path of its instincts.
+
+In many species the material fact of maternity is reduced to its simplest
+expression.
+
+The Pieris limits herself to depositing her eggs on the leaves of the
+cabbage, "on which the young must themselves find food and shelter."
+
+"From the height of the topmost clusters of the centaury the Clythris
+negligently lets her eggs fall to the ground, one by one, here or there at
+hazard; without the least care as to their installation.
+
+"The eggs of the Locustidae are implanted in the earth like seeds and
+germinate like grain."
+
+But stop before the Lycosa, that magnificent type of maternal love which
+Fabre has already depicted. "She broods over her eggs with anxious
+affection. With the hinder claws resting on the margin of the well she
+holds herself supported above the opening of the white sac, which is
+swollen with eggs. For several long weeks she exposes it to the sun during
+half the day. Gently she turns it about in order to present every side to
+the vivifying light. The bird, in order to hatch her eggs, covers them with
+the down of her breast, and presses them against that living calorifer, her
+heart. The Lycosa turns hers about beneath the fires of heaven; she gives
+them the sun for incubator." (10.2.) Could abnegation be more perfect? What
+greater proof could there be of renunciation and self-oblivion?
+
+But appearances are vain. Substitute for the beloved sac some other object,
+and the spider "will turn about, with the same love, as though it were her
+sac of eggs, a piece of cork, a pincushion, or a ball of paper," just as
+the hen, another victim of this sublime deception, will give all her heart
+to hatching the china nest-eggs which have been placed beneath her, and for
+weeks will forget to feed.
+
+The young brood hatches, and the spider goes a-hunting, carrying her little
+ones on her back; she protects them in case of danger, but is incapable of
+recognizing them or of distinguishing them from the young of others. The
+Copris and the Scorpion are no less blind, "and their maternal tenderness
+barely exceeds that of the plant, which, a stranger to any sense of
+affection or morality, none the less exercises the most exquisite care in
+respect of its seeds."
+
+Moreover, the impulse to work is only a kind of unconscious pleasure. When
+the Pelopaeus "has stored her lair with game," when the Cerceris has sealed
+the crypt to which she has confided the future of her race, neither one nor
+the other can foresee "the future offspring which their faceted eyes will
+never behold, and the very object of their labours is to them occult."
+
+With them, as with all, life can only be a perpetual illusion.
+
+Yet the marvellous edifice of the "Souvenirs entomologiques" is consummated
+by the astonishing history of the Minotaur, whose habits surpass in ideal
+beauty all that could be imagined.
+
+At the bottom of a burrow, in a deeply sunken vault, two dung-beetles are
+at work, the Minotaurs, who, once united, recognize one another, and can
+find one another again if separated, but do not voluntarily separate,
+realizing "the moral beauty of the double life" and "the touching concept
+of the family, the sacred group par excellence." The male buries himself
+with his companion, remains faithful to her, comes to her assistance, and
+"stores up treasure for the future. Never discouraged by the heavy labour
+of climbing, leaving to the mother only the more moderate labour, keeping
+the severest for himself, the heavy task of transport in a narrow tunnel,
+very deep and almost vertical, he goes foraging, forgetful of himself,
+heedless of the intoxicating delights of spring, though it would be so good
+to see something of the country, to feast with his brothers, and to pester
+the neighbours; but no! he collects the food which is to nourish his
+children, and then, when all is ready for the new-comers, when their living
+is assured, having spent himself without counting the cost, exhausted by
+his efforts, and feeling himself failing, he leaves his home and goes away
+to die, that he may not pollute the dwelling with a corpse."
+
+The mother, on her side, allows nothing to divert her from her household,
+and only returns to the surface when accompanied by her young, who disperse
+at will. Then, having nothing more to do, the devoted creature perishes in
+turn. (10/3.)
+
+Compared with the Scarabaeus, which contents itself with idle wandering, or
+even with the meritorious Sisyphus, does it not seem that the Minotaur
+moves on an infinitely higher plane?
+
+What nobler could be found among ourselves? What father ever better
+comprehended his duties and obligations toward his family? What morality
+could be more irreproachable; what fairer example could be meditated?
+
+"Is not life everywhere the same, in the body of the dung-beetle as in that
+of man? If we examine it in the insect, do we not examine it in ourselves?"
+
+Whence does the Minotaur derive these particular graces? How has it risen
+to so high a level on the wings of pure instinct? How could we explain the
+rarity of so sublime an example, did we not know, to satiety, that "nature
+everywhere is but an enigmatic poem, as who should say a veiled and misty
+picture, shining with an infinite variety of deceptive lights in order to
+evoke our conjectures"? (10/4.)
+
+Nevertheless, it is a fact that the majority have no other rule of conduct
+than to follow the trend of their instincts, and to obey "their unbridled
+desires." No one better than Fabre has expounded the blind operation of
+these little natural forces, the brutality of their manners, their
+cannibalism, and what we might call their amorality, were it possible to
+employ our human formulae outside our own human world.
+
+With the gardener-beetles, if one is crippled, none of the same race halts
+or lingers; none attempts to come to his aid. Sometimes the passers-by
+hasten to the invalid to devour him."
+
+In the republic of the wasps "the grubs recognized as incurable are
+pitilessly torn from their place and dragged out of the nest. Woe to the
+sick! they are helpless and at once expelled."
+
+When the winter comes all the larvae are massacred, and the whole vespine
+city ends in a horrible tragedy.
+
+But life is a whole, and all conduct is good whose actions realize an
+object and are adapted to an end. If there is a "spirit" of the hive, the
+insect also has its morality and the wasp's nest its "law," and the conduct
+of its inmates, horrible though it may seem to Fabre, is doubtless only a
+submission to certain exigencies of that universal law which makes nature a
+"savage foster-mother who knows nothing of pity."
+
+These cruelties particularly show us that one of the functions of the
+insect in nature is to preside over the disappearance and also the ultimate
+metamorphoses of the least "remnants of life."
+
+Each has its providential hygienic function.
+
+The Necrophori, "the first of the tiny scavengers of the fields," bury
+corpses in order to establish their progeny in them; in the space of a few
+hours an enormous body, a mole, a water-rat, or an adder, will completely
+disappear, buried under the earth.
+
+The Onthophagi purify the soil, "dividing all filth into tiny crumbs,
+ridding the earth of its defilements."
+
+A very small beetle, the Trox, has the imprescriptible mission of purging
+the earth of the rabbits' fur rejected by the fox. (10/5.)
+
+Here structure explains the function.
+
+The intestine of the grub of the rose-beetle "is a veritable triturating
+mill, which transforms vegetable matter into mould; in a month it will
+digest a volume of matter equal to several thousand times the initial
+volume of the grub."
+
+The intestine of the Scarabaei is prolonged to a prodigious length in order
+to "drain the excrement to the last atom in its manifold circuits. The
+sheep has finely divided the vegetable matter; the grub, that incomparable
+triturator, reduces it to the finest possible consistency; not a morsel is
+left in which the magnifying glass can reveal a fibre."
+
+To fulfil its hygienic mission the insect arrives in due season, and
+multiplies its legions; "there are twenty thousand eggs in the flanks of
+the house fly; immediately they are hatched these twenty thousand maggots
+set to work, so that Linnaeus has said that three flies would suffice to
+devour the body of a horse or a lion."
+
+Feeding only upon wheat, a single weevil, the Calendar beetle, produces ten
+thousand eggs, whence issue as many larvae, each of them devouring its
+grain.
+
+In all species the number of births is at first exaggerated, for all, the
+obscure, the nameless, the most destructive, our pests as well as our most
+precious helpers, have their utility and their part to play in the general
+scheme of life, a raison d'être in the eternal renewal of things, which is
+without reference to the vexatious or beneficent quality of their behaviour
+to us.
+
+Each has its rank assigned, each has its task, to one the flower, to
+another the roots, to a third the leaves; the vine has its caterpillars,
+its beetles, its butterflies; the clover, its moths and mites. (10/6.)
+
+Man sees himself forced to submit to them, and spends himself in vain
+efforts to carry on an often useless campaign. Nothing seems to affect
+them, neither drought, nor rain, nor even the severest cold; and the eggs
+and larvae, organizations apparently delicate in the extreme, are often
+more tenacious of life than the adults. Fabre has proved this: let the
+temperature suddenly fall twenty degrees: the eggs of Geotrupes and the
+larvae of the cockchafer or the rose-beetle endure such vicissitudes of
+temperature with impunity; contracted and stiffened into little masses of
+ice, but not destroyed, they revive in spring no less than the eel fry, the
+rotifers, or the tardigrades. One can scarcely believe that life still
+persists in a state of suspense only in these little frozen creatures,
+whose organization is already so complicated.
+
+Then, of a sudden, the ravagers disappear; more often than not none knows
+how or why; deliverance is at hand. What indeed would become of the world
+were nothing to moderate such fecundity?
+
+Again, each species has its trials which appear in time to moderate its
+surplusage, and Fabre expounds for us, with a stern philosophy, the
+terrible devices by which this repression is effected.
+
+Each has its appointed enemy, which lives upon it or its offspring, and
+which in turn becomes the prey of some smaller creature. The gentle itself,
+"the king of the dead," has its parasites. While it swims in the
+deliquescence of putrefying flesh a minute Chalcidian perforates its skin
+with an imperceptible wound, and introduces its terrible eggs, whence in
+the future will issue larvae which to-morrow will devour the devourers of
+to-day.
+
+None exists save to the detriment of others. Everywhere, even in the
+smallest, we find "an atrocious activity, a cunning brigandage," a savage
+extermination, which dominates a vast unconscious world of which the final
+result is the restoration of equilibrium. (10/7.) It is only on these
+antagonisms, on the enemies of our enemies, that we can found any hope of
+seeing this or that pest disappear. A small Hymenopteron, almost invisible,
+the Microgaster glomeratus, is entrusted with the destruction of the
+cabbage caterpillar; the cochineal wages war to the death upon the green-
+fly; the Ammophila is the predestined murderer of the harvest Noctuela,
+whose misdeeds in a beetroot country often amount to a disaster. The
+Odynerus has for its instinctive mission to arrest the excessive
+multiplication of a lucerne weevil, no less than twenty-four of whose grubs
+are necessary to rear the offspring of the brigand, and nearly sixty
+gadflies are sacrificed to the growth of a single Bembex.
+
+Everywhere craft is organized to triumph over force. Around each nest the
+parasites lie in wait, "atrocious assassins of the child in the cradle,
+watching at the doors for the favourable occasion to establish their family
+at the expense of others. The enemy penetrates the most inaccessible
+fortress; each has its tactics of war, devised with a terrible art. Of the
+nest and the cocoon of the victim the intruder makes its own nest, its own
+cocoon, and in the following year, instead of the master of the house, he
+will emerge from underground as the usurping bandit, the devourer of the
+inhabitant."
+
+While the cicada is absorbed in laying her eggs an insignificant fly
+labours to destroy them. How express the calm audacity of this pigmy,
+following closely after the colossus, step by step; several at once almost
+under the talons of the giant, which could crush them merely by treading on
+them? But the cicada respects them, or they would long ago have
+disappeared." (10/8.)
+
+Fabre thus agrees with Pasteur, who in the world of the infinitely little
+shows us the same antagonisms, the same vital competition, the same eternal
+movement of flux and reflux, the same whirlpool of life, which is
+extinguished only to reappear: tending always towards an equilibrium which
+is incessantly destroyed. And it is thanks to this balancing that the
+integral of life remains everywhere and always almost identical with
+itself.
+
+
+CHAPTER 11. HARMONIES AND DISCORDS.
+
+Such indeed is the economy of nature that secret relations and astonishing
+concordances exist throughout the whole vast weft of things. There are no
+loose ends; everything is consequent and ordered. Hidden harmonies meet and
+mingle.
+
+Among the terebinth lice, "when the population is mature, the gall is ripe
+also, so fully do the calendars of the shrub and the animal coincide"; and
+the mortal enemy of the Halictus, the sinister midge of the springtime, is
+hatched at the very moment when the bee begins to wander in search of a
+location for its burrows.
+
+The fantastic history of the larvae of the Anthrax furnishes us with one of
+the most suggestive examples of these strange coincidences. (10/9.)
+
+The Anthrax is a black fly, which sows its eggs on the surface of the nests
+of the Mason-bee, whose larvae are at the moment reposing in their silken
+cocoons.
+
+"The grub of the Anthrax emerges and comes to life under the touch of the
+sunlight. Its cradle is the rugged surface of the cell; it is welcomed into
+the world by a literally stony harshness...Obstinately it probes the chinks
+and pores of the nest; glides over it, crawls forward, returns, and
+recommences. The radicle of the germinating seed is not more persevering,
+not more determined to descend into the cool damp earth. What inspiration
+impels it? What compass guides it? What does the root know of the fertility
+of the soil?...The nurseling, the seed of the Anthrax, is barely visible,
+almost escaping the gaze of the magnifying glass; a mere atom compared to
+the monstrous foster-mother which it will drain to the very skin. Its mouth
+is a sucker, with neither fangs nor jaws, incapable of producing the
+smallest wound; it sucks in place of eating, and its attack is a kiss." It
+practises, in short, a most astonishing art, "another variation of the
+marvellous art of feeding on the victim without killing it until the end of
+the meal, in order always to have a store of fresh meat. During the
+fourteen days through which the nourishment of the Anthrax continues, the
+aspect of the larva remains that of living flesh; until all its substance
+has been literally transferred, by a kind of transpiration, to the body of
+the nurseling, and the victim, slowly exhausted, drained to the last drop,
+while retaining to the end just enough life to prove refractory to
+decomposition, is reduced to the mere skin, which, being insufflated, puffs
+itself out and resumes the precise form of the larva, there being nowhere a
+point of escape for the compressed air."
+
+Now the grub of the Anthrax "appears precisely at the exact moment when the
+larva of the Chalicodoma is attacked by that lethargy which precedes
+metamorphosis, and which renders it insensible, and during which the
+substance of the grub about to be transfigured into a bee commences to
+break down and resolve itself into a liquid pulp, for the processes of life
+always liquefy the grub before achieving the perfect insect." (11/2.)
+
+Here again the time-tables coincide.
+
+But it is perhaps in the celebrated Odyssey of the grub of the Sitaris that
+Fabre most urgently claims our admiration for the marvellous and
+incomprehensible wisdom of the Unconscious!
+
+Let us recapitulate the unheard-of series of events, the inextricable
+complication of circumstances, which are required to condition the lowly
+life of a Sitaris.
+
+In the first place, this microscopic creature must be provided with talons,
+or how could it adhere to the fleece of the Anthophora, on which it must
+live as parasite for a certain length of time?
+
+Then again, it must transfer itself from the male to the female bee in the
+course of its travels abroad, or its destiny would be cut short.
+
+Again, it must not miss the opportunity of embarking itself upon the egg
+just at the propitious moment.
+
+Then the volume of this egg must be so calculated as to represent an
+allowance of food exactly proportioned to the duration of the first phase
+of its metamorphosis. Moreover, the quantity of honey accumulated by the
+bee must suffice for the whole of the remaining cycle of its larval
+existence.
+
+Let a single link of the chain be broken, and the entire species of the
+Sitaris is no longer possible.
+
+If every species has its law; if the Geotrupes remain faithful to filth,
+although experience shows that they can accommodate themselves equally well
+to the putrefaction of decayed leaves; if the predatory species--the
+Cerceris, the Sphex, the Ammophila--resort only to one species of quarry to
+nourish their larvae, although these same larvae accept all indifferently,
+it is on account of those superior economic laws and secret alliances the
+profound reasons for which as a rule escape us or are beyond the scope of
+our theories.
+
+For all things are produced and interlocked by the eternal necessity; link
+engages in link, and life is only a plexus of solitary forces allied among
+themselves by their very nature, the condition of which is harmony. And the
+whole system of living creatures appears to us, through the work of the
+great naturalist, as an immense organism, a sort of vast physiological
+apparatus, of which all the parts are mutually interdependent, and as
+narrowly controlled as all the cells of the human body.
+
+Fabre goes on to present us with other facts, which at a first glance
+appear highly immoral; I am referring to certain phases of sexual love
+among the lower animals, and his ghoulish revelations concerning the
+horrible bridals of the Arachnoids, the Millepoda, and the Locustidae.
+
+The Decticus surrenders only to a single exploit of love; a victim of its
+"strange genesics"; utterly exhausted by the first embrace, empty, drained,
+extenuated, motionless in all its members, utterly worn out, it quickly
+succumbs, a mere broken simulacrum, like the miserable lover of a monstrous
+succubus who "loves him enough to devour him." (11/3.)
+
+The female scorpion devours the male; "all is gone but the tail!"
+
+The female Spider delights in the flesh of her lover.
+
+The cricket also devours a small portion of her "debonair" admirer.
+
+The Ephippigera "excavates the stomach of her companion and eats him."
+
+But the horror of these nuptial tragedies is surpassed by the insatiable
+lust, the monstrous conjunction, the bestial delights of the Mantis, that
+"ferocious spectre, never wearied of embraces, munching the brains of its
+spouse at the very moment of surrendering her flanks to him." (11/4.)
+
+Whence these strange discords, these frightful appetites?
+
+Fabre refers us to the remotest ages, to the depths of the geological
+night, and does not hesitate to regard these cruelties as "remnants of
+atavism," the lingering furies of an ancient strain, and he ventures a
+profound and plausible explanation.
+
+The Locusts, the Crickets, and the Scolopendrae are the last
+representatives of a very ancient world, of an extinct fauna, of an early
+creation, whose perverse and unbridled instincts were given free vent, when
+creation was as yet but dimly outlined, "still making the earliest essays
+of its organizing forces"; when the primitive Orthoptera, "the obscure
+forebears of those of to-day, were "sowing the wild oats of a frantic rut,
+"in the colossal forests of the secondary period; by the borders of the
+vast lakes, full of crocodiles, and antediluvian marshes, which in Provence
+were shaded by palms, and strange ferns, and giant Lycopodia, never as yet
+enlivened by the song of a bird.
+
+These monstrosities, in which life was making its essays, were subject to
+singular physical necessities. The female reigned alone; the male did not
+as yet exist, or was tolerated only for the sake of his indispensable
+assistance. But he served also another and less obvious end; his substance,
+or at least some portion of his substance, was an almost necessary
+ingredient in the act of generation, something in the nature of a necessary
+excitant of the ovaries, "a horrible titbit," which completed and
+consummated the great task of fecundation. Such, in Fabre's eyes, was the
+imperious physiological reason of these rude laws. This is why the love of
+the males is almost equivalent to their suicide; the Gardener-beetle,
+attacked by the female, attempts to flee, but does not defend himself; "it
+is as though an invincible repugnance prevents him from repulsing or from
+eating the eater." In the same way the male scorpion "allows himself to be
+devoured by his companion without ever attempting to employ his sting," and
+the lover of the Mantis "allows himself to be nibbled to pieces without any
+revolt on his part."
+
+A strange morality, but not more strange than the organic peculiarities
+which are its foundation; a strange world, but perhaps some distant sun may
+light others like it.
+
+These terrible creatures are a source of dismay to Fabre. If all things
+proceed from an underlying Reason, if the divine harmony of things
+testifies everywhere to a sovereign Logic, how shall the proofs of its
+excellence and its sovereign wisdom be found in such things as these?
+
+Far from attributing to the order of the universe a supposed perfection,
+far from considering nature as the most immediate expression of the Good
+and the Beautiful, in the words of Tolstoy (11/5.), he sees in it only a
+rough sketch which a hidden God, hidden, but close at hand, and living
+eternally present in the heart of His creatures, is seeking to test and to
+shape.
+
+Living always with his eyes upon some secret of the marvels of God, whom he
+sees in every bush, in every tree, "although He is veiled from our
+imperfect senses" (11/6.), the vilest insect reveals to him, in the least
+of its actions, a fragment of this universal Intelligence.
+
+What marvels indeed when seen from above! But consider the Reverse--what
+antinomies, what flagrant contradictions! What poor and sordid means! And
+Fabre is astonished, in spite of all his candid faith, that the fatality of
+the belly should have entered into the Divine plan, and the necessity of
+all those atrocious acts in which the Unconscious delights. Could not God
+ensure the preservation of life by less violent means? Why these
+subterranean dramas, these slow assassinations? Why has Evil, THE POISON OF
+THE GOOD (11/7.), crept in everywhere, even to the origin of life, like an
+eternal Parasite?
+
+Within this fatal circle, in which the devourer and the devoured, the
+exploiter and the exploited, lead an eternal dance, can we not perceive a
+ray of light?
+
+For what is it that we see?
+
+The victims are not merely the predestined victims of their persecutors.
+They seek neither to struggle nor to escape nor to evade the inevitable;
+one might say that by a kind of renunciation they offer themselves up whole
+as a sacrifice!
+
+What irresistible destiny impels the bee to meet half-way the Philanthus,
+its terrible enemy! The Tarantula, which could so easily withstand the
+Pompilus, when the latter rashly carries war into its lair, does not
+disturb itself, and never dreams of using its poisoned fangs. Not less
+absolute is the submission of the grasshopper before the Mantis, which
+itself has its tyrant, the Tachytes.
+
+Similarly those which have reason to fear for their offspring, if not for
+themselves, do nothing to evade the enemy which watches for them; the
+Megachile, although it could easily destroy it, is indifferent to the
+presence of a miserable midge, "the bandit who is always there, meditating
+its crime"; the Bembex, confronted with the Tachinarius, cannot control its
+terror, but nevertheless resigns itself, while squeaking with fright.
+
+If each creature is what it is only because it is a necessary part of the
+plan of the supreme Artisan who has constructed the universe, why have some
+the right of life and death and others the terrible duty of immolation?
+
+Do not both obey, not the gloomy law of carnage, but a kind of sovereign
+and exquisite sacrifice, some sort of unconscious idea of submission to a
+superior and collective interest?
+
+This hypothesis, which was one day suggested to Fabre by a friend of great
+intellectual culture (11/8.), charmed and interested him keenly. I noticed
+that he was more than usually attentive, and he seemed to me to be suddenly
+reassured and appeased. For him it was as though a faint ray of light had
+suddenly fallen among these impenetrable and distressing problems.
+
+It seemed to him that by setting before our eyes the spectacle of so many
+woes, universally distributed, and doubtless necessary, woes which do not
+spare even the humblest of creatures, the Sovereign Intelligence intends to
+exhort us to examine ourselves truly and to dispose us to greater love and
+pity and resignation.
+
+All his work is highly and essentially religious; and while he has given us
+a taste for nature, he has not also endeavoured to give us, according to
+the expression of Bossuet "the taste for God," or at least a sense of the
+divine? In opposing the doctrine of evolution, which reduces the animal
+world to the mere virtualities of the cell; in revealing to us all these
+marvels which seem destined always to escape human comprehension; finally,
+by referring us more necessarily than ever to the unfathomable problem of
+our origins, Fabre has reopened the door of mystery, the door of the divine
+Unknown, in which the religion of men must always renew itself. We should
+belittle his thought, we should dwarf the man himself, were we to seek to
+confine to any particular thesis his spiritualistic conception of the
+universe.
+
+Fabre recognizes and adores in nature only the great eternal Power, whose
+imprint is everywhere revealed by the phenomena of matter.
+
+For this reason he has all his life remained free from all superstition and
+has been completely indifferent to dogmas and miracles, which to his mind
+imply not only a profound ignorance of science, but also a gross and
+complete miscomprehension of the divine Intelligence. He kneels upon the
+ground or among the grasses only the more closely to adore that force, the
+source of all order, the intuitive knowledge of which, innate in all
+creatures, even in the tiny immovable minds of animals, is merely a
+magnificent and gratuitous gift. The office in which he eagerly
+communicates is that glorious and formidable Mass in which the ragged
+sower, "noble in his tatters, a pontiff in shabby small-clothes, solemn as
+a God, blesses the soil, more majestic than the bishop in his glory at
+Easter-tide." (11/9.) It is there that he finds his "Ideal," in the incense
+of the perfumes "which are softly exhaled from the shapely flowers, from
+their censers of gold," in the heart of all creatures, "chaffinch and
+siskin, skylark and goldfinch, tiny choristers" piping and trilling,
+"elaborating their motets" to the glory of Him who gave them voice and
+wings on the fifth day of Genesis. He fraternizes with all, with his dogs
+and his cats, his tame tortoise, and even the "slimy and swollen frog"; the
+"Philosopher" of the Harmas, whose murky eyes he loves to interrogate as he
+paces his garden "by the light of the stars"; persuaded that all are
+accomplishing a useful work, and that all creatures, from the humblest
+insect which has only nibbled a leaf, or displaced a few grains of sand, to
+man himself, are anointed with the same chrism of immortality.
+
+And as he has always set the pleasures of study before all others, he can
+imagine no greater recompense after death than to obtain from heaven
+permission still to continue in their midst, during eternity, his life of
+labour and effort.
+
+
+CHAPTER 12. THE INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.
+
+We have noted the essential features of his precise and unfailing vision
+and the value of the documents which record the work of Fabre, but the
+writer merits no less attention than the observer and the philosopher.
+
+In the domain of things positive, it is not always sufficient to gather the
+facts, to record them, and to codify in bare formulae the results of
+inquiry. Doubtless every essential discovery is able to stand by itself; in
+what would an inventor profit, for example, by raising himself to the level
+of the artist? "For the theorem lucidity suffices; truth issues naked from
+the bottom of a well."
+
+But the manner of speaking, describing, and depicting is none the less an
+integral part of the truth when it is a matter of expounding and
+transmitting the latter. To express it feebly is often to compromise it, to
+diminish it; and even to betray it. There are terms which say better than
+others what has to be said. "Words have their physiognomy; if there are
+lifeless words, there are also picturesque and richly-coloured words,
+comparable to the brush strokes which scatter flecks of light on the grey
+background of the picture." There are particular terms of expression,
+felicities which present things in a better light, and the writer must
+search in his memory, his imagination, and his heart, for the fitting
+accent; for the flexibility of language and the wealth of words which are
+needful if he would fully succeed in the portrayal of living creatures; if
+he would tender the living truth, reproduce in all its light and shade the
+spectacle of the world, arouse the imagination, and faithfully interpret
+the mysterious spirit which impregnates matter and is reflected in thought.
+
+The artist then comes forward to co-ordinate all these scattered fragments,
+to assemble them, to breathe vitality into them, to restore these inert
+truths to life.
+
+But what a strange manner of working was Fabre's; what a curious method of
+composition! However full of ideas his mind might be, he was incapable of
+expressing them if he remained in one place and assumed the ordinary
+preliminary attitude of a man preparing to write. Seated and motionless,
+his limbs at rest, pen in hand, with a blank page before him, it seemed to
+him that all his faculties became of a sudden paralysed. He must first move
+about; activity helped him to pursue his ideas; it was in action that he
+recovered his ardour and uncovered the sources of inspiration. Just as he
+never observed without enthusiasm, so he found it impossible to write
+without exaltation, and it was precisely because he so ardently loved the
+truth that he felt himself compelled to show it in all its beauty.
+
+Moving like a circus-horse about the great table of his laboratory, he
+would begin to tramp indefatigably round and round, so that his steps have
+worn in the tiles of the floor an ineffaceable record of the concentric
+track in which they moved incessantly for thirty years.
+
+His mind would grow clear and active as he walked, smoking his pipe and
+"using his marrow-bones." (12/1.) He was already at work; he was
+"hammering" his future chapters in his brain; for the idea would be all the
+more precise as the form was more finished and more irreproachable, more
+closely identified with the thought; he would wait until the word quivered,
+palpitated, and lived; until the transcription was no longer an illusion, a
+phantom, a vision devoid of reality, but a faithful echo, a sincere
+translation, a finished interpretation, reflecting entire the fundamental
+essence of the thing; in a word, a work of art, a parallel to nature.
+
+Then only would he sit before the little walnut-wood table "spotted with
+ink and scarred with knife-cuts, just big enough to hold the inkstand, a
+halfpenny bottle, and his open notebook": that same little table at which,
+in other days, by force of meditation, he achieved his first degrees.
+
+Then he would begin to write, "his pen dipped not in ink only" but in his
+heart's blood (12/2.); first of all in ordinary ruled notebooks bound in
+black cloth, in which he noted, day by day, hour by hour, the observations
+of every moment, the results of his experiments, together with his thoughts
+and reflections. Little by little those documents would come together which
+elucidated and completed one another, and at last the book was written.
+These notebooks, these copious records, are remarkable for the regularity
+of the writing and the often impeccable finish of the first draught.
+Although here and there the same data are transcribed several times in
+succession, and each time struck through with a vigorous stroke of the pen,
+there are whole pages, and many pages together, without a single erasure.
+The handwriting, excessively small--one might think it had been traced by
+the feet of a fly--becomes in later years so minute that one almost needs a
+magnifying glass to decipher it.
+
+These notebooks are not the final manuscript. The entomologist would write
+a new and more perfect copy on loose sheets of paper, making one draught
+after another, patiently fashioning his style and polishing his work,
+although many passages were included without revision as they were written
+in the first instance.
+
+The greatest magician of modern letters, versed in all the artifices of the
+French language, speaking one day of Fabre and his writings, made in my
+hearing the assertion that he was not, properly speaking, an artist. He
+might well be a great naturalist, a veteran of science, an observer of
+genius, but he was by no means and would never be a writer according to the
+canons of the craft.
+
+But how many others, like him, in their time regarded as "pitiable in
+respect of their language," charm us to-day, simply because they were
+gifted with imagination and the power of giving life to their work! (12/3.)
+
+To tell the truth, Fabre is absolutely careless of all literary procedure,
+and solely preoccupied with bringing his style into harmony with his
+thoughts; he is not in the least a manufacturer of literary phrases. There
+is no trace of artistic writing in his books, and it is only his manner of
+feeling and of expressing himself that makes him so dear to us.
+
+What touches us in him is the accent, the simplicity, the measure, the good
+sense, and the perfect equilibrium of each of these pages: simple, often
+commonplace, even incorrect or trivial, but so alive, so human, that the
+blood seems to flow in them. It is the lover in Fabre that draws us to him;
+nothing quite like his work has been seen since the days of Jean de La
+Fontaine.
+
+He has liberated science; he laughs at the specialists who take refuge
+behind their "barbarian terminologies," at the "jargon" of those "who see
+the world only through the wrong end of the glass"; at the exaggerated
+importance which they attribute to insignificant details, the narrowness of
+classifications, and the chaos of systems; all that incoherent, remote, and
+inaccessible science, which he, on the contrary, strives to render pleasant
+and attractive.
+
+This is why the great scientist has endeavoured to speak like other people,
+preferring, to the harsh consonants of technical phrases which sound "like
+insults" or have the air of "a magical invocation, which make certain
+scientific works read like so much gibberish," the "naive and picturesque
+appellation, the familiar, trivial name, the popular, living term which
+directly interprets the exact signification of the habits of an insect, or
+informs us fully of its dominant characteristic, or which, at least, leaves
+nothing to conjecture."
+
+He considers it useless and even inconvenient to abandon many charming
+expressions, appropriate and significant as they are, which may be borrowed
+from the good old French tongue; and in this he resembles the immortal de
+Jussieu, who in his botanical classifications was careful not to discard
+the old popular denominations which Theophrastus, Virgil, and Linnaeus had
+thought fit to bestow upon plant and tree.
+
+It is for the same reasons that he loves the Provençal tongue; that
+beautiful idiom, that superb language, rich in music, in sonorous words, so
+suggestive and so full of colour, many of whose terms, saying precisely
+what they intend to say, have no equivalent in French. He has learned the
+language, and reads it: in particular Roumanille, whose easy, familiar
+style pleases him better than the grandiloquence of Mistral, although he
+delights also in Calendal, whose lyrical powers fill him with enthusiasm.
+>From this ancient tongue, which was early as familiar to him as the French,
+he borrowed certain mannerisms, certain tricks of style, certain
+neologisms, and also, to some extent, his simplicity of manner and the
+cadence of his prose.
+
+It was not without difficulty that he attained this mastery. Measure the
+gulf between his first volumes and his last; in the first the style is
+slightly nerveless and indefinite: it was only as he gradually advanced in
+his career that he acquired what may be called his final manner, or
+achieved, in his narratives, a perfect literary style. The most
+substantially constructed, the most happily expressed of his pages were
+written principally in his extreme old age. Not only is there no sign of
+failing in these, but in his latest "Souvenirs" the perfection of form is
+perhaps even more remarkable than the wealth of matter.
+
+How vitally his scrupulous records impress the mind's eye; how firmly they
+establish themselves in the memory!
+
+Even if one has never seen the Pelopaeus, one readily conceives an
+impression of "her wasp-like costume, and curving abdomen, suspended at the
+end of a long thread." What exactitude in this snapshot, taken at the
+moment when the insect is occupied in scooping out of the mire the lump of
+mud intended for the construction of her nest: "like a skilled housekeeper,
+with her clothing carefully tucked up that it may not be soiled, the wings
+vibrating, the limbs rigidly straightened, the black abdomen well raised on
+the end of its yellow stalk, she rakes the mud with the points of her
+mandibles, skimming the shining surface." (12/4.)
+
+He draws, in passing, this charming sketch of the gadfly, the pest of
+horses, which nourishes itself with their blood:
+
+"Gadflies of several species used to take refuge under the silken dome of
+my umbrella, and there they would quietly rest, one here, one there, on the
+tightly stretched fabric; I rarely lacked their company when the heat was
+overpowering. To while away the hours of waiting, I used to love to watch
+their great golden eyes, which would shine like carbuncles on the vaulted
+ceiling of my shelter; I used to love to watch them slowly change their
+stations, when the excessive heat of some point of the ceiling would force
+them to move a little." (12/5.)
+
+We follow all the manoeuvres of the Balaninus, the acorn-weevil, "burying
+her drill" which "operates by means of little bites." The narrator calls
+our attention to the slightest episodes, even to those accidents which
+sometimes surprise the worker in the course of her labours; when, with the
+rostrum buried deep in the acorn, her feet suddenly lose their hold. Then
+the unhappy creature, unable to free herself, finds herself suspended in
+the air, at right angles to her proboscis, far from any foothold or point
+of vantage, at the extremity of her disproportionately long pike, that
+"fatal stake." (12/6.)
+
+As for the poplar-weevil, we can almost see it moving "in the subtlest
+equilibrium, clinging with its hooked talons to the slippery surface of the
+leaf"; we watch all the details of its methods and the progress of its
+labours. We see the flexed leaf assume the vertical under the awl-stroke
+which the insect applies to the pedicle, "when, partially deprived of sap,
+the leaf becomes more flexible, more malleable; it is in a sense partly
+paralysed, only half alive." Then we follow the rolling process; "the
+imperturbable deliberation of the worker as it rolls its cigar, which
+finally hangs perpendicularly at the end of the bent and wounded stem."
+(12/7.)
+
+Fabre, like a true artist, finds all sorts of expressions to describe the
+tiny, fragile eggs of his insects; little shining pearls, delicious coffers
+of nickel or amber, miniature pots of translucid alabaster, "which we might
+think were stolen from the cupboard of a fairy."
+
+He opens the enchanted alcoves wherein the puny grubs lie slumbering, "fat,
+rounded puppets"; the tender larvae which "gape and swing their heads to
+and fro" when the mother returns to the nest with her toothsome mouthful or
+her crop swollen with honey.
+
+What compassion, what tenderness, what sensitiveness in the affecting
+picture of the mother Halictus, abandoned, deprived of her offspring,
+bewildered and lost, when the terrible spring fly has destroyed her house:
+bald, emaciated, shabby, careworn, already dogged by the small grey lizard!
+(12/8.)
+
+The tragedy of the wasps' nest at the approach of the first chills of
+winter is the final fragment of an epic. At first there is a sort of
+uneasiness, "a species of indifference and anxiety which broods over the
+city"; already it has a presentiment of coming misfortune, of an
+approaching catastrophe. Presently a wild excitement ensues; the foster-
+mothers, "frightened, fierce, and restless," as though suddenly attacked by
+an incomprehensible insanity, conceive an aversion for the young; "the
+neuters extirpate the larvae and drag them out of the nest," and the drama
+of destruction draws to a close with "the final catastrophe; the infirm and
+the dying are dismembered, eviscerated, dissected in a heap in the
+catacombs by maggots, woodlice, and centipedes." Finally the moth comes
+upon the scene, its larvae "attacking the dwelling itself; gnawing and
+destroying the joists and rafters, until all is reduced to a few pinches of
+dust and shreds of grey paper." (12/9.)
+
+What picturesque expressions he employs to depict, by means of some
+significant feature, the striking peculiarities of the insect physiognomy!
+
+"The gipsy who night and day for seven months goes to and fro with her
+brats upon her back" is the Lycosa, the Tarantula with the black stomach,
+the great spider of the wastes.
+
+The larva of the great Capricornis, which gnaws the interior of old oak-
+trees, "leaving behind it, in the form of dry-rot, the refuse of its
+digestive processes," is "a scrap of intestine which eats its way as it
+goes."
+
+In "that hideous lout" the Scorpion he shows us a rough epitome of the
+shapeless head, the truncated face of the spider.
+
+The Tachinae, those "brazen diptera" which swarm on the sunny sand on the
+watch for Bembex or Philanthus, in order to establish their offspring at
+its expense, "are bandits clad in fustian, the head wrapped in a red
+handkerchief, awaiting the hour of attack!"
+
+The Languedocian Sphex, sprawling flat upon the vine leaves, grows dizzy
+with the heat and frisks for very pleasure; "with its feet it taps rapidly
+on its resting-place, and thus produces a drumming like that of a shower of
+rain falling thickly on the leaves." Fabre takes a keen delight in the
+production of these pictures, at once so exact and lifelike; but we must
+not therefore suppose that his mind is incapable of the detailed
+descriptions necessitated by the laborious processes of minute anatomy.
+
+Like all sciences, entomology has its uninteresting aspects when we seek to
+study it deeply. Yet with what interest and lucidity has Fabre succeeded in
+expounding the complex morphoses of the obscure and miserable larva of the
+Sitaris, the curious intestine of the Scarabaeus, the secret of the
+spawning of the weevil, and the ingenious mechanisms of the musical
+instruments of the Decticus and the Cicada. With what subtle art he
+explains the song of the cricket, how the five hundred prisms of the
+serrated bow set the four tympana in vibration; and how the song is
+sometimes muffled by a process of muting. (12/10.)
+
+Some of the images suggested to him by the forms of animals are so
+beautiful that certain of his descriptions might well serve to inspire an
+artist, or suggest new motives of decoration in the arts of enamelling,
+gem-engraving, jewellery, etc.
+
+Instead of eternally copying ancient things, or seeking inspiration in
+lifeless texts, why not turn our attention to the numerous and interesting
+motives which are scattered all around us, whose originality consists
+precisely in the fact that they have never yet been employed? Why torture
+the mind to produce more painful elaborations of awkward, frozen, poverty-
+stricken combinations, when Nature herself is at hand, offering the
+inexhaustible casket of her living marvels, full of the profoundest logic
+and as yet unexamined?
+
+If the bee by means of the hexagonal prism has anticipated all the
+geometers in the problem of the economy of space and matter; if the Epeïra
+and the mollusc have invented the logarithmic spiral and its transcendent
+properties; if all creatures "inspired by an aesthetic which nothing
+escapes, achieve the beautiful" (12/11.), surely human art, which can but
+imitate and remember, has only to employ to its profit and transfigure into
+ideal images the natural beauties so profusely furnished by the
+Unconscious.
+
+Modern art, influenced more especially by the subtle Japanese, is already
+treading this path.
+
+What artist could ever engrave on rare metals or model in precious
+substances a more beautiful subject than the wonderful picture of the
+Tarantula offering, at the length of her extended limbs, her white sac of
+eggs to the sun; or the transparent nymph of the Onthophagus taurus, "as
+though carved from a block of crystal, with its wide snout and its enormous
+horns like those of the Aurochs"? (12/12.) What an undiscovered subject he
+might find in the nymph of the Ergatus (12/13.), with its almost
+incorporeal grace, as though made of "translucent ivory, like a communicant
+in her white veils, the arms crossed upon the breast; a living symbol of
+mystic resignation before the accomplishment of destiny"; or in the still
+more mysterious nymph of the Scarabaeus sacer, first of all "a mummy of
+translucent amber, maintained by its linen cerements in a hieratic pose;
+but soon upon this background of topaz, the head, the legs, and the thorax
+change to a sombre red, while the rest of the body remains white, and the
+nymph is slowly transfigured, assuming that majestic costume which combines
+the red of the cardinal's mantle with the whiteness of the sacerdotal alb."
+
+On the other hand, what Sims or Bateman ever imagined weirder caricature
+than the grotesque larva of the Oniticella, with its extravagant dorsal
+hump; or the fantastic and alarming silhouette of the Empusa, with its
+scaly belly raised crozierwise and mounted on four long stilts, its pointed
+face, turned-up moustaches, great prominent eyes, and a "stupendous mitre":
+the most grotesque, the most fantastic freaks that creation can ever have
+evolved? (12/14.)
+
+
+CHAPTER 13. THE EPIC OF ANIMAL LIFE.
+
+Although in his portraits and descriptions Fabre is simple and exact, and
+so full of natural geniality; although he can so handle his words as to
+render them "adequate" to reproduce the moving pictures of the tiny
+creatures he observes, his style touches a higher level, flashes with
+colour, and grows rich with imagery when he seeks to interpret the feelings
+which animate them: their loves, their battles, their cunning schemes, and
+the pursuit of their prey; all that vast drama which everywhere accompanies
+the travail of creation.
+
+It is here in particular that Fabre shows us what horizons, as yet almost
+unexplored, what profound and inexhaustible resources science is able to
+offer poetry.
+
+The breaking of egg or chrysalid is in itself a moving event; for to attain
+to the light is for all these creatures "a prodigious travail."
+
+The hour of spring has sounded. At the call of the field-cricket, the
+herald of the spring, the germs that slumber in nymph or chrysalis have
+broken through their spell.
+
+What haste and ingenuity are required to emerge from the natal darkness, to
+unwrap the swaddling-bands, to break the subterranean shells, to demolish
+the waxen bulkheads, to perforate the soil or to escape from prisons of
+silk!
+
+The woodland bug, whose egg is a masterpiece, invents I know not what
+magical centre-bit, what curious piece of locksmith's work, in order to
+unlock its natal casket and achieve its liberty.
+
+For days the grasshopper "butts its head against the roughness of the soil,
+and wars upon the pebbles; by dint of frantic wriggling it escapes from the
+womb of the earth, bursts its old coat, and is transfigured, opening its
+eyes to the light, and leaping for the first time."
+
+The Bombyx of the pine-tree "decks its brow with points of diamond, spreads
+its wings, and erects its plumes, and shakes out its fleece to fly only in
+the darkness, to wed the same night, and to die on the morrow."
+
+What marvellous inventions, what machinery, what incredible contrivances,
+"in order that a tiny fly can emerge from under ground"!
+
+The Anthrax assumes a panoply of trepans, an assortment of gimlets and
+knives, harpoons and grapnels, in order to perforate its ceiling of cement;
+then the lugubrious black fly appears, all moist as yet with the humours of
+the laboratory of life, steadies itself upon its trembling legs, dries its
+wings, quits its suit of armour, and takes flight."
+
+The blue-fly, buried in the depth of the sand, "cracks its barrel-shaped
+coffin," and splits its mask, in order to disinter itself; the head divides
+into two halves, between which we see emerging and disappearing by turns a
+monstrous tumour, which comes and goes, swells and shrivels, palpitates,
+labours, lunges, and retires, thus compressing and gradually undermining
+the sand, until at last the newborn fly emerges from the depth of the
+catacombs. (13/1.)
+
+Certain young spiders, in order to emancipate themselves, to conquer space,
+and disperse themselves about the world, resort to an ingenious system of
+aviation. They gain the highest point of the thicket, and release a thread,
+which, seized by the wind, carries them away suspended. Each shines like a
+point of light against the foliage of the cypresses. There is a continuous
+stream of tiny passengers, leaping and descending in scattered sheaves
+under the caresses of the sun, like atomic projectiles, like the fountain
+of fire at a pyrotechnic display. What a glorious departure, what an entry
+into the world! Gripping its aeronautic thread, the insect ascends in
+apotheosis! (13/2.)
+
+But if all are called all are not chosen. "How many can move only at the
+greatest peril under the rugged earth, proceeding from shock to shock, in
+the harsh womb of universal life, and, arrested by a grain of sand, succumb
+half-way"!
+
+There are others whom slower metamorphoses condemn to vegetate still longer
+in the subterranean night, before they are permitted to assume their
+festival attire, and share in their turn in the gladness of creation.
+
+Thus the Cicada is forced to labour for long gloomy years in the darkness
+before it can emerge from the soil. At the moment when it issues from the
+earth the larva, soiled with mire, "resembles a sewer-man; its eyes are
+whitish, nebulous, squinting, blind." Then "it clings to some twig, it
+splits down the back, rejects its discarded skin, drier than horny
+parchment, and becomes the Cigale, which is at first of a pale grass-green
+hue." Then,
+
+"Half drunken with her joy, she feasts
+In a hail of fire";
+
+And all day long drinks of the sugared sap of tender bark, and is silent
+only at night, sated with light and heat. The song, which forms part of the
+majestic symphony of the harvest-tide, announces merely its delight in
+existence. Having passed years underground, the cigale has only a month to
+reign, to be happy in a world of light, under the caressing sun. Judge
+whether the wild little cymbals can ever be loud enough "to celebrate such
+felicity, so well earned and so ephemeral"! (13/3.)
+
+All sing for happiness, each after its kind, through the calm of the summer
+days. Their minds are intoxicated; it is their fashion of praying, of
+adoring, of expressing "the joys of life: a full crop and the sun on the
+back." Even the humble grasshopper rubs its flanks to express its joy,
+raises and lowers its shanks till its wing-cases squeak, and is enchanted
+with its own music, which it commences or terminates suddenly "according to
+the alternations of sun and shade." Each insect has its rhythm, strident or
+barely perceptible; the music of the thickets and fallows caressed by the
+sun, rising and falling in waves of joyful life.
+
+The insects make merry; they hold uproarious festival; and they mate
+insatiably; even before forming a mutual acquaintance; in a furious rush of
+living, for "love is the sole joy of the animal," and "to love is to die."
+
+Hardly unwrapped, still dusty from the strenuous labour of deliverance,
+"the female of the Scolia is seized by the male, who does not even give her
+time to wash her eyes." Having slept over a year underground, the Sitares,
+barely rid of their mummy-cases, taste, in the sunlight, a few minutes of
+love, on the very site of their re-birth; then they die. Life surges,
+burns, flares, sparkles, rushes "in a perpetual tide," a brief radiance
+between two nights.
+
+A world of a myriad fairies fills the rustling forest: day and night it
+unfolds a thousand marvellous pictures; about the root of a bramble, in the
+shadow of an old wall, on a slope of loose soil, or in the dense thickets.
+
+"The insect is transfigured for the nuptial ceremony; and each hopes, in
+its ritual, to declare its passion." Fabre had some thought of writing the
+Golden Book of their bridals and their wedding festivals (13/4.); the
+Kamasutra of their feasts and rules of love; and with what art, at once
+frank and reserved, has he here and there handled this wonderful theme! In
+the radiant garden of delight, where no detail of truth is omitted, but
+where nothing shocks us, Fabre reveals himself as he is in his
+conversation; evading the subject where it takes a licentious turn;
+fundamentally chaste and extremely reserved.
+
+At the foot of the rocks the Psyche "appears in the balcony of her boudoir,
+in the rays of the caressing sun; lying on the cloudy softness of an
+incomparable eider-down." She awaits the visit of the spouse, "the gentle
+Bombyx," who, for the ceremony, "has donned his feathery plumes and his
+mantle of black velvet." "If he is late in coming, the female grows
+impatient; then she herself makes the advances, and sets forth in search of
+her mate."
+
+Drawn by the same voluptuous and overwhelming force, the cricket ventures
+to leave his burrow. Adorned "in his fairest attire, black jacket, more
+beauteous than satin, with a stripe of carmine on the thigh," he wanders
+through the wild herbage, "by the discreet glimmer of twilight," until he
+reaches the distant lodging of the beloved. There at last he arrives "upon
+the sanded walk, the court of honour that precedes the entry." But already
+the place is occupied by another aspirant. Then the two rivals fall upon
+one another, biting one another's heads, "until it ends by the retreat of
+the weaker, whom the victor insults by a bravura cry." The happy champion
+bridles, assuming a proud air, as of one who knows himself a handsome
+fellow, before the fair one, who feigns to hide herself behind her tuft of
+aphyllantus, all covered with azure flowers. "With a gesture of a fore-limb
+he passes one of his antennae through his mandibles as though to curl it;
+with his long-spurred, red-striped legs he shuffles with impatience; he
+kicks the empty air; but emotion renders him mute." (13/5.)
+
+In the foliage of the ash-tree the lover of the female Cantharis thrashes
+his companion, who makes herself as small as she can, hiding her head in
+her bosom; he bangs her with his fists, buffets her with his abdomen,
+"subjects her to an erotic storm, a rain of blows"; then, with his arms
+crossed, he remains a moment motionless and trembling; finally, seizing
+both antennae of the desired one, he forces her to raise her head "like a
+cavalier proudly seated on horse and holding the reins in his hands."
+
+The Osmiae "reply by a click of the jaws to the advances of their lovers,
+who recoil, and then, doubtless to make themselves more valiant, they also
+execute a ferocious mandibular grimace. With this byplay of the jaws and
+their menacing gestures of the head in the empty air the lovers have the
+air of intending to eat one another." Thus they preface their bridals by
+displays of gallantry, recalling the ancient betrothal customs of which
+Rabelais speaks; the pretenders were cuffed and derided and threatened with
+a hearty pummelling. (13/6.)
+
+On the arid hillsides, where the doubtful rays of the moon pierce the
+storm-clouds and illumine the sultry atmosphere, the pale scorpions, with
+short-sighted eyes, hideous monsters with misshapen heads, "display their
+strange faces, and two by two, hand in hand, stalk in measured paces amid
+the tufts of lavender. How tell their joys, their ecstasies, that no human
+language can express...!" (13/7.)
+
+However, the glow-worm, to guide the lover, lights its beacon "like a spark
+fallen from the full moon"; but "presently the light grows feebler, and
+fades to a discreet nightlight, while all around the host of nocturnal
+creatures, delayed in their affairs, murmur the general epithalamium."
+(13/8.)
+
+But their happy time is soon over; tragedy is about to follow idyll.
+
+One must live, and "the intestine rules the world."
+
+All creatures that fill the world are incessantly conflicting, and one
+lives only at the cost of another.
+
+On the other hand, in order that the coming generations may see the light,
+the present generations must think of the preservation of the young.
+"Perish all the rest provided the brood flourish!" And in the depth of
+burrows the future larvae who live only for their stomachs, "little ogres,
+greedy of living flesh," must have their prey.
+
+To hunger and maternity let us also add love, which "rules the world by
+conflict."
+
+Such are the components of the "struggle for existence," such as Fabre has
+described it, but with no other motive than to describe what he has
+observed and seen. Such are the ordinary themes of the grandiose battles
+which he has scattered through his narratives, and never did circus or
+arena offer more thrilling spectacles; no jungle ever hid more moving
+combats in its thickets."
+
+"Each has its ruses of war, its methods of attack, its methods of killing."
+
+What tactics--"studied, scientific, worthy of the athletes of the ancient
+palaestra"--are those which the Sphex employs to paralyse the Cricket and
+the Cerceris to capture the Cleona, to secure them in a suitable place, so
+as to operate on them more surely and at leisure!
+
+Beside these master paralysers, so expert in the art of dealing slow death,
+there are those which, with a precision no less scholarly, kill and wither
+their victims at a single stroke, and without leaving a trace: "true
+practitioners in crime."
+
+On the rock-rose bushes, with their great pink flowers, "the pretty
+Thomisus, the little crab-spider, clad in satin," watches for the domestic
+bee, and suddenly kills it, seizing the back of the head, while the
+Philanthus, also seizing it by the head, plunges its sting under the chin,
+neither too high nor too low, but "exactly in the narrow joint of the
+neck," for both insects know that in this limited spot, in which is
+concentrated a small nervous mass, something like a brain, is "the weak
+point, most vulnerable of all," the fault in the cuirass, the vital centre.
+Others, like the Araneidae, intoxicate their prey, and their subtle bite,
+"which resembles a kiss," in whatever part of the body it is applied,
+"produces almost immediately a gradual swoon."
+
+Thus the great hairy Bourdon, in the course of its peregrinations across
+the wastes of thyme, sometimes foolishly strays into the lair of the
+Tarantula, whose eyes glimmer like jewels at the back of his den. Hardly
+has the insect disappeared underground than a sort of shrill rattling is
+heard, a "true death-song," immediately followed by the completest silence.
+"Only a moment, and the unfortunate creature is absolutely dead, proboscis
+outstretched and limbs relaxed. The bite of the rattlesnake would not
+produce a more sudden paralysis."
+
+The terrible spider "crouching on the battlements of his castle, his heavy
+belly in the sun, attentive to the slightest rustling, leaps upon whatever
+passes, fly or Libellula, and with a single stroke strangles his victim,
+and drains its body, drinking the warm blood."
+
+"To dislodge him from his keep needs all the cunning strategy of the
+Pompilus; a terrible duel, a hand-to-hand combat, stupendous, truly epic,
+in which the subtle address and the ingenious audacity of the winged insect
+eventually triumph over the dreadful spider and his poisoned fangs."
+(13/9.)
+
+On the pink heather "the timid spider of the thickets suspends by ethereal
+cables the branching whorl of his snare, which the tears of the night have
+turned into chaplets of jewels...The magical jewellery sparkles in the sun,
+attracting mosquitoes and butterflies; but whosoever approaches too closely
+perishes, a victim of curiosity." Above the funnel is the trap, "a chaos of
+springs, a forest of cordage; like the rigging of a ship dismembered by the
+tempest. The desperate creature struggles in the shrouds of the rigging,
+then falls into the gloomy slaughter-house where the spider lurks ready to
+bleed his prey."
+
+Death is everywhere.
+
+Each crevice of bark, each shadow of a leaf, conceals a hunter armed with a
+deadly weapon, all his senses on the alert. Everywhere are teeth, fangs,
+talons, stings, pincers, and scythes.
+
+Leaping in the long grasses, the Decticus with the ivory face "crunches the
+heads of grasshoppers in his mandibles."
+
+A ferocious creature, the grub of the Hemerobius, disembowels plant-lice,
+making of their skins a battle-dress, covering its back with the
+eviscerated victims, "as the Red Indian ties about his loins the tresses of
+his scalped enemies."
+
+Caterpillars are surrounded by the implacable voracity of the Carabidae:
+
+"The furry skins are gaping with wounds; their contents escape in knots of
+entrails, bright green with their aliment, the needles of the pine-tree;
+the caterpillars writhe, struggling with loop-like movements, gripping the
+sand with their feet, dribbling and gnashing their mandibles. Those as yet
+unwounded are digging desperately in the attempt to escape underground. Not
+one succeeds. They are scarcely half buried before some beetle runs to them
+and destroys them by an eviscerating wound."
+
+At the centre of its net, which seems "woven of moonbeams," in the midst of
+its snare, a glutinous trap of infernal ingenuity, or hidden at a distance
+in its cabin of green leaves, the Epeïra fasciata waits and watches for its
+prey. Let the terrible hornet, or the Libellula auripennis, flying from
+stem to stem, fall into the limed snare; the insect struggles, endeavours
+to unwind itself; the net trembles violently as though it would be torn
+from its cables. Immediately the spider darts forward, running boldly to
+the intruder. With rapid gestures the two hinder limbs weave a winding-
+sheet of silk as they rotate the victim in order to enshroud it...The
+ancient Retiarius, condemned to meet a powerful beast of prey, appeared in
+the arena with a net of cordage lying upon his left shoulder; the animal
+sprang upon him; the man, with a sudden throw, caught it in the meshes; a
+stroke of the trident despatched it. Similarly the Epeïra throws its web,
+and when there is no longer any movement under the white shroud the spider
+draws closer; its venomous fangs perform the office of the trident.
+(13/10.)
+
+The Praying Mantis, that demoniac creature which alone among the insects
+turns its head to gaze, "whose pious airs conceal the most atrocious
+habits," remains on the watch, motionless, for hours at a time. Let a great
+grasshopper chance to come by: the Mantis follows it with its glance,
+glides between the leaves, and suddenly rises up before it; "and then
+assumes its spectral pose, which terrifies and fascinates the prey; the
+wing-covers open, the wings spring to their full width, forming a vast
+pyramid which dominates the back; a sort of swishing sound is heard, like
+the hiss of a startled adder; the murderous fore-limbs open to their full
+extent, forming a cross with the body, and exhibiting the axillae
+ornamented with eyes vaguely resembling those of the peacock's tail, part
+of the panoply of war, concealed upon ordinary occasions. These are only
+exhibited when the creature makes itself terrible and superb for battle.
+Then the two grappling-hooks are thrown; the fangs strike, the double
+scythes close together and hold the victim as in a vice." (13/11.)
+
+There is no peace; night falls and the horrible conflict continues in the
+darkness. Atrocious struggles, merciless duels, fill the summer nights. On
+the stems of the long grasses, beside the furrows, the glow-worm
+"anaethetizes the snail," instilling into it its venom, which stupefies and
+produces sleep, in order to immobilize its prey before devouring it.
+
+Having chorused their joy all the day long in the sunshine, in the evening
+the Cicadae fall asleep among the olives and the lofty plane-trees. But
+suddenly there is a sound as of a cry of anguish, short and strident; it is
+the despairing lamentation of the cicada, surprised in repose by the green
+grasshopper, that ardent hunter of the night, which leaps upon the cicada,
+seizes it by the flank, and devours the contents of the stomach. After the
+orgy of music comes night and assassination.
+
+Such is the gloomy epic which goes forward among the flowers, amidst the
+foliage, under the shadowy boughs, and on the dusty fallows. Such are the
+sights that nature offers amid the profound peace of the fields, behind the
+flowering of the sudden spring-tide and the splendours of the summer. These
+murders, these assassinations are committed in a mute and silent world, but
+"the ear of the mind" seems to hear
+
+"A tiger's rage and cries as of a lion
+Roaring remotely through this pigmy world."
+
+Was it to these thrilling revelations that Victor Hugo intended to apply
+these so wonderfully appropriate lines? Was it he who bestowed upon Fabre,
+according to a poetic tradition, the name of "the Homer of the insects,"
+which fits him so marvellously well?
+
+It is possible, although Fabre himself can cite no evidence to support
+these suggestions; but let us respect the legend, simply because it is
+charming, and because it adds an exact and picturesque touch to the
+portrait of Fabre.
+
+In this drama of a myriad scenes, in which the little actors in their
+rustic stage play each in his turn their parts at the mercy of occasion and
+the hazard of encounter, the humblest creatures are personages of
+importance.
+
+Like the human comedy, this also has its characters privileged by birth,
+clothed in purple, dazzling with embroidery, "adorned with lofty plumes,"
+who strut pretentiously; "its idle rich," covered with robes of gold of
+rustling splendour, who display their diamonds, their topazes and their
+sapphires; who gleam with fire and shine like mirrors, magnificent of mien;
+but their brains are "dense, heavy, inept, without imagination, without
+ingenuity, deprived of all common sense, knowing no other anxiety than to
+drink in the sunlight at the heart of a rose or to sleep off their draughts
+in the shadow of a leaf.
+
+Those who labour, on the contrary, do not attract the eye, and the most
+obscure are often the most interesting. Necessitous poverty has educated
+and formed them, has excited in them "feats of invention," unsuspected
+talents, original industries; a thousand curious and unexpected callings,
+and no subject of poetry equals in interest the detailed history of one of
+these tiny creatures, by which we pass without observing them, amid the
+stones, the brambles, and the dead leaves. It is these above all that add
+an original and epic note to the vast symphony of the world.
+
+But death also has its poetry. Its shadowy domains hold lessons no less
+magnificent, and the most putrid carrion is to Fabre a "tabernacle" in
+which a divine comedy is enacted.
+
+The ant, that "ardent filibuster, comes first, and commences to dissect it
+piecemeal."
+
+The Necrophori "exhaling the odour of musk, and bearing red pompons at the
+end of their antennae," are "transcendent alchemists."
+
+The Sarcophagi, or grey flesh flies, "with red bloodshot eyes, and the
+stony gaze of a knacker"; the Saprinidae, "with bodies of polished ebony
+like pearls of jet"; the Silpha aplata, with large and sombre wing-cases in
+mourning; the shiny slow-trotting Horn-beetle; the Dermestes, "powdered
+with snow beneath the stomach"; the slender Staphylinus; the whole fauna of
+the corpse, the whole horde of artisans of death, "intoxicating themselves
+with purulence, probing, excavating, mangling, dissecting, transmuting, and
+stamping out infection."
+
+Fabre gives a curious exposition of "that strange art" by which the grub of
+the grey bot-fly, the vulgar maggot, by means of a subtle pepsine,
+disintegrates and liquefies solid matter; and it is because this singular
+solvent has no effect upon the epidermis that the fly, in its wisdom,
+chooses by preference the mucous membranes, the corner of the eye, the
+entrance of the nostrils, the borders of the lips, the live flesh of
+wounds, there to deposit its eggs.
+
+With what penetration this original mind has analysed "the operation of the
+crucible in which all things are fused that they may recommence" and has
+expounded the marvellous lesson which is revealed by decomposition and
+putridity!
+
+
+CHAPTER 14. PARALLEL LIVES.
+
+We have now seen what entomology becomes in the hands of the admirable
+Fabre. The vast poem of creation has never had a more familiar and luminous
+interpreter, and you will nowhere find other work like his.
+
+How far he outstrips Buffon and his descriptions of animals--so general, so
+vague, so impersonal--his records unreliable and his entire erudition of a
+second-hand quality!
+
+It is with Réaumur that we are first of all tempted to compare him; and
+some have chosen to see in him only one who has continued Réaumur's work.
+In reality he has eagerly read Réaumur, although at heart he does not
+really enjoy his writings; he has drunk from this fruitful source, but he
+owes him no part of his own rich harvest.
+
+But there are many affinities between them; they have many traits in
+common, despite the points of difference between them.
+
+The illustrious son of Rochelle was born, like Fabre, with a love of all
+natural things, and before attacking the myriad problems of physics and
+natural history, wherein he was to shine by so many curious discoveries, he
+also had prepared himself by a profound study of mathematics.
+
+Luckier than Fabre, however, Réaumur enjoyed not only the advantages of
+birth, but all the material conditions necessary to his ardent intellectual
+activity. Fortune overwhelmed her favourite with gifts, and played no small
+part in his glory by enabling him, from an early age, to profit by his
+leisure and to give a free rein to his ruling passions. He was no less
+modest than the sage of Sérignan; self-effacing before others, says one of
+his biographers, so that they were never made to feel his superiority.
+(14/1.)
+
+In the midst of the beautiful and spacious gardens at the end of the
+Faubourg Saint-Antoine, where he finally made his home, he also contrived
+to create for himself a Harmas after his own heart.
+
+It was there that in the as yet virgin domain of entomology he unravelled
+the riddle of the marvellous republic of the bees, and was able to expound
+and interpret a large number of those tiny lives which every one had
+hitherto despised, and which indeed they continued to despise until the
+days of Fabre, or at least regarded as absolutely unimportant. He was the
+first to venture to suspect their connection with much "that most nearly
+concerns us," or to point out "all the singular conclusions" which may be
+drawn therefrom. (14/2.)
+
+How many details he has enshrined in his interesting "Memoirs," and how
+many facts we may glean from this great master! He, like Fabre, had the
+gift of charming a great number of his contemporaries. Tremblay, Bonnet,
+and de Geer owed their vocations to Réaumur, not to speak of Huber, whose
+genius he inspired.
+
+A physicist before all, and accustomed to delicate and meticulous though
+comparatively simple tasks, he had admirably foreseen the extraordinary
+complication of these inquiries; so much so that, with the modesty of the
+true scientist that he was, he regarded his own studies, even the most
+substantial, as mere indications, intended to point the way to those that
+followed him.
+
+As methodical, in short, as the author of the "Souvenirs," the scrupulous
+Réaumur wrote nothing that he himself had not proved or verified with the
+greatest care; and we may be sure that all that he records of his personal
+and immediate observations he has really seen with his own eyes.
+
+In the wilderness of error he had, like Fabre, an infallible compass in his
+extraordinary common sense; and, equally skilled in extracting from the
+false the little particle of truth which it often contains, he was no less
+fond of listening at the gate of legends, of tracing the source of
+traditions; rightly considering that before deriding them as old-wives'
+tales we should first probe in all directions into their origin and
+foundation. (14/3.)
+
+He was also tempted to experiment, and he well knew that in such problems
+as those he attacked observation alone is often powerless to reveal
+anything. It is enough to recall here one of the most promising and
+unexpected of the discoveries which resulted from his experiments. Réaumur
+was the first to conceive the ingenious idea of retarding the hatching of
+insects' eggs by exposing them to cold, thus anticipating the application
+of cold to animal life and the discoveries of Charles Tellier, whose more
+illustrious forerunner he was; at the same time he discovered the secret of
+prolonging, in a similar fashion, the larval existence of chrysalids during
+a space of time infinitely superior to that of their normal cycle; and what
+is more, he succeeded in making them live a lethargic life for years and
+even for a long term of years, thus repeating at will the miracle of the
+Seven Sleepers. (14/4.)
+
+Too much occupied, however, with the smaller aspect of things, he had not
+the art of forcing Nature to speak, and in the province of psychical
+aptitudes he was barely able to rise above the facts.
+
+As he was powerless to enter into real communion with the tiny creatures
+which he observed, although his observations were conducted with religious
+admiration; as he saw always only the outside of things, like a physicist
+rather than a poet or psychologist, he contented himself with noting the
+functioning of their organs, their methods of work, their properties, and
+the changes which they undergo; he did not interpret their actions. The
+mystery of the life which quivers within and around them eludes him. This
+is why his books are such dry reading. He is like a bright garden full of
+rare plants; but it is a monotonous garden, without life or art, without
+distant vistas or wide perspectives. His works are somewhat diffuse and
+full of repetitions; entire monographs, almost whole volumes, are devoted
+to describing the emerging of a butterfly; but they form part of the
+library of the curious lover of nature; they are consulted with interest,
+and will always be referred to, but it cannot be said that they are read.
+
+After Réaumur, according to the dictum of the great Latreille, entomology
+was confined to a wearisome and interminable nomenclature, and if we except
+the Hubers, two unparalleled observers, although limited and circumscribed,
+the only writer who filled the interregnum between Réaumur and Fabre was
+Léon Dufour.
+
+In the quiet little town whither he went to succeed his father, this
+military surgeon, turned country doctor, lived a busy and useful life.
+
+While occupied with his humble patients, whom he preferred to regard merely
+as an interesting clinic, and while keeping the daily record of his medical
+observations, he felt irresistibly drawn "to ferret in all the holes and
+corners of the soil, to turn over every stone, large or small; to shrink
+from no fatigue, no difficulty; to scale the highest peaks, the steepest
+cliffs, to brave a thousand dangers, in order to discover an insect or a
+plant. (14/5.)
+
+A disciple of Latreille, he shone above all as an impassioned descriptive
+writer.
+
+No one was more skilled in determining a species, in dissecting the head of
+a fly or the entrails of a grub, and no spectacle in the world was for him
+so fascinating as the triple life of the insect; those magical
+metamorphoses, which he justly considered as one of the most astonishing
+phenomena in creation. (14/6.)
+
+He saw further than Réaumur, and burned with the same fire as Fabre, for he
+also had the makings of a great poet. His curiosity had assembled enormous
+collections, but he considered, as Fabre considered, that collecting is
+"only the barren contemplation of a vast ossuary which speaks only to the
+eyes, and not to the mind or imagination," and that the true history of
+insects should be that of their habits, their industries, their battles,
+their loves, and their private and social life; that one must "search
+everywhere, on the ground, under the soil, in the waters, in the air, under
+the bark of trees, in the depth of the woods, in the sands of the desert,
+and even on and in the bodies of animals."
+
+Was not this in reality the ambitious programme which Fabre was later to
+propose to himself when he entered into his Harmas and founded his living
+laboratory of entomology; he also having set himself as his exclusive
+object the study of "the insects, the habits of life, the labours, the
+struggles and the propagation of this little world, which agriculture and
+philosophy should closely consider"? (14/7.)
+
+Dufour also had admirably grasped the place of the insect in the general
+harmony of the universe, and he clearly perceived that parasitism, that
+imbrication of mutually usurping lives, is "a law of equilibration, whose
+object is to set a limit to the excessive multiplication of individuals of
+the same type," that the parasites are predestined to an imprescriptible
+mission, and that this mysterious law "defies all explanation."
+
+On the other hand, he did not become very intimate with these tiny peoples;
+his attention was dispersed over too many points; perhaps he was
+fundamentally incapable of concentrating himself for a long period upon a
+circumscribed object; perhaps he lacked that first condition of genius,
+patience, so essential to such researches: although he enriched science by
+an infinite multitude of precious facts and has recorded a quantity of
+details concerning the habits of insects, he did not succeed in
+representing any one of these innumerable little minds. He had an intense
+feeling for nature, but he was not able to interpret it, and his immense
+volume of work, scattered through nearly three hundred monographs, remains
+ineffective.
+
+Let us compare with his work the vast epic of the "Souvenirs." We become
+familiar with the whole life of the least insect, and all its unending
+related circumstances; we obtain sudden glimpses of insight into our own
+organization, with its abysses and its lacunae, and also into those rich
+provinces or faculties which we are only beginning to suspect in the depths
+of our unconscious activity.
+
+In the evening twilight, after the vast andante of the cicadae is hushed,
+at the hour when the shining glow-worms "light their blue fires," and the
+"pale Italian cricket, delirious with its nocturnal madness, chirrups among
+the rosemary thickets," while in the distance sounds the melodious tinkle
+of the bell-ringer frogs, replying from one hiding-place to another, the
+old master shows us that profound and mysterious magic with which matter is
+endowed by the faintest glimmer of life.
+
+He shows us the intimate connection of things, the universal harmony which
+so intimately allies all creatures; and he shows us also that everywhere
+and all around us, in the smallest object, poetry exists like a hidden
+flame, if only we know how to seek it.
+
+And in revealing so many marvellous energies in even the lowest creatures,
+he helps us to divine the infinity of phenomena still unguessed-at, which
+the subtlety of the unknowable force which thrills through the whole
+universe hides from us under the most trivial appearances.
+
+For he has not told everything; this incommensurable region, which had
+hitherto remained unworked, is far from being exhausted.
+
+How many unknown and hidden things are still left to be gleaned! There will
+be a harvest for all. Remember that "even the humblest species either has
+no history, or the little that has been written concerning it calls for
+serious revision" (14/8.); that a single bush, such as the bramble,
+suffices to rear more than fifty species of insects, and that each species,
+according to the just observation of Réaumur, "has its habits, its tricks
+of cunning, its customs, its industries, its art, its architecture, its
+different instincts, and its individual genius."
+
+What a stupendous alphabet to decipher, of which we have as yet only
+commenced to read the first few letters! When we are able to read it almost
+entirely, when observers are more numerous and have concerted their
+efforts, mutually illuminating, completing and correcting one another,
+then, and then only, we shall succeed, if not in resolving some of those
+high problems which have never ceased to interest mankind, at least in
+seizing some reflected knowledge of ourselves, and in seeing a little
+farther into the kingdom of the mind.
+
+
+CHAPTER 15. THE EVENINGS AT SÉRIGNAN.
+
+But it will doubtless be long before a new Fabre will resume, with the same
+heroic ardour, the life of solitary labour, varied only by a few austere
+recreations.
+
+Rising at six o'clock, he would first of all pace the tiles of his kitchen,
+breakfast in hand; so imperious in him was the need of action, if his mind
+was to work successfully, that even at this moment of morning meditation
+his body must already be in movement. Then, after many turns among the
+bushes of the enclosure, all irised with drops of dew which were already
+evaporating, he went straight to his cell: that is, to the silence of his
+laboratory.
+
+There, in unsociable silence, invisible to all, he worked hard and steadily
+until noon; pursuing an observation or carrying out some experiment, or
+recording what he saw or what he had seen the day before, or re-drafting
+his records in their final form.
+
+How many who have come hither to knock upon the door in these morning
+hours, or to ring at the little gate, silent as the tomb, which gives upon
+the private path frequented only by foot-passengers on their way to the
+fields, have undertaken a fruitless journey! But without such discipline
+would it have been possible to accomplish such a task as his?
+
+At last he would leave his workroom; jaded, exhausted by the excessive
+intensity of his work, "face pale and features drawn." (15/1.)
+
+Now he is "at leisure: the half-day is over" (15/2.); and he can satisfy
+his immense need not of repose, but of relaxation and distraction in less
+severe occupations; for he is never at any time nor anywhere inactive;
+incessantly making notes, with little stumps of pencil which he carries
+about in his pockets, and on the first scrap of paper that comes to hand,
+of all that passes through his mind. Those eternal afternoons, which
+usually, in the depth of the French provinces, prove so dull and wearisome,
+seem short enough to him. Now he will halt before his plants, now stoop to
+the ground, the better to observe a passing insect; always in search of
+some fresh subject of study; or now bending over his microscope. (15/3.)
+Then he undertakes, for his later-born children at Sérignan, the duties
+which he formerly performed for the elder family at Orange: he teaches them
+himself; he has much to do with them, for their sake and for his own as
+well, for he is jealous of possessing them, and he regrets parting with
+them. They too have their tasks arranged in advance.
+
+They are his assistants, his appointed collaborators, who keep and relieve
+guard, undertaking, in his absence, some observation already in hand, so
+that no detail may be lost, no incident of the story that unrolls itself
+sometimes with exasperating slowness beneath the bell-covers of the
+laboratory or on some bush in the garden. He inspires the whole household
+with the fire of his own genius, and all those about him are almost as
+interested as he.
+
+At home, in the house, always wearing his eternal felt hat, and absorbed in
+meditation, he speaks little, holding that every word should have its
+object, and only employing a term when he has tested its weight and
+meaning. Silence at mealtimes again is a rule that no one of his household
+would infringe. But he unbends his brow when he receives a friend at his
+hospitable table, where but lately his smiling wife would sit, full of
+little attentions for him. (15/4.)
+
+Frugal in all respects, he barely touches the dishes before him; avoiding
+all meats, and saving himself wholly for the fruits; for is not man
+naturally frugivorous, by his teeth, his stomach, and his bowels? Certain
+dishes repel him, for reasons of sentiment rather than through any real
+disgust; such as paté de foie gras, which reminds him too forcibly of the
+so cruelly tortured goose; such cruelty is too high a price to pay for a
+mere greasy mouthful. (15/5.) On the other hand, he drinks wine with
+pleasure, the harsh, rough "wine of the country" of the plains of Sérignan.
+He is also well able to appreciate good things and appetizing cookery; no
+one ever had a finer palate; but he is happiest in seeing others appreciate
+the pleasures of the table. Witness that breakfast worthy of Gargantua,
+which he himself organized in honour of his guests, whom he had invited to
+an excursion over the Ventoux Alp; where he seems expressly to have
+commanded "that all should come in shoals." What a tinkling of bottles,
+what piles of bread! There are green olives "flowing with brine," black
+olives "seasoned with oil," sausages of Arles "with rosy flesh, marbled
+with cubes of fat and whole peppercorns," legs of mutton stuffed with
+garlic "to dull the keen edge of hunger"; chickens "to amuse the molars";
+melons of Cavaillon too, with white pulp, not forgetting those with orange
+pulp, and to crown the feast those little cheeses, so delightfully
+flavoured, peculiar to Mont Ventoux, "spiced with mountain herbs," which
+melt in the mouth. (15/6.)
+
+But his greatest pleasure is his pipe; a briar, which in absence of mind he
+is always allowing to go out, and always relighting.
+
+Respectful of all traditions, he has kept up the observance of old customs;
+no Christmas Eve has ever been passed under the roof of his Harmas without
+the consecrated meats upon the table; the heart of celery, the nougat of
+almonds, the dish of snails, and the savoury-smelling turkey. Then, stuck
+into the Christmas bread (15/7.), the sprigs of holly, the verbouisset, the
+sacred bush whose little starry flowers and coral berries, growing amid
+evergreen leaves, affirm the eternal rebirth of indestructible nature.
+
+At Sérignan Fabre is little known and little appreciated. To tell the
+truth, folk regard him as eccentric; they have often surprised him in the
+country lying on his stomach in the middle of a field, or kneeling on the
+ground, a magnifying glass in hand, observing a fly or some one of those
+insignificant creatures in which no sane person would deign to be
+interested.
+
+How should they know him, since he never goes into the village? When he did
+once venture thither to visit his friend Charrasse, the schoolmaster, his
+appearance was an event of which every one had something to say, so greatly
+did it astonish the inhabitants. (15/8.)
+
+Yet he never hesitates to place his knowledge at the service of all, and
+welcomes with courtesy the rare pilgrims in whom a genuine regard is
+visible, although he is always careful never to make them feel his own
+superiority; but he very quickly dismisses, sometimes a trifle hastily,
+those who are merely indiscreet or importunate; pedantic and ignorant
+persons he judges instantaneously with his piercing eyes; with such people
+he cannot emerge from his slightly gloomy reserve; he shuts himself up like
+the snail, which, annoyed by some displeasing object, retires into its
+shell, and remains silent in their presence.
+
+Professors come to consult him: asking his advice as to their programmes of
+instruction, or begging him to resolve some difficult problem or decide
+some especially vexed question; and his explanations are so simple, so
+clear, so logical that they are astonished at their own lack of
+comprehension and their embarrassment. (15/9.)
+
+But there are few who venture within the walls of that enclosure, which
+seems to shut out all the temptations of the outer world; the only intimate
+visitors to the Harmas are the village schoolmaster--first Laurent, then
+Louis Charrasse (15/10.), and later Jullian--and a blind man, Marius.
+
+This latter lost his sight at the age of twenty. Then, to earn a living, he
+began to make and repair chairs, and in his misfortune, although blind and
+extremely poor, he kept a calm and contented mind.
+
+Fabre had discovered the sage and the blind man on his arrival at Sérignan,
+and also Favier (15/11.), "that other native, whose jovial spirit was so
+prompt to respond, and who helped to dig up the Harmas; to set up the
+planks and tiles of the little kitchen-garden; a rude task, since this
+scrap of uncultivated ground was then but a terrible desert of pebbles." To
+Favier fell the care of the flowers, for the new owner was a great lover of
+flowers. Potted plants, sometimes of rare species, were already, as to-day,
+crowded in rows upon the terrace before the house, where all the summer
+they formed a sort of vestibule in the open air, on either side of the
+entrance; and these Fabre never ceased to watch over with constant and
+meticulous care. Both spoke the same language, and the words they exchanged
+were born of a like philosophy; for Favier also loved nature in his own
+way, and at heart was an artist; and when, after the day's work, sitting
+"on the high stone of the kitchen hearth, where round logs of green oak
+were blazing," he would evoke, in his picturesque and figurative language,
+the memories of an old campaigner, he charmed all the household and the
+evening seemed to pass with strange rapidity.
+
+When this precious servant and boon companion had disappeared, after two
+years of digging, sowing, weeding, and hoeing, all was ready; the frame was
+completed and the work could be commenced. It was then that Marius became
+the master's appointed collaborator, and it is he who now constructs his
+apparatus, his experimental cages; stuffs his birds, helps to ransack the
+soil, and shades him with an umbrella while he watches under the burning
+sun. Marius cannot see, but so intimate is his communion with his master,
+so keen his enthusiasm for all that Fabre does, that he follows in his
+mind's eye, and as though he could actually see them, all the doings at
+which he assists, and whose inward reflection lights up his wondering
+countenance.
+
+Marius was not only rich in feeling and the gift of inner vision; he had
+also a marvellously correct ear. He was a member of the "Fanfare" of
+Sérignan, in which he played the big drum, and there was no one like him
+for keeping perfect time and for bringing out the clash of the cymbals.
+
+Charrasse was no less fervent a disciple; he worshipped science and all
+beautiful things; and he could even conceive a noble passion for his
+exhausting trade of school-teaching.
+
+Like Marius, he ate "a bitter bread"; and Fabre would get on with them all
+the better in that they, like himself, had lived a difficult life. "Man is
+like the medlar," he liked to tell them; "he is worth nothing until he has
+ripened a long time in the attic, on the straw."
+
+"L'homme est comme la nèfle, il n'est rien qui vaille
+S'il n'a mûri longtemps, au grenier, sur la paille."
+
+These humble companions afforded him the simple conversation which he likes
+so well; so natural, and so full of sympathy and common sense. They
+customarily spent Thursday and Sunday afternoons at the Harmas; but these
+beloved disciples might call at any hour; the master always welcomed them,
+even in the morning, even when he was entirely absorbed in his work and
+could not bear any one about him. They were his circle, his academy; he
+would read them the last chapter written in the morning; he shared his
+latest discoveries with them; he did not fear to ask advice of their
+"fertile ignorance." (15/12.)
+
+Charrasse was a "Félibre," versed in all the secrets of the Provençal
+idiom, of which he knew all the popular terms, the typical expressions and
+turns of speech; and Fabre loved to consult him, to read some charming
+verses which he had just discovered, or to recite some delightful rustic
+poem with which he had just been inspired; for in such occupations he found
+one of his favourite relaxations, giving free vent to his fancy, a loose
+rein to the poet that dwells within him. These poems the piety of his
+brother has preserved in the collection entitled "Oubreto." It is at such a
+moment that one should see his black eyes, full of fire; his power of
+mimicry and expression, his impassioned features, lit up by inspiration,
+truly idealized, almost transfigured, are at such times a thing to be
+remembered.
+
+Sometimes, again, in the shadow of the planes, on summer afternoons, when
+the cigales were falling silent; or in the winter, before the blazing
+fireplace, in that dining-room on the ground floor in which he welcomed his
+visitors; when out of doors the mistral was roaring and raging, or the rain
+clattering on the panes, the little circle was enlarged by certain new-
+comers, his nephews, nieces, a few intimates, of whom, a little later, I
+myself was often one. At such times his humour and imagination were given
+full play, and it was truly a rare pleasure to sit there, sipping a glass
+of mulled wine, during those delightful and earnest hours; to taste the
+charm of his smiling philosophy, his picturesque conversation, full of
+exact ideas, all the more profound in that they were founded on experience
+and pointed or adorned by proverbs, adages, and anecdotes. Thanks to the
+daily reading of the "Temps," which one of his friends regularly sends him,
+Fabre is in touch with all the ideas of the day, and expresses his judgment
+of them; for example, he does not conceal his scepticism with regard to
+certain modern inventions, such as the aeroplane, whose novelty rather
+disturbs his mind, and whose practical bearing seems to him to be on the
+whole somewhat limited.
+
+Thus even the most recent incidents find their way into the solitude of the
+Harmas and help to sustain the conversation.
+
+"The first time we resume our Sérignan evenings," he wrote to his nephew on
+the morrow of one of these intimate gatherings, "we will have a little chat
+about your Justinian, whom the recent drama of "Théodora" has just made the
+fashion. Do you know the history of that terrible hussy and her stupid
+husband? Perhaps not entirely; it is a treat I am keeping for you."
+(15/13.)
+
+The only subject which is hardly ever mentioned during these evenings at
+Sérignan is politics, although Fabre, strange as it may seem, was one year
+appointed to sit on the municipal council.
+
+The son of peasants, who has emerged from the people yet has always
+remained a peasant, has too keen a sense of injustice not to be a democrat;
+and how many young men has he not taught to emancipate themselves by
+knowledge? But above all he is proud of being a Frenchman; his mind, so
+lucid, so logical, which has never gone abroad in search of its own
+inspirations, and has never been influenced by any but those old French
+masters, François Dufour and Réaumur, and the old French classics, has
+always felt an instinctive repugnance, which it has never been able to
+overcome, for all those ideas which some are surreptitiously seeking to put
+forward in our midst in favour of some foreign trade-mark.
+
+Although his visit to the court of Napoleon III left him with a rather
+sympathetic idea of the Emperor, whose gentle, dreamy appearance he still
+likes to recall, he detested the Empire and the "brigand's trick" which
+established it.
+
+On the day of the proclamation of the Republic he was seen in the streets
+of Avignon in company with some of his pupils. He was agreeably surprised
+at the turn events had taken, and delighted by the unforeseen result of the
+war.
+
+A spirit as proud and independent as his was naturally the enemy of any
+species of servitude. State socialism of the equalitarian and communistic
+kind was to him no less horrifying. Was not Nature at hand, always to
+remind him of her eternal lessons?
+
+"Equality, a magnificent political label, but scarcely more! Where is it,
+this equality? In our societies shall we find even two persons exactly
+equal in vigour, health, intelligence, capacity for work, foresight, and so
+many other gifts which are the great factors of prosperity?...A single note
+does not make a harmony: we must have dissimilar notes; discords even,
+which, by their harshness, give value to the concords; human societies are
+harmonious only thus, by the concourse of dissimilarities." (15/14.)
+
+And what a puerile Utopia, what a disappointing illusion is that of
+communism! Let us see under what conditions, at the price of what
+sacrifices, nature here and there realizes it.
+
+Among the bees "twenty thousand renounce maternity and devote themselves to
+celibacy to raise the prodigious family of a single mother."
+
+Among the ants, the wasps, the termites "thousands and thousands remain
+incomplete and become humble auxiliaries of a few who are sexually gifted."
+
+Would you by chance reduce man to the life of the Processional
+caterpillars, content to nibble the pine-needles among which they live, and
+which, satisfied to march continually along the same tracks, find within
+reach an abundant, easy, and idle subsistence? All have the same size, the
+same strength, the same aptitudes. No initiative. "What one does the others
+do, with equal zeal, neither better nor worse." On the other hand, there is
+"no sex, no love." And what would be a society in which there was no work
+done for pleasure and from which love and the family were banished? What
+would be the effect upon its progress, its welfare, its happiness? Would
+not all that make the charm of life disappear for good? However imperfect
+our present society may be, however mysterious its destinies, it is not in
+socialism that Fabre foresees the perfection of future humanity, for to him
+the true humanity does not as yet exist; it is making its way, it is slowly
+progressing, and in this evolution he wishes with all his heart to believe.
+Modern humanity is as yet only a shapeless grimacing caricature, and its
+life is like a play written by madmen and played by drunken actors;
+according to those profound words of the great poet, with which his mind is
+in some sort imbued; which he often repeats, and which he has transcribed
+at the head of one of his last records as an epigraph and a constant
+reminder.
+
+And you who groan over the distressing problem of depopulation, lend an ear
+to the lesson of the Copris, "which trebles its customary batch of
+offspring in times of abundance, and in times of dearth imitates the
+artisan of the city who has only just enough to live on, or the bourgeois,
+whose numerous wants are more and more costly to satisfy, limiting the
+number of its offspring lest they should go in want, often reducing the
+number of its children to a single one." (15/15.)
+
+Instead of running after so many false appearances and false pleasures,
+learn to return to simpler tastes, to more rustic manners; free yourselves
+from a mass of factitious needs; steep yourself anew in the antique
+sobriety, whose desires were sager; return to the fields, the source of
+abundance, and the earth, the eternal foster-mother!
+
+And in this appeal to return to nature, which perhaps since the time of
+Rousseau has never been worded so eloquently, Fabre has in view if not the
+strong, the predestined, who are called elsewhere, and who are actuated by
+the sense of great tasks to be performed, at least all those of rural
+origin, all those for whom the love of the family, the daily task, and a
+peaceful heart are really the great things of life, the things that count,
+the things that suffice.
+
+He himself, although he was one of the strong, did not care to break any of
+the ties that bound him to his origins. Like the Osmia, "which retains a
+tenacious memory of its home," the beloved village of his childhood has
+never been effaced from his memory, and for a long time the desire to leave
+his bones there haunted him. His mind often returned to it; he thought that
+there, better than anywhere else, he would find peace; that it would please
+him to wander among the rocks, the trees, the stones which he had so loved,
+in the old days, and that all these things would recognize him too.
+
+One day, however, when I was begging him to make up his mind on this point-
+-it was one of those peaceful evenings which are troubled under the plane-
+trees only by the tinkling of the fountain--he confided to me that his
+beloved Sérignan had at last, in his secret preferences, obliterated the
+old longing. As he advanced in life, in fact, although he never forgot his
+rude natal countryside, he felt that new links were daily binding him more
+closely to those heaths and mountains on which his heart had been so often
+thrilled with the intense joy of discovery, and that it was indeed in this
+soil, to him so full of delight, amid its beautiful hymenoptera and
+scarabaei, that he would wish to be buried.
+
+Fabre is by no means the misanthrope that some have chosen to think him. He
+delights in the society of women, and knows how to welcome them gracefully;
+and more than any one he is sensitive to the pleasant and stimulating
+impressions produced by the conversation of cultivated people.
+
+He is no less fond of the arts, provided he finds in them a sincere
+interpretation of life. This is why the theatre, with its false values, its
+tinsel and affectation, has to him seemed a gross deformation of the
+reality, ever since the day when at Ajaccio he attended a performance of
+"Norma," in which the moon was represented by a round transparent disc, lit
+from behind by a lantern hanging at the end of a string, whose oscillation
+revealed by turns first the luminary and then the transparency. This was
+enough to disgust him for ever with the theatre and the opera, whose
+motionless choruses, contrasting with the sometimes frantic movement of the
+music, left him with a memory of an insane and illogical performance.
+
+Nevertheless, he adored music, of which he knew something, having learned
+it, as he learned his drawing, without a master; but he preferred the naive
+songs of the country, or the melody of a flute; to the most scholarly
+concert-music. (15/16.) In the intimacy of the modest chamber which serves
+as the family salon, with its few shabby and old-fashioned pieces of
+furniture, he plays on an indifferent harmonium little airs of his own
+composition, the subjects of which were at first suggested by his own
+poetry. Like Rollinat, Fabre rightly considers that music should complete,
+accentuate, and release that which poetry has perforce left incomplete or
+indefinite. This is why he makes the bise laugh and sing and roar; why he
+imitates the organ-tones of the wind in the pines, and seeks to reproduce
+some of the innumerable rhythms of nature; the frenzy of the lizard, the
+wriggling of the stickle-back, the jumping gait of the frog, the shrill hum
+of the mosquito, the complaint of the cricket, the moving of the Scarabaei,
+and the flight of the Libellulae.
+
+Too busy by day to find time for much reading, it was at night that he
+would shut himself up. Retiring early to his little chamber, with bare
+walls and bare tile floor, and a window opening to the garden, he would lie
+on his low bed, with curtains of green serge, and would often read far into
+the night.
+
+This philosopher, to whose books the philosophers of the future will resort
+for new theories and original ideas, refuses to have any commerce with
+other philosophers, disdaining their systems and preferring to go straight
+to the facts. Even when he took up Darwin's "Origin of Species" he did
+little more than open the book; so wearisome and uninteresting, he told me,
+did he find the reading of it. On the other hand, he is full of the ancient
+philosophers, and as he did not read them very extensively in his youth and
+middle age, he has returned to them finally with love and predilection for
+"these good old books." Unlike many thinkers of the day, he is persuaded
+that we cannot with impunity dispense with classic studies; and he rightly
+considers that science and the humanities are not rivals, but allies. Above
+all he has a particular affection for Virgil; one may say that he is
+steeped in his poetry; and he knows La Fontaine by heart. The style of the
+latter is curiously like his own, and Fabre owns himself as his disciple;
+certainly La Fontaine's is the most active influence which his work
+reveals. He has a profound acquaintance with Rabelais, who was always his
+"friend" and who constantly crops up in his conversation and his chance
+remarks.
+
+After these his intellectual foster-parents have been Courrier, Toussenel,
+of whom he is passionately fond, and Rousseau, of whom he cares for little
+but his "Lettres sur la botanique," full of such fresh impressions, in
+which we feel not the literary man but the "craftsman"; he also cherishes
+Michelet; so full of intuition, although he never handled actual things and
+knew nothing of the practice of the sciences; not learned, but overflowing
+with love; his magic pen, his powers of evocation, and his deft brushwork
+delight Fabre, despite the poverty and insufficiency of his fundamental
+facts (15/17.); sometimes Michelet had been his inspiration. The two do
+really resemble one another; Michelet was no less fitted than Fabre to play
+the confidant to Nature, and his heart was of the same mettle.
+
+Since I have spoken of his favourites, let me also speak of his dislikes;
+Racine, whom he cannot bear; Molière, whom he does not really like; Buffon,
+whom he frankly detests for his too fluent prose, his ostentatious style,
+and his vain rhetoric. The only naturalist whom he might really have
+delighted in, had he possessed his works and been able to read them at
+leisure, is Audubon, the enthusiastic painter of the birds of America. In
+him he felt the presence of a mind and a temper almost identical with his
+own.
+
+
+CHAPTER 16. TWILIGHT.
+
+How he has laboured in this solitude! For he considers that he is still far
+from having completed his task. He feels more and more that he has scarcely
+done more than sketch the history of this singular and almost unknown
+world. "The more I go forward," he wrote to his brother in 1903, "the more
+clearly I see that I have struck my pick into an inexhaustible vein, well
+worthy of being exploited." (16/1.)
+
+What studies he has undertaken, what observations he has carried out,
+"almost at the same time, the same moment!" His laboratory is crowded with
+these subjects of experiments. "As though I had a long future before me"--
+he was then just eighty years old--"I continue indefatigably my researches
+into the lives of these little creatures." (16/2.)
+
+Work in solitude seems to him, more and more, the only life possible, and
+he cannot even imagine any other.
+
+"The outer world scarcely tempts me at all; surrounded by my little family,
+it is enough for me to go into the woods from time to time, to listen to
+the fluting of the blackbirds. The very idea of the town disgusts me.
+Henceforth it would be impossible for me to live in the little cage of a
+citizen. Here I am, run wild, and I shall be so till the end." (16/3.)
+
+For him work has become more than ever an organic function, the true
+corollary of life. "Away with repose! For him who would spend his life
+properly there is nothing like work--so long as the machine will operate."
+
+Is this not the great law for all creatures so long as life lasts?
+
+Why should the man who has made a fortune, who has neither children nor
+relations, and who may die tomorrow, continue to work for himself alone, to
+employ his days and his energies in useless labours which will profit
+neither himself nor his kind?
+
+Ask of the Halictus, which, no longer capable of becoming a mother, makes
+herself guardian of a city, in order still to labour within the measure of
+her means.
+
+Ask of the Osmia, the Megachile, the Anthidium, which "with no maternal
+aim, for the sole joy of labour, strive to expend their forces in the
+accomplishment of their vain tasks, until the forces of life fail."
+
+Ask of the bee, which inaction leaves passive and melancholy so that she
+presently dies of weariness; of the Chalicodoma, so eager a worker that she
+will "let herself be crushed under the feet of the passer-by rather than
+abandon her task."
+
+Ask it of all nature, which knows neither halt nor repose, and who,
+according to the profound saying of Goethe "has pronounced her malediction
+upon all that retards or suspends her progress."
+
+Let us then labour, men and beasts, "so that we may sleep in peace; grubs
+and caterpillars in that torpor which prepares them for the transformation
+into moths and butterflies, and ourselves in the supreme slumber which
+dissolves life in order to renew it."
+
+Let us work, in order to nourish within ourselves that divine intuition
+thanks to which we leave our original impress upon nature; let us work, in
+order to bring our humble contribution to the general harmony of things, by
+our painful and meritorious labour; in order that we may associate
+ourselves with God, share in His creation, and embellish and adorn the
+earth and fill it with wonders. (16/4.)
+
+Forward then! always erect, even amid the tombs, to forget our griefs.
+Fabre finds no better consolation to offer his brother, who has lost almost
+in succession his wife and his eldest daughter:
+
+"Do not take it ill if I have not condoled with you on the subject of your
+recent losses. Tried so often by the bitterness of domestic grief, I know
+too well the inanity of such consolations to offer the like to my friends.
+Time alone does a little cicatrize such wounds; and, let us add, work. Let
+us keep on our feet and at work as long as we are able. I know no better
+tonic." (16/5.)
+
+And this exhortation to work, which recurs so often in the first letters of
+his youth, was to be the last word of the last volume which so splendidly
+terminates the incomparable series of his "Souvenirs": "Laboremus."
+
+...
+
+Age has killed neither his courage nor his energies, and he continues to
+work with the same zeal at nearly ninety years of age, and with as much
+eagerness as though he were destined to live for ever.
+
+Although his physical forces are failing him, although his limbs falter,
+his brain remains intact, and is giving us its last fruit in his studies on
+the Cabbage caterpillar and the Glow-worm, which mark a sudden
+rejuvenescence of thought on his part, and the commencement of a new cycle
+of studies, which promise to be of the greatest originality.
+
+To him the animal world has always been full of dizzy surprises, and the
+insects led him "into a new and barely suspected region, which is ALMOST
+ABSURD." (16/6.)
+
+The glow-worms, motionless on their twigs of thyme, light their lamps of an
+evening, in the cool of the beautiful summer nights. What do these fires
+signify? How explain the mystery of this phosphorescence? Why this slow
+combustion, "this species of respiration, more active than in the ordinary
+state"? and what is the oxidizable substance "which gives this white and
+gentle luminosity"? Is it a flame of love like that which lights the Agaric
+of the olive-tree "to celebrate its nuptials and the emission of its
+spores"? But what reason can the larva have for illuminating itself? Why is
+the egg, already enclosed in the secrecy of the ovaries, already luminous?
+
+"The soft light of the Agaric has confounded our ideas of optics; it does
+not refract, it does not form an image when passed through a lens, it does
+not affect ordinary photographic plates." (16/7.)
+
+But here are other miracles:
+
+"Another fungus, the Clathrix, with no trace of phosphorescence, affects
+photographic plates almost as quickly as would a ray of sunlight. The
+Clathrix tenebrosa does what the Agaricus olearius has no power to do."
+(16/8.)
+
+And if the beacon of the Glow-worm recalls the light of the Agaric, the
+Clathrix reminds us of another insect, the Greater Peacock moth.
+
+In the obscurity of a dark chamber this splendid moth emits phantasmal
+radiations, perhaps intermittent and reserved for the season of nuptials,
+signals invisible to us, and perceptible only to those children of the
+night, who may have found this means to communicate one with another, to
+call one another in the darkness, and to speak with one another. (16/9.)
+
+Such are the interesting subjects which only yesterday were occupying this
+great worker; the occult properties, the radiant energies of organic
+matter; of phosphorescence, of light, the living symbols of the great
+universal Eros.
+
+But embarrassment long ago succeeded the ephemeral prosperity which marked
+the first years of his installation at Sérignan, and that period of plenty
+was followed by a period of difficulty, almost of indigence. His class-
+books, which had succeeded marvellously, and from which the royalties had
+quickly attained to nearly 640 pounds sterling, which was the average
+figure for nearly ten years, were then no longer in vogue. Already the
+times had changed. France was in the crisis of the anti-clerical fever.
+Fabre made frequent allusions in his books of a spiritual nature, and many
+primary inspectors could not forgive what they regarded as a blemish.
+
+We must also mention the keen competition caused by the appearance of
+similar books, usually counterfeit, and the more harmful for that; and as
+their adoption depended entirely on the caprice of commissions or the
+choice of interested persons, those of Fabre were gradually ceasing to
+sell.
+
+It was from 1894 especially that their popularity declined so rapidly:
+
+"Despite all my efforts here I am more anxious than ever about the future,"
+he wrote to his publisher on the 27th of January, 1899; "two more of my
+books are about to disappear, a prelude to total shipwreck...I begin to
+despair." (16/10.)
+
+He was not the man to have saved much money; numerous charges were always
+imposing themselves on him, and his first wife, careless of expenditure,
+had been somewhat extravagant.
+
+While his position as teacher deteriorated his "Souvenirs" brought him
+little more than a nominal profit; for to most people he was still
+completely unknown among the potentates who monopolize the attention of the
+crowd.
+
+"Work such as a Réaumur might be proud of will leave me a beggar, that goes
+without saying, but at least I shall have left my grain of sand. I would
+long ago have given up in despair, had I not, to give me courage, the
+continual research after truth in the little world whose historian I have
+become. I am hoarding ideas, and I make shift to live as I can." (16/11.)
+
+Yet his reputation had long ago crossed the frontiers of his country. He
+had been a corresponding member of the Institute of France since 1887, and
+a Petit d'Ormoy prizeman. (16/12.) He was a member of the most celebrated
+foreign academies, and the entomological societies of the chief capitals of
+Europe; but his fame had not passed the walls of these academies and the
+narrow boundaries of the little world of professional biologists and
+philosophers.
+
+Even in these circles, where he was almost exclusively read and
+appreciated, he was little known, and although he was much admired,
+although he was readily given credit for his admirable talent and
+exceptional knowledge, his readers were far from realizing the real powers
+of this world of life which he has called into being. His books are of
+those whose fertilizing virtues remain long hidden, to shine only at a
+distance, when much frothy writing, that has made a sudden noise in its
+time, has fallen into oblivion.
+
+Every two or three years, after much fond polishing, he would open the door
+to yet another volume which was ready to go forth; adding astonishing
+chapters of the history of insects, wonderful fragments of animal
+psychology, but always obtaining only the same circumscribed success; that
+is, exciting no public curiosity, and remaining unperceived in the midst of
+general indifference.
+
+His books interested only a select class, who, it is true, welcomed them
+eagerly, and read them with wonder and delight. If they excited the
+curiosity of a few philosophers, of scientists and inquirers, and here and
+there determined a vocation, still more, perhaps, did they charm writers
+and poets; they consoled Rostand at the end of a serious illness, their
+virtue, in some sort healing, procuring him both moral repose and a
+delightful relaxation. (16/13.) For all these, we may say, he has been one
+of those ten or twelve authors whom one would wish to take with one into a
+long exile, were they reduced to choosing no more before leaving
+civilization for ever.
+
+Yet we must admit that this work has certain undeniable faults. The title,
+in the first place, has nothing alluring about it, and is calculated to
+deter rather than to attract purchasers, by evoking vague ideas of
+repulsive studies, too arduous or too special.
+
+People have no idea of the wonderful fairyland concealed by this unpopular
+title; no conception that these records are intended, not merely for the
+scientist pure and simple, but in reality for every one.
+
+Moreover, the first few volumes were in no way seductive. They boasted not
+the most elementary drawings to help the reader; not the slightest woodcut
+to give a direct idea of the insects described; of their shape, aspect, or
+physiognomy; and a simple sketch, however poor, is often worth more than
+long and laborious descriptions. The first volumes especially, printed
+economically, at the least possible expense, were not outwardly attractive.
+
+It is also true that he had never founded any great hopes on the sale of
+such works.
+
+Very few people are really interested in the lower animals, and Fabre has
+been reproached with wasting his time over "childish histories, unworthy of
+serious attention and unlikely to make money," of wasting in frivolous
+occupations the time which is passing so quickly and can never return. And
+why should he have still further wasted so many precious hours in executing
+minute drawings whose reproduction would have involved an expenditure which
+his publisher would not dare to venture upon, and which he himself could
+not afford?
+
+For this universal inquirer was well fitted for such a task, and all these
+creatures which he had depicted he is capable of representing with brush
+and pencil as faithfully as with his pen. He had it in him to be not only a
+writer, but an excellent draughtsman, and even a great painter. He has
+reproduced in water-colour, with loving care, the decorations of the
+specimens of prehistoric pottery which his excavations have revealed, and
+which he has endeavoured to reconstruct, with all the science of an
+archaeologist. He has displayed the same skill in water-colour in that
+astonishing iconography, in which he has detailed, with marvellous
+accuracy, all the peculiarities of the mycological flora of the olive-
+growing districts. (16/14.)
+
+As for those "paltry figures" insufficient or flagrantly incorrect in
+drawing, with which many people are satisfied, he regards them as
+"intolerable" in his own books, and as absolutely contradicting the
+rigorous accuracy of his text. (16/15.)
+
+Of late years photography and the skill of his son Paul have supplied this
+deficiency. He taught his son to fix the insects on the sensitive plate in
+their true attitudes, in the reality of their most instantaneous gestures.
+However valuable such documents may be, how much we should prefer fine
+drawings, giving relief not only to forms and colours, but also to the most
+characteristic features and the whole living physiognomy of the creature!
+This is the function of art; but the great artist that was in Fabre was
+capable in this domain of rivalling the magical talent of an Audubon.
+
+Such work was relinquished, although so many romances of nature, so much
+dishonest patch-work, won the applause due to success.
+
+Fabre fell more and more into a state bordering on indigence, and finally
+he was quite forgotten. An opponent of evolution, he was out of the
+fashion. The encyclopaedias barely mentioned him. Lamarckians and
+Darwinians, who still made so much noise in the world, ignored him; and no
+one came now to open the gate behind which was ageing, in obscurity and
+deserted, "one of the loftiest and purest geniuses which the civilized
+world at that moment possessed; one of the most learned naturalists and one
+of the most marvellous of poets in the modern and truly legitimate sense of
+the word." (16/16.)
+
+In the department of Vaucluse, where he lived for more than sixty years, in
+Avignon itself, where he had taught for twenty years, the prefect Belleudy,
+who had succeeded in approaching him, was astonished and distressed to find
+"so great a mind so little known"; for even those about him scarcely knew
+his name. (16/17.)
+
+But what matter! The hermit of Sérignan was not discouraged; he was
+disturbed only by the failure of his strength, and the fear that he could
+not much longer exercise that divine faculty which had always consoled him
+for all his sorrows and his disappointments. He could scarcely drag his
+weary limbs across the pebbles of his Harmas; but he bore his eighty-seven
+years with a fine disdain for age and its failings, and although the fire
+of his glance and that whole, eager countenance still expressed his passion
+for the truth, his abrupt gestures, touched with irony, his simple bearing,
+and the extreme modesty of his whole person, spoke sufficiently of his
+profound indifference toward outside contingencies, for the baubles of fame
+and all the stupidities of life.
+
+At a few miles' distance, in another village, that other great peasant,
+Mistral, the singer of Provence, the poet of love and joy, the minstrel of
+rustic labour and antique faiths, was pursuing, amid the homage of his
+apotheosis, the incredible cycle of his splendid existence.
+
+This glory had come to him suddenly; this fame "whose first glances are
+sweeter than the fires of dawn," and which was never to desert him for
+fifty long years.
+
+The wind of favour which had sweetened his youth continued to propel him in
+full sail. He had only to show himself to be at once surrounded,
+felicitated, worshipped; and his mere presence would sway a crowd as the
+black peaks of the high cypresses are swayed by the great wind that bears
+his name. Like Fabre, he had remained faithful to his native soil; that
+soil which the great naturalist had never been able to leave without at
+once longing impatiently to return to its dusty olives where the cigale
+sings, its ilex trees and its thickets; and so he lived far from the
+cities, in a quiet village, with the same horizon of plains and hills that
+were balmy with thyme, leading in his little home an equal life full of
+wisdom and simplicity.
+
+The hermit of Sérignan was the Lucretius of this Provence, which had
+already found its Virgil. With a very different vision, each had the same
+rustic tastes, the same love of the free spaces of wild nature and the
+scenes of rural life. But Mistral, wherever he looked, saw human life as
+happy and simple, through the prism of his creative imagination and the
+optimism of his happy life. Fabre, on the contrary, behind the sombre
+realities which he studied, saw only the ferocious engagement of confused
+living forces, and a frightful tragedy.
+
+Thus their two lives, which were like parallel lines, never meeting, were
+in keeping with their work. And while Mistral, still young and triumphant
+despite the years, was at Maillane overwhelmed with honours and
+consideration, the poor great man of Sérignan lived an obscure and
+inglorious existence.
+
+He had the greatest trouble to live and rear his family, and almost his
+sole income consisted of an uncertain sum of 120 pounds sterling annually,
+which he had for some years received, in the guise of a pension, by the
+generosity of the Institute, as the Gegner prize.
+
+Finally his situation was so precarious that he decided to sell to a museum
+that magnificent collection of water-colour plates in which he had
+represented, life-size and with an astonishing truth of colour, all the
+fungi which grow in Provence.
+
+He wrote to Mistral on the subject, after the visit which the latter paid
+him in the spring of 1908: the only visit of the kind. Before meeting in
+Saint-Estelle, the Paradise of the Félibres, they had wished not to die
+before at least meeting on this earth.
+
+Fabre wrote to mistral the following letter, which I owe to the kindness of
+the great poet:--
+
+"I have never thought of profiting by my humble fungoid water-
+colours...Fate will perhaps decide otherwise.
+
+"In this connection, permit me to make a confession, to which your nobility
+of character encourages me. Until latterly I had lived modestly on the
+product of my school-books. To-day the weathercock has turned to another
+quarter, and my books no longer sell. So here I am, more than ever in the
+grip of that terrible problem of daily bread. If you think, then, that with
+your help and that of your friends, my poor pictures might help me a
+little, I have decided to let them go, but not without bitterness. It is
+like tearing off a piece of my skin, and I still hold to this old skin,
+shabby as it may be; a little for my own sake, much more for my family's,
+and much more again for the sake of my entomological studies, studies which
+I feel obliged to pursue, persuaded that for a long time to come no one
+will care to resume them, so ungrateful is the calling." (16/18.)
+
+At the instigation of the poet the prefect Belleudy took it upon him to
+intercede with the Minister, from whom he finally wrung a grant of 40
+pounds sterling, "in encouragement of the sciences." Finally he ventured to
+reveal the situation to the General Council of Vaucluse, and to require it
+to contribute at least its share, in order to ensure a peaceful and decent
+old age to a man who was not only the greatest celebrity of the department,
+but also one of the highest glories of the nation. He pleaded so well and
+so nobly that the assembly granted Fabre an annual sum of 20 pounds
+sterling, "as the public homage which his compatriots pay to his lofty
+science and HIS EXCESSIVE MODESTY." (16/19.) At the same time, in a
+generous impulse, the Council placed at his disposal all the scientific
+equipment of the departmental laboratory of agricultural analysis, which
+was no longer used; there was indeed talk of suppressing it.
+
+Now that the burden of his days weighed so heavily on him, and his task was
+virtually finished, everything, by the customary irony of things, was
+coming his way simultaneously: not only what was necessary and
+indispensable, but even something that was superfluous.
+
+So one day all these delicate instruments, useless to a biologist who by
+the very nature of his labours had done without them all his life, and had
+never wearied of denying their utility, arrived at Sérignan. He did not
+possess even one modest thermometer; and as for the superb microscope over
+which he so often bent, the only costly instrument in his rustic
+laboratory, it was a precious present which, at the instigation of Duruy,
+Dumas the chemist had given him years before; but a simple lens very often
+sufficed him. "The secrets of life," he somewhere writes, "are to be
+obtained by simple, makeshift, inexpensive means. What did the best results
+of my inquiry into instinct cost me? Only time, and above all, patience."
+
+It was then that a few of his disciples, finally affected by such
+abandonment, decided to celebrate his jubilee, hoping thus to reveal both
+his name and his wonderful books to the crowd that knew nothing of him.
+(16/20.)
+
+It was time; a little longer, and, according to his racy phrase, "the
+violins would have come too late." The old master is daily nearer his
+decline; his sight, once so piercing, is now so obscured that he can barely
+see to sign his name, in a small, tremulous hand, confused and illegible.
+His muscles are so feeble now that he can walk only in short steps, on his
+wife's arm, leaning on a cane; and he would soon be piteously exhausted
+were not some seat available within immediate reach. Very soon now he will
+no longer hope to make the tour of this Harmas, which his feet have trodden
+daily for thirty years. In this failure of the body, all that survives are
+the two sparkling cavities of his eyes and his extraordinary memory.
+
+But he is far from being mournful: he feels only an immense lassitude, and
+an infinite regret that perhaps he will not be able to bring his series of
+"Souvenirs" to the point he had desired; not wishing to die until he has
+pushed his career as far as is in his power; without having worked, on his
+feet, until the very hour when the light of this world is suddenly
+withdrawn, and his eyes open upon the infinite life, beyond the infinite
+worlds of space.
+
+The festival took place on the 3rd of April of the year 1910, and was
+touching in its simplicity.
+
+What an unforgettable day in the life of Fabre! That morning the gate of
+the Harmas was left open to all, and many of the people of Sérignan who
+invaded the garden were able to look for the first time on the face of
+their fellow-citizen, who had so long lived among them, and whom they had
+now, to their astonishment, discovered.
+
+But among the crowd of friends and admirers who, coming from all parts,
+pressed around the little pink house, the most amazed of all was Marius,
+the blind cabinet-maker, unable to contain his intense delight at the
+sudden burning of so much incense before his idol, for to him it had seemed
+that this day of apotheosis would never dawn!
+
+For nothing was certain, although the day of the jubilee had long been
+fixed. In the first place there had been serious defections in the ranks of
+the official personages who were to take part in the ceremony. Then the
+weather was terrible for the time of year; the spring had commenced
+gloomily, a season of floods and catastrophes. But on this morning the rain
+of days had ceased to fall, and suddenly the sun appeared.
+
+Among other compliments and marks of homage the old man was presented with
+a golden plaque, on one side of which Sicard, who stood revealed as a
+master of the burin, had engraved his portrait with rare fidelity. The
+reverse was resplendent with one of the most beautiful syntheses which the
+history of art has known; a surprising allegory, in which the imagination
+of the artist evoked the man of science, the singer of the insects, the
+landscape which had seen the birth of so many little lives, and the village
+amid the olive-trees, in front of the sun-steeped Ventoux.
+
+At this festival, the jubilee of a scientist, the scientists were least
+numerous.
+
+The banquet was given in the large room of a cafe in the midst of Sérignan;
+in order, no doubt, that in this humble life even glory should be modest.
+
+As Fabre could not walk, he was helped into the carriage of ceremony, which
+was sent expressly from Orange, and the little procession, which was
+swelled by the municipal choral society, spurred on by Marius, moved slowly
+off along the sole central street.
+
+It was a great family repast: one of those love-feasts in which all
+communicate in a single thought.
+
+Edmond Perrier brought the naturalist the homage of the Institute, and
+expressed in unaffected terms the just admiration which he himself felt.
+The better to praise him, he gave a summary of his admirable career, and
+his immortal work. At the evocation of this long past of labour Fabre
+regretted his poor vanished joys, "the sole moments of happiness in his
+life."
+
+Moved to tears, by his memories and by the simple and pious homage at last
+rendered to his genius, he wept, and many, seeing him weep, wept with him.
+
+Others spoke in the name of the great anonymous crowd of friends, of all
+those who had found a source of infinite enjoyment in his works. At the
+same time the greatest writers, the greatest poets sent on the same day, at
+the same hour, their salutation or eloquent messages to the "Virgil of the
+insects" (16/21.), to the "good magician who knew the language of the
+myriad little creatures of the fields." (16/22.)
+
+Doubtless he would sooner or later have received full justice; but without
+this circumstance it is permissible to add that the end of his life would
+have passed amidst the completest oblivion, and that he would have taken
+leave of the world without attracting any particular attention. His death
+would have occurred unperceived, and when the little vault of Vaison stone,
+up in the small square enclosure of pebbles which serves as the village
+cemetery, where those he has loved await him, came to be opened for the
+last time, they would hardly have troubled to close it again.
+
+Yet the honours paid him were far from being such as he merited.
+
+Why, at this jubilee of the greatest of the entomologists, was not a single
+appointed representative of entomology present? (16/22.)
+
+The fact is that the majority of those who "amid the living seek only for
+corpses," according to the expression of Bacon, unwilling to see in Fabre
+anything more than an imaginative writer, and being themselves incapable of
+understanding the beautiful and of distinguishing it in the true,
+reproached him, perhaps with more jealousy than conviction, with having
+introduced literature into the domains of science.
+
+Other entomological specialists accuse him of presenting in the guise of
+science discoveries which have been made by others. But in the first place,
+as he has read very little, he certainly did not know all that had been
+done by others; and what matter if he had discovered nothing essential
+concerning this or that insect if the result of his study of it has been to
+impregnate it with something new, or to touch it with the breath of life?
+
+Others, finally, who wished to see with their own eyes the proof of his
+statements, have reproached him with a few errors; but he observed so
+skilfully that these errors, if any have really slipped into his books,
+cannot be very serious.
+
+He was one of the glories of the University, but it failed to add to the
+brilliance of this ceremony, and it is to be regretted that the Government
+could not amid its temporary preoccupations have done with all the
+spontaneity that might have been looked for the one thing which might on
+this memorable date have atoned for its unjust obliviousness. Since Duruy
+had created Fabre a chevalier of the Empire more than forty years had gone
+by, and in this long interval Fabre was absolutely ignored by the
+authorities. While the State daily raises so many commonplace men to the
+highest honours, it was afterwards needful to procure the intervention of
+influential persons, to justify his worth and to prove his deserts, in
+order to obtain his promotion through one degree of rank in that Legion of
+Honour which his eminent services had so long adorned.
+
+This tardy reparation at least had the result of shedding a twilight of
+glory over the evening of his life, and from that day he suddenly appeared
+in his true place and took his rank as a man of the first order. Everybody
+began to read him, and presently no one was willing to seem ignorant of
+him, for more of his "Souvenirs entomologiques" were sold in a few months
+than had been disposed of in more than twenty years. (16/24.)
+
+At last Fabre experienced not only glory and renown, but also popularity.
+This was only justice, for his is essentially a popular genius. Has he not
+striven all his life to place the marvels of science within reach of all?
+And has he not written above all for the children of the people?
+
+So at last people have learned the way to the Harmas; they go thither now
+in crowds, to visit the enclosure and the modest laboratory, as to a
+veritable place of pilgrimage which attracts from afar many fervent
+admirers.
+
+Some, it is true, go thither to see him simply as an object of curiosity;
+but even among these there are those who on returning thence, full of
+enthusiasm for what they have seen, find the flowers of the fields more
+sweet and fragile, and the wild fragrance of the woods and hedges more
+voluptuous, and the green of the trees more tender. They have learnt to
+look at the earth and to "kneel in the grass."
+
+Scientists come to chat with the scientist. Others come to salute the
+primary schoolman, the lay instructor, the great pedagogue whose glory is
+reflected upon all the primary schools of France.
+
+Those who cannot visit him write, telling him of all the pleasure which
+they owe him, thanking him for long and delightful hours passed in the
+reading of his books, expressing the hope that he may yet live many years,
+and still further increase the number of his "Souvenirs."
+
+Some ask him a host of questions relating to entomology or philosophy;
+others ask him for impossible answers to some of the fascinating and
+mysterious problems which he has expounded; women confide in him their
+little private griefs or their intimate sorrows, a naive form of homage;
+but a thousand times more touching than any other, and one that shows how
+profound has been the beneficent influence of his books upon certain
+isolated minds, and what consolation can be derived from science when it
+finds a sufficiently eloquent voice to interpret it.
+
+As he can work no longer, these visits now fill his life, formally so
+occupied; and in the midst of all the sympathy extended to him he is
+sensible, not of the twilight, but of a sunrise; he feels that his work has
+been good, that an infinity of minds are learning through him to regard
+plants and animals with greater affection; and that the consideration of
+men, finally directed upon his work, will not readily exhaust it, for it is
+one of the Bibles of Nature.
+
+
+
+
+NOTES.
+
+NOTES TO INTRODUCTION.
+
+Introduction/1. Letters to his brother, 1898-1900.
+
+Introduction/2. I have made some valuable "finds" here; among other pieces
+cited the fragment on "Playthings," the curious description of the
+"Eclipse," and the poem on "Number" are here published for the first time.
+
+Introduction/3. This negligence in the matter of correspondence is not
+least among the causes which have mitigated against his popularity.
+
+NOTES TO CHAPTER 1.
+
+1/1. "It is a country that has very little charm." To his brother, 18th
+August, 1846.
+
+1/2. "Practicien, homme d'affaires ou de chicane": roughly, "practitioner,
+man of business or law": so his father is described in his birth
+certificate.
+
+1/3. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 2nd series, chapter 4, and 7th series,
+chapter 19.
+
+1/4. Id., 8th series, chapter 8.
+
+1/5. To his brother, 15th August, 1896.
+
+1/6. Id. "As brothers, we are one only; but in virtue of our different
+tastes we are two, and I am amused and interested where you might well be
+bored."
+
+1/7. Frédéric Fabre, like his brother, an ex-scholar of the normal primary
+school of Vaucluse, was first of all teacher at Lapalud (Vaucluse), then
+professor in the communal college of Orange. He was director of the primary
+school attached to the normal school of Avignon, where he voluntarily
+retired from teaching in 1859. He then became, successively, secretary to
+the Chamber of Commerce of Avignon, director of the Vaucluse Docks, and
+finally director of the Crillon Canal, which position he still occupies
+(December, 1912).
+
+1/8. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 10th series, chapter 9.
+
+1/9. Among his innumerable manuscripts I have found a vast number of little
+poems, which date from this period.
+
+1/10. It was then that he gave up his position to his brother Frédéric, who
+had continually followed closely in his steps, and who in turn had just
+obtained the qualification of pupil-teacher and bursar (August, 1842).
+
+1/11. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 10 series, chapter 21.
+
+1/12. To his brother, 2nd and 9th of June, 1851.
+
+
+NOTES TO CHAPTER 2.
+
+2/1. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 1st series, chapter 20, and 9th series,
+chapter 13.
+
+2/2. Id., 6th series, chapter 21.
+
+2/3. To his brother, from Ajaccio, 10th June, 1850.
+
+2/4. Id., id.
+
+2/5. Id., from Carpentras, 15th August, 1846.
+
+2/6. Id., from Ajaccio, 10th June, 1850.
+
+2/7. Id., from Carpentras, 15th August, 1846.
+
+2/8. Id., id.
+
+2/9. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 1st series, chapter 14.
+
+2/10. To his brother, from Carpentras, 3rd September, 1848.
+
+2/11. Id., 8th September, 1848.
+
+2/12. Id., id.
+
+2/13. Id., 3rd September, 1848.
+
+2/14. Id., id.
+
+2/15. Letter to the Rector of the Nîmes Academy, 29th September, 1848.
+
+2/16. To his brother, 29th September, 1848.
+
+NOTES TO CHAPTER 3.
+
+3/1. To his father, from Ajaccio, 14th April, 1850.
+
+3/2. To his brother, from Ajaccio, 1851.
+
+3/3. To his brother, from Ajaccio, 9th June, 1851.
+"I have set to work upon a conchology of Corsica, which I hope soon to
+publish."
+
+3/4. The Helix Raspaillii.
+
+3/5. To his brother, from Ajaccio, 10th June, 1850.
+
+3/6. Id., id.
+
+3/7. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 9th series, chapter 14.
+
+3/8. Number, (Le Nombre--ARITHMOS), poem, Ajaccio, September, 1852.
+
+3/9. To his brother, from Ajaccio, 2nd June, 1851.
+
+3/10. Id., 10th October, 1852, and "Souvenirs entomologiques," 10th series,
+chapter 21.
+
+3/11. Fr. Mistral, "Mémoires."
+Moquin-Tandon, born at Montpellier, was professor of Natural History at
+Marseilles, at Toulouse, and in Paris.
+
+3/12. To his brother, from Ajaccio, 10th October, 1852.
+
+3/13. Id.
+
+3/14. To his brother, from Carpentras, 3rd December, 1851.
+"Our crossing was atrocious. Never have I seen so terrible a sea, and that
+the packet-boat was not broken up by the force of the waves must have been
+due to the fact that our time had not yet come. On two or three occasions I
+thought my last moment was at hand; I leave you to imagine what a terrible
+experience I had. In ordinary weather the packet by which we travelled
+makes the voyage from Ajaccio to Marseilles in about eighteen hours; it is
+said to be the fastest steamer on the Mediterranean. On this occasion it
+took three days and two nights."
+
+3/15. January, 1853.
+
+NOTES TO CHAPTER 4.
+
+4/1. To his brother, from Avignon, 1st August, 1854.
+"I have arrived at Toulouse, where I have passed the best examination one
+could possibly wish. I have been accepted as licentiate with the most
+flattering compliments, and the expenses of the examination should be
+returned to me. The examination was of a higher level than I had expected."
+
+4/2. To M. -- (of the Institute), from Avignon, 1854.
+(Letter communicated to M. Belleudy, prefect of Vaucluse, by M. Vollon,
+painter.)
+
+4/3. Id.
+
+4/4. To his brother, from Ajaccio, 10th October, 1852.
+
+4/5. Observations concerning the habits of the Cerceris and the cause of
+the long preservation of the coleoptera with which it provisions its
+larvae.--"Annales de Sc. natur.," 4th series, 1855.
+
+4/6. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 10th series, chapter 22.
+
+4/7. "I had only one idea: to free myself, to leave the lycée, where, not
+being a fellow, I was treated as a subordinate. An inspector-general told
+me frankly one day, 'You will never amount to anything if you are not a
+fellow' (agrégé). 'These distinctions disgust me,' I replied."
+(Conversations.)
+
+4/8. To his brother, from Ajaccio, 14th January, 1850.
+
+4/9. Inquiries respecting the tubercles of Himantoglossum hircinum. Thesis
+in Botany, 1855.
+
+4/10. Inquiries respecting the anatomy of the reproductive organs, and the
+developments of the Myriapoda. Thesis in Zoology, 1855.
+
+4/11. Prize for experimental physiology, 1856.
+
+4/12. Letter to Léon Dufour, 1st February, 1857.
+
+4/13. "The Origin of Species," 1857 (?), translated by Barbier, page 15.
+
+4/14. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 1st series, chapter 1, and 5th series,
+chapter 1.
+
+4/15. Id., 1st series, chapter 16.
+
+4/16. Id., 1st series, chapter one.
+
+4/17. Henry Devillario, magistrate at Carpentras, where he performed his
+duties as juge d'instruction until his death. A notable collector and
+distinguished publicist.
+Dr. Bordone, to-day at Frontignan. Vayssières, professor of Zoology in the
+faculty of sciences at Marseilles.
+
+4/18. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 1st series, chapter 13.
+
+4/19. He was subject in his youth to violent headaches, "which sometimes
+developed into a cerebral fever," as well as strange nervous troubles: "A
+few days ago I was attacked, at night, with a sudden nervous illness, of a
+terrifying nature, which I have not as yet been able to identify." To his
+brother, 3rd September, 1848.
+Severe disappointment or annoyance always had a great effect upon him; on
+the occasion of his first marriage he fell into a sort of cataleptic
+condition as a result of the opposition of his parents and relations, who
+sought to oppose it. (Conversations with his brother.)
+
+4/20. "Souvenirs entomologiques" 9th series, chapter 23.
+
+4/21. Id., 10th series, chapter 22.
+
+4/22. Letter to Lèon Dufour, 1st February, 1857.
+"Steps have been taken to obtain for me the post of drawing-master (maître
+des travaux graphiques). If they succeed, thanks to the little talent I
+have for drawing, my salary will reach a reasonable figure, 120 pounds
+sterling, and I can then, by giving up these abominable private lessons,
+cultivate rather more seriously the studies into which you have initiated
+me." Communicated by M. Achard.
+
+4/23. "Souvenirs entomologiques" 10th series, chapter 22.
+
+4/24. Oubreto Prouvençalo. La Cigale et la Fourmi.
+
+4/25. Lavisse. A minister. Victor Duruy.
+
+4/26. Letter to the municipal councillors of Avignon.
+
+4/27. J. Stuart Mill, "Autobiography," chapter 6.
+
+4/28. I have visited this house; nothing, at all events outside, has
+changed in the least.
+
+4/29. Mill collaborated in his "Flore du Vaucluse": "A virtuous man whose
+recent loss we shall all deplore joined his efforts to mine in this
+undertaking." Letter to the Mayor of Avignon, 1st December, 1833,
+communicated by M. Félix Achard.
+
+NOTES TO CHAPTER 5.
+
+5/1. "Chimie agricole."
+
+5/2. "Le Ciel." Lectures et Leçons pour tous.
+
+5/3. "La Terre." Lectures et Leçons pour tous.
+
+5/4. "La Chimie de l'oncle Paul." Lectures courantes pour toutes les
+écoles.
+
+5/5. "Histoire de la bûche."
+
+5/6. "Les jouets. Le Toton" (manuscript).
+The primitive fountain, the "antique appliance" transmitted by inheritance,
+"the invention perhaps of some little unemployed herd-boy," consisted
+originally of three apertures and three straws; two similar apertures on
+one side, with two short straws, which dipped into the water, and a single
+orifice on the other side for the longer straw which delivered the water.
+Happening one day to use only two straws, one on each side, the little
+Fabre perceived that the device worked just as well, and "so, quite
+unconsciously, without thinking of it, I discovered the syphon, the true
+syphon of the physicist." Loco cit.
+
+5/7. "The chemistry course is a great success at home." To his brother,
+from Orange, 1875.
+
+5/8. To his son Émile, 4th November, 1879.
+"The household; discussions as to domestic economy for use in girls'
+schools."
+
+5/9. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 2nd series, chapter 1.
+
+5/10. To the Mayor of Avignon, 1st December, 1873. Communicated by M. Félix
+Achard.
+
+5/11. Letter to his brother, 1875.
+
+5/12. Id.
+
+NOTES TO CHAPTER 6.
+
+6/1. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 2nd series, chapter 1. "L'Harmas."
+
+6/2. Id., 6th series, chapter 5.
+
+6/3. The Lumbricus phosporeus of Dugés. Fabre had already clearly perceived
+that this curious phenomenon of phosphorescence appears at birth, and he
+saw in it a process of oxidation, a species of respiration, especially
+active in certain tissues.
+Letter to Léon Dufour, 1st February, 1857. Communicated by M. Félix Achard.
+
+6/4. To his brother, from Carpentras, 15th August, 1846.
+
+6/5. He died at the age of 96.
+
+6/6. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 1st series, chapter 21.
+
+6/7. To his son Émile, 4th November, 1879.
+
+6/8. To Henry Devillario, 30th March, 1883.
+
+6/9. Id., 17th December, 1888.
+
+NOTES TO CHAPTER 7.
+
+7/1. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 8th series, chapter 12.
+
+7/2. Id., 7th series, chapter 16.
+
+7/3. Id., 1st series, chapter 4.
+
+7/4. Id., 2nd series, chapter 3.
+
+7/5. Id., 6th series, chapter 21.
+
+7/6. Id., 1st series, chapter 19, and 2nd series, chapter 7.
+
+7/7. Id., 7th series, chapter 23.
+
+7/8. Maeterlinck, "The Bee."
+
+7/9. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 7th series, chapter 2.
+
+7/10. Id., 8th series, chapter 22.
+
+7/11. Id., 6th series, chapter 6.
+
+7/12. Id., 9th series, chapter 10.
+
+7/13. Bergson, "l'Evolution créatrice."
+
+7/14. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 10th series, chapter 6.
+
+7/15. "Les Serviteurs" and "Les Auxiliaires."
+
+7/16. François Raspail, born at Carpentras in 1794, was also a professor at
+the college of Carpentras.
+
+7/17. To his brother, 3rd September, 1848.
+The improvement did not last long; the child died finally a short time
+afterwards.
+
+7/18. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 10th series, chapter 21.
+
+7/19. Ed. Perrier. Private letter, 27th October, 1909.
+"He is the finest of all our observers, and all scientists should bow to
+the facts which he excels in discovering."
+
+7/20. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 6th series, chapter 25.
+
+7/21. Id., 10th series, chapter 16.
+
+7/22. Id., 10th series, chapter 20.
+
+7/23. Manuscripts, unpublished observations.
+
+7/24. A common spectacle in Provence, but one which Fabre never wearied of
+seeing.
+
+7/25. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 6th series, chapter 17.
+
+7/26. We know that the great naturalist was far from being charmed by the
+song of the nightingale.
+
+7/27. Manuscripts, unpublished observation. These remarks deal with the
+solar eclipse of 28th May, 1900.
+
+7/28. Among the insects which he has observed there are many which are not
+always sufficiently characterized. "Insectes coléoptères observes aux
+environs d'Avignon." Avignon, pub. Seguin, 1870.
+
+7/29. Coleoptera observed in the neighbourhood of Avignon. A catalogue now
+very scarce, a copy of which I owe to the kindness of Dr. Chobaut, of
+Avignon.
+
+7/30. Nomina si nescis, perit et cognitio rerum.
+
+7/31. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 4th series, chapter 11.
+
+7/32. Id., 9th series, chapter 19.
+
+7/33. Id., 1st series, chapter 9.
+
+7/34. "Jenner's Legend of the isolation of the young Cuckoo in the nest,"
+by Xavier Raspail, "Bull. de la Soc. Zool. de France," 1903.
+
+7/35. "Souvenirs entomologiques" 1st series, passim.
+
+7/36. Id., 4th series, chapter 14.
+
+7/37. Id., 1st series, chapter 7.
+
+7/38. Id., 2nd series, chapter 2.
+
+NOTES TO CHAPTER 8.
+
+8/1. "Souvenirs entomologiques" 1st series, chapter 2.
+
+8/2. Bergson, "l'Evolution créatrice."
+
+8/3. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 2nd series, chapter 4.
+
+8/4. Id., 5th series, chapter 8.
+
+8/5. Id., 9th series, chapter 3.
+
+8/6. Id., 1st series, chapter 22.
+
+8/7. Id., 4th series, chapter 3.
+
+8/8. Id., 4th series, chapter 3.
+
+8/9. Id., 4th and 1st series, chapter 19.
+
+8/10. Id., 9th series, chapter 24.
+
+8/11. Id., 10th series, chapter 5.
+
+8/12. Id., 4th series, chapter 6.
+
+8/13. Id., 9th series, chapter 16.
+
+8/14. Id., 2nd series, chapter 5.
+
+8/15. Id., 5th series, chapter 7.
+
+8/16. Id., 6th series, chapter 8.
+
+8/17. Id., 3rd series, chapters 17, 18, 19 and 20.
+
+8/18. Id., 2nd series, chapter 15.
+
+8/19. Id., 3rd series, chapter 11.
+
+8/20. Emerson.
+
+8/21. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 4th series, chapter 9.
+
+8/22. Unpublished observations.
+
+8/23. "Mireille," 3rd canto.
+
+NOTES TO CHAPTER 9.
+
+9/1. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 8th series, chapter 21.
+
+9/2. "Les Ravageurs," chapter 34, agriculture.
+
+9/3. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 10th series, chapter 12.
+
+9/4. Id., 1st series, chapter 2, and 10th series, chapter 13.
+
+9/5. Id., 2nd series, chapter 17.
+
+9/6. Id., 7th series, chapter 20.
+
+9/7. Id., 2nd series, chapter 4.
+
+9/8. At novitas mundi nec frigora dura ciebat,
+Nec nimios aestus.
+Lucretius, "De Natura rerum."
+
+9/9. In this connection see the excellent introduction written by M. Edmond
+Perrier to serve as preface to the work of M. de Romanes: "l'Intelligence
+des animaux."
+
+9/10. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 8th series, chapter 20.
+
+9/11. To Henry Devillario, 30th March, 1883.
+
+9/12. To Henry Devillario, 12th May, 1883.
+
+9/13. To his brother, 1900.
+
+9/14. Letters to his brother.
+"I am not sulking; far from it...I have no lack of ink and paper; I am too
+careful of them to lack them; but I do lack time...So you still think I am
+sulking because I do not reply! But imagine, my dear and petulant brother,
+that for several weeks I have been pursuing, with unequalled persistence,
+some abominable conic problems proposed at the fellowship examination, and
+once I have mounted my hobby-horse, good-bye to letters, good-bye to
+replies, goodbye to everything." (Carpentras, 27th November, 1848.)
+"You are right, seven times right to storm at me, to grumble at my silence,
+and I admit, in all contrition, that I am the worst correspondent you could
+find. To force myself to write a letter is to place myself on the rack, as
+well you know...But why do you get it into your head, why do you tell me,
+that I disdain you, that I forget you, that I ignore you, you, my best
+friend?...For my silence blame only the multiplicity of tasks, which often
+surpasses, not my courage, but my strength and my time." (Ajaccio, 1st
+June, 1851.)
+
+9/15. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 10th series, chapter 8.
+
+9/16. Id., 9th series, chapter 2.
+
+NOTES TO CHAPTER 10.
+
+10/1. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 1st series, chapter 21.
+
+10/2. Id., 9th series, chapter 2.
+
+10/3. Id., 10th series, chapter 4.
+
+10/4. Montaigne's Essays.
+
+10/5. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 8th series, chapter 17.
+
+10/6. "Les Ravageurs."
+
+10/7. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 10th series, chapter 18, and "Merveilles
+de l'instinct: la Chenille du chou."
+
+10/8. Id., 8th series, chapter 17.
+
+NOTES TO CHAPTER 11.
+
+11/1. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 3rd series, chapter 8.
+
+11/2. Id., 2nd series, chapter 14 et seq.
+
+11/3. Id., 6th series, chapter 9.
+
+11/4. Id., 5th series, chapter 19.
+
+11/5. Tolstoy: "All that the human heart contains of evil should disappear
+at the contact of nature, that most immediate expression of the beautiful
+and the good." ("The Invaders.")
+
+11/6. The "Livre d'histoires" and "Chimie agricole."
+
+11/7. "Oubreto Provençalo. La Bise."
+
+11/8. Id., "Le Semeur."
+
+11/9. Id., "Le Crapaud."
+
+NOTES TO CHAPTER 12.
+
+12/1. "Oubreto Provençalo. Le Maréchal."
+
+12/2. "Oubreto Provençalo."
+
+12/3. In this connection see the admirable passage in Sainte-Beuve's "Port-
+Royal," Book 2, chapter 14.
+
+12/4. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 4th series, chapter 1.
+
+12/5. Id., 1st series, chapter 17.
+
+12/6. Id., 7th series, chapter 8.
+
+12/7. Id., 7th series, chapter 10.
+
+12/8. Id., 8th series, chapter 8.
+
+12/9. Id., 8th series, chapter 20.
+
+12/10. Id., 6th series, chapter 14.
+
+12/11. Id., 8th series, chapter 18.
+
+12/12. Id., 10th series, chapter 8.
+
+12/13. Id., 10th series, chapter 6.
+
+12/14. Id., 5th series, chapter 22.
+
+NOTES TO CHAPTER 13.
+
+13/1. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 10th series, chapter 17.
+
+13/2. Id., 9th series, chapter 4, "l'Exode des arignées" (the Exodus of the
+Spiders), and chapter 5, "l'Araignée crabe" (the Crab Spider).
+
+13/3. Id., 5th series, chapter 17.
+
+13/4. Id., 3rd series, chapter 8.
+
+13/5. Id., 6th series, chapter 14.
+"Oubreto. Le Grillon," and unpublished verses.
+
+13/6. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 2nd series, chapter 16.
+
+13/7. Id., 9th series, chapter 21.
+
+13/8. "Les Merveilles de l'instinct: le Ver luisant" (Marvels of Instinct:
+the Glow-worm).
+
+13/9. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 2nd series, chapter 12.
+
+13/10. Id., 8th series, chapter 22, and 9th series, chapter 11.
+
+13/11. Id., 5th series, chapter 18.
+
+NOTES TO CHAPTER 14.
+
+14/1. Grandjean de Fouchy: eulogy of Réaumur, in "Recueils de l'Acad.des
+sciences," volume 157 H, page 201, and Preface to the "Lettres inédites de
+Réaumur," by G. Musset.
+
+14/2. "Mémoires," passim, and volume 2, 1st mémoire.
+
+14/3. Id., volume 3, 3rd mémoire.
+
+14/4. Id., volume 2, 1st mémoire.
+Ch. Tellier, "Le Frigorifique" (Refrigeration), story of a modern
+invention, chapter 23; cold applied to the animal kingdom.
+
+14/5. Léon Dufour: "Journal de sa vie."
+Souvenirs and impressions of travel in the Pyrenees to Gavarnie, Héas, the
+"Montagnes maudites," etc. Entomological excursions on the dunes of
+Biscarosse and Arcachon.
+
+14/6. Id., direction of entomological studies.
+
+14/7. "Souvenirs entomologiques" 2nd series, chapter 1: "L'Harmas."
+
+14/8. Id., 5th series, chapter 11.
+
+NOTES TO CHAPTER 15.
+
+15/1. Louis Charrasse, private letter, 20th February, 1912, and "Le Bassin
+du Rhône," March, 1911.
+
+15/2. "Oubreto. Le Crapaud."
+
+15/3. It was only in the afternoon that he devoted himself, when needful,
+to microscopic researches, on account of the better inclination of the
+light.
+
+15/4. He lost it at the end of last spring.
+
+15/5. "Les Serviteurs. Le Canard."
+
+15/6. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 1st series, chapter 13: an ascent of Mont
+Ventoux.
+
+15/7. The name given to Christmas in Provence.
+
+15/8. Louis Charrasse, private letters.
+
+15/9. Id.
+
+15/10. 1888-1892.
+
+15/11. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 2nd series, chapter 2.
+
+15/12. Louis Charrasse, private letter.
+
+15/13. Letter to his nephew, Antonin Fabre, 4th January, 1885.
+
+15/14. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 6th series, chapter 19.
+
+15/15. Id., 6th series, chapter 2.
+
+15/16. Id., 6th series, chapter 11.
+
+15/17. Conversations.
+
+NOTES TO CHAPTER 16.
+
+16/1. Letter to his brother, 4th February, 1900.
+
+16/2. To his brother, 18th July, 1908. At this time the eighth volume of
+his "Souvenirs" had just appeared, and the ninth was in hand.
+
+16/3. Id.
+
+16/4. "Chimie agricole."
+
+16/5. To his brother, 10th October, 1898.
+
+16/6. Private letter, 30th March, 1908.
+
+16/7. Id.
+
+16/8. Id.
+
+16/9. Unpublished experiments.
+
+16/10. To Charles Delagrave, 27th January, 1899.
+
+16/11. To his brother, 4th February, 1900.
+
+16/12. This prize was awarded to Fabre in 1899. The amount of the prize is
+400 pounds sterling. It is one of the chief prizes of the Institute.
+
+16/13. Edmond Rostand. Private letter, 7th April, 1910: "His books have
+been my delight during a very long convalescence."
+
+16/14. This magnificent atlas, the gem of Fabre's collections, comprises
+nearly 700 plates, and a large body of explanatory and descriptive matter.
+
+16/15. To Charles Delagrave, undated.
+
+16/16. Maeterlinck. Private letter, 17th November, 1909.
+"Les 4 Chemins,
+"Grasse (Alpes-Maritimes).
+"You overwhelm me with pleasure and do me the greatest honour in allowing
+my name to be inscribed among those of the committee which proposes to
+celebrate the jubilee of Henri Fabre...Henri Fabre is, indeed, one of the
+chiefest and purest glories that the civilized world at present possesses;
+one of the most learned naturalists and the most wonderful of poets in the
+modern and truly legitimate sense of the word. I cannot tell you how
+delighted I am by the chance you offer me of expressing in this way one of
+the profoundest admirations of my life."
+
+16/17. J. Belleudy, prefect of Vaucluse. Private letter, 29th September,
+1909.
+"It pains me to see so great a mind, so eminent a scientist, such a master
+of French literature, so little known. Two years ago, when the Gegner prize
+was awarded to him, I felt that I must speak of him to certain of those
+about me; and they had hardly heard his name!"
+
+16/18. Letter to Frédéric Mistral, 4th July, 1908.
+
+16/19. Council General of Vaucluse, session of August, 1908. The words of
+the recorder, M. Lacour, mayor of Orange, to-day deputy for Vaucluse, a
+personal friend and ardent admirer of the old master.
+
+16/20. Edmond Rostand. Private letter, 20th November, 1909.
+"I am, sir, not only greatly touched, but also and above all delighted that
+you have thought of including me among the friends who wish to fete Henri
+Fabre. Thanks for having considered that my name would assist your
+undertaking. The "Souvenirs entomologiques" have long ago made me intimate
+with his charming, profound, and moving genius. I owe them an infinity of
+delightful hours. Perhaps also I ought to thank them for having encouraged
+one of my sons to pursue the vocation which he entered. If, in order to
+honour Henri Fabre, you run the pious risk of disturbing, for a moment, the
+studious retreat in which, for so many years, he has pursued his life and
+his work, it is an act of justice toward this great scientist, who thinks
+as a philosopher, sees as an artist, and feels and expresses himself as a
+poet."
+Romain Rolland. Private letter, 7th January, 1910.
+"You cannot imagine what pleasure you have given me by requesting me to
+associate myself in the glorification of J.H. Fabre. He is one of the
+Frenchmen whom I most admire. The impassioned patience of his ingenious
+observations delights me as much as the masterpieces of art. For years I
+have read and loved his books. During my last holidays, of three volumes
+that I travelled with two were volumes of his "Souvenirs entomologiques."
+You will honour me and delight me by counting me as one of you."
+
+16/21. Edmond Rostand. Telegram.
+
+16/22. Romain Rolland.
+
+
+INDEX.
+
+Achard, M.
+
+Agaricus, luminosity of.
+
+"Agricultural Chemistry."
+
+Ajaccio, Fabre at.
+
+Ammophila.
+
+Anthidium.
+
+Anthophora.
+
+Anthrax.
+
+Arachne clotho.
+
+Arachnoids, cannibalism of.
+
+Audubon.
+
+Avignon, Fabre at.
+suggested agronomic station at.
+
+Balaninus.
+
+Balzac.
+
+Bees.
+
+Belleudy, M.
+
+Bembex.
+
+Bergson.
+
+Bernard, Claude.
+
+Blanchard.
+
+Blue fly.
+
+Bombyx.
+
+Bordone.
+
+Bossuet.
+
+Bourdon.
+
+Buffon.
+
+Buprestis.
+
+Calendal.
+
+Calendar-beetle.
+
+Calosoma sycophanta.
+
+Candolle, de.
+
+Cannibalism.
+
+Cantharides.
+
+Cantharis, courtship of.
+
+Capricornis.
+
+Carabidae.
+
+Carpentras.
+fauna of.
+
+Caterpillars, poisonous.
+
+Centipedes.
+
+Cerceris.
+
+Chalcidia.
+
+Chalicodoma.
+
+Charrasse, Louis.
+
+Chermes.
+
+Cicada (Cigale).
+
+Cicadelina.
+
+Cicindela.
+
+Cione.
+
+Clathrix.
+
+Clythris.
+
+Clytus.
+
+Cleona opthalmica.
+
+Coincidence in life of parasites.
+
+Coleoptera of Avignon.
+
+Conchology, Fabre studies.
+
+Copris.
+
+Corsica.
+
+Courrier.
+
+Crickets, courtship of.
+
+Crioceris.
+
+Cuckoo.
+
+Curves, properties of.
+
+Darwin, Charles, Fabre an opponent of.
+praises Fabre.
+corresponds with Fabre.
+
+Darwin, Erasmus.
+
+Decticus.
+
+Delagrave, Charles.
+
+Dermestes.
+
+Devillario, Henry.
+
+Dorthesia.
+
+Dufour, Léon.
+
+Dumas.
+
+Dung-beetles.
+
+Duruy, Victor.
+sends for Fabre to attend Court.
+fall of.
+
+Dyticus.
+
+"Earth, The."
+
+Eclipse of sun.
+
+Education in France.
+
+Ephippigera.
+
+Epeïra.
+
+Emerson.
+
+Empusa.
+
+Ergatus.
+
+Eucera.
+
+Eumenes.
+
+Evil.
+
+Evolution.
+
+Fabre, Aglaë.
+
+Fabre, Antoine.
+
+Fabre, Antonia.
+
+Fabre, Antonin.
+
+Fabre, Émile.
+
+Fabre, Frédéric.
+
+Fabre, Henri.
+birthplace.
+childhood.
+boyhood.
+school days.
+a primary teacher.
+marriage and loss of first child.
+professor of physics at Ajaccio.
+professor at Avignon.
+takes up entomology.
+salary.
+poverty.
+as teacher.
+character.
+his pupils.
+goes to Court and is decorated.
+writes textbooks for schools.
+portraits of.
+meets J.S. Mill.
+denounced for subversive teaching.
+evicted.
+settles at Orange, money difficulties solved by Mill.
+breaks with the University.
+continues his series of textbooks.
+repays Mill money lent.
+dismissed from Requien Museum.
+researches concerning madder.
+leaves Orange.
+work at Sérignan.
+second marriage.
+his workshop.
+methods of work.
+attitude toward evolution.
+corresponds with Darwin.
+ideas as to origin of species.
+methods of work.
+compared with Réaumur.
+life at Sérignan.
+love of music.
+old age.
+poverty.
+jubilee celebrated.
+
+Fabre, Henri, of Avignon.
+
+Fabre, Jules.
+
+Fabre, Paul.
+
+Fabre, Mme (mother of Henri).
+
+Fabre, Mme (1st wife).
+
+Fabre, Mme (2nd wife).
+
+Fabre, Mme Antoine.
+
+Favier.
+
+Female education.
+
+Frog, bellringer.
+
+Gadfly.
+
+Gegner prize.
+
+Geometry, Fabre's love of.
+
+Geotrupes.
+
+Glow-worm.
+
+Goat caterpillar.
+
+Goethe.
+
+Grasshopper.
+
+Halictus.
+
+Harmas, the.
+
+Heat, takes place of food.
+
+Helix raspaillii.
+
+Hemerobius, curious garment of.
+
+Horace.
+
+Horn-beetle.
+
+Horus Apollo.
+
+Huber.
+
+Hugo, Victor.
+
+Hyper-metamorphism.
+
+Instinct.
+
+Intelligence, function of.
+
+Janin, Jules.
+
+Jullian.
+
+Jussieu, de.
+
+La Fontaine.
+
+Lamarck.
+
+Lapalud.
+
+Latreille.
+
+Larra.
+
+Leibnitz.
+
+Leucopsis.
+
+Libellula.
+
+Linnaeus.
+
+Locust.
+
+"Log, Story of the."
+
+Lycosa.
+
+Madder, Fabre's researches concerning.
+
+Magendie.
+
+Malaval.
+
+Mantis.
+
+Maquis, the Corsican.
+
+Marius.
+
+Mason-bee.
+
+Medicine, Fabre's inclination toward.
+
+Megachile.
+
+Meloë.
+
+Michelet.
+
+Mill, J.S.
+helps Fabre in difficulties.
+death of.
+
+Mill, Mrs.
+
+Millipedes.
+
+Mimicry.
+
+Mind, of animals.
+
+Minotaurus.
+
+Mistral.
+corresponds with Fabre.
+
+Mitscherlich.
+
+Montyon prize.
+
+Moquin-Tandon.
+
+Mushrooms, recipe for cooking.
+
+Napoleon III.
+
+Necrophorus.
+
+Number, properties of.
+poem.
+
+Odynerus.
+
+Oniticella.
+
+Onthophagus.
+
+Orange, Fabre at.
+
+Orchids, Fabre on.
+
+"Origin of Species."
+
+Orthoptera, primitive.
+
+Osmia, control of sex.
+courtship of.
+
+Pasteur.
+
+Peacock moth.
+
+Pelopaeus.
+
+Perrier, Ed.
+
+Philanthus.
+
+Phryganea.
+
+Pieris.
+
+"Plant, The."
+
+Pliny.
+
+Poems, Fabre's.
+
+Polygons, properties of.
+
+Pompilus.
+
+Potato.
+
+Processional caterpillar.
+
+Psyche.
+
+Rabelais.
+
+Raspail.
+
+Racine.
+
+Réaumur.
+compared with Fabre.
+
+Requien of Avignon.
+
+Requien Museum.
+
+Rhynchites.
+
+Ricard, Pierre, schoolmaster.
+
+Rose-beetle.
+
+Roumanille.
+
+Saint-Léons.
+
+Saprinidae.
+
+Sarcophagus.
+
+Scarabaeus sacer.
+
+Scolia.
+
+Scolopendra.
+
+Scorpion.
+
+Sérignan.
+Fabre settles at.
+evenings at.
+
+Sicard's portraits of Fabre.
+
+Silkworm moth.
+
+Sisyphus.
+
+Sitaris.
+
+"Sky, The."
+
+"Souvenirs entomologiques."
+
+Spaeriaceae.
+
+Sphex.
+
+Spiders, aeronautic.
+
+Sport, Fabre's love of.
+
+Staphylinus.
+
+Tachina.
+
+Tachinarius.
+
+Tachytes.
+
+Tarantula.
+
+Taylor, Harriett (Mrs. J.S. Mill).
+
+Taylor, Miss.
+
+Terebinth louse.
+
+Theophrastus.
+
+Thomisus.
+
+Tolstoy.
+
+Toussenel.
+
+Trox.
+
+Vanessa.
+
+"Vaucluse, Flora of the."
+
+Vaucluse, General Council of, grants Fabre a pension.
+
+Vayssières, M.
+
+Ventoux Alp.
+banquet on the.
+
+Vezins.
+
+Villard, Marie (Mme Henri Fabre).
+
+Virgil.
+
+Volucella.
+
+Wasps' nest in winter.
+
+Weevils, sloe.
+poplar.
+acorn and poplar.
+
+Woodland bug.
+
+Xylocopa.
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 3489 ***
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+<head>
+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8">
+<title>Poet of Science | Project Gutenberg</title>
+
+<style type="text/css">
+
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+<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 3489 ***</div>
+
+<h1 align="center">FABRE, POET OF SCIENCE</h1>
+<h1 align="center">BY</h1>
+<h1 align="center">DR. G.-V. LEGROS.</h1>
+
+<h2 align="center">&quot;De fimo ad excelsa.&quot;<br>
+ J.-H. Fabre.</h2>
+<h1 align="center">&nbsp;</h1>
+<h3 align="center">WITH A PREFACE BY JEAN-HENRI FABRE.</h3>
+<h3 align="center">TRANSLATED BY BERNARD MIALL.</h3>
+<h3 align="center">T. FISHER UNWIN</h3>
+<h3 align="center">LONDON: ADELPHI TERRACE</h3>
+<h3 align="center">LEIPSIC: INSELSTRASSE 20.</h3>
+<h3 align="center">FIRST PUBLISHED 1913.</h3>
+
+<h2><a name="PREF">PREFACE.</A></h2>
+
+<p>
+The good friend who has so successfully terminated the task which he felt a vocation
+to undertake thought it would be of advantage to complete it by presenting to
+the reader a picture both of my life as a whole and of the work which it has
+been given me to accomplish.</p>
+
+<p>
+The better to accomplish his undertaking, he abstracted from my correspondence, as
+well as from the long conversations which we have so often enjoyed together, a
+great number of those memories of varying importance which serve as landmarks
+in life; above all in a life like mine, not exempt from many cares, yet not
+very fruitful in incidents or great vicissitudes, since it has been passed very
+largely, in especial during the last thirty years, in the most absolute
+retirement and the completest silence.</p>
+
+<p>
+Moreover, it was not unimportant to warn the public against the errors, exaggerations,
+and legends which have collected about my person, and thus to set all things in
+their true light.</p>
+
+<p>
+In undertaking this task my devoted disciple has to some extent been able to
+replace those &quot;Memoirs&quot; which he suggested that I should write, and
+which only my bad health has prevented me from undertaking; for I feel that
+henceforth I am done with wide horizons and &quot;far-reaching thoughts.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+And yet on reading now the old letters which he has exhumed from a mass of old
+yellow papers, and which he has presented and co-ordinated with so pious a
+care, it seems to me that in the depths of my being I can still feel rising in
+me all the fever of my early years, all the enthusiasm of long ago, and that I
+should still be no less ardent a worker were not the weakness of my eyes and
+the failure of my strength to&#8209;day an insurmountable obstacle.</p>
+
+<p>
+Thoroughly grasping the fact that one cannot write a biography without entering into the
+sphere of those ideas which alone make a life interesting, he has revived
+around me that world which I have so long contemplated, and summarized in a
+striking epitome, and as a strict interpreter, my methods (which are, as will
+be seen, within the reach of all), my ideas, and the whole body of my works and
+discoveries; and despite the obvious difficulty which such an attempt would
+appear to present, he has succeeded most wonderfully in achieving the most
+lucid, complete, and vital exposition of these matters that I could possibly
+have wished.</p>
+
+<p>
+Jean-Henri Fabre.<br>
+Sérignan, Vaucluse, <br>
+November 12, 1911. </p>
+
+<h2>CONTENTS.</h2>
+<h3><a href="#PREF">PREFACE.</a></h3>
+<h3><a href="#INTR">INTRODUCTION.</a></h3>
+<h3><a href="#CHAP01">CHAPTER 1.</a> THE INTUITION OF NATURE.</h3>
+<h3><a href="#CHAP02">CHAPTER 2.</a> THE PRIMARY TEACHER.</h3>
+<h3><a href="#CHAP03">CHAPTER 3.</a> CORSICA.</h3>
+<h3><a href="#CHAP04">CHAPTER 4.</a> AT AVIGNON.</h3>
+<h3><a href="#CHAP05">CHAPTER 5.</a> A GREAT TEACHER.</h3>
+<h3><a href="#CHAP06">CHAPTER 6.</a> THE HERMITAGE.</h3>
+<h3><a href="#CHAP07">CHAPTER 7.</a> THE INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.</h3>
+<h3><a href="#CHAP08">CHAPTER 8.</a> THE MIRACLE OF INSTINCT.</h3>
+<h3><a href="#CHAP09">CHAPTER 9.</a> EVOLUTION OR &quot;TRANSFORMISM.&quot;</h3>
+<h3><a href="#CHAP10">CHAPTER 10.</a> THE ANIMAL MIND.</h3>
+<h3><a href="#CHAP11">CHAPTER 11.</a> HARMONIES AND DISCORDS.</h3>
+<h3><a href="#CHAP12">CHAPTER 12.</a> THE TRANSLATION OF NATURE.</h3>
+<h3><a href="#CHAP13">CHAPTER 13.</a> THE EPIC OF ANIMAL LIFE.</h3>
+<h3><a href="#CHAP14">CHAPTER 14.</a> PARALLEL LIVES.</h3>
+<h3><a href="#CHAP15">CHAPTER 15.</a> THE EVENINGS AT SÉRIGNAN.</h3>
+<h3><a href="#CHAP16">CHAPTER 16.</a> TWILIGHT.</h3>
+<h3><a href="#CHAP17">NOTES.</a></h3>
+<h3><a href="#CHAP18">INDEX.</a></h3>
+
+<h2><a name="INTR">INTRODUCTION.</a></h2>
+
+<p>
+Here I offer to the public the life of Jean-Henri Fabre; at once an admiring
+commentary upon his work and an act of pious homage, such as ought to be offered,
+while he lives, to the great naturalist who is even to&#8209;day so little
+known.</p>
+
+<p>
+Hitherto it was not easy to speak of Henri Fabre with exactitude. An enemy to all
+advertisement, he has so discreetly held himself withdrawn that one might
+almost say that he has encouraged, by his silence, many doubtful or unfounded
+rumours, which in course of time would become even more incorrect.</p>
+
+<p>
+For example, although quite recently his material situation was presented in the
+gloomiest of lights, while it had really for some time ceased to be precarious,
+it is none the less true that during his whole life he has had to labour
+prodigiously in order to earn a little money to feed and rear his family, to
+the great detriment of his scientific inquiries; and we cannot but regret that
+he was not freed from all material cares at least twenty years earlier than was
+the case.</p>
+
+<p>
+But he was not one to speak of his troubles to the first comer; and it was only
+after the sixth volume of the &quot;Souvenirs entomologiques&quot; had appeared
+that his reserve was somewhat mitigated. Yet it was necessary that he should
+speak of these troubles, that he should tell everything; and, thanks to his
+conversation and his letters, I have been able to revive the past.</p>
+
+<p>
+Among the greatest of my pleasures I count the notable honour of having known him,
+and intimately. As an absorbed and attentive witness I was present at the
+accomplishment of his last labours; I watched his last years of work, so
+critical, so touching, so forsaken, before his ultimate resurrection. What
+fruitful and suggestive lessons I learned in his company, as we paced the
+winding paths of his Harmas; or while I sat beside him, at his patriarchal
+table, interrogating that memory of his, so rich in remembrances that even the
+remotest events of his life were as near to him as those that had only then
+befallen him; so that the majority of the judgments to be found in this book,
+of which not a line has been written without his approval, may be regarded as
+the direct emanation of his mind.</p>
+
+<p>
+As far as possible I have allowed him to speak himself. Has he not sketched the
+finest pages of his &quot;biography of a solitary student&quot; in those racy
+chapters of his &quot;Souvenirs&quot;: those in which he has developed his
+genesis as a naturalist and the history of the evolution of his ideas?
+<a href="#Intro-1">(Introduction/1.)</a> In all cases I have only introduced such indications as were
+essential to complete the sequence of events. It would have been idle to
+re-tell in the same terms what every one may read elsewhere, or to repeat in
+different and less happy terms what Fabre himself has told so well.</p>
+
+<p>
+I have therefore applied myself more especially to filling the gaps which he has
+left, by listening to his conversation, by appealing to his memories, by
+questioning his contemporaries, by recording the impressions of his sometime
+pupils. I have endeavoured to assemble all these data, in order to authenticate
+them, and have also gleaned many facts among his manuscripts <a href="#Intro-2">(Introduction/2.)</a>,
+and have had recourse to all that portion of his correspondence which
+fortunately fell into my hands.</p>
+
+<p>
+This correspondence, to be truthful, does not appear at any time to have been very
+assiduous. Fabre, as we shall see in the story of his life <a href="#Intro-3">(Introduction/3.),</a>
+disliked writing letters, both in his studious youth and during the later
+period of isolation and silence.</p>
+
+<p>
+On the other hand, although he wrote but little, he never wrote with difficulty or
+as a mere matter of duty. Among all the letters which I have succeeded in
+collecting there are scarcely any that are not of interest from one point of
+view or another. No frivolous narratives, no futile acquaintances, no
+commonplace intimacies; everything in his life is serious, and everything makes
+for a goal.</p>
+
+<p>
+But we must set apart, as surpassing all others in interest, the letters which
+Fabre addressed to his brother during the years spent as schoolmaster at
+Carpentras or Ajaccio; for these are more especially instructive in respect of
+the almost unknown years of his youth; these most of all reveal his personality
+and are one of the finest illustrations that could be given of his life, a true
+poem of energy and disinterested labour.</p>
+
+<p>
+I have to thank M. Frédéric Fabre, who, in his fraternal piety, has generously
+placed all his family records at my disposal, and also his two sons, my dear
+friends Antonin Fabre, councillor at the Court of Nîmes, and Henri Fabre, of
+Avignon, for these precious documents; and I take this opportunity of
+expressing my profound gratitude.</p>
+
+<p>
+Let me at the same time thank all those who have associated themselves with my
+efforts by supplying me with letters in their possession and furnishing me with
+personal information; and in particular Mme Henry Devillario, M. Achard, and M.
+J. Belleudy, ex-prefect of Vaucluse; not forgetting M. Louis Charrasse, teacher
+at Beaumont-d'Orange, and M. Vayssières, professor of the Faculty of Sciences
+at Marseilles, all of whom I have to thank for personal and intimate
+information.</p>
+
+<p>
+I must also express my gratitude to M. Henri Bergson, Professor Bouvier, and the
+learned M. Paul Marchal for the advice and the valuable suggestions which they
+offered me during the preparation of this book.</p>
+
+<p>
+I shall feel fully repaid for my pains if this &quot;Life&quot; of one of
+the greatest of the world's naturalists, by enabling men to know him better,
+also leads them to love him the more.</p>
+
+<h2 align="center">FABRE, POET OF SCIENCE.</h2>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAP01">CHAPTER 1. THE INTUITION OF NATURE.</a></h2>
+
+<p>
+Each thing created, says Emerson, has its painter or its poet. Like the enchanted
+princess of the fairy-tales, it awaits its predestined liberator.</p>
+
+<p>
+Every part of nature has its mystery and its beauty, its logic and its explanation;
+and the epigraph given me by Fabre himself, which appears on the title-page of
+this volume, is in no way deceptive. The tiny insects buried in the soil or
+creeping over leaf or blade have for him been sufficient to evoke the most
+important, the most fascinating problems, and have revealed a whole world of
+miracle and poetry.</p>
+
+<p>
+He saw the light at Saint-Léons, a little commune of the canton of Vezins in the
+Haut Rouergue, on the 22nd December, 1823, some seven years earlier than
+Mistral, his most famous neighbour, the greater lustre of whose celebrity was
+to eclipse his own.</p>
+
+<p>
+Here he essayed his earliest steps; here he stammered his first syllables.</p>
+
+<p>
+His early childhood, however, was passed almost wholly at Malaval, a tiny hamlet in
+the parish of Lavaysse, whose belfry was visible at quite a short distance; but
+to reach it one had to travel nearly twenty-five rough, mountainous miles,
+through a whole green countryside; green, but bare, and lacking in charm.
+<a href="#C1-1">(1/1.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+All his paternal forebears came from Malaval, and thence one day his father,
+Antoine Fabre, came to dwell at Saint-Léons, as a consequence of his marriage
+with the daughter of the huissier, Victoire Salgues, and in order to prepare
+himself, as working apprentice, in the tricks and quibbles of the law. <a href="#C1-2">(1/2.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+In the roads of Malaval, bordered with brambles, in the glades of bracken, and
+amid the meadows of broom, he received his first impressions of nature. At
+Malaval too lived his grandmother, the good old woman who could lull him to
+sleep at night with beautiful stories and simple legends, while she wound her
+distaff or spun her bobbin.</p>
+
+<p>
+But what were all these imaginary marvels, what were the ogres who smelt fresh meat,
+or &quot;the fairies who turned pumpkins into coaches and lizards into
+footmen&quot; beside all the marvels of reality, which already he was beginning
+to perceive?</p>
+
+<p>
+For above all things he was born a poet: a poet by instinct and by vocation. From
+his earliest childhood, &quot;the brain hardly released from the
+swaddling-bands of unconsciousness,&quot; the things of the outer world left a
+profound and living impression. As far back as he can remember, while still
+quite a child, &quot;a little monkey of six, still dressed in a little baize
+frock,&quot; or just &quot;wearing his first braces,&quot; he sees himself
+&quot;in ecstasy before the splendours of the wing-cases of a gardener-beetle,
+or the wings of a butterfly.&quot; At nightfall, among the bushes, he learned
+to recognize the chirp of the grasshopper. To put it in his own words, &quot;he
+made for the flowers and insects as the Pieris makes for the cabbage and the
+Vanessa makes for the nettle.&quot; The riches of the rocks; the life which
+swarms in the depth of the waters; the world of plants and animals, that
+&quot;prodigious poem; all nature filled him with curiosity and wonder.&quot;
+&quot;A voice charmed him; untranslatable; sweeter than language and vague as a
+dream.&quot; <a href="#C1-3">(1/3.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+These peculiarities are all the more astonishing in that they seem to be absolutely
+spontaneous and in nowise hereditary. What his parents were he himself has told
+us: small farmers, cultivating a little unprofitable land; poor
+&quot;husbandmen, sowers of rye, cowherds&quot;; and in the wretched
+surroundings of his childhood, when the only light, of an evening, came from a
+splinter of pine, steeped in resin, which was held by a strip of slate stuck
+into the wall; when his folk shut themselves in the byre, in times of severe
+cold, to save a little firewood and while away the evenings; when close at
+hand, through the bitter wind, they heard the howling of the wolves: here, it
+would seem, was nothing propitious to the birth of such tastes, if he had not
+borne them naturally within him.</p>
+
+<p>
+But is it not the very essence of genius, as it is the peculiarity of instinct, to
+spring from the depths of the invisible?</p>
+
+<p>
+Yet who shall say what stores of thought unspoken, what unknown treasures of
+observation never to be communicated, what patient reflections unuttered, may
+be housed in those toil-worn brains, in which, perhaps, slowly and obscurely,
+accumulate the germs of faculties and talents by which some more favoured
+descendant may one day benefit? How many poets have died unpublished or
+unperceived, in whom only the power of expression was lacking!</p>
+
+<p>
+When he was seven years old his parents recalled him to Saint-Léons, in order to
+send him to the school kept by his godfather, Pierre Ricard, the village
+schoolmaster, &quot;at once barber, bellringer, and singer in the choir.&quot;
+Rembrandt, Teniers, nor Van Ostade never painted anything more picturesque than
+the room which served at the same time as kitchen, refectory, and bedroom, with
+&quot;halfpenny prints papering the walls&quot; and &quot;a huge chimney, for
+which each had to bring his log of a morning in order to enjoy the right to a
+place at the fireside.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+He was never to forget these beloved places, blessed scenes of his childhood, amid
+which he grew up like a little savage, and through all his material sufferings,
+all his hours of bitterness, and even in the resignation of age, their idyllic
+memory sufficed to make his life fragrant. He would always see the humble
+paternal garden, the brook where he used to surprise the crayfish, the ash-tree
+in which he found his first goldfinch's nest, and &quot;the flat stone on which
+he heard, for the first time, the mellow ringing of the bellringer frog.&quot;
+<a href="#C1-4">(1/4.)</a> Later, when writing to his brother, he was to recall the good days of
+still careless life, when &quot;he would sprawl, the sun on his belly, on the
+mosses of the wood of Vezins, eating his black bread and cream&quot; or
+&quot;ring the bells of Saint-Léons&quot; and &quot;pull the tails of the bulls
+of Lavaysse.&quot; <a href="#C1-5">(1/5.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+For Henri had a brother, Frédéric, barely two years younger than he; equally
+meditative by nature, and of a serious, upright mind; but his tastes inclined
+rather to matters of administration and the understanding of business, so that
+where Frédéric was bored, Henri was more than content, thirstily drinking in
+science and poetry &quot;among the blue campanulas of the hills, the pink
+heather of the mountains, the golden buttercups of the meadows, and the odorous
+bracken of the woods.&quot; <a href="#C1-6">(1/6.)</a> Apart from this the two brothers &quot;were
+one&quot;; they understood one another in a marvellous fashion, and always
+loved one another. Henri never failed to watch over Frédéric with a wholly
+fatherly solicitude; he was prodigal of advice, helpful with his experience,
+doing his best to smooth away all difficulties, encouraging him to walk in his
+footsteps and make his way through the world behind him. He was his confidant,
+giving an ear to all that befell him of good or ill; to his fears, his
+disappointments, his hopes, and all his thoughts; and he took the keenest
+interest in his studies and researches. On the other hand, he had no more sure
+and devoted friend; none more proud of his first success, and in later days no
+more enthusiastic admirer, and none more eager for his fame. <a href="#C1-7">(1/7.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+He was twelve years old when his father, &quot;the first of all his line, was
+tempted by the town,&quot; and led all his family to Rodez, there to keep a
+café. The future naturalist entered the school of this town, where he served
+Mass on Sunday, in the chapel, in order to pay his fees. There again he was
+interested in the animal creation above all. When he began to construe Virgil
+the only thing that charmed him, and which he remembered, was the landscape in
+which the persons of the poem move, in which are so many &quot;exquisite
+details concerning the cicada, the goat, and the laburnum.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus four years went by: but then his parents were constrained to seek their fortune
+elsewhere, and transported their household to Toulouse, where again the father
+kept a café. The young Henri was admitted gratuitously to the seminary of the
+Esquille, where he managed to complete his fifth year. Unfortunately his
+progress was soon interrupted by a new exodus on the part of his family, which
+emigrated this time to Montpellier, where he was haunted for a time by dreams
+of medicine, to which he seemed notably adapted. Finally, a run of bad luck
+persisting, he had to bid farewell to his studies and gain his bread as best he
+could. We see him set out along the wide white roads: lost, almost a wanderer,
+seeking his living by the sweat of his brow; one day selling lemons at the fair
+of Beaucaire, under the arcades of the market or before the barracks of the
+Pré; another day enlisting in a gang of labourers who were working on the line
+from Beaucaire to Nîmes, which was then in process of construction. He knew
+gloomy days, lonely and despairing. What was he doing? of what was he dreaming?
+The love of nature and the passion for learning sustained him in spite of all,
+and often served him as nourishment; as on the day when he dined on a few
+grapes, plucked furtively at the edge of a field, after exchanging the poor
+remnant of his last halfpence for a little volume of Reboul's poems; soothing
+his hunger by reciting the verses of the gentle baker-poet. Often some creature
+kept him company; some insect never seen before was often his greatest
+pleasure; such as the pine-chafer, which he encountered then for the first
+time; that superb beetle, whose black or chestnut coat is sprinkled with specks
+of white velvet; which squeaks when captured, emitting a slight complaining
+sound, like the vibration of a pane of glass rubbed with the tip of a moistened
+finger. <a href="#C1-8">(1/8.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Already this young mind, romantic and classic at once, full of the ideal, and so
+positive that it seemed to seek support in an intense grasp of things and
+beings--two gifts well-nigh incompatible, and often mutually
+destructive--already it knew, not only the love of study and a passion for the
+truth, but the sovereign delight of feeling everything and understanding
+everything.</p>
+
+<p>
+It was under these conditions--that is, amid the rudest privations--that he
+ventured to enter a competitive examination for a bursary at the École Normale
+Primaire of Avignon; and his will-power realized this first miracle of his
+career--he straightway obtained the highest place.</p>
+
+<p>
+In those days, when education had barely reached the lower classes, the
+instruction given in the primary normal school was still of the most summary.
+Spelling, arithmetic, and geometry practically exhausted its resources. As for
+natural history, a poor despised science, almost unknown, no one dreamed of it,
+and no one learned or taught it; the syllabus ignored it, because it led to
+nothing. For Fabre only, notwithstanding, it was his fixed idea, his constant
+preoccupation, and &quot;while the dictation class was busy around him, he
+would examine, in the secrecy of his desk, the sting of a wasp or the fruit of the
+oleander,&quot; and intoxicate himself with poetry. <a href="#C1-9">(1/9.)</a> His pedagogic
+studies suffered thereby, and the first part of his stay at the normal school
+was by no means extremely brilliant. In the middle of his second year he was
+declared idle, and even marked as an insufficient pupil and of mediocre
+intelligence. Stung to the quick, he begged as a favour that he should be given
+the opportunity of following the third year's course in the six months that
+remained, and he made such an effort that at the end of the year he
+victoriously won his superior certificate. <a href="#C1-10">(1/10.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+A year in advance of the regulation studies, his curiosity might now exercise
+itself freely in every direction, and little by little it became universal. A
+chance chemistry lesson finally awakened in him the appetite for knowledge, the
+passion for all the sciences, of which he thirsted to know at least the
+elements. Between whiles he returned to his Latin, translating Horace and
+re-reading Virgil. One day his director put an &quot;Imitation&quot; into his
+hands, with double columns in Greek and Latin. The latter, which he knew fairly
+well, assisted him to decipher the Greek. He hastened to commit to memory the
+vocables, and idioms and phrases of all kinds <a href="#C1-11">(1/11.)</a>, and in this curious
+fashion he learned the language. This was his only method of learning
+languages. It is the process which he recommended to his brother, who was
+commencing Latin: </p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;Take Virgil, a dictionary, and a grammar, and translate from Latin into French for
+ever and for ever; to make a good version you need only common sense and very
+little grammatical knowledge or other pedantic accessories.</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;Imagine an old inscription half-effaced: correctness of judgment partly supplies the
+missing words, and the sense appears as if the whole were legible. Latin, for
+you, is the old inscription; the root of the word alone is legible: the veil of
+an unknown language hides the value of the termination: you have only the half
+of the words; but you have common sense too, and you will make use of it.&quot;
+<a href="#C1-12">(1/12.)</a></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAP02">CHAPTER 2. THE PRIMARY TEACHER.</a></h2>
+
+<p>
+Furnished with his superior diploma, he left the normal school at the age of nineteen,
+and commenced as a primary teacher in the College of Carpentras.</p>
+
+<p>
+The salary of the school teacher, in the year 1842, did not exceed 28 pounds
+sterling a year, and this ungrateful calling barely fed him, save on
+&quot;chickpeas and a little wine.&quot; But we must beware lest, in view of
+the increasing and excessive dearness of living in France, the beggarly
+salaries of the poor schoolmasters of a former day, so little worthy of their
+labours and their social utility, appear even more disproportionately small
+than they actually were. What is more to the point, the teachers had no pension
+to hope for. They could only count on a perpetuity of labour, and when sickness
+or infirmity arrived, when old age surprised them, after fifty or sixty years
+of a narrow and precarious existence, it was not merely poverty that awaited
+them; for many there was nothing but the blackest destitution. A little later,
+when they began to entertain a vague hope of deliverance, the retiring pension
+which was held up to their gaze, in the distant future, was at first no more
+than forty francs, and they had to await the advent of Duruy, the great
+minister and liberator, before primary instruction was in some degree raised
+from this ignominious level of abasement.</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a melancholy place, this college, &quot;where life had something cloistral
+about it: each master occupied two cells, for, in consideration of a modest
+payment, the majority were lodged in the establishment, and ate in common at
+the principal's table.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a laborious life, full of distasteful and repugnant duties. We can readily
+imagine, with the aid of the striking picture which Fabre has drawn for us,
+what life was in these surroundings, and what the teaching was: &quot;Between
+four high walls I see the court, a sort of bear-pit where the scholars
+quarrelled for the space beneath the boughs of a plane-tree; all around opened
+the class-rooms, oozing with damp and melancholy, like so many wild beasts'
+cages, deficient in light and air...for seats, a plank fixed to the wall...in
+the middle a chair, the rushes of the seat departed, a blackboard, and a stick
+of chalk.&quot; <a href="#C2-1">(2/1.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Let the teachers of our spacious and well-lighted schools of to&#8209;day ponder on
+these not so distant years, and measure the progress accomplished. Evoking the
+memory of their humble colleague of Carpentras, may they feel the true
+greatness of his example: a noble and a glorious example, of which they may
+well be proud.</p>
+
+<p>
+And what pupils! &quot;Dirty, unmannerly: fifty young scoundrels, children or big
+lads, with whom,&quot; no doubt, &quot;he used to squabble,&quot; but whom,
+after all, he contrived to manage, and by whom he was listened to and
+respected: for he knew precisely what to say to them, and how, while talking
+lightly, to teach them the most serious things. For the joy of teaching, and of
+continually learning by teaching others, made everything endurable. Not only
+did he teach them to read, write, and cipher, which then included almost the
+entire programme of primary education; he endeavoured also to place his own
+knowledge at their service, as he himself acquired it.</p>
+
+<p>
+It was not only his love of the work that sustained him; it was the desire to
+escape from the rut, to accomplish yet another stage; to emerge, in short, from
+so unsatisfactory a position. Now nothing but physical and mathematical science
+would allow him to entertain the hope of &quot;making an opening&quot; in the
+world of secondary schoolmasters. He accordingly began to study physics, quite
+alone, &quot;with an impossible laboratory, experimenting after his own
+fashion&quot;; and it was by teaching them to his pupils that he learned first
+of all chemistry, inexpensively performing little elementary experiments before
+them, &quot;with pipe-bowls for crucibles and aniseed flasks for retorts,&quot;
+and finally algebra, of which he knew not a word before he gave his first
+lesson. <a href="#C2-2">(2/2.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+How he studied, what was the secret of his method, he told his brother a few years
+later, when the latter, marking time behind him, was pursuing the same career.
+A very disappointing career, no doubt, and far from lucrative, but &quot;one of
+the noblest; one of those best fitted for a noble spirit, and a lover of the
+good.&quot; <a href="#C2-3">(2/3.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Listen to the lesson which he gives his brother: </p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;To&#8209;day is Thursday; nothing calls you out of doors; you choose a thoroughly quiet
+retreat, where the light is not too strong. There you are, elbows on table,
+your thumbs to your ears, and a book in front of you. The intelligence awakes;
+the will holds the reins of it; the outer world disappears, the ear no longer
+hears, the eye no longer sees, the body no longer exists; the mind schools
+itself, recollects itself; it is finding knowledge, and its insight increases.
+Then the hours pass quickly, quickly; time has no measure. Now it is evening.
+What a day, great God! But hosts of truths are grouped in the memory; the
+difficulties which checked you yesterday have fused in the fire of reflection;
+volumes have been devoured, and you are content with your day...</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;When something embarrasses you do not abuse the help of your colleagues; with
+assistance the difficulty is only evaded; with patience and reflection <b><i>it is
+overthrown</i></b>. Moreover, one knows thoroughly only what one learns oneself; and I
+advise you earnestly, as far as possible, to have recourse to no aid other than
+reflection, above all for the sciences. A book of science is an enigma to be
+deciphered; if some one gives you the key of the enigma nothing appears more
+simple and more natural than the explanation, but if a second enigma presents
+itself you will be as unskilful as you were with the first...</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;It is probable that you will get the chance of a few lessons; do not by preference
+accept the easier and more lucrative, but rather the more difficult, even when
+the subject is one of which as yet you know nothing. The self-esteem which will
+not allow one's true character to be seen is a powerful aid to the will. Do not
+forget the method of Jules Janin, running from house to house in Paris for a
+few wretched lessons in Latin: 'Unable to get anything out of my stupid pupils,
+with the besotted son of the marquis I was simultaneously pupil and professor:
+I explained the ancient authors to myself, and so, in a few months, I went
+through an excellent course of rhetoric...'</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;Above all you must not be discouraged; time is nothing provided the will is always
+alert, always active, and never distracted; 'strength will come as you travel.'</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;Try only for a few days this method of working, in which the whole energy,
+concentrated on one point, explodes like a mine and shatters obstacles; try for
+a few days the force of patience, strength, and perseverance; and you will see
+that nothing is impossible!&quot; <a href="#C2-4">(2/4.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+These serious reflections show very clearly that his mind was already as mature, as
+earnest, and as concentrated as it was ever to be.</p>
+
+<p>
+Not only did he join example to precept; he looked about him and began to observe
+nature in her own house. The doings of the Mason-bee, which he encountered for
+the first time, aroused his interest to such a pitch that, being no longer able
+to constrain his curiosity, he bought--at the cost of what
+privations!--Blanchard's &quot;Natural History of the Articulata,&quot; then a
+classic work, which he was to re-read a hundred times, and which he still
+retains, giving it the first place in his modest library, in memory of his
+early joys and emotions.</p>
+
+<p>
+The rocks also arrested and captivated his attention: and already the first volumes
+were corpulent of what was eventually to become his gigantic herbiary. His
+brother, about to leave for Vezins on vacation, was told of the specimens which
+he wanted to complete his collection; for although he had never set foot there
+since his first departure, he recalled, with remarkable precision, all the
+plants that grew in his native countryside; their haunts, their singularities,
+and the characteristics by which one could not fail to recognize them: as well
+as all the places which they chose by preference, where he used to wander as an
+urchin; the Parnassia palustris, &quot;which springs up in the damp meadows,
+below the beech-wood to the west of the village; which bears a superb white
+flower at the top of a slightly twisted stem, having an oval leaf about its
+middle&quot;; the purple digitalis, &quot;whose long spindles of great red
+flowers, speckled with white inside, and shaped like the fingers of a
+glove,&quot; border a certain road; all the ferns that grow on the wastes,
+&quot;amid which it is often no easy task to recollect one's whereabouts,&quot;
+and on the arid hills all the heathers, pink, white, and bluish, with different
+foliage, &quot;of which the innumerable species do not, however, very greatly
+differ.&quot; Nothing is to be neglected; &quot;every plant, whatever it may
+be, great or little, rare or common, were it only a frond of moss, may have its
+interest.&quot; <a href="#C2-5">(2/5.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Never weary of work, he accumulated all these treasures in his little museum, in
+order to study them the better; he collected all the coins exhumed from this
+ancient soil, formerly Roman, &quot;records of humanity more eloquent than
+books,&quot; and which revealed to him the only method of learning and actually
+re-living history: for he saw in knowledge not merely a means of gaining his
+bread, but &quot;something nobler; the means of raising the spirit in the
+contemplation of the truth, of isolating it at will from the miseries of
+reality, so to find, in these intellectual regions, the only hours of happiness
+that we may be permitted to taste.&quot; <a href="#C2-6">(2/6.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre was so steeped in this passion for knowledge that he wished to evoke it in his
+brother, now teacher at Lapalud, on the Rhône, not far from Orange. It seemed
+to him that he would delight in his wealth still better could he share it with
+another. <a href="#C2-7">(2/7.)</a> He stimulated him, pricked him on, and sought to encourage the
+remarkable aptitude for mathematics with which he believed him endowed. He
+employed his whole strength in breathing into the other's mind &quot;that taste
+for the true and the beautiful&quot; which possessed his own nature; he wished
+to share with him those stores of learning &quot;which he had for some years so
+painfully amassed&quot;; he would profit by the vacation to place them at his
+disposal; they would work together &quot;and the light would come.&quot; Above
+all his brother must not allow his intelligence to slumber, must beware of
+&quot;extinguishing that divine light without which one can, it is true, attend
+to one's business, but which alone can make a man honourable and
+respected.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Let him, on the contrary, cultivate his mind incessantly, &quot;the only patrimony
+on which either of us can count&quot;; the reward would be his moral
+well-being, and, he hoped, his physical welfare also.</p>
+
+<p>
+Once more he reinforced his advice by that excellent counsel which was always his
+own lodestar: </p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;Science, Frédéric, knowledge is everything...You are too good a thinker not to say with
+me that no one can better employ his time than by acquiring fresh
+knowledge...Work, then, when you have the opportunity...an opportunity that
+very few may possess, and for which you ought to be only too thankful. But I
+will stop, for I feel my enthusiasm is going to my head, and my reasons are so
+good already that I have no need of still more triumphant reasons to convince
+you.&quot; <a href="#C2-8">(2/8.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+He had only one passion: shooting; more especially the shooting of larks. This
+sport delighted him, &quot;with the mirror darting its intermittent beams under
+the rays of the morning sun amid the general scintillation of the dewdrops and
+crystals of hoarfrost hanging on every blade of grass.&quot; <a href="#C2-9">(2/9.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+His sight was admirably sure, and he rarely missed his aim. His passion for
+shooting was always sustained by the same motive: the desire to acquire fresh
+knowledge; to examine unknown creatures close at hand; to discover what they
+ate and how they lived.</p>
+
+<p>
+Later, when he again took up his gun, it was still because of his love of life: it was
+to enable him to enumerate, inventory, and interrogate his new compatriots, his
+feathered fellow-citizens of Sérignan; to inform himself of their diet, to
+reveal the contents of their crops and gizzards.</p>
+
+<p>
+At one time he suddenly ceased to employ this distraction; he seems to have
+sacrificed it easily, under the stress of present necessities and cruel
+anxieties as to his uncertain future. &quot;When we do not know where we shall
+be tomorrow nothing can distract us.&quot; <a href="#C2-10">(2/10.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+His responsibilities were increasing. He had lately married. On the 30th October,
+1844, he was wedded to a young girl of Carpentras, Marie Villard, and already a
+child was born. His parents, always unlucky, met nowhere with any success. By
+dint of many wanderings they had finally become stranded at Pierrelatte, the
+chief town of the canton of La Drôme, sheltered by the great rock which has
+given the place its name; and there again, of course, they kept a café,
+situated on the Place d'Armes.</p>
+
+<p>
+The whole family was now assembled in the same district, a few miles only one from
+another: but Henri was really its head. Having heard that a quarrel had arisen
+between his brother and his mother, he wrote to Frédéric in reprimand; gently
+scolding him and begging him to set matters right, &quot;even if all the wrongs
+were not on his side.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;My father, in one of his letters, complains that in spite of your nearness you
+have not yet been to see them. I know very well there is some reason for
+sulking; but what matter? Give it up: forget everything; do your best to put an
+end to all these petty and ugly estrangements. You will do so, won't you? I
+count on it, for the happiness of all.&quot; <a href="#C2-11">(2/11.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+He was their arbitrator, their adviser, their oracle, their bond of union.</p>
+
+<p>
+With all this, he was ready to attempt the two examinations which were to decide his
+future. Very shortly, at Montpellier, he passed almost successively, at an
+interval of only a few months the examinations for both his baccalauréats; and
+then the two licentiate examinations in mathematics and physical science.</p>
+
+<p>
+While he was ardently studying for these examinations, sorrow for the first time
+knocked at his door. His first-born fell suddenly ill, and in a few days died.
+On this occasion all his ardent spirituality asserted itself, though in
+stricken accents, in the letter which he wrote to his brother to announce his
+loss: </p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;After a few days of a marked improvement, which made me think he was saved, two large
+teeth were cut...and in three days a dreadful fever took him, not from us, who
+will follow him, but from this miserable world. Ah, poor child, I shall always
+see you as you were during those last moments, turning those wide, wandering
+eyes toward heaven, seeking the way to your new country. With a heart full of
+tears, I shall often let my thoughts go straying after you; but alas! with the
+eyes of the body I shall never see you again. I shall see you no more: yet only
+a few days ago I was making the finest plans for you. I used to work for you
+only; in my studies I thought only of you. Grow up, I used to say, and I will
+pour into your mind all the knowledge which has cost me so dear, which I am
+hoarding little by little...But reflection leads me to higher thoughts. I choke
+back the tears in my heart, and I congratulate him that Heaven has mercifully
+spared him this life of trials...My poor child...you will never, like your
+father, have to struggle against poverty and misfortune; you will never know
+the bitterness of life, and the difficulties of creating a position at a time
+when there are so many paths that lead to failure...I weep for you because we
+have lost you, but I rejoice because you are happy...You are happy, and this is
+not the mad hope of a father broken by sorrow; no, your last glance told me so,
+too eloquently for me to doubt it. Oh, how beautiful you were in your mortal
+pallor; the last sigh on your lips, your gaze upon heaven, and your soul ready
+to fly into the bosom of God! Your last day was the most beautiful!&quot;
+<a href="#C2-12">(2/12.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Although study was his refuge, although he was thereby able to live through these evil
+days without too greatly feeling their weight, his position was hateful, and he
+lived a wretched life &quot;from one day to another, like a beggar.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+In those troublous times, when education was of no account, it often happened that
+his teacher's salary was several months in arrears, and the city of Carpentras,
+&quot;not being in funds,&quot; paid it only by instalments, and even so kept
+him a long time waiting. &quot;One has to besiege the paymaster's door merely
+to obtain a trifle on account. I am ashamed of the whole business, and I would
+gladly abandon my claim if I knew where to raise any money.&quot; <a href="#C2-13">(2/13.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+The genius of Balzac has recorded some unforgettable types of those poor and
+notable lives, at once so humble and so lofty. He has described the village
+curé and the country doctor. But how we should have loved to encounter in his
+gallery, among so many living portraits, a picture of the university life of
+fifty years ago; and above all a picture of the small schoolmaster of other days,
+living a life so narrow, so slavish, so painful, and yet so full of worth, so
+imbued with the sense of duty, and withal so resigned; a portrait for which
+Fabre might have served as model and prototype, and for which he himself has
+drawn an unforgettable sketch.</p>
+
+<p>
+He awaited impatiently the news of his removal, very modestly limiting his
+ambitions to the hope of entering some lycée as professor of the sciences. His
+rector was not unnaturally astonished that a young man of such unusual worth,
+already twice a licentiate, should be so little appreciated by those in high
+places and allowed to stagnate so long in an inferior post, and one unworthy of
+him.</p>
+
+<p>
+In the end, however, after much patient waiting, he became indignant; as always,
+he could see nothing ahead. The chair of mathematics at Tournon escaped him.
+Another position, at Avignon, also &quot;slipped through his fingers&quot;; why
+or how he never knew. He &quot;began to see clearly what life is, and how
+difficult it is to make one's mark amid all this army of schemers, beggars and
+imbeciles who besiege every vacant post.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+But his heart was &quot;none the less hot with indignation&quot;; he had had enough
+of &quot;Carpentras, that accursed little hole&quot;; and when the vacations
+came round once more he &quot;plainly considered the question&quot; and
+declared &quot;that he would never again set foot inside a communal
+school.&quot; <a href="#C2-14">(2/14.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+He wrote to the rector: &quot;If instead of crushing me into the narrow round of a
+primary school they would give me some employment of the kind for which my
+studies and ideas fit me, they would know then what is hatching in my head and
+what untirable activity there is in me.&quot; <a href="#C2-15">(2/15.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+He resigned himself nevertheless; he cursed and swore and stormed at his fate;
+but he had once more to put up with it &quot;for want of a better.&quot; All
+the same &quot;the injustice was too unheard-of, and no one had ever seen or
+would ever see the like: to give him two licentiate's diplomas, and to make
+him conjugate verbs for a pack of brats! It was too much!&quot; <a href="#C2-16">(2/16.)</a></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAP03">CHAPTER 3. CORSICA.</a></h2>
+
+<p>
+At last the chair of physics fell vacant at the college of Ajaccio, the salary
+being 72 pounds sterling, and he left for Corsica. His stay there was well
+calculated to impress him. There the intense impressionability which the little
+peasant of Aveyron received at birth could only be confirmed and increased. He
+felt that this superb and luxuriant nature was made for him, and that he was
+born for it; to understand and interpret it. He would lose himself in a
+delicious intoxication, amid the deep woodlands, the mountains rich with
+scented flowers, wandering through the maquis, the myrtle scrub, through
+jungles of lentisk and arbutus; barely containing his emotion when he passed
+beneath the great secular chestnut-trees of Bastelica, with their enormous
+trunks and leafy boughs, whose sombre majesty inspired in him a sort of
+melancholy at once poetic and religious. Before the sea, with its infinite
+distances, he lingered in ecstasy, listening to the song of the waves, and
+gathering the marvellous shells which the snow-white breakers left upon the
+beach, and whose unfamiliar forms filled him with delight.</p>
+
+<p>
+He was soon so accustomed to his new life in peaceful Ajaccio, whose surroundings,
+decked in eternal verdure, are so captivating and so beautiful, that in spite
+of a vague desire for change he now dreaded to leave it. He never wearied of
+admiring and exalting the beautiful and majestic aspects of his new home. How
+he longed to share his enthusiasm with his father or his brother, as he rambled
+through the neighbouring maquis!</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;The infinite, glittering sea at my feet, the dreadful masses of granite overhead,
+the white, dainty town seated beside the water, the endless jungles of myrtle,
+which yield intoxicating perfumes, the wastes of brushwood which the
+ploughshare has never turned, which cover the mountains from base to summit;
+the fishing-boats that plough the gulf: all this forms a prospect so
+magnificent, so striking, that whosoever has beheld it must always long to see
+it again.&quot; <a href="#C3-1">(3/1.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;What is their rock of Pierrelatte, that enormous block of stone which overhangs the
+place where they dwell, a reef which rises from the surface of the ancient sea
+of alluvium, compared with these blocks of uprooted granite which lie upon the
+hillsides here?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+And what were the Aubrac hills which traversed his native country; what was the
+Ventoux even, that famous Alp, &quot;beside the peaks which rise about the gulf
+of Ajaccio, always crowned with clouds and whitened with snow, even when the
+soil of the plains is scorching and rings like a fired brick?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Time did nothing to abate these first impressions, and after more than a year on the
+island he was still full of wonder &quot;at the sight of these granite crests,
+corroded by the severities of the climate, jagged, overthrown by the lightning,
+shattered by the slow but sure action of the snows, and these vertiginous gulfs
+through which the four winds of heaven go roaring; these vast inclined planes
+on which snow-drifts form thirty, sixty, and ninety feet in depth, and across
+which flow winding watercourses which go to fill, drop by drop, the yawning
+craters, there to form lakes, black as ink when seen in the shadow, but blue as
+heaven in the light...</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;But it would be impossible for me to give you the least idea of this dizzy
+spectacle, this chaos of rocks, heaped in frightful disorder. When, closing my
+eyes, I contemplate these results of the convulsion of the soil in my mind's
+eye, when I hear the screaming of the eagles, which go wheeling through the
+bottomless abysses, whose inky shadows the eye dares hardly plumb, vertigo
+seizes me, and I open my eyes to reassure myself by the reality.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+And he sends with his letter a few leaves of the snow immortelle--the
+edelweiss--plucked on the highest summits, amid the eternal snows; &quot;you
+will put this in some book, and when, as you turn the leaves, the immortelle
+meets your eyes, it will give you an excuse for dreaming of the beautiful
+horrors of its native place.&quot; <a href="#C3-2">(3/2.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+What a misfortune for him, what regret he would feel, &quot;if he had now to go to
+some trivial country of plains, where he would die of boredom!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+For him everything was unfamiliar: not only the flora, but the maritime wealth of
+this singular country. He would set out of a morning, visiting the coves and
+creeks, roving along the beaches of this magnificent gulf, a lump of bread in
+his pocket, quenching his thirst with sea-water in default of fresh!</p>
+
+<p>
+They were mornings full of rosy illusions, whose smiling hopes were revealed in his
+admirable letters to his brother. Already he meditated a conchology of Corsica,
+a colossal history of all the molluscs which live upon its soil or in its
+waters. <a href="#C3-3">(3/3.)</a> He collected all the shells he could procure. He analysed,
+described, classed, and co-ordinated not only the marine species, but the
+terrestrial and freshwater shells also, extant or fossil. He asked his brother
+to collect for him all the shells he could find in the marshes of Lapalud, in
+the brooks and ditches of the neighbourhood of Orange. In his enthusiasm he
+tried to convince him of the immense interest of these researches, which might
+perhaps seem ridiculous or futile to him; but let him only think of geology;
+the humblest shell picked up might throw a sudden light upon the formation of
+this or that stratum. None are to be disdained: for men have considered, with
+reason, that they were honouring the memory of their eminent fellows by giving
+their names to the rarest and most beautiful. Witness the magnificent Helix
+dedicated to Raspail, which is found only in the caverns where the
+strawberry-tree grows amid the high mountains of Corsica. <a href="#C3-4">(3/4.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Moreover, he said, &quot;the infinitesimal calculus of Leibnitz will show you that the
+architecture of the Louvre is less learned than that of a snail: the eternal
+geometer has unrolled his transcendent spirals on the shell of the mollusc that
+you, like the vulgar profane, know only seasoned with spinach and Dutch
+cheese.&quot; <a href="#C3-5">(3/5.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+For all that, he did not neglect his mathematics, in which, on the contrary, he
+found abundant and suggestive recreation. The properties of a figure or a curve
+which he had newly discovered prevented his sleep for several nights.</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;All this morning I have been busy with star-shaped polygons, and have proceeded
+from surprise to surprise...perceiving in the distance, as I advanced,
+unforeseen and marvellous consequences.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Here, among others, is one question which suddenly presented itself to his mind
+&quot;in the midst of the spikes&quot; of his polygons: what would be the
+period of the rotation of the sun on its own centre if its atmosphere reached
+as far as the earth? And this question gave rise to another, &quot;without
+which the sequence stops then and there; number, space, movement, and order
+form a single chain, the first link of which sets all the rest in motion.&quot;
+<a href="#C3-6">(3/6.)</a> And the hours went by quickly, so quickly with &quot;x,&quot; the plants
+and the shells, that &quot;literally there was no time to eat.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+For Fabre was born a poet, and mathematics borders upon poetry; he saw in algebra
+&quot;the most magnificent flights,&quot; and the figures of analytical
+geometry unrolled themselves in his imagination &quot;in superb strophes&quot;;
+the Ellipse, &quot;the trajectory of the planets, with its two related foci,
+sending from one to the other a constant sum of vector radii&quot;; the
+Hyperbole, &quot;with repulsive foci, the desperate curve which plunges into
+space in infinite tentacles, approaching closer and closer to a straight line,
+the asymptote, without ever finally attaining it&quot;; the Parabola,
+&quot;which seeks fruitlessly in the infinite for its second, lost centre: it
+is the trajectory of the bomb: it is the path of certain comets which come one
+day to visit our sun, then flee into the depths whence they never return.&quot;
+<a href="#C3-7">(3/7.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+And one fine morning we behold him mounting, thrilled by a lyric passion, to the
+lofty regions in which Number, &quot;irresistible, omnipotent, keystone of the
+vault of the universe, rules at once Time and Space.&quot; He ascends, he
+rushes forward, farther than the chariot--</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;Beyond the Husbandman who ploughs in space<br>
+And sows the suns in furrows of the skies.&quot;</p>
+<p>
+He ascends those tracks of flame, where on high<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&quot;in those lists inane<br>
+Wise regulator, Number holds the reins<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Of those indomitable steeds; <br>
+Number has set a bit i' the foaming mouths<br>
+Of these Leviathans, and with nervous hand<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Controls them in their tracks;</p>
+<p>
+Their smoking flanks beneath the yoke in vain<br>
+Quiver; their nostrils vainly void as foam<br>
+Dense tides of lava; and in vain they rear; <br>
+For Number on their mettled haunches poised<br>
+Holds them, or duly with the rein controls, <br>
+Or in their flanks buries his spur divine.&quot; <a href="#C3-8">(3/8.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Later he confessed all that he owed, as a writer, to geometry, whose severe
+discipline forms and exercises the mind, gives it the salutary habit of
+precision and lucidity, and puts it on its guard against terms which are
+incorrect or unduly vague, giving it qualities far superior to all the
+&quot;tropes of rhetoric.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+It was then that he became the pupil of Requien of Avignon, the retired botanist,
+a lofty but somewhat limited mind, who was hardly capable of opening up other
+horizons to him. But Requien did at least enrich his memory by a prodigious
+quantity of names of plants with which he had not been acquainted. He revealed
+to him the immense flora of Corsica, which he himself had come to study, and
+for which Fabre was to gather such a vast amount of material.</p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre found in Requien more especially a friend &quot;proof against anything&quot;;
+and when the latter died almost suddenly at Bonifacio, Fabre was overwhelmed by
+the sad news. On that very day he had on the table before him a parcel of
+plants gathered for the dead botanist. &quot;I cannot let my eyes rest upon
+it,&quot; he wrote at the time, &quot;without feeling my heart wrung and my
+sight dim with tears.&quot; <a href="#C3-9">(3/9.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+But the most admirably fruitful encounter, as it exercised the profoundest
+influence upon his destiny, was his meeting with Moquin-Tandon, a Toulouse
+professor who followed Requien to Corsica, to complete the work which the
+latter had left unfinished: the complete inventory of the prodigious wealth of
+vegetation, of the innumerable species and varieties which Fabre and he collected
+together, on the slopes and summits of Monte Renoso, often botanizing &quot;up
+in the clouds, mantle on back and numb with cold.&quot; <a href="#C3-10">(3/10.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Moquin-Tandon was not merely a skilful naturalist; he was one of the most eloquent and
+scholarly scientists of his time. Fabre owed to him, not his genius, to be
+sure, but the definite indication of the path he was finally to take, and from
+which he was never again to stray.</p>
+
+<p>
+Moquin-Tandon, a brilliant writer and &quot;an ingenious poet in his Montpellerian
+dialect,&quot; <a href="#C3-11">(3/11.)</a> taught Fabre never to forget the value of style and the
+importance of form, even in the exposition of a purely descriptive science such
+as botany. He did even more, by one day suddenly showing Fabre, between the
+fruit and the cheese, &quot;in a plate of water,&quot; the anatomy of the
+snail. This was his first introduction to his true destiny before the final
+revelation of which I shall presently speak. Fabre understood then and there
+that he could do decidedly better than to stick to mathematics, though his whole
+career would feel the effects of that study.</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;Geometers are made; naturalists are born ready-made,&quot; he wrote to his brother, still
+excited by this incident, &quot;and you know better than any one whether
+natural history is not my favourite science.&quot; <a href="#C3-12">(3/12.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+From that time forward he began to collect not only dead, inert, or dessicated
+forms, mere material for study, with the aim of satisfying his curiosity; he
+began to dissect with ardour, a thing he had never done before. He housed his
+tiny guests in his cupboard; and occupied himself, as he was always to do in
+the future, with the smaller living creatures only.</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;I am dissecting the infinitely little; my scalpels are tiny daggers which I make
+myself out of fine needles; my marble slab is the bottom of a saucer; my
+prisoners are lodged by the dozen in old match-boxes; maxime miranda in
+minimis.&quot; <a href="#C3-13">(3/13.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Roaming at night along the marshy beaches, he contracted fever, and several terrible
+attacks, accompanied by alarming tremors, left him so bloodless and feeble
+that, much against his will, he had to beg for relief, and even insist upon his
+prompt return to the mainland. in the meantime he obtained sick-leave, and
+returned to Provence after a terrible crossing which lasted no less than three
+days and two nights, on a sea so furious that he gave himself up for lost.
+<a href="#C3-14">(3/14.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Slowly he recovered his health, and after a second but brief stay at Ajaccio he
+received the news of his appointment to the lycée of Avignon. <a href="#C3-15">(3/15.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+He returned with his imagination enriched and his mind expanded, with settled
+ideas, and thoroughly ripe for his task.</p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAP04">CHAPTER 4. AT AVIGNON.</a></h2>
+
+<p>
+The resolute worker resumed his indefatigable labours with an ardour greater than
+ever, for now he was haunted by a noble ambition, that of becoming a teacher of
+the superior grade, and of &quot;talking plants and animals&quot; in a chair of
+the faculty. With this end in view he added to his two diplomas--those of
+mathematics and physics--a third certificate, that of natural sciences. His
+success was triumphant.</p>
+
+<p>
+Already tenacious and fearless in affirming what he believed to be the truth, he
+astonished and bewildered the professors of Toulouse. Among the subjects
+touched upon by the examiners was the famous question of spontaneous
+generation, which was then so vital, and which gave rise to so many impassioned
+discussions. The examiner, as it chanced, was one of the leading apostles of
+this doctrine. The future adversary of Darwin, at the risk of failure, did not
+scruple to argue with him, and to put forward his personal convictions and his
+own arguments. He decided the vexed question in his own way, on his own
+responsibility. A personality already so striking was regarded with admiration;
+a candidate so far out of the ordinary was welcomed with enthusiasm, and but for
+the insufficiency of the budget which so scantily met the needs of public
+instruction his examination fees would have been returned. <a href="#C4-1">(4/1.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Why, after this brilliant success, was Fabre not tempted to enter himself for a
+fellowship, which would later in his career have averted so many
+disappointments? It was doubtless because he felt, obscurely, that his ideal
+future lay along other lines, and that he would have been taking a wrong
+turning. Despite all the solicitations which were addressed to him he would
+think of nothing but &quot;his beloved studies in natural history&quot; <a href="#C4-2">(4/2.)</a>;
+he feared to lose precious time in preparing himself for a competitive
+examination; &quot;to compromise by such labour, which he felt would be
+fruitless&quot; <a href="#C4-3">(4/3.)</a>, the studies which he had already commenced, and the
+inquiries already carried out in Corsica. He was busy with his first original
+labours, the theses which he was preparing with a view to his doctorate in
+natural science, &quot;which might one day open the doors of a faculty for him,
+far more easily than would a fellowship and its mathematics.&quot; <a href="#C4-4">(4/4.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+At heart he was utterly careless of dignities and degrees. He worked only to
+learn, not to attain and follow up a settled calling. What he hoped above all
+was to succeed in devoting all his leisure to those marvellous natural sciences
+in which he could vaguely foresee studies full of interest; something animated
+and vital; a thousand fascinating themes, and an atmosphere of poetry.</p>
+
+<p>
+His genius, as yet invisible, was ripening in obscurity, but was ready to come
+forth; he lacked only the propitious circumstance which would allow him to
+unfold his wings.</p>
+
+<p>
+He was seeking them in vain when a volume by Léon Dufour, the famous entomologist,
+who then lived in the depths of the Landes, fell by chance into his hands, and
+lit the first spark of that beacon which was presently to decide the definite
+trend of his ideas.</p>
+
+<p>
+It was this incident which then and there developed the germs already latent
+within him. These had only awaited such an occasion as that which so
+fortunately came to pass one evening of the winter of 1854.</p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre offers yet another example of the part so often played by chance in the
+manifestations of talent. How many have suddenly felt the unexpected awakening
+of gifts which they did not suspect, as a result of some unusual circumstance!</p>
+
+<p>
+Was it not simply as a result of having read a note by the Russian chemist
+Mitscherlich on the comparison of the specific characteristics of certain
+crystals that Pasteur so enthusiastically took up his researches into molecular
+asymmetry which were the starting-point of so many wonderful discoveries?</p>
+
+<p>
+Again, we need only recall the case of Brother Huber, the celebrated observer of the
+bee, who, having out of simple curiosity undertaken to verify certain
+experiments of Réaumur's, was so completely and immediately fascinated by the
+subject that it became the object of the rest of his life.</p>
+
+<p>
+Again, we may ask what Claude Bernard would have been had he not met Magendie?
+Similarly Léon Dufour's little work was to Fabre the road to Damascus, the
+electric impulse which decided his vocation.</p>
+
+<p>
+It dealt with a very singular fact concerning the manners of one of the
+hymenoptera, a wasp, a Cerceris, in whose nest Dufour had found small
+coleoptera of the genus Buprestis, which, under all the appearances of death,
+retained intact for an incredible time their sumptuous costume, gleaming with
+gold, copper, and emerald, while the tissues remained perfectly fresh. In a
+word, the victims of Cerceris, far from being desiccated or putrefied, were
+found in a state of integrity which was altogether paradoxical.</p>
+
+<p>
+Dufour merely believed that the Buprestes were dead, and he gave an attempted
+explanation of the phenomenon.</p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre, his curiosity and interest aroused, wished to observe the facts for himself;
+and, to his great surprise, he discovered how incomplete and insufficiently
+verified were the observations of the man who was at that time known as
+&quot;the patriarch of entomologists.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+From that moment he saw his way ahead; he suspected that there was still much to
+discover and much to revise in this vast department of nature, and conceived
+the idea of resuming the work so splendidly outlined by Réaumur and the two
+Hubers, but almost completely neglected since the days of those illustrious
+masters. He divined that here were fresh pastures, a vast unexplored country to
+be opened up, an entire unimagined science to be founded, wonderful secrets to
+be discovered, magnificent problems to be solved, and he dreamed of
+consecrating himself unreservedly, of employing his whole life in the pursuit
+of this object; that long life whose fruitful activity was to extend over
+nearly ninety years, and which was to be so &quot;representative&quot; by the
+dignity of the man, the probity of the expert, the genius of the observer, and
+the originality of the writer.</p>
+
+<p>
+The year 1855 saw the first appearance, in the &quot;Annales des sciences
+naturelles,&quot; of the famous memoir which marked the beginning of his fame:
+the history, which might well be called marvellous and incredible, of the great
+Cerceris, a giant wasp and &quot;the finest of the Hymenoptera which hunt for
+booty at the foot of Mont Ventoux.&quot; <a href="#C4-5">(4/5.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre was now thirty-two years old, and his situation as assistant-professor of
+physics was somewhat precarious. From the 72 pounds sterling which he drew at
+Ajaccio, an overseas post, his salary was reduced, on his return to the
+mainland, to 64 pounds sterling, and during the whole of his stay at Avignon he
+obtained neither promotion nor the smallest increase of pay, excepting a few
+additional profits which were unconnected with his habitual duties. When he
+left the university after twenty well-filled years, he left as he had entered,
+with the same title, rank, and salary of a mere assistant-professor.</p>
+
+<p>
+Yet all about him &quot;everywhere and for every one, all was black indeed&quot;:
+his family had increased and therewith his expenses; there were now seven at
+table every day. Very shortly his modest salary would no longer suffice; he was
+obliged to supplement it by all sorts of hack-work--classes,
+&quot;repetitions,&quot; private lessons; tasks which repelled him, for they
+absorbed all his available time; they prevented him from giving himself up to
+his favourite studies, to his silent and solitary observations. Nevertheless,
+he acquitted himself of these duties patiently and conscientiously, for at
+heart he loved his profession, and was rather a fellow-disciple than a master
+to his pupils. For this reason all those about him worked with praiseworthy
+assiduity; even the worst elements, the black sheep, the &quot;bad eggs&quot;
+of other classes, with him were suddenly transformed and as attentive as the
+rest. Although he knew how to keep order, how to make himself respected, and
+could on occasion deal severely and speak sternly, so that very few dared to
+forget themselves before him, he knew also how to be merry with his pupils,
+chatting with them familiarly, putting himself in their place, entering into
+their ideas, and making himself their rival. If life was laborious under his
+ferula, it was also merry. The best proof of this is the fact that of all his
+colleagues at the lycée he was the only one who had no nickname, a rarity in
+scholastic annals.</p>
+
+<p>
+He did not therefore object to these lessons; but while at Carpentras he was made
+much of and praised by the principal, was a general favourite, and had perfect
+liberty to follow his inspiration during his partly gratuitous classes, here
+the hours and the programme tied him down, which was precisely what he found
+insupportable.</p>
+
+<p>
+Everything made things difficult for him here: his external self; his character, ever so
+little shy and unsocial; his temperament, which was made for solitude.</p>
+
+<p>
+In the thick of this hierarchical society of university professors he remained
+independent; he knew nothing of what was said or what was happening in the
+college, and his colleagues were always better informed than he. <a href="#C4-6">(4/6.)</a> As he
+was not a fellow, he was made to feel the fact and was treated as a
+subordinate; the others, who prided themselves on the title, and who were
+incapable of recognizing his merit, which was a little beyond them, were
+jealous of him, all the more inasmuch as his name was momentarily noised
+abroad, and they revenged themselves by calling him &quot;the fly&quot; among
+themselves, by way of allusion to his favourite subject. <a href="#C4-7">(4/7.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Indifferent to distinctions, as well as to those who bore them, contemptuous of etiquette,
+and incapable of putting constraint upon his nature, he remained an
+&quot;outsider,&quot; and refused to comply with a host of factitious or
+worldly obligations which he regarded as useless or disgusting. Thus even at
+Ajaccio he managed to escape the customary ceremonies of New Year's Day.</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;Good society I avoid as much as possible; I prefer my own company. So I have seen no
+one; I did not respond to the principal's invitation to make the official round
+of visits.&quot; <a href="#C4-8">(4/8.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+When obliged to accept some invitation, apart from occasions of too great solemnity,
+when he was really constrained to dress himself in the complete livery of
+circumstance and ceremony, he remained faithful to his black felt hat, which
+made a blot among all the carefully polished &quot;toppers&quot; of his
+colleagues. He was called to order; he was reprimanded; he obeyed unwillingly,
+or worse, he resisted; he revolted, and threatened to send in his resignation.
+To pay court to people, to endeavour to make himself pleasant, to grovel before
+a superior, were to him impossibilities. He could neither solicit, nor sail
+with the wind, nor force himself on others, nor even make use of his relations.</p>
+
+<p>
+However, when he went to Paris to take his doctor's degree in natural sciences, he did
+not forget Moquin-Tandon, who had formerly, in Corsica, revealed to him the
+nature of biology, and whom he himself had received and entertained in his
+humble home.</p>
+
+<p>
+The ex-professor of Toulouse, who was now eminent in his speciality, occupied the
+chair of natural history in the faculty of medicine in Paris. What better
+occasion could he wish of introducing himself to a highly placed official?
+Fabre had formerly been his host; he could recall the happy hours they had
+spent together; he could explain his plans, and ask for the professor's
+assistance! Fate pointed to him as a protector. But if Fabre had been capable
+of climbing the professor's stairs with some such ambitious desires, he would
+quickly have been disabused.</p>
+
+<p>
+The &quot;dear master&quot; had long ago forgotten the little professor of Ajaccio,
+and his welcome was by no means such as Fabre had the right to expect. Far from
+insisting, he was disheartened, perhaps a little humiliated, and hastened to
+take his leave.</p>
+
+<p>
+The theses which Fabre brought with him, and which, he had thought, ought to lead
+him one day to a university professorship, did not, as a matter of fact,
+contain anything very essentially original.</p>
+
+<p>
+He had been attracted, indeed fascinated, by all the singularities presented by
+the strange family of the orchids; the asymmetry of their blossoms, the unusual
+structure of their pollen, and their innumerable seeds; but as for the curious
+rounded and duplicated tubercles which many of them bore at their base, what
+precisely were they? The greatest botanists--de Candolle, A. de Jussieu--had
+perceived in them nothing more than roots. Fabre demonstrated in his thesis
+that these singular organs are in reality merely buds, true branches or shoots,
+modified and disguised, analogous to the metamorphosed tubercle of the potato.
+<a href="#C4-9">(4/9.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+He added also a curious memoir on the phosphorescence of the agaric of the
+olive-tree, a phenomenon to which he was to return at a later date.</p>
+
+<p>
+In the field of zoology his scalpel revealed the complicated structure of the
+reproductive organs of the Centipedes (Millepedes), hitherto so confused and
+misunderstood; as also certain peculiarities of the development of these
+curious creatures, so interesting from the point of view of the zoological
+philosopher <a href="#C4-10">(4/10.)</a>, for he had become expert in handling not only the
+magnifying glass, which was always with him, but also the microscope, which
+discovers so many infinite wonders in the lowest creatures, yet which was not
+of particular service in any of the beautiful observations upon which his fame
+is built.</p>
+
+<p>
+Returning to Avignon, in the possession of his new degree, he commenced an important task
+which took him nearly twenty years to complete: a painstaking treatise on the
+Sphaeriaceae of Vaucluse, that singular family of fungi which cover fallen
+leaves and dead twigs with their blackish fructifications; a remarkable piece
+of work, full of the most valuable documentation, as were the theses whose
+subjects I have just detailed; but without belittling the fame of their author,
+one may say that another, in his place, might have acquitted himself as well.</p>
+
+<p>
+Although he continued to undertake researches of limited interest and importance,
+although he persisted in dissecting plants, and, although he disliked it, in
+&quot;disembowelling animals,&quot; the fact was that apart from Thursdays and
+Sundays it was scarcely possible for him to escape from his week's work; hardly
+possible to snatch sufficient leisure to undertake the studies toward which he
+felt himself more particularly drawn. Tied down by his duties, which held him
+bound to a discipline that only left him brief moments, and by the forced
+hack-work imposed upon him by the necessity of earning his daily bread, he had
+scarcely any time for observation excepting vacations and holidays.</p>
+
+<p>
+Then he would hasten to Carpentras, happy to hold the key to the meadows, and wander
+across country and along the sunken lanes, collecting his beautiful insects,
+breathing the free air, the scent of the vines and olives, and gazing upon Mont
+Ventoux, close at hand, whose silver summit would now be hidden in the clouds
+and now would glitter in the rays of the sun.</p>
+
+<p>
+Carpentras was not merely the country in which his wife's parents dwelt: it was, above
+all, a unique and privileged home for insects; not on account of its flora, but
+because of the soil, a kind of limestone mingled with sand and clay, a soft
+marl, in which the burrowing hymenoptera could easily establish their burrows
+and their nests. Certain of them, indeed, lived only there, or at least it
+would have been extremely difficult to find them elsewhere; such was the famous
+Cerceris; such again, was the yellow-winged Sphex, that other wasp which so
+artistically stabs and paralyses the cricket, &quot;the brown violinist of the
+clods.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+At Carpentras too the Anthophorae lived in abundance; those wild bees with whom
+the vexed and enigmatic history of the Sitaris and the Meloë is bound up; those
+little beetles, cousins of the Cantharides, whose complex metamorphoses and
+astonishing and peculiar habits have been revealed by Fabre. This memoir marked
+the second stage of his scientific career, and followed, at an interval of two
+years, the magnificent observations on the Cerceris.</p>
+
+<p>
+These two studies, true masterpieces of science, already constituted two excellent
+titles to fame, and would by themselves have sufficed to fill a naturalist's
+whole lifetime and to make his name illustrious.</p>
+
+<p>
+From that time forward he had no peer. The Institute awarded him one of its Montyon
+prizes <a href="#C4-11">(4/11.)</a>, &quot;an honour of which, needless to say, he had never
+dreamed.&quot; <a href="#C4-12">(4/12.)</a> Darwin, in his celebrated work on the &quot;Origin of
+Species,&quot; which appeared precisely at this moment, speaks of Fabre
+somewhere as &quot;the inimitable observer.&quot; <a href="#C4-13">(4/13.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Exploring the immediate surroundings of Avignon, he very soon discovered fresh localities
+frequented almost exclusively by other insects, whose habits in their turn
+absorbed his whole attention.</p>
+
+<p>
+First of these was the sandy plateau of the Angles, where every spring, in the sunlit
+pastures so beloved of the sheep, the Scarabaeus sacer, with his incurved feet
+and clumsy legs, commences to roll his everlasting pellet, &quot;to the
+ancients the image of the world.&quot; His history, since the time of the
+Pharaohs, had been nothing but a tissue of legends; but stripping it of the
+embroidery of fiction, and referring it to the facts of nature, Fabre
+demonstrated that the true story is even more marvellous than all the tales of
+ancient Egypt. He narrated its actual life, the object of its task, and its
+comical and exhilarating performances. But such is the subtlety of these
+delicate and difficult researches that nearly forty years were required to
+complete the study of its habits and to solve the mystery of its cradle.
+<a href="#C4-14">(4/14.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+On the right bank of the Rhône, facing the embouchure of the Durance, is a small
+wood of oak-trees, the wood of Des Issarts. This again, for many reasons, was
+one of his favourite spots. There, &quot;lying flat on the ground, his head in
+the shadow of some rabbit's burrow,&quot; or sheltered from the sun by a great
+umbrella, &quot;while the blue-winged locusts frisked for joy,&quot; he would
+follow the rapid and sibilant flight of the elegant Bembex, carrying their
+daily ration of diptera to her larvae, at the bottom of her burrow, deep in the
+fine sand.&quot; <a href="#C4-15">(4/15.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+He did not always go thither alone: sometimes, on Sundays, he would take his
+pupils with him, to spend a morning in the fields, &quot;at the ineffable
+festival of the awakening of life in the spring.&quot; <a href="#C4-16">(4/16.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Those most dear to him, those who in the subsequent years have remained the object of
+a special affection, were Devillario, Bordone, and Vayssières <a href="#C4-17">(4/17.)</a>,
+&quot;young people with warm hearts and smiling imaginations, overflowing with
+that springtime sap of life which makes us so expansive and so eager to know.</p>
+
+<p>
+Among them he was &quot;the eldest, their master, but still more their companion and
+friend&quot;; lighting in them his own sacred fire, and amazing them by the
+deftness of his fingers and the acuteness of his lynx-like eyes. Furnished with
+a notebook and all the tools of the naturalist--lens, net, and little boxes of
+sawdust steeped in anaesthetic for the capture of rare specimens--they would
+wander &quot;along the paths bordered with hawthorn and hyaebla, simple and
+childlike folk,&quot; probing the bushes, scratching up the sand, raising
+stones, running the net along hedge and meadow, with explosions of delight when
+they made some splendid capture or discovered some unrecorded marvel of the
+entomological world.</p>
+
+<p>
+It was not only on the banks of the Rhône or the sandy plateau of Avignon that
+they sought adventure thus, &quot;discussing things and other things,&quot; but
+as far as the slopes of Mont Ventoux, for which Fabre had always felt an
+inexplicable and invincible attraction, and whose ascent he accomplished more
+than twenty times, so that at last he knew all its secrets, all the gamut of
+its vegetation, the wealth of the varied flora which climb its flanks from base
+to summit, and which range &quot;from the scarlet flowers of the pomegranate to
+the violet of Mont Cenis and the Alpine forget-me-not&quot; <a href="#C4-18">(4/18.)</a>, as well as
+the antediluvian fauna revealed amid its entrails, a vast ossuary rich in
+fossils.</p>
+
+<p>
+His disciples, all of whom, without exception, regarded him with absolute worship,
+have retained the memory of his wit, his enthusiasm, his geniality and his
+infectious gaiety, and also of the singular uncertainty of his temperament; for
+on some days he would not speak a word from the beginning to the end of his
+walk.</p>
+
+<p>
+Even his temper, ordinarily gentle and easy, would suddenly become hasty and
+violent, and would break out into terrible explosions when a sudden annoyance
+set him beside himself; for instance, when he was the butt of some ill-natured
+trick, or when, in spite of the lucidity of his explanations, he felt that he
+had not been properly understood. Perhaps he inherited this from his mother, a
+rebellious, crotchety, somewhat fantastic person, by whose temper he himself
+had suffered.</p>
+
+<p>
+But the young people who surrounded him were far from being upset by these
+contrasts of temperament, in which they themselves saw nothing but natural
+annoyance, and the corollary, as it were, of his abounding vitality. <a href="#C4-19">(4/19.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+It was because he was the only university teacher in Avignon to occupy himself
+with entomology that Pasteur visited him in 1865. The illustrious chemist had
+been striving to check the plague that was devastating the silkworm nurseries,
+and as he knew nothing of the subject which he proposed to study, not even
+understanding the constitution of the cocoon or the evolution of the silkworm,
+he sought out Fabre in order to obtain from his store of entomological wisdom
+the elementary ideas which he would find indispensable. Fabre has told us, in a
+moving page <a href="#C4-20">(4/20.)</a>, with what a total lack of comprehension of &quot;poverty in
+a black coat&quot; the great scientist gazed at his poor home. Preoccupied by
+another problem, that of the amelioration of wines by means of heat, Pasteur
+asked him point-blank--him, the humble proletarian of the university caste, who
+drank only the cheapest wine of the country--to show him his cellar. &quot;My
+cellar! Why not my vaults, my dusty bottles, labelled according to age and
+vintage! But Pasteur insisted. Then, pointing with my finger, I showed him, in
+a corner of the kitchen, a chair with all the straw gone, and on this chair a
+two-gallon demijohn: 'There is my cave, monsieur!'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+If the country professor was embarrassed by the chilliness of the other, he was
+none the less shocked by his attitude. It would seem, from what Fabre has said,
+that Pasteur treated him with a hauteur which was slightly disdainful. The
+ignorant genius questioned his humble colleague, distantly giving him his
+orders, explaining his plans and his ideas, and informing him in what
+directions he required assistance.</p>
+
+<p>
+After this, we cannot be surprised if the naturalist was silent. How could
+sympathetic relations have survived this first meeting? Fabre could not forgive
+it. His own character was too independent to accommodate itself to Pasteur's.
+Yet never, perhaps, were two men made for a better understanding. They were
+equally expert in exercising their admirable powers of vision in the vast field
+of nature, equally critical of self, equally careful never to depart from the
+strict limits of the facts; and they were, one may say, equally eminent in the
+domain of invention, different though their fortunes may have been; for the
+sublimity of scientific discoveries, however full of genius they may be, is
+often measured only by the immediate consequences drawn therefrom and the
+practical importance of their results.</p>
+
+<p>
+In reality, were they not two rivals, worthy of being placed side by side in the
+paradise of sages? Both of them, the one by demolishing the theory of
+spontaneous generation, the other by refuting the mechanical theory of the
+origin of instincts, have brought into due prominence the great unknown and
+mysterious forces which seem destined to hold eternally in suspense the
+profound enigma of life.</p>
+
+<p>
+Now he was anxious not to leave the Vaucluse district, the scene of his first
+success, and a place so fruitful in subjects of study. He wished to remain
+close to his insects, and also near the precious library and the rich
+collections which Requien had left by will to the town of Avignon. In spite of
+the meagreness of his salary, he asked for nothing more; and, what is more, by
+an inconsequence which is by no means incomprehensible, he avoided everything
+that might have resulted in a more profitable position elsewhere, and evaded
+all proposals of further promotion. Twice, at Poitiers and Marseilles, he
+refused a post as assistant professor, not regarding the advantages sufficient
+to balance the expenses of removal. <a href="#C4-21">(4/21.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+It is true that his modest position was slightly improved; at the lycée he had
+just been appointed drawing-master, thanks to his knowledge of design, for he
+could draw--indeed, what could he not do? The city, on the other hand,
+appointed him conservator of the Requien Museum, and presently municipal
+lecturer, so that his earnings were increased by 48 pounds sterling per annum,
+and he was at last able to abandon &quot;those abominable private lessons&quot;
+<a href="#C4-22">(4/22.)</a>, which the insufficiency of his income had hitherto forced him to
+accept. These new duties, which naturally demanded much time and much labour,
+kept him almost as badly tied as he had been before.</p>
+
+<p>
+To be rich enough to set himself free; to be master of all his time, to be able to
+devote himself entirely to his chosen work: this was his dream, his constant
+preoccupation: it haunted him; it was a fixed idea.</p>
+
+<p>
+Such was the principal motive of his inquiry into the properties of madder, the
+colouring principle of which he succeeded in extracting directly, by a
+perfectly simple method, which for a time very advantageously replaced the
+extremely primitive methods of the old dyers, who used a simple extract of
+madder; a crude preparation which necessitated long and expensive
+manipulations. <a href="#C4-23">(4/23.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+He had been working at this for eight years when Victor Duruy, Minister of Public
+Instruction and Grand Master of the University, came to surprise him in his
+laboratory at Saint-Martial, in the full fever of research. Whatever was
+Duruy's idea in entering into relations with him, it seems that from their
+first meeting the two men were really taken with one another: there were,
+between them, so many close affinities of taste and character. Duruy found in
+Fabre a man of his own temper; for his, like Fabre's, was a modest and simple
+nature. Both came of the people, and the principal motive of each was the same
+ideal of work, emancipation, and progress.</p>
+
+<p>
+A little later Duruy summoned the modest sage of Avignon to Paris, with
+particular insistence; he was full of attentions and of forethought, and made
+him there and then a chevalier of the Legion of Honour; a distinction of which
+Fabre was far from being proud, and which he was careful never to obtrude; but
+he nevertheless always thought of it with a certain tenderness, as a beloved
+&quot;relic&quot; in memory of this illustrious friend.</p>
+
+<p>
+On the following day the naturalist was conveyed to the Tuileries to be presented
+to the Emperor. You must not suppose that he was in the least disturbed at the
+idea of finding himself face to face with royalty. In the presence of all these
+bedizened folk, in his coat of a cut which was doubtless already superannuated,
+he cared little for the impression he might produce. As good an observer of men
+as of beasts, he gazed quietly about him; he exchanged a few words with the
+Emperor, who was &quot;quite simple,&quot; almost suppressed, his eyes always
+half-closed; he watched the coming and going of &quot;the chamberlains with
+short breeches and silver-buckled shoes, great scarabaei, clad with café au
+lait wing-cases, moving with a formal gait.&quot; Already he sighed
+regretfully; he was bored; he was on the rack, and for nothing in the world
+would he have repeated the experience. He did not even feel the least desire to
+visit the vaunted collections of the Museum. He longed to return; to find
+himself once more among his dear insects; to see his grey olive-trees, full of
+the frolicsome cicadae, his wastes and commons, which smelt so sweet of thyme
+and cypress; above all, to return to his furnace and retorts, in order to
+complete his discovery as quickly as possible.</p>
+
+<p>
+But others profited by his happy conceptions. Like the cicada, the Cigale of his
+fable (See &quot;Social Life in the Insect World,&quot; by Jean-Henri Fabre (T.
+Fisher Unwin, 1912).), which makes a &quot;honeyed reek&quot; flow from--</p>
+
+<p>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&quot;the bark<br>
+Tender and juicy, of the bough,&quot;</p>
+
+<p>on which it is quickly supplanted by</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;Fly, drone, wasp, beetle too with hornèd head&quot; <a href="#C4-24">(4/24.)</a>, </p>
+
+<p>
+who</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;Now lick their honey'd lips, and feed at leisure,&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+so, after he had painfully laboured for twelve years in his well, he saw others,
+more cunning than he, come to his perch, who by dint of &quot;stamping on his
+toe,&quot; succeeded in ousting him. Pending the appearance of artificial
+alizarine, which was presently to turn the whole madder industry upside down,
+these more sophisticated persons were able to benefit at leisure by the
+ingenious processes discovered by Fabre, so that the practical result of so
+much assiduity, so much patient research, was absolutely nil, and he found
+himself as poor as ever.</p>
+
+<p>
+So faded his dream: and, if we except his domestic griefs, this was certainly the
+deepest and cruellest disappointment he had ever experienced.</p>
+
+<p>
+Thenceforth he saw his salvation only in the writing of textbooks, which were at last to
+throw open the door of freedom. Already he had set to work, under the powerful
+stimulus of Duruy, preoccupied as he always was by his incessant desire for
+freedom. The first rudiments of his &quot;Agricultural Chemistry,&quot; which
+sounded so fresh a note in the matter of teaching, had given an instance and a
+measure of his capabilities.</p>
+
+<p>
+But he did not seriously devote himself to this project until after the industrial
+failure and the distressing miscarriage of his madder process; and not until he
+had been previously assured of the co-operation of Charles Delagrave, a young
+publisher, whose fortunate intervention contributed in no small degree to his
+deliverance. Confident in his vast powers of work, and divining his
+incomparable talent as <b><i>popularizer</i></b>, Delagrave felt that he could promise Fabre
+that he would never leave him without work; and this promise was all the more
+comforting, in that the University, despite his twenty-eight years of assiduous
+service, would not accord him the smallest pension.</p>
+
+<p>
+Victor Duruy was the great restorer of education in France, from elementary and
+primary education, which should date, from his great ministry, the era of its
+deliverance, to the secondary education which he himself created in every part.
+He was also the real initiator of secular instruction in France, and the Third
+Republic has done little but resume his work, develop his ideas, and extend his
+programme. Finally, by instituting classes for adults, the evening classes
+which enabled workmen, peasants, bourgeois, and young women to fill the gaps in
+their education, he gave reality to the generous and fruitful idea that it is
+possible for all to divide life into two parts, one having for its object our
+material needs and our daily bread, and the other consecrated to the spiritual
+life and the delights of the Ideal.</p>
+
+<p>
+At the same time he emancipated the young women of France, formerly under the
+exclusive tutelage of the clergy, and opened to them for the first time the
+golden gates of knowledge; an audacious innovation, and formidable withal, for
+it shrewdly touched the interests of the Church, struck a blow at her
+ever-increasing influence, and clashed with her consecrated privileges and
+age-long prejudices. <a href="#C4-25">(4/25.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+At Avignon Fabre was instructed to give his personal services. He gave them with
+all his heart; and it was then that he undertook, in the ancient Abbey of
+Saint-Martial, those famous free lectures which have remained celebrated in the
+memory of that generation. There, under the ancient Gothic vault, among the
+pupils of the primary Normal College, an eager crowd of listeners pressed to
+hear him; and among the most assiduous was Roumanille, the friend of Mistral, he
+who so exquisitely wove into his harmonies &quot;the laughter of young maidens
+and the flowers of springtime.&quot; No one expounded a fact better than Fabre;
+no one explained it so fully and so clearly. No one could teach as he did, in a
+fashion so simple, so animated, so picturesque, and by methods so original.</p>
+
+<p>
+He was indeed convinced that even in early childhood it was possible for both boys
+and girls to learn and to love many subjects which had hitherto never been
+proposed; and in particular that Natural History which to him was a book in
+which all the world might read, but that university methods had reduced it to a
+tedious and useless study in which the letter &quot;killed the life.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+He knew the secret of communicating his conviction, his profound faith, to his
+hearers: that sacred fire which animated him, that passion for all the
+creatures of nature.</p>
+
+<p>
+These lectures took place in the evening, twice a week, alternately with the
+municipal lectures, to which Fabre brought no less application and ardour. In
+the intention of those who instituted them these latter were above all to be
+practical and scientific, dealing with science applied to agriculture, the
+arts, and industry.</p>
+
+<p>
+But might he not also expect auditors of another quality, in love only with the
+ideal, &quot;who, without troubling about the possible applications of
+scientific theory, desired above all to be initiated into the action of the
+forces which rule nature, and thereby to open to their minds more wondrous
+horizons&quot;?</p>
+
+<p>
+Such were the noble scruples which troubled his conscience, and which appeared in
+the letter which he addressed to the administration of the city, when he was
+entrusted by the latter with what he regarded as a lofty and most important
+mission.</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;...Is it to be understood that every purely scientific aspect, incapable of immediate
+application, is to be rigorously banished from these lessons? Is it to be
+understood that, confined to an impassable circle, the value of every truth
+must be reckoned at so much per hundred, and that I must silently pass over all
+that aims only at satisfying a laudable desire of knowledge? No, gentlemen, for
+then these lectures would lack a very essential thing: the spirit which gives
+life!&quot; <a href="#C4-26">(4/26.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Physically, according to the testimony of his contemporaries, he was already as an
+admirable photograph represents him twenty years later: he wore a large black
+felt hat; his face was shaven, the chin strong and wilful, the eyes vigilant,
+deep-set and penetrating; he hardly changed, and it was thus I saw him later,
+at a more advanced age.</p>
+
+<p>
+The ancient Abbey of Saint-Martial, where these lectures were given, was occupied
+also by the Requien Museum, of which Fabre had charge. It was here that he one
+day met John Stuart Mill.</p>
+
+<p>
+The celebrated philosopher and economist had just lost his wife: &quot;the most
+precious friendship of his life&quot; was ended. <a href="#C4-27">(4/27.)</a> It was only after long
+waiting that he had been able to marry her. Subjected at an early age by a
+father devoid of tenderness and formidably severe to the harshest of disciplines,
+he had learned in childhood &quot;what is usually learned only by a man.&quot;
+Scarcely out of his long clothes, he was construing Herodotus and the dialogues
+of Plato, and the whole of his dreary youth was spent in covering the vast
+field of the moral and mathematical sciences. His heart, always suppressed,
+never really expanded until he met Mrs. Harriett Taylor.</p>
+
+<p>
+This was one of those privileged beings such as seem as a rule to exist only in
+poetry and literature; a woman as beautiful as she was astonishingly gifted
+with the rarest faculties; combining with the most searching intelligence and
+the most persuasive eloquence so exquisite a sensitiveness that she seemed
+often to divine events in advance.</p>
+
+<p>
+Mill possessed her at last for a few years only, and he had resigned his post in the
+offices of the East India Company to enjoy a studious retreat in the enchanted
+atmosphere of southern Europe when suddenly at Avignon Harriett Mill was
+carried off by a violent illness. (Mill retired in 1858, when the government of
+India passed to the Crown. He had married Mrs. John Taylor in 1851. [Tr.])</p>
+
+<p>
+From that time the philosopher's horizon was suddenly contracted to the limit of
+those places whence had vanished the adored companion and the beneficent genius
+who had been the sole charm of his entire existence. Overwhelmed with grief, he
+acquired a small country house in one of the least frequented parts of the
+suburbs of Avignon, close to the cemetery where the beloved dead was laid to
+rest for ever. A silent alley of planes and mulberry-trees led to the
+threshold, which was shaded by the delicate foliage of a myrtle. All about he
+had planted a dense hedge of hawthorn, cypress, and arborvitae, above which,
+from the vantage of a small terrace, built, under his orders, at the level of
+the first floor, he could see, day by day and at all hours, the white tomb of
+his wife, and a little ease his grief.</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus he cloistered himself, &quot;living in memory,&quot; having no companion but
+the daughter of his wife; trying to console himself by work, recapitulating his
+life, the story of which he has told in his remarkable &quot;Memoirs.&quot;
+<a href="#C4-28">(4/28.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre paid a few visits to this Thebaïd. A solitary such as Mill had become could be
+attracted only by a man of his temper, in whom he found, if not an affinity of
+nature, at least tastes like his own, and immense learning, as great as his.
+For Mill also was versed in all the branches of human knowledge: not only had
+he meditated on the high problems of history and political economy, but he had
+also probed all branches of science: mathematics, physics, and natural history.
+It was above all botany which served them as a bond of union, and they were
+often seen to set forth on a botanizing expedition through the countryside.</p>
+
+<p>
+This friendship, which was not without profit for Fabre <a href="#C4-29">(4/29.)</a>, was still more
+precious to Mill, who found, in the society of the naturalist, a certain relief
+from his sorrow. The substance of their conversation was far from being such as
+one might have imagined it. Mill was not highly sensible to the festival of
+nature or the poetry of the fields. He was hardly interested in botany, except
+from the somewhat abstract point of view of classification and the systematic
+arrangement of species. Always melancholy, cold, and distant, he spoke little;
+but Fabre felt under this apparent sensibility a rigorous integrity of
+character, a great capacity for devotion, and a rare goodness of heart.</p>
+
+<p>
+So the two wandered across country, each thinking his own thoughts, and each
+self-contained as though they were walking on parallel but distant paths.</p>
+
+<p>
+However, Fabre was not at the end of his troubles; and secret ill-feeling began to
+surround him. The free lectures at Saint-Martial offended the devout, angered
+the sectaries, and excited the intolerance of the pedants, &quot;whose feeble
+eyelids blink at the daylight,&quot; and he was far from receiving, from his
+colleagues at the lycée, the sympathy and encouragement which were, at this
+moment especially, so necessary to him. Some even went so far as to denounce
+him publicly, and he was mentioned one day from the height of the pulpit, to
+the indignation of the pupils of the upper Normal College, as a man at once
+dangerous and subversive.</p>
+
+<p>
+Some found it objectionable that this &quot;irregular person, this man of solitary
+study,&quot; should, by his work and by the magic of his teaching, assume a
+position so unique and so disproportionate. Others regarded the novelty of
+placing the sciences at the disposal of young girls as a heresy and a scandal.</p>
+
+<p>
+Their bickering, their cabals, their secret manoeuvres, were in the long run to
+triumph. Duruy had just succumbed under the incessant attacks of the clericals.
+In him Fabre lost a friend, a protector, and his only support. Embittered,
+defeated, he was now only waiting for a pretext, an incident, a mere nothing,
+to throw up everything.</p>
+
+<p>
+One fine morning his landladies, devout and aged spinsters, made themselves the
+instruments of the spite of his enemies, and abruptly gave him notice to quit.
+he had to leave before the end of the month, for, simple and confident as
+usual, he had obtained neither a lease nor the least written agreement.</p>
+
+<p>
+At this moment he was so poor that he had not even the money to meet the expenses
+of his removal. The times were troublous: the great war had commenced, and
+Paris being invested he could no longer obtain the small earnings which his
+textbooks were beginning to yield him, and which had for some time been
+increasing his modest earnings. On the other hand, having always lived far from
+all society, he had not at Avignon a single relation who could assist him, and
+he could neither obtain credit nor find any one to extricate him from his
+embarrassments and save him from the extremity of need with which he was
+threatened. He thought of Mill, and in this difficult juncture it was Mill who
+saved him. The philosopher was then in England; he was for the time being a
+member of the House of Commons, and he used to vary his life at Avignon by a
+few weeks' sojourn in London. His reply, however, was not long in coming:
+almost immediately he sent help; a sum of some 120 pounds sterling, which fell
+like manna into the hands of Fabre; and he did not, in exchange, demand the
+slightest security for this advance.</p>
+
+<p>
+Then, filled with disgust, the &quot;irregular person&quot; shook off the
+yoke and retired to Orange. At first he took shelter where he could, anxious
+only to avoid as far as possible any contact with his fellow-men; then, having
+finally discovered a dwelling altogether in conformity with his tastes, he moved
+to the outskirts of the city, and settled at the edge of the fields, in the
+middle of a great meadow, in an isolated house, pleasant and commodious, connected
+with the road to Camaret by a superb avenue of tall and handsome plane-trees.
+This hermitage in some respects recalled that of Mill in the outskirts of Avignon;
+and thence his eyes, embracing a vast horizon, from the pediment of the ancient
+theatre to the hills of Sérignan, could already distinguish the promised land.</p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAP05">CHAPTER 5. A GREAT TEACHER.</a></h2>
+
+<p>
+It was in 1871. Fabre had lived twenty years at Avignon. This date constitutes an
+important landmark in his career, since it marks the precise moment of his
+final rupture with the University.</p>
+
+<p>
+At this time the preoccupations of material life were more pressing than ever, and
+it was then that he devoted himself entirely and with perseverance to the
+writing of those admirable works of introduction and initiation, in which he
+applied himself to rendering science accessible to the youngest minds, and
+employed all his profound knowledge to the thorough teaching of its elements
+and its eternal laws.</p>
+
+<p>
+To this ungrateful task--ungrateful, but in reality pleasurable, so strongly had
+he the vocation, the feeling, and the genius of the teacher--Fabre applied
+himself thenceforth with all his heart, and for nine years never lifted his
+hand.</p>
+
+<p>
+How insipid, how forbidding were the usual classbooks, the second-rate natural
+histories above all, stuffed with dry statements, with raw knowledge, which
+brought nothing but the memory into play! How many youthful faces had grown
+pale above them!</p>
+
+<p>
+What a contrast and a deliverance in these little books of Fabre's, so clear, so
+luminous, so simple, which for the first time spoke to the heart and the
+understanding; for &quot;work which one does not understand disgusts one.&quot;
+<a href="#C5-1">(5/1.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+To initiate others into science or art, it is not enough to have understood them
+oneself; it is not enough even that one should be an artist or a scientist.
+Scientists of the highest flight are sometimes very unskilful teachers, and
+very indifferent hands at explaining the alphabet. It is not given to the first
+comer to educate the young; to understand how to identify his understanding
+with theirs, to measure their powers. It is a matter of instinct and good sense
+rather than of memory or erudition, and Fabre, who had never in his life been
+the pupil of any one, could better than any remember the phases through which
+his mind had passed, could recollect by what detours of the mind, by what
+secret labours of thought, by what intuitive methods he had succeeded in
+conquering, one by one, all the difficulties in his path, and in gradually
+attaining to knowledge.</p>
+
+<p>
+It is wonderful to watch the mastery with which he conducts his demonstrations,
+the simplest as well as the most involved, singling out the essential, little
+by little evoking the sense of things, ingeniously seeking familiar examples,
+finding comparisons, and employing picturesque and striking images, which throw
+a dazzling light upon the obscurest question or the most difficult problem. How
+in such matters can one dispense with figurative speech, when one is reduced,
+as a rule, to an inability to show the things themselves, but only their images
+and their symbols?</p>
+
+<p>
+Follow him, for example, in the &quot;The Sky&quot; <a href="#C5-2">(5/2.)</a>, which seems to thrill with
+the ardent and comprehensive genius of a Humboldt, and admire the ease with
+which he surmounts all the difficulties and smooths the way for the vast voyage
+on which he conducts you, past the infinity of the suns and the stars in their
+millions, scintillating in the cold air of night, to descend once more to our
+humble &quot;Earth&quot; <a href="#C5-3">(5/3.)</a>; first an ocean of fire, rolling its heavy
+waves of molten porphyry and granite, then &quot;slowly hardening into strange
+floes and bergs, hotter than the red iron in the fire of the forge,&quot; rounding
+its back, all covered with gaping pustules, eruptive mountains and craters, and
+the first folds of its calcined crust, until the day when the vast mist of
+densest vapours, heaped up on every hand and of immeasurable depth, begins
+gradually to show rifts, giving rise at last to an infinite storm, a stupendous
+deluge, and forming the strange universal sea, &quot;a mineral sludge, veiled
+by a chaos of smoke,&quot; whence at length the primitive soil emerges,
+&quot;and at last the green grass.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+And although &quot;a little animal proteid, capable of pleasure and pain, surpasses
+in interest the whole immense creation of dead matter,&quot; he does not forget
+to show us the spectacle of life flowing through matter itself; and he animates
+even the simple elementary bodies, celebrating the marvellous activities of the
+air, the violence of Chlorine, the metamorphoses of Carbon, the miraculous
+bridals of Phosphorus, and &quot;the splendours which accompany the birth of a
+drop of water.&quot; <a href="#C5-4">(5/4.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+A man must indeed love knowledge deeply before he can make others love it, or
+render it easy and attractive, revealing only the smiling highways; and Fabre,
+above all things the impassioned professor, was the very man to lead his
+disciples &quot;between the hedges of hawthorn and sloe,&quot; whether to show
+them the sap, &quot;that fruitful current, that flowing flesh, that vegetable
+blood,&quot; or how the plant, by a mysterious transubstantiation, makes its
+wood, &quot;and the delicate bundle of swaddling-bands of its buds,&quot; or
+how &quot;from a putrid ordure it extracts the flavour and the fragrance of its
+fruits&quot;; or whether he seeks to evoke the murderous plants that live as
+parasites at the cost of others; the white Clandestinus, &quot;which strangles
+the roots of the alders beside the rivers,&quot; the Cuscuta, &quot;which knows
+nothing of labour,&quot; the wicked Orobanche, plump, powerful and brazen, the
+skin covered with ugly scales, &quot;with sombre flowers that wear the livery
+of death, which leaps at the throat of the clover, stifling it, devouring it,
+sucking its blood.&quot; <a href="#C5-5">(5/5.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Botany, by this genial treatment, becomes a most interesting study, and I know of no
+more captivating reading than &quot;The Plant&quot; and &quot;The Story of the
+Log,&quot; the jewels of this incomparable series.</p>
+
+<p>
+Employ Fabre's method if you wish to learn by yourself, or to evoke in your children a
+love of science, and, according to the phrase of the gentle Jean-Jacques, to
+help them &quot;to buy at the best possible of prices.&quot; Give them as sole
+guides these exquisite manuals, which touch upon everything, initiating them
+into everything, and bringing within the reach of all, for their instruction or
+amusement, the heavens and the earth, the planets and their moons, the
+mechanism of the great natural forces and the laws which govern them, life and
+its materials, agriculture and its applications. For more than a quarter of a
+century these catechisms of science, models of lucidity and good sense,
+effected the education of generations of Frenchmen. Abridgments of all
+knowledge, veritable codes of rural wisdom, these perfect breviaries have never
+been surpassed.</p>
+
+<p>
+It was after reading these little books, it is said, that Duruy conceived the idea
+of confiding to this admirable teacher the education of the Imperial heir; and
+it is very probable that this was, in reality, the secret motive which would
+explain why he had so expressly summoned Fabre to Paris. What an ideal tutor he
+had thought of, and how proud might others have been of such a choice! But the
+man was too zealous of his independence, too difficult to tame, to bear with
+the environment of a court, and God knows whether he was made for such
+refulgence! We need not be surprised that Fabre never heard of it; it must have
+sufficed the minister to speak with him for a few minutes to realize that the
+most tempting offers and all the powers of seduction would never overcome his
+insurmountable dislike of life in a capital, nor prevail against his inborn,
+passionate, exclusive love of the open.</p>
+
+<p>
+For these volumes Fabre was at first rather wretchedly paid; at all events, until
+public education had definitely received a fresh impulse; and for a long time
+his life at Orange was literally a hand-to-mouth existence.</p>
+
+<p>
+As soon as he was able to realize a few advances, he had nothing so much at heart
+as the repayment of Mill, and he hastened to call on the philosopher; all the
+more filled with gratitude for his generosity in that the loan, although of the
+comparatively large amount of three thousand francs, was made without security,
+practically from hand to hand, with no other warranty than his probity.</p>
+
+<p>
+For this reason this episode was always engraven on his memory. Thirty years later
+he would relate the affair even to the most insignificant details. How many
+times has he not reminded me of the transaction, insisting that I should make a
+note of it, so anxious was he that this incident in his career should not be
+lost in oblivion! How often has he not recalled the infinite delicacy of Mill,
+and his excessive scrupulousness, which went so far that he wished to give a
+written acknowledgment of the repayment of the debt, of which there was no
+record whatever save in the conscience of the debtor!</p>
+
+<p>
+Scarcely two years later Mill died suddenly at Avignon. Grief finally killed him; for
+this unexpected death seemed to have been only the ultimate climax of the
+secret malady which had so long been undermining him.</p>
+
+<p>
+It was in the outskirts of Orange that Fabre for the last time met him and
+accompanied him upon a botanizing expedition. He was struck by his weakness and
+his rapid decline. Mill could hardly drag himself along, and when he stooped to
+gather a specimen he had the greatest difficulty in rising. They were never to
+meet again.</p>
+
+<p>
+A few days later--on the 8th May, 1873--Fabre was invited to lunch with the
+philosopher. Before going to the little house by the cemetery he halted, as was
+his custom, at the Libraire Saint-Just. It was there that he learned, with
+amazement, of the tragic and sudden event which set a so unexpected term to a
+friendship which was doubtless a little remote, but which was, on both sides, a
+singularly lofty and beautiful attachment.</p>
+
+<p>
+His class-books were now bringing in scarcely anything; their preparation,
+moreover, involved an excessive expenditure of time, and gave him a great deal
+of trouble; it is impossible to imagine what scrupulous care, what zeal and
+self-respect Fabre brought to the execution of the programme which he had to
+fulfil.</p>
+
+<p>
+To begin with, he considered that he could not enjoy a more splendid opportunity
+to give children a taste for science and to stimulate their curiosity than by
+finding a means to interest them, from their earliest infancy, in their simple
+playthings, even the crudest and most inexpensive; so true is it that &quot;in
+the smallest mechanical device or engine, even in its simplest form, as
+conceived by the industry of a child, there is often the germ of important
+truths, and, better than books, the school of the playroom, if gently
+disciplined, will open for the child the windows of the universe.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;The humble teetotum, made of a crust of rye-bread transfixed by a twig, silently
+spinning on the cover of a school-book, will give a correct enough image of the
+earth, which retains unmoved its original impulse, and travels along a great
+circle, at the same time turning on itself. Gummed on its disc, scraps of paper
+properly coloured will tell us of white light, decomposable into various
+coloured rays...</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;There will be the pop-gun, with its ramrod and its two plugs of tow, the hinder one
+expelling the foremost by the elasticity of the compressed air. Thus we get a
+glimpse of the ballistics of gunpowder, and the pressure of steam in
+engines...&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+The little hydraulic fountain made of an apricot stone, patiently hollowed and
+pierced with a hole at either side, into which two straws are fitted, one
+dipping into a cup of water and the other duly capped, &quot;expelling a
+slender thread of water in which the sunlight flickers,&quot; will introduce us
+to the true syphon of physics.</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;What amusing and useful lessons&quot; a well-balanced scheme of education might
+extract from this &quot;academy of childish ingenuity&quot;! <a href="#C5-6">(5/6.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+At this time he was undertaking the education of his own children. His chemistry
+lessons especially had a great success. <a href="#C5-7">(5/7.)</a> With apparatus of his own
+devising and of the simplest kind, he could perform a host of elementary
+experiments, the apparatus as a rule consisting of the most ordinary materials,
+such as a common flask or bottle, an old mustard-pot, a tumbler, a goose-quill
+or a pipe-stem.</p>
+
+<p>
+A series of astonishing phenomena amazed their wondering eyes. He made them see,
+touch, taste, handle, and smell, and always &quot;the hand assisted the
+word,&quot; always &quot;the example accompanied the precept,&quot; for no one
+more fully valued the profound maxim, so neglected and misunderstood, that
+&quot;to see is to know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+He exerted himself to arouse their curiosity, to provoke their questions, to
+discover their mistakes, to set their ideas in order; he accustomed them to
+rectify their errors themselves, and from all this he obtained excellent
+material for his books.</p>
+
+<p>
+For those more especially intended for the education of girls he took counsel with
+his daughter Antonia, inviting her collaboration, begging her to suggest every
+aspect of the matter that occurred to her; for instance, in respect of the
+chemistry of the household, &quot;where exact science should shed its light
+upon a host of facts relating to domestic economy&quot; <a href="#C5-8">(5/8.)</a>, from the
+washing of clothes to the making of a stew.</p>
+
+<p>
+Even now, to his despair, although freed from the cares of school life, he was
+always almost wholly without leisure to devote himself to his chosen subjects.</p>
+
+<p>
+It was at this period above all that he felt so &quot;lonely, abandoned,
+struggling against misfortune; and before one can philosophize one has to
+live.&quot; <a href="#C5-9">(5/9.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+And his incessant labour was aggravated by a bitter disappointment. In the year of
+Mill's death Fabre was dismissed from his post as conservator of the Requien
+Museum, which he had held in spite of his departure from Avignon, going thither
+regularly twice a week to acquit himself of his duties. The municipality,
+working in the dark, suddenly dismissed him without explanation. To Fabre this
+dismissal was infinitely bitter; &quot;a sweeper-boy would have been treated
+with as much ceremony.&quot; <a href="#C5-10">(5/10.)</a> What afflicted him most was not the
+undeserved slight of the dismissal, but his unspeakable regret at quitting
+those beloved vegetable collections, &quot;amassed with such love&quot; by
+Requien, who was his friend and master, and by Mill and himself; and the
+thought that he would henceforth perhaps be unable to save these precious but
+perishable things from oblivion, or terminate the botanical geography of
+Vaucluse, on which he had been thirty years at work!</p>
+
+<p>
+For this reason, when there was some talk of establishing an agronomic station at
+Avignon, and of appointing him director, he was at first warmly in favour of
+the idea. <a href="#C5-11">(5/11.)</a> Already he foresaw a host of fascinating experiments, of the
+highest practical value, conducted in the peace and leisure and security of a
+fixed appointment. It is indeed probable that in so vast a field he would have
+demonstrated many valuable truths, fruitful in practical results; he was
+certainly meant for such a task, and he would have performed it with genuine
+personal satisfaction. He had already exerted his ingenuity by trying to
+develop, among the children of the countryside, a taste for agriculture, which
+he rightly considered the logical complement of the primary school, and which
+is based upon all the sciences which he himself had studied, probed, taught,
+and popularized.</p>
+
+<p>
+It will be remembered how patiently he devoted himself for twelve years to the
+study of madder, multiplying his researches, and applying himself not only to
+extracting the colouring principle, but also to indicating means whereby
+adulteration and fraud might be detected.</p>
+
+<p>
+He had published memoirs of great importance dealing with entomology in its
+relations to agriculture. Impressed with the importance of this little world,
+he suggested valuable remedies, means of preservation; which were all the more
+logical in that the destruction of insects, if it is to be efficacious, must be
+based not upon a gross empiricism, but on a previous study of their social life
+and their habits.</p>
+
+<p>
+With what patience he observed the terribly destructive weevils, and those
+formidable moths with downy wings, which fly without sound of a night, and
+whose depredations have often been valued at millions of francs! How
+meticulously he has recorded the conditions which favour or check the
+development of those parasitic fungi whose mortal blemishes are seen on buds
+and flowers, on the green shoots and clusters that promise a prosperous
+vintage!</p>
+
+<p>
+But then he became anxious. Was it all worth the sacrifice of his liberty?
+&quot;Would he not suffer a thousand annoyances from pretentious
+nobodies?&quot; for as things were, all ideas of again &quot;enregimenting&quot;
+himself &quot;filled him with horror.&quot; <a href="#C5-12">(5/12.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Slowly, however, the first instalment of the work which he had spent nearly twenty-five
+years in planning, creating, and polishing, began to take shape. At the end of
+the year 1878 he was able to assemble a sufficient number of studies to form
+material for what was to be the first volume of his &quot;Souvenirs
+entomologiques.&quot; (A selection of which forms &quot;Social Life in the
+Insect World&quot; (T. Fisher Unwin, 1912).)</p>
+
+<p>
+Let us stop for a moment to consider this first book, whose publication constitutes
+a truly historical date, not only in the career of Fabre, but in the annals of
+universal science. It was at once the foundation and the keystone of the
+marvellous edifice which we shall watch unfolding and increasing, but to which
+the future was in reality to add nothing essential. The cardinal ideas as to
+instinct and evolution, the necessity of experimenting in the psychology of
+animals, and the harmonic laws of the conservation of the individual, are here
+already expounded in their final and definite form. This fruitful and decisive
+year brought Fabre a great grief. He lost his son Jules, that one of all his
+children whom he seems most ardently to have loved.</p>
+
+<p>
+He was a youth of great promise, &quot;all fire, all flame&quot;; of a serious
+nature; an exquisite being, of a precocious intelligence, whose rare aptitudes
+both for science and literature were truly extraordinary. Such too was the
+subtlety of his senses that by handling no matter what plant, with his eyes
+closed, he could recognize and define it merely by the sense of touch. This
+delightful companion of his father's studies had scarcely passed his fifteenth
+year when death removed him. A terrible void was left in his heart, which was
+never filled. Thirty years later the least allusion to this child, however
+tactful, which recalled this dear memory to his mind, would still wring his
+heart, and his whole body would be shaken by his sobs. As always, work was his
+refuge and consolation; but this terrible blow shattered his health, until then
+so robust. In the midst of this disastrous winter he fell seriously ill. He was
+stricken with pneumonia, which all but carried him off, and every one gave him
+up for lost. However, he recovered, and issued from his convalescence as though
+regenerated, and with strength renewed he attacked the next stage of his
+labours.</p>
+
+<p>
+But what are the most fruitful resolutions, and what poor playthings are we in the
+hands of the unexpected! A vulgar incident of every-day life had sufficed to
+make Fabre decide to break openly with the University, and to leave Avignon.
+The secret motive of his departure from Orange was scarcely more solid. His new
+landlord concluded one day, either from cupidity or stupidity, to lop most
+ferociously the two magnificent rows of plane-trees which formed a shady avenue
+before his house, in which the birds piped and warbled in the spring, and the
+cicadae chorused in the summer. Fabre could not endure this massacre, this
+barbarous mutilation, this crime against nature. Hungry for peace and quiet,
+the enjoyment of a dwelling-place could no longer content him; at all costs he
+must own his own home.</p>
+
+<p>
+So, having won the modest ransom of his deliverance, he waited no longer,
+but quitted the cities for ever; retiring to Sérignan, to the peaceful obscurity
+of a tiny hamlet, and this quiet corner of the earth had henceforth all his
+heart and soul in keeping.</p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAP06">CHAPTER 6. THE HERMITAGE.</a></h2>
+
+<p>
+Goethe has somewhere written: Whosoever would understand the poet and his work should
+visit the poet's country.</p>
+
+<p>
+Let us, then, the latest of many, make the pilgrimage which all those who are
+fascinated by the enigma of nature will accomplish later, with the same piety
+that has led so many and so fervent admirers to the dwelling of Mistral at
+Maillane.</p>
+
+<p>
+Starting from Orange and crossing the Aygues, a torrent whose muddy waters are lost in
+the Rhône, but whose bed is dried by the July and August suns, leaving only a
+desert of pebbles, where the Mason-bee builds her pretty turrets of rock-work,
+we come presently to the Sérignaise country; an arid, stony tract, planted with
+vines and olives, coloured a rusty red, or touched here and there with almost a
+hue of blood; and here and there a grove of cypress makes a sombre blot. To the
+north runs a long black line of hills, covered with box and ilex and the giant
+heather of the south. Far in the distance, to the east, the immense plain is
+closed in by the wall of Saint-Amant and the ridge of the Dentelle, behind
+which the lofty Ventoux rears its rocky, cloven bosom abruptly to the clouds.
+At the end of a few miles of dusty road, swept by the powerful breath of the
+mistral, we suddenly reach a little village. It is a curious little community,
+with its central street adorned by a double row of plane-trees, its leaping
+fountains, and its almost Italian air. The houses are lime-washed, with flat
+roofs; and sometimes, at the side of some small or decrepit dwelling, we see
+the unexpected curves of a loggia. At a distance the facade of the church has
+the harmonious lines of a little antique temple; close at hand is the graceful
+campanile, an old octagonal tower surmounted by a narrow mitre wrought in
+hammered iron, in the midst of which are seen the black profiles of the bells.</p>
+
+<p>
+I shall never forget my first visit. It was in the month of August; and the whole
+countryside was ringing with the song of the cicadae. I had applied to a
+job-master of Orange, counting on him to take me thither; but he had never
+driven any one to Sérignan, had hardly heard of Fabre, and did not know where
+his house was. At length, however, we contrived to find it. At the entrance of
+the little market-town, in a solitary corner, in the centre of an enclosure of
+lofty walls, which were taller than the crests of the pines and cypresses, his
+dwelling was hidden away. No sound proceeded from it; but for the baying of the
+faithful Tom I do not think I should have dared to knock on the great door,
+which turned slowly on its hinges. A pink house with green shutters,
+half-hidden amid the sombre foliage, appears at the end of an alley of lilacs,
+&quot;which sway in the spring under the weight of their balmy thyrsi.&quot;
+Before the house are the shady plane-trees, where during the burning hours of
+August the cicada of the flowering ash, the deafening cacan, concealed beneath
+the leaves, fills the hot atmosphere with its eager cries, the only sound that
+disturbs the profound silence of this solitude.</p>
+
+<p>
+Before us, beyond a little wall of a height to lean upon, on an isolated lawn, beneath
+the shade of great trees with interwoven boughs, a circular basin displays its
+still surface, across which the skating Hydrometra traces its wide circles.
+Then, suddenly, we see an opening into the most extraordinary and unexpected of
+gardens; a wild park, full of strenuous vegetation, which hides the pebbly soil
+in all directions; a chaos of plants and bushes, created throughout especially
+to attract the insects of the neighbourhood.</p>
+
+<p>
+Thickets of wild laurel and dense clumps of lavender encroach upon the paths,
+alternating with great bushes of coronilla, which bar the flight of the
+butterfly with their yellow-winged flowers, and whose searching fragrance
+embalms all the air about them.</p>
+
+<p>
+It is as though the neighbouring mountain had one day departed, leaving here its
+thistles, its dogberry-trees, its brooms, its rushes, its juniper-bushes, its
+laburnums, and its spurges. There too grows the &quot;strawberry tree,&quot;
+whose red fruits wear so familiar an appearance; and tall pines, the giants of
+this &quot;pigmy forest.&quot; There the Japanese privet ripens its black berries,
+mingled with the Paulownia and the Cratoegus with their tender green foliage.
+Coltsfoot mingles with violets; clumps of sage and thyme mix their fragrance
+with the scent of rosemary and a host of balsamic plants. Amid the cacti, their
+fleshy leaves bristling with prickles, the periwinkle opens its scattered
+blossoms, while in a corner the serpent arum raises its cornucopia, in which
+those insects that love putrescence fall engulfed, deceived by the horrible
+savour of its exhalations.</p>
+
+<p>
+It is in the spring above all that one should see this torrent of verdure, when
+the whole enclosure awakens in its festival attire, decked with all the flowers
+of May, and the warm air, full of the hum of insects, is perfumed with a
+thousand intoxicating scents. It is in the spring that one should see the
+&quot;Harmas,&quot; the open-air observatory, &quot;the laboratory of living
+entomology&quot; <a href="#C6-1">(6/1.)</a>; a name and a spot which Fabre has made famous
+throughout the world.</p>
+
+<p>
+I enter the dining-room, whose wide, half-closed shutters allow only a half-light
+to enter between the printed curtains. Rush-bottomed chairs, a great table,
+about which seven persons daily take their places, a few poor pieces of
+furniture, and a simple bookcase; such are all the contents. On the mantel, a
+clock in black marble, a precious souvenir, the only present which Fabre
+received at the time of his exodus from Avignon; it was given by his old
+pupils, the young girls who used to attend the free lectures at
+Saint-Martial's.</p>
+
+<p>
+There, every afternoon, half lying on a little sofa, the naturalist has the habit of
+taking a short siesta. This light repose, even without sleep, was of old enough
+to restore his energies, exhausted by hours of labour. Thenceforth he was once
+more alert, and ready for the remainder of the day.</p>
+
+<p>
+But already he is on his feet, bareheaded, in his waistcoat, his silk necktie
+carelessly fastened under the soft turned-down collar of his half-open shirt,
+his gesture, in the shadowy chamber, full of welcome.</p>
+
+<p>
+François Sicard, in his faultless medal and his admirable bust, has succeeded with rare
+felicity in reproducing for posterity this rugged, shaven face, full of
+laborious years; a peasant face, stamped with originality, under the wide felt
+hat of Provence; touched with geniality and benevolence, yet reflecting a world
+of energy. Sicard has fixed for ever this strange mask; the thin cheeks,
+ploughed into deep furrows, the strained nose, the pendent wrinkles of the
+throat, the thin, shrivelled lips, with an indescribable fold of bitterness at
+the corners of the mouth. The hair, tossed back, falls in fine curls over the
+ears, revealing a high, rounded forehead, obstinate and full of thought. But
+what chisel, what graver could reproduce the surprising shrewdness of that
+gaze, eclipsed from time to time by a convulsive tremor of the eyelids! What
+Holbein, what Chardin could render the almost extraordinary brilliance of those
+black eyes, those dilated pupils: the eyes of a prophet, a seer; singularly
+wide and deeply set, as though gazing always upon the mystery of things, as
+though made expressly to scrutinize Nature and decipher her enigmas? Above the
+orbits, two short, bristling eyebrows seem set there to guide the vision; one,
+by dint of knitting itself above the magnifying-glass, has retained an
+indelible fold of continual attention; the other, on the contrary, always
+updrawn, has the look of defying the interlocutor, of foreseeing his
+objections, of waiting with an ever-ready return-thrust. Such is this striking
+physiognomy, which one who has seen it cannot forget.</p>
+
+<p>
+There, in this &quot;hermit's retreat,&quot; as he himself has defined it, the sage is
+voluntarily sequestered; a true saint of science, an ascetic living only on
+fruits, vegetables, and a little wine; so in love with retirement that even in
+the village he was for a long time almost unknown, so careful was he to go
+round instead of through it on his way to the neighbouring mountain, where he
+would often spend whole days alone with wild nature.</p>
+
+<p>
+It is in this silent Thebaïd, so far from the atmosphere of cities, the vain
+agitations and storms of the world, that his life has been passed, in
+unchanging uniformity; and here he has been able to pursue, with resolute
+labour and incredible patience, that prodigious series of marvellous
+observations which for nearly fifty years he has never ceased to accumulate.</p>
+
+<p>
+Let us indeed remember how much time has been required and what effort has been
+expended to complete the long and patient inquiries which he had hitherto
+accomplished; obliged, as he was, to allow himself to be interrupted at any
+moment, and to postpone his observations often at the most interesting moment,
+in order to undertake some enervating labour, or the disagreeable and
+mechanical duties of his profession. Remember that his first labours already
+dated from twenty-five years earlier, and at the moment when we observe him in
+his solitude at Sérignan he had only just painfully gathered together the
+material for his first book. What a contrast to the thirty fruitful years that
+were to follow! Now nearly ten volumes, no less overflowing with the richest
+material, were to succeed one another at almost regular intervals--about one in
+every three years.</p>
+
+<p>
+To be sure, he would have gathered his harvest in no matter what corner of the
+world, provided he had found within his reach, in whatever sphere of life he
+had been placed, any subject of inquiry whatever; such was Rousseau, botanizing
+over the bunch of chickweed provided for his canary; such was Bernardin
+Saint-Pierre, discovering a world in a strawberry-plant which had sprouted by
+chance at the corner of his window. <a href="#C6-2">(6/2.)</a> But the field in which he had
+hitherto been able to glean was indeed barren. That he was able, later on, to
+narrate the wonderful history of the Pelopaeus, whose habits he had observed at
+Avignon, was due to the fact that this curious insect had come to lodge with
+him, having chosen Fabre's chamber for its dwelling. None the less he threw
+himself eagerly upon all such scraps of information as happened to come under
+his notice; witness the observations which he embodied in a memoir touching the
+phosphorescence of certain earth-worms which, abounding in a little courtyard
+near his dwelling, were so rare elsewhere that he was never again able to find
+them. <a href="#C6-3">(6/3.)</a> It was therefore fortunate, if not for himself, at least for his
+genius, that he did not become, as he had wished, a professor in a faculty;
+there, to be sure, he would have found a theatre worthy of his efforts, in
+which he might even have demonstrated, in all its magnificence, his
+incomparable gift of teaching; but it is probable too that he would have been
+stranded in shoal waters; that in the official atmosphere of a city his still
+more marvellous gifts of observation would scarcely have found employment.</p>
+
+<p>
+It was only by belonging fully to himself that he could fruitfully exercise his
+talents. Necessary to every scholar, to every inquirer, to an open-air observer
+like Fabre liberty and leisure were more than usually essential; failing these
+he might never have accomplished his mission. How many lives are wasted, how
+many minds expended in sheer loss, in default of this sufficiency of leisure!
+How many scholars tied to the soil, how many physicians absorbed by an exigent
+practice, who perhaps had somewhat to say, have succeeded only in devising plans,
+for ever postponing their realization to some miraculous tomorrow, which always
+recedes!</p>
+
+<p>
+But we must not fall into illusions. How many might be tempted to imitate him,
+hoping to see some unknown talent awaken or expand within them, only to find
+themselves incapable of producing anything, and to consume themselves in an
+insurmountable and barren ennui! One must be rich in one's own nature, rich in
+will and in ability, to live apart and seek new paths in solitude, and it is
+not without reason that the majority prefer the turmoil of cities and the
+murmur of men to the silence of the country.</p>
+
+<p>
+The atmosphere of a great capital, for instance, is singularly conducive to work.
+Living constantly within the circle of light shed by the masters, within reach
+of the laboratories and the great libraries, we are less likely to go astray;
+we are stimulated by the contact of others; we profit by their advice and
+experience; and it is easy to borrow ideas if we lack them. Then there is the
+stimulant of self-respect, the sense of rivalry, the eager desire to advance,
+to distinguish oneself, to shine, to attract attention, to become in one's turn
+an arbiter, an object of wonder and envy, without which stimulus many would
+merely have existed, and would never have become what they are.</p>
+
+<p>
+On the other hand, a man needs an intrinsic radio-activity, and a real talent; and
+the aid, moreover, of exceptional circumstances, if fame is to consent to come
+to him and take him by the hand in the depths of some unknown Maillane, some
+obscure Sérignan; even, as in the case of Fabre, at the end only of a long
+life.</p>
+
+<p>
+But he, by a kind of fatality inherent in his nature, loved &quot;to circumscribe
+himself,&quot; according to the happy expression of Rousseau; and he profited,
+rather than otherwise, by living entirely to himself; for he had long been,
+indeed he always was, the man who, at twenty-five, writing to his brother, had
+said, in speaking of his native countryside: </p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;For a impassioned botanist, it is a delightful country, in which I could pass a
+month, two months, three months, a year even, alone, quite alone, with no other
+companion than the crows and the jays which gossip among the oak-trees; without
+being weary for a moment; there would be so many beautiful fungi, orange, rosy,
+and white, among the mosses, and so many flowers in the fields.&quot; <a href="#C6-4">(6/4.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+His work having brought him at last just enough to enable him to give himself the
+pleasure of becoming, in his turn, a proprietor, he had acquired, for a modest
+sum, this dilapidated dwelling and this deserted spot of ground; barren land,
+given over to couch-grass, thistles, and brambles; a sort of &quot;accursed
+spot, to which no one would have confided even a pinch of turnip-seed.&quot; A
+piece of water in front of the house attracted all the frogs in the neighbourhood;
+the screech-owl mewed from the tops of the plane-trees, and numerous birds, no
+longer disturbed by the presence of man, had domiciled themselves in the lilacs
+and the cypresses. A host of insects had seized upon the dwelling, which had
+long been deserted.</p>
+
+<p>
+He restored the house, and to some extent reduced confusion to order. In the
+uncultivated and pebbly plain where the plough had been long a stranger he
+established plants of a thousand varieties, and, the better to hide himself, he
+had walls built to shut himself in.</p>
+
+<p>
+Why was he drawn by preference to this village of Sérignan?--for he did not go
+thither without making some inquiries as to the possibility of obtaining
+shelter elsewhere, and the Carpentras cemetery had tempted him also; but what
+had particularly seduced and drawn him thither was the nearness of the mountain
+with its Mediterranean flora, so rich that it recalled the Corsican maquis;
+full of beautiful fungi and varied insects, where, under the flat stones
+exposed to the burning sun, the centipede burrowed and the scorpion slept;
+where a special fauna abounded--of curious dung-beetles, scarabaei, the Copris,
+the Minotaur, etc.--which only a little farther north grow rapidly scarcer and
+then altogether disappear.</p>
+
+<p>
+He had thus at last arrived in port; he had found his &quot;Eden.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+He had realized, &quot;after forty years of desperate struggles,&quot; the
+dearest, the most ardent, the longest cherished of all his desires. He could
+observe at leisure &quot;every day, every hour,&quot; his beloved insects;
+&quot;under the blue sky, to the music of the cigales.&quot; He had only to
+open his eyes and to see; to lend an ear and hear; to enjoy the great blessing
+of leisure to his heart's content.</p>
+
+<p>
+Doffing the professor's frock-coat for the peasant's blouse, planting a root of sweet
+basil in his &quot;topper,&quot; and finally kicking it to pieces, he snapped
+his fingers at his past life.</p>
+
+<p>
+Liberated at last, far from all that could irritate or disturb him or make him feel
+dependent, satisfied with his modest earnings, reassured by the ever-increasing
+popularity of his little books, he had obtained entire possession of his own
+body and mind, and could give himself without reserve to his favourite
+subjects.</p>
+
+<p>
+So, with Nature and her inexhaustible book before him, he truly commenced a new
+life.</p>
+
+<p>
+But would this life have been possible without the support and comfort of those
+intimate feelings which are at the root of human nature? Man is seldom the
+master of these feelings, and they, with reason or despite reason, force
+themselves on his notice as the question of questions.</p>
+
+<p>
+This delicate problem Fabre had to resolve after suffering a fresh grief. Hardly had
+he commenced to enjoy the benefits of this profound peace, when he lost his
+wife. At this moment his children were already grown up; some were married and
+some ready to leave him; and he could not hope much longer to keep his old
+father, the ex-café-keeper of Pierrelatte, who had come to rejoin him; and who
+might be seen, even in his extreme old age, going forth in all weathers and
+dragging his aged limbs along all the roads of Sérignan. <a href="#C6-5">(6/5.)</a> The son,
+moreover, had inherited from his father his profound inaptitude for the
+practical business of life, and was equally incapable of managing his interests
+and the economics of the house. This is why, after two years of widowerhood,
+having already passed his sixtieth year, although still physically quite
+youthful, he remarried. Careless of opinion, obeying only the dictates of his
+own heart and mind, and following also the intuitions of unerring instinct,
+which was superior to the understanding of those who thought it their duty to
+oppose him, he married, as Boaz married Ruth, a young woman, industrious, full
+of freshness and life, already completely devoted to his service, and admirably
+fitted to satisfy that craving for order, peace, quiet, and moral tranquillity,
+which to him were above all things indispensable.</p>
+
+<p>
+His new companion, moreover, was in all things faithful to her mission, and it was
+thanks to the benefits of this union, as the future was to show, that Fabre was
+in a position to pursue his long-delayed inquiries.</p>
+
+<p>
+Three children, a son and two daughters, were born in swift succession, and
+reconstituted &quot;the family,&quot; which was very soon increased by the
+youngest of his daughters by his first wife, who had not married; this was that
+Aglaë, who so often helped her father with her childlike attentions, and,
+&quot;her cheek blooming with animation,&quot; collaborated in some of his most
+famous observations <a href="#C6-6">(6/6.)</a>; an unobtrusive figure, a soul full of devotion and
+resignation, heroic and tender. Having in vain ventured into the world, she had
+returned to the beloved roof at Sérignan, unable to part from the father she so
+admired and adored.</p>
+
+<p>
+Later, when the shadow of age grew denser and heavier, the young wife and the younger
+children of the famous poet-entomologist took part in his labours also; they
+gave him their material assistance, their hands, their eyes, their hearing,
+their feet; he in the midst of them was the conceiving, reasoning,
+interpreting, and directing brain.</p>
+
+<p>
+From this time forward the biography of Fabre becomes simplified, and remains a
+statement of his inner life. For thirty years he never emerged from his horizon
+of mountains and his garden of shingle; he lived wholly absorbed in domestic
+affections and the tasks of a naturalist. None the less, he still exercised his
+vocation as teacher, for neither pure science nor poetry was sufficient to
+nourish his mind, and he was still Professor Fabre, untiringly pursuing his
+programme of education, although no longer applying himself thereto
+exclusively.</p>
+
+<p>
+This long active period was also the most silent period of his life, although not an
+hour, not a minute of his many days was left unoccupied.</p>
+
+<p>
+In the first few months at his new home he resumed his hymn to labour.</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;You will learn in your turn,&quot; he writes to his son Émile, &quot;you will
+learn, I hope, that we are never so happy as when work does not leave us a
+moment's repose. To act is to live.&quot; <a href="#C6-7">(6/7.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+The better to belong to himself, he eluded all invitations, even those from
+his nearest or most intimate friends; he hated to go away even for a few hours,
+preferring to enjoy in his own house their presence amidst his habitual and
+delightful surroundings. Everything in this still unexplored country was new
+to him. What would he do elsewhere, even in his beloved Carpentras, whither
+his faithful friend and pupil Devillario, who had formerly followed him in his
+walks around Avignon, would endeavour from time to time to draw him? Devillario
+was a magistrate, a collector and palaeontologist; his simple tastes, his wide
+culture, and his passion for natural history would surely have decided Fabre
+to accept his invitations, but that he forbade himself the pleasure. &quot;I
+am afraid the hospitable cutlet that awaits me at your table will have time
+to grow cold; I am up to the neck in my work <a href="#C6-8">(6/8.)</a>...But
+you, when you can, escape from your courts, and we will philosophize at random,
+as is our custom when we can manage to pass a few hours together. As for me,
+it is very doubtful whether the temptation will seize me to come to Carpentras.
+A hermit of the Thebaïd was no more diligent in his cell than I in my village
+home.&quot; <a href="#C6-9">(6/9.)</a></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAP07">CHAPTER 7. THE INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.</a></h2>
+
+<p>
+Was there not indeed a sufficiency of captivating matters all about him, and
+beneath his very feet?</p>
+
+<p>
+In his deep, sunny garden a thousand insects fly, creep, crawl, and hum, and each
+relates its history to him. A golden gardener-beetle trots along the path.
+Rose-beetles pass, in snoring flight, on every hand, the gold and emerald of
+their elytra gleaming; now and again one of them alights for a moment on the
+flowering head of a thistle; he seizes it carefully with the tips of his
+nervous, pointed fingers, seems to caress it, speaks to it, and then suddenly
+restores it to freedom.</p>
+
+<p>
+Wasps are pillaging the centauries. On the blossoms of the camomile the larvae of the
+Meloë are waiting for the Anthophorae to carry them off to their cells, while
+around them roam the Cicindelae, their green bodies &quot;spotted with points
+of amaranth.&quot; At the bottom of the walls &quot;the chilly Psyche creeps
+slowly along under her cloak of tiny twigs.&quot; In the dead bough of a
+lilac-tree the dark-hued Xylocopa, the wood-boring bee, is busy tunnelling her
+gallery. In the shade of the rushes the Praying Mantis, rustling the floating
+robe of her long tender green wings, &quot;gazes alertly, on the watch, her
+arms folded on her breast, her appearance that of one praying,&quot; and
+paralyses the great grey locust, nailed to its place by fear.</p>
+
+<p>
+Nothing here is insignificant; what the world would smile at or deride will provide the
+sage with food for thought and reflection. &quot;Nothing is trivial in the
+majestic problem of nature; our laboratory acquaria are of less value than the
+imprint which the shoe of a mule has left in the clay, when the rain has filled
+the primitive basin, and life has peopled it with marvels&quot;; and the least
+fact offered us by chance on the most thoroughly beaten track may possibly open
+prospects as vast as all the starry sky.</p>
+
+<p>
+Tell yourself that everything in nature is a symbol of something like a specimen of
+an abstruse cryptogram, all the characters of which conceal some meaning. But
+when we have succeeded in deciphering these living texts, and have grasped the
+allusion; when, beside the symbol, we have succeeded in finding the commentary,
+then the most desolate corner of the earth appears to the solitary seeker as a
+gallery full of the masterpieces of an unsuspected art. Fabre puts into our
+hands the golden key which opens the doors of this marvellous museum.</p>
+
+<p>
+Let us consider the terebinth louse; it is just a little yellow mite; but is it
+nothing else? Its genealogical history teaches us &quot;by what amazing essays
+of passion and variety the universal law which rules the transmission of life
+is evolved. Here is neither father nor eggs; all these mites are mothers; and
+the young are born living, just like their mothers.&quot; To this end
+&quot;almost the whole of the maternal substance is disintegrated and renewed
+and conglobated to form the ovarium...the whole creature has become an egg,
+which has, for its shell, the dry skin of the tiny creature, and the microscope
+will show a whole world in formation...a nebulosity as of white of egg, in
+which fresh centres of life are forming, as the suns are condensed in the
+nebulae of the heavens.&quot; <a href="#C7-1">(7/1.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+What is this fleck of foam, like a drop of saliva, which we see in springtime on the
+weeds of the meadows; among others on the spurge, when its stems begin to
+shoot, and its sombre flowers open in the sunlight? &quot;It is the work of an
+insect. It is the shelter in which the Cicadellina deposits her eggs. What a
+miraculous chemist! Her stiletto excels the finest craft of the botanical
+anatomist&quot; by its sovereign art of separating the acrid poison which flows
+with the sap in the veins of the most venomous plants, and extracting therefrom
+only an inoffensive fluid. <a href="#C7-2">(7/2.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+At every step the insects set us problems equally varied. The other creatures are
+nearer to us; they resemble us in many respects. But insects, almost the
+first-born of creation, form a world apart, and contain, in their tiny bodies,
+as Réaumur has admirably said, &quot;more parts than the most gigantic
+animals.&quot; They have senses and faculties of their own, which enable them
+to accomplish actions, which are doubtless very simply related in reality, but
+which seem, to our minds, as extraordinary as the habits of the inhabitants of
+Mars might, if by chance they were to descend in our midst. We do not know how
+they hear, nor how they see through their compound eyes, and our ignorance
+concerning the majority of their senses still further increases the difficulty,
+which so often arrests us, of interpreting their actions.</p>
+
+<p>
+The tubercled Cerceris &quot;finds by the hundred&quot; and almost immediately a
+species of weevil, the Cleona ophthalmica, on which it feeds its larvae, and
+which the human eye, though it searches for hours, can scarcely find anywhere.
+The eyes of the Cerceris are like magnifying glasses, veritable microscopes,
+which immediately distinguish, in the vast field of nature, an object that
+human vision is powerless to discover. <a href="#C7-3">(7/3.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+How does the Ammophila, hovering over the turf and investigating it far and wide,
+in its search for a grey grub, contrive to discern the precise point in the
+depth of the subsoil where the larva is slumbering in immobility? &quot;Neither
+touch nor sight can come into play, for the grub is sealed up in its burrow at
+a depth of several inches; nor the scent, since it is absolutely inodorous; nor
+the hearing, since its immobility is absolute during the daytime.&quot; <a href="#C7-4">(7/4.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+The Processional caterpillar of the pine-trees, &quot;endowed with an exquisite
+hygrometric sensibility,&quot; is a barometer more infallible than that of the
+physicists. &quot;It foresees the tempests preparing afar, at enormous
+distances, almost in the other hemisphere,&quot; and announces them several
+days before the least sign of them appears on the horizon. <a href="#C7-5">(7/5.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+A wild bee, the Chalicodoma, and a wasp, the Cerceris, carried in the dark far
+from their familiar pastures, to a distance of several miles, and released in
+spots which they have never seen, cross vast and unknown spaces with absolute
+certainty, and regain their nests; even after long absence, and in spite of
+contrary winds and the most unexpected obstacles. It is not memory that guides
+them, but a special faculty whose astonishing results we must admit without
+attempting to explain them, so far removed are they from our own psychology.
+<a href="#C7-6">(7/6.)</a> But here is another example: </p>
+
+<p>
+The Greater Peacock moths cross hills and valleys in the darkness, with a heavy
+flight of wings spotted with inexplicable hieroglyphics. They hasten from the
+remotest depths of the horizon to find their &quot;sleeping beauties,&quot;
+drawn thereto by unknown odours, inappreciable by our senses, yet so penetrating
+that the branch of almond on which the female has perched, and which she has
+impregnated with her effluvium, exerts the same extraordinary attraction.
+<a href="#C7-7">(7/7.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Considering these creatures, we end by discovering more things than are contained in all
+the philosophies...if we know how to look for them.</p>
+
+<p>
+Among so many unimaginable phenomena, which bewilder us, &quot;because there is
+nothing analogous in us,&quot; we succeed in perceiving, here and there, a few
+glimpses of day, which suddenly throw a singular light upon this black labyrinth,
+in which the least secret we can surprise &quot;enters perhaps more directly
+into the profound enigma of our ends and our origins than the secret of the
+most urgent and most closely studied of our passions.&quot; <a href="#C7-8">(7/8.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre explains by hypnosis one of those curious facts which have hitherto been so
+poorly interpreted. When surprised by abnormal conditions, we see insects
+suddenly fall over, drop to the ground, and lie as though struck by lightning,
+gathering their limbs under their bodies. A shock, an unexpected odour, a loud
+noise, plunges them instantly into a sort of lethargy, more or less prolonged.
+The insect &quot;feigns death,&quot; not because it simulates death, but in
+reality because this <b><i>magnetic</i></b> condition resembles that of death.
+<a href="#C7-9">(7/9.)</a> Now the Odynerus, the Anthidium, the Eucera, the Ammophila,
+and all the hymenoptera which Fabre has observed sleeping at the fall of night,
+&quot;suspended in space solely by the strength of their mandibles, their bodies
+tense, their limbs retracted, without exhaustion or collapse&quot;; and the larva
+of the Empusa, &quot;which for some ten months hangs to a twig by its limbs, head
+downwards&quot;: do not these present a surprising analogy with those
+hypnotized persons who possess the faculty of remaining fixed in the most painful
+poses, and of supporting the most unusual attitudes, for an extremely long
+time; for instance, with one arm extended, or one foot raised from the ground,
+without appearing to experience the least fatigue, and with a persevering and
+unfaltering energy? <a href="#C7-10">(7/10.)</a></p>
+
+
+<p>
+That the ex-schoolmaster was able to penetrate so far into this new world, and that
+he has been able to interest us in so many fascinating problems, was due to the
+fact that he had also &quot;taken a wide bird's-eye view through all the
+windows of creation.&quot; His universal capabilities, his immense culture and
+almost encyclopaedic science have enabled him to utilize, thanks to his
+studies, all the knowledge allied to his subject. He is not one of those who
+understand only their speciality and who, knowing nothing outside their own
+province and their particular labours, refuse to grasp at anything beyond the
+narrow limits within which they stand installed.</p>
+
+<p>
+All plants are to him so familiar that the flowers, for him, assume the airs of
+living persons. But without a profound knowledge of botany, who would hope to
+grasp the profound, perpetual, and intimate relations of the plant and the
+insect?</p>
+
+<p>
+He has turned over strata and interrogated the schistous deposits, whose archives
+preserve the forms of vanished organizations, but &quot;keep silence as to the
+origin of the instincts.&quot; Bending over his reagents, he has sought to
+discover, according to the phrase of a philosopher, those secret retreats in
+which Nature is seated before her furnaces, in the depths of her laboratory;
+following up the metamorphoses of matter even to the wings of the Scarabaei,
+and observing how life, returning to her crucible the debris and ashes of the
+organism, combines the elements anew, and from the elements of the urine can
+derive, for example, by a simple displacement of molecules, &quot;all this
+dazzling magic of colours of innumerable shades: the amethystine violet of
+Geotrupes, the emerald of the rose-beetle, the gilded green of the Cantharides,
+the metallic lustre of the gardener-beetles, and all the pomp of the Buprestes
+and the dung-beetles.&quot; <a href="#C7-11">(7/11.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+His books are steeped in all the ideas of modern physics. The highest mathematical
+knowledge has been referred to with profit in his marvellous description of the
+hunting-net of the Epeïra. Whose &quot;terribly scientific&quot; combinations
+realize &quot;the spiral logarithm of the geometers, so curious in its
+properties&quot; <a href="#C7-12">(7/12.)</a>; a splendid observation, in which Fabre makes us
+admire, in the humble web of a spider, a masterpiece as astonishing and incomprehensible
+as and even more sublime than the honeycomb.</p>
+
+<p>
+This explains why Fabre has always energetically denied that he is properly speaking
+an entomologist; and indeed the term appears often wrongly to describe him. He
+loves, on the contrary, to call himself a naturalist; that is, a biologist;
+biology being, by definition, the study of living creatures considered as a
+whole and from every point of view. And as nothing in life is isolated, as all
+things hold together, and as each part, in all its relations, presents itself
+to the gaze of the observer under innumerable aspects, one cannot be a true
+naturalist without being at the same time a philosopher.</p>
+
+<p>
+But it is not enough to know and to observe.</p>
+
+<p>
+To be admitted to the spectacle of these tiny creatures, to become familiar with
+their habits, to grasp the mysterious threads which connect them one with
+another and with the vast universe: for this the cold and deliberate vision of
+the specialist would often be insufficient. There is an art of observation, and
+the gift of observation is a true function of that constantly alert
+intelligence, continually dominated by the need of delving untiringly down to
+the ultimate truth accessible, &quot;allowing ourselves to pass over nothing
+without seeking its reason, and habitually following up every response with
+another question, until we come to the granite wall of the Unknowable.&quot;
+Above all we need an ardent and interested sympathy, for &quot;we penetrate
+farther into the secret of things by the heart than by the reason,&quot; as Toussenel
+has said; and &quot;it is only by intuition that we can know what life truly
+is,&quot; adds Bergson profoundly. <a href="#C7-13">(7/13.)</a> Now Fabre loves these little peoples
+and knows how to make us love them. How tenderly he speaks of them; with what
+solicitude he observes them; with what love he follows the progress of their
+nurslings; the young grubs wriggling in his test-tubes, with doddering heads,
+are happy; and he himself is happy to see them &quot;well-fed and shining with
+health.&quot; He pities the bee stabbed by the Philanthus &quot;in the holy joys
+of labour.&quot; He sympathizes with the sufferings of these little creatures
+and their hard labours. If, in his search for ideas, he has to overturn their
+dwellings, &quot;he repents of subjecting maternal love to such
+tribulations,&quot; and if he is constrained to put them to the question, to
+torment them in order to extract their secrets, he is grieved to have provoked
+&quot;such miseries!&quot; <a href="#C7-14">(7/14.)</a> Having provided for their needs, and
+satisfied with the secrets which they have revealed to him, it is not without
+regret and difficulty that he parts from them and restores them &quot;to the
+delights of liberty.&quot;</p>
+
+
+<p>
+He is thoroughly convinced, moreover, that all the creatures that share the face
+of the earth with us are accomplishing an august and appointed task. He
+welcomes the swallows to his dwelling, even surrendering his workroom to them,
+at the risk of jeopardizing his notes and books. He pleads for the frog, and
+applies himself to setting forth his unknown qualities; he rehabilitates the
+bat, the hedgehog, and the screech-owl, persecuted, defamed, crushed, stoned,
+and crucified! <a href="#C7-15">(7/15.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+So intimate is the life which he leads among them all that he makes himself truly
+their companion, and relates his own history in narrating theirs; pleased to
+discover in their joys and sorrows his own trials and delights; mingling in
+their annals his memories and his impressions; delightful fragments of a
+childlike autobiography, encrusted in his learned work; moving and delightful
+pages in which all the ingenuity of this noble mind reveals itself with a
+touching sincerity, in which all the freshness of this charming and so
+profoundly unworldly nature is seen as through a pure crystal.</p>
+
+<p>
+There is no real communion with nature without sentiment, without an illuminating
+passion: often the sole and effectual grace which enables its true meaning to
+appear. Neither taste, nor intelligence, nor logic, nor all the science of the
+schools can suffice alone. To see further there is needed something like a gift
+of correspondence, surpassing the limits of observation and experience, which
+enables us to foresee and to divine the profound secrets of life which lie
+beneath appearances. Those who are so gifted have often only to open their eyes
+in order to grasp matters in their true light.</p>
+
+<p>
+A great observer is in reality a poet who imagines and creates. The microscope,
+the magnifying glass, the scalpel, are as it were the strings of a lyre.
+&quot;The felicitous and fruitful hypothesis which constitutes scientific
+invention is a gift of sentiment&quot; in the words of Claude Bernard; and of
+this king of physiology, who commenced by proving himself in works of pure
+imagination, and whose genius finally took for its theme the manifold
+variations of living flesh, of him too may we not say that he has explored the
+labyrinths of life with &quot;the torch of poetry in his hand&quot;?</p>
+
+<p>
+Similarly, do not the harmonious sequences which run through all the admirable discoveries
+of Pasteur give us the sensation of a veritable and gigantic poem?</p>
+
+<p>
+In Fabre also it seems that the passion which he brings to all his patient
+observations is in itself truly creative: &quot;his heart beats with emotion,
+the sweat drips from his brow to the soil, making mortar of the dust&quot;; he
+forgets food and drink, and &quot;thus passes hours of oblivion in the happiness
+of learning.&quot; I have seen him in his laboratory studying the spawning of
+the bluebottle, when I, at his side, could scarcely support the horrible stench
+which rose from the putrefying adders and lumps of meat; he, however, was
+oblivious of the frightful odour, and his face was inundated with smiles of
+delight.</p>
+
+<p>
+Intelligence, then, must here be the servant of feeling and intuition; a kind of primitive
+faculty, mysterious and instinctive, which alone makes a great naturalist like
+Fabre, a great historian like Michelet, a great physician like Boherhaave or
+Bretonneau.</p>
+
+<p>
+These last are not always the most scholarly nor the most learned nor the most
+patient, but they are those who possess in a high degree that special vision,
+that gift, properly speaking poetic, which is known as the clinical eye, which
+at the first glance perceives and confirms the diagnosis in all its detail.</p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre has a mind propitious to such processes; and if, by chance, circumstances had
+directed his attention to medicine, that science which is based upon an
+abundant provision of facts, but in which good sense and a kind of divination
+play a still wider part, there is no doubt that he would have been capable of
+becoming a shining light in this new arena.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+He was full of admiration for that other illustrious Vauclusian, François Raspail
+<a href="#C7-16">(7/16.)</a>, whose medical genius anticipated Pasteur and all the conceptions of
+modern medicine. It would seem that he found in him his own temper, his own
+fashion of seeing and representing things. He loved Raspail's books and his
+prescriptions, full of reason and a most judicious good sense, distrusting for
+himself and for his family the complicated formulae and cunning remedies of an
+art too considered and still unproved. At Carpentras, while his first-born,
+Émile, was hovering between life and death, and the physician who came to see
+him, &quot;being at the end of his resources,&quot; did nothing more for him
+and soon ceased to come, thinking that the child would not last till the
+morrow, Fabre flew to the works of Raspail.</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;I searched to discover what his malady was. I found it, and he was treated day
+and night accordingly. To&#8209;day he is convalescent; and his appetite has
+returned. I believe he is saved, and I shall say, like Ambroise Paré, 'I have
+nursed him; God has cured him.'&quot; <a href="#C7-17">(7/17.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+The episode which he relates, when, at the primary school of Avignon, a retort had
+just burst, &quot;spurting in all directions its contents of vitriol,&quot;
+right in the midst of the suddenly interrupted chemistry lesson, and when,
+thanks to his prompt action, he saved the sight of one of his comrades, does
+honour to his initiative and presence of mind. <a href="#C7-18">(7/18.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+While &quot;all physicians should bow before the facts which he excels in
+discovering&quot; <a href="#C7-19">(7/19.)</a>, he has also been able to make direct application of
+the marvels of entomology to some of the problems of hygiene and medicine. He
+has shown that the irritant poison secreted by certain caterpillars,
+&quot;which sets the fingers which handle them on fire,&quot; is nothing but a
+waste product of the organism, a derivative of uric acid; he does not hesitate
+to perform painful experiments on himself in order to furnish the proof of his
+theory; and he explains thus the curious cases of dermatitis which are often
+observed among silkworm-breeders. <a href="#C7-20">(7/20.)</a> He proves the uselessness of our
+meat-safes of metallic gauze, intended to preserve meat against contamination,
+and the efficacy of a mere envelope of paper, not only to preserve meat from
+flies, but also our garments from the clothes-moth. <a href="#C7-21">(7/21.)</a> He recommends the
+curious Provençal recipe, which consists in boiling suspected mushrooms in salt
+and water before eating them. Finally he suggests to members of the medical
+profession that they might perhaps extract heroic remedies from these
+treacherous vegetables. <a href="#C7-22">(7/22.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+He had need of that indefinite leisure which had hitherto been so wholly lacking,
+for the events of ephemeral lives occur at indeterminate hours, at unexpected
+moments, and are of brief duration.</p>
+
+<p>
+So, attentive to their least movements, Fabre goes forth to observe them at the
+earliest break of day, in the red dawn, when the bee &quot;pops her head out of
+her attic window to see what the weather is,&quot; and the spiders of the
+thickets lie in wait under the whorls of their nets, &quot;which the tears of
+night have changed into chaplets of dewdrops, whose magic jewellery, sparkling
+in the sun,&quot; is already attracting moths and midges.</p>
+
+<p>
+Seated for hours before a sprig of terebinth, his eye, armed with the magnifying
+glass, follows the slow manoeuvres of the terebinth louse, whose proboscis
+&quot;cunningly distils the venom which causes the leaf to swell and produces
+those enormous tumours, those misshapen and monstrous galls, in which the young
+pass their period of slumber.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+He watches at night, by the dim light of a lantern, to copy the Scolopendra at her
+task, seeking to surprise the secret of her eggs <a href="#C7-23">(7/23.)</a>; to observe the Cione
+constructing her capsule of goldbeater's skin, or the Processional caterpillars
+travelling head to tail along their satin trail, extinguishing his candle only
+when sleep at last sets his eyelids blinking. He will wake early to witness the
+fairy-like resurrection of the silkworm moth <a href="#C7-24">(7/24.)</a>; &quot;in order not to
+lose the moment when the nymph bursts her swaddling-bands,&quot; or when the
+wing of the locust issues from its sheath and &quot;commences to sprout&quot;;
+no spectacle in the world is more wonderful than the sight of &quot;this
+extraordinary anatomy in process of formation,&quot; the unrolling of these
+&quot;bundles of tissue, cunningly folded and reduced to the smallest possible
+compass&quot; in the insignificant alar stumps, which gradually unfold
+&quot;like an immense set of sails,&quot; like the &quot;body-linen of the
+princess&quot; of the fairy-tale, which was contained in one single hemp-seed.
+<a href="#C7-25">(7/25.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+In his Harmas he is like a stranger discovering an unknown world; &quot;like a
+kindly giant from Sirius, holding a magnifying glass to his eye, retaining his
+breath, lest it should overturn and sweep away the pigmies which he is
+observing.&quot;</p>
+
+
+<p>
+His passion for interrogating the Sphinx of life, everywhere and at all moments,
+sufficed to fill his days from one end of the year to the other. When some
+distant subject interested him, even on the most scorching days, he would put
+&quot;his lunch in his pocket, an apple and a crust of bread,&quot; and sit out
+in the hot sunlight, accompanied by his dog, Vasco, Tom, or Rabbit; fearing
+only that some importunate third person might come between nature and himself.</p>
+
+<p>
+When he walked in his garden he would let nothing escape him; witness those precise
+notes of an eclipse of the sun, and of the effects which that phenomenon
+produces upon animal life as a whole.</p>
+
+<p>
+While his children followed the progress of the moon across the sun through a pane of
+smoked glass, he attentively observed all that occurred in the countryside.</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;It is four; the day grows pale; the temperature is fresher; the cocks crow,
+surprised by this kind of twilight which comes before the hour. A few dogs are
+baying...The swallows, numerous before, have all disappeared...a couple have
+taken refuge in my study, one window of which is open...when the normal light
+returns they will come outdoors once more...The nightingale, which had so long
+importuned me by his interminable song, is silent at last <a href="#C7-26">(7/26.)</a>; the
+black-capped skylarks, which were warbling continually, are suddenly still...only
+the young house-sparrows under the tiles of the roof are mournfully
+chirping...Peace and silence, the daylight more than half gone...In the Harmas
+I can no longer see the insects flying; I find only one bee pillaging the
+rosemary; all life has disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;Only a weevil, the Lixus,&quot; which he is observing in a cage, &quot;continues,
+step by step, without the slightest emotion, his amorous by-play, as though
+nothing unusual were happening...The nightingale and the skylark may be silent,
+oppressed by fear; the bee may re-enter her hive; but is a weevil to be upset
+because the sun threatens to go out?&quot; <a href="#C7-27">(7/27.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+He was no less curious concerning the resurrection of the sun, and every time he
+made an excursion to the Ventoux he was careful not to miss this spectacle;
+setting out at an early hour from the foot of the mountain, so that he might
+see the dawn grow bright from the summit of its rocky mass; then the sun,
+suddenly rising in the morning breeze, and setting fire, little by little, to
+the Alps of Dauphiné and the hills of Comtat; and the Rhône, far below, slender
+as a silver thread.</p>
+
+<p>
+He took infinite pleasure too in drinking his fill of the sublime terrors of the
+thunderstorm, which he regarded as one of the most magnificent spectacles which
+nature can offer; not content with observing it through glass, he would open
+wide the windows at night the better to enjoy the phosphorescence of the
+atmosphere, the conflagration of the clouds, the bursts of thunder, and all the
+solemn pomp with which the great purifying phenomenon manifests itself.</p>
+
+<p>
+But pure observation, as practised by his predecessors, Réaumur and Huber, is often
+insufficient, or &quot;furnishes only a glimpse of matters.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+He had recourse, therefore, to artificial observation of the kind known as experimentation,
+and we may say that Fabre was really the first to employ the experimental
+method in the study of the minds of animals.</p>
+
+<p>
+Near the field of observation, therefore, is the naturalist's workshop, &quot;the
+animal laboratory,&quot; in which such inductions as may be suggested by the
+doings and the movements of the insects &quot;which roam at liberty amidst the
+thyme and lavender&quot; are subjected to the test of experiment. It is a
+great, silent, isolated room, brilliantly lighted by two windows facing south,
+upon the garden, one at least of which is always kept open that the insects may
+come and go at liberty.</p>
+
+<p>
+In the glass-topped boxes of pine which occupy almost the entire height of the
+whitewashed walls are carefully arranged the collections so patiently amassed;
+all the entomological fauna of the South of France, and the sea-shells of the
+Mediterranean; an abundant wealth also of divers rarities; numismatical
+treasures and fragments of pottery and other prehistorical documents, of which
+the numerous ossuaries in the neighbourhood of Sérignan, scattered here and
+there upon the hills, contain many specimens.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+At the top, crowning the facade of glass-topped cases like an immense frieze, is
+the colossal herbarium, the first volumes of which go back to the early youth
+of their owner; all the flora, both of the Midi and the North, those of the
+plains and those of the mountains, and all the algae of fresh and salt water.</p>
+
+<p>
+But it must not be supposed that Fabre attaches any great value to these
+collections, enormous though the sum of labour which they represent. To him
+they have been a means of education, a means of organizing and arranging his
+knowledge, and not of satisfying an idle curiosity; not the amusement of one
+content with the rind of things. In order to identify at first sight such
+specimens as one encounters and proposes to examine, one must first of all
+learn to observe and to see thoroughly, and to school the eyes in the colours
+and forms peculiar to each individual species.</p>
+
+<p>
+One may fairly complain of Réaumur, for example, that his knowledge was uncertain
+and incomplete. Too often he leaves his readers undecided as to the nature of
+the species whose habits he describes. Fabre himself, by dint of criticizing
+with so much humour the abuse of classifications, has sometimes allowed himself
+to fall into the same fault. <a href="#C7-28">(7/28.)</a> He has taken good care, however, not to
+neglect the systematic study of species; witness his &quot;Flora of the
+Vaucluse&quot; and that careful catalogue of Avignon which he has not disdained
+to republish. <a href="#C7-29">(7/29.)</a> The truth is that &quot;if we do not know their names the
+knowledge of the things escapes us&quot; <a href="#C7-30">(7/30.)</a>, and he was profoundly
+conscious of the truth of this precept of the great Linnaeus.</p>
+
+<p>
+The middle of the room is entirely occupied by a great table of walnut-wood, on
+which are arranged bottles, test-tubes, and old sardine-boxes, which Fabre
+employs in order to watch the evolution of a thousand nameless or doubtful
+eggs, to observe the labours of their larvae, the creation and the hatching of
+cocoons, and the little miracles of metamorphosis, &quot;after a germination
+more wonderful than that of the acorn which makes the oak.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Covers of metallic gauze resting on earthenware saucers full of sand, a few carboys
+and flower-pots or sweetmeat jars closed with a square of glass; these serve as
+observation or experimental cages in which the progress and the actions of
+&quot;these tiny living machines&quot; can be examined.</p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre has revealed himself as a psychologist without rival, of a consummate skill in
+the difficult and delicate art of experimentation; the art of making the insect
+speak, of putting questions to it, of forcing it to betray its secrets; for
+experiment is &quot;the only method which can throw any light upon the nature
+of instincts.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+His resources being slender and his mind inventive, he has ingeniously supplemented
+the poverty of his equipment, and has discovered less costly and less complex
+means of conducting his experiments; knowing the secret of extracting the
+sublimest truth from clumsy combinations of &quot;trivial, peasant-made
+articles.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+He has succeeded, in his rustic laboratory, in applying the rigorous rules of
+investigation and experimentation established by the great biologists. He has
+therefore been able to establish his beautiful observations in a manner so
+indisputable that those who come after him and are tempted to study the same
+things can but arrive at the same results, and derive inspiration from his
+researches.</p>
+
+<p>
+To note with care all the details of a phenomenon is the first essential, so that
+others may afterwards refer to them and profit by them; the difficult thing is
+to interpret them, to discover the circumstances, the whys and wherefores, the
+consequences, and the connecting links.</p>
+
+<p>
+But a single fact observed by chance at the wayside, and which would not even
+attract the attention of another, will be instantly luminous to this searching
+understanding, it will suggest questions unforeseen, and will evoke, by
+anticipation, preconceived ideas and sudden flashes of intuition, which will
+necessitate the test of experiment.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+Why, for example, does the Philanthus, that slender wasp, which captures the
+honey-bee upon the blossoms in order to feed her larvae; why, before she
+carries her prey to her offspring, does she &quot;outrage the dying
+insect,&quot; by squeezing its crop in order to empty it of honey, in which she
+appears to delight, and does indeed actually delight?</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;The bandit greedily takes in her mouth the extended and sugared tongue of the dead
+insect; then once more she presses the neck and the thorax, and once more
+applies the pressure of her abdomen to the honey-sac of the bee. The honey
+oozes forth and is instantly licked up. Thus the bee is gradually compelled to
+disgorge the contents of the crop. This atrocious meal lasts often half an hour
+and longer, until the last trace of honey has disappeared.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+The detailed answer is obtained by experiment, which perfectly explains this
+&quot;odious feast,&quot; the excuse for which is simply maternity. The
+Philanthus knows, instinctively, without having learned it, that honey, which
+is her ordinary fare, is, by a very singular &quot;inversion,&quot; a mortal
+poison to her larvae. <a href="#C7-31">(7/31.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+As an accomplished physiologist, Fabre conducts all kinds of experiments. Behind
+the wires of his cages, he provokes the moving spectacle of the scorpion at
+grip with the whole entomological fauna, in order to test the effects of its
+terrible venom upon various species; and thus he discovers the strange immunity
+of larvae; the virus, &quot;the reagent of a transcendent chemistry,
+distinguishes the flesh of the larva from that of the adult; it is harmless to
+the former, but mortal to the latter&quot;; a fresh proof that
+&quot;metamorphosis modifies the substance of the organism to the point of
+changing its most intimate properties.&quot; <a href="#C7-32">(7/32.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+You may judge from this that he knows through and through the history of the
+creatures which form the subjects of his faithful narratives. He is informed of
+the smallest events of their lives. He possesses a calendar of their births; he
+records their chronology and the succession of generations; he has noted their
+methods of work, examined their diet, and recorded their meals. He discovers
+the motives which dictate their peculiarities of choice; why the Cerceris, for
+instance, among all the victims at its disposal, never selects anything but the
+Buprestis and the weevils. He is familiar too with their tactics of warfare and
+their methods of conflict.</p>
+
+<p>
+His gaze has penetrated even the most hidden dwellings; those in which the Halictus
+&quot;varnishes her cells and makes the round loaf which is to receive the
+egg&quot;; in which, under the cover of cocoons, murderous grubs devour
+slumbering nymphs; even the depths of the soil are not hidden from him, for
+there, thanks to his artifices, he has surprised the astonishing secret of the
+Minotaur.</p>
+
+<p>
+He sifts all doubtful stories; anecdotes, statements of supposed habits; all that
+is incoherent, or ill observed, or misinterpreted; all the cliches which the
+makers of books pass from hand to hand.</p>
+
+<p>
+In place of repetition he gives us laws, constant facts, fixed rules.</p>
+
+<p>
+With incomparable skill, he repeats and tests the ancient experiments of Réaumur.</p>
+
+<p>
+He is not content to show us that Erasmus Darwin is mistaken; he points out how it
+is that he has fallen into error. <a href="#C7-33">(7/33.)</a></p>
+
+
+<p>
+He sets himself to decipher the meaning of old tales, skilfully disengaging the
+little parcel of truth which usually lies beneath a mass of incorrect or even
+false statements. He criticises La Fontaine, and questions the statements of
+Horus Apollo and Pliny. From a mass of undigested knowledge he has created the
+living science of entomology, which had received from Réaumur a first breath of
+vitality, in such wise that each individual creature is presented in his work
+with its precise expression and the absolute truth of its character and
+attitudes; the inhabitants of the woods and fields, whether those which feed
+upon the crops or those which live in the crevices of the rocks, or the obscure
+workers that crawl upon the earth; all those which have a secret to tell or
+something to teach us; the Cigale, so different from the insect of the Fable;
+and above all that beetle whose name had hitherto been encountered arrayed in
+the most fantastic legends, the famous Scarabaeus sacer of the tombs, which
+Fabre preferred to place at the head of his epic as an agreeable prologue,
+although the inquiry relative to his amazing feats belongs chronologically to a
+comparatively recent period of his career.</p>
+
+<p>
+How moderate he is in such suppositions as he ventures; how cautious when his
+persistent patience has at last struck against &quot;the inaccessible wall of
+the Unknowable&quot;! Then, with admirable frankness, tranquil and sincere, he
+simply owns that &quot;he does not know,&quot; unlike so many others, whose
+uncritical minds are contented with a fragmentary vision, and run so far ahead
+of the facts that they can only promote indefinite illusion and error.</p>
+
+<p>
+One is surprised indeed to remark how few even of the most learned and
+well-informed of men have a real aptitude for observation, and a highly
+instructive book might be written concerning the discrepancies and the weak
+points in our knowledge. If they were subjected to a sufficiently severe test,
+how threadbare would appear many of those problems which nature and the world
+present, and which are regarded as resolved!</p>
+
+<p>
+How long, for instance, was needed to destroy the legend of the cuckoo, incessantly
+repeated down to the days of Xavier Raspail, and to us so familiar; to
+elucidate its history, and to set it in its true light! <a href="#C7-34">(7/34.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+It is by means of such data as these that a science is founded, for theories
+decay, and only well-observed facts remain irrefragable. With stones such as
+these, which are hewn by the great artisan, the structures of the future will
+be built, and our own science, perhaps, will one day be refashioned.</p>
+
+<p>
+For this reason Fabre's books are an education for all those who wish to devote
+themselves to observation; a manual of mental discipline, a true &quot;essay
+upon method,&quot; which should be read by every naturalist, and the most
+interesting, instructive, familiar and delightful course of training that has
+ever been known.</p>
+
+<p>
+On the other hand, it is impossible to conceive what labour this delicate work
+demands; what perseverance Fabre has required painfully to extract one grain of
+gold; to glean and unite the definite factors, the positive documents, which
+served as foundations for each of his essays; lucid, limpid, and captivating as
+the most delightful of fairy-tales. We are charmed, fascinated, and astonished;
+we see nothing of the groping advance, the checks, and all the toil and the
+patience demanded. We do not suspect the long waiting, the hesitation, the
+desperate length of the inquiries. For example, to establish the curious
+relations which exist between the wasps and the Volucellae, what long and repeated
+experiments were needful! His notebooks, in which he records, from day to day,
+all that he sees, are evidence of this. What watches in the alley of lilacs,
+year after year, to decipher the mechanism and the mode of construction of the
+hunting-net of the Epeïra! Some of these histories, like that of the
+hyper-metamorphosis of the Meloë, were only completed as the result of
+twenty-five years of assiduous inquiry, while forty years were required to
+complete that of the Scarabaeus sacer, for his observation of it was always
+partial; it is almost always impossible to divine what one cannot see from the
+little that one does see; and as a rule one must return to the same point over
+and over again in order to fill up lacunae.</p>
+
+<p>
+The majority of the insects which Fabre has studied are solitary, and are only to
+be encountered singly, scattered over wide areas of country. Some live only in
+determined spots, and not elsewhere, such as the famous Cerceris, or the
+yellow-winged Sphex, of which no trace is to be found beyond the limits of the
+Carpentras countryside.</p>
+
+<p>
+The proper season must be watched for; one must be ready at any moment to profit by
+a lucky chance, and resign oneself to interminable watches at the bottom of a
+ravine, or keep on the alert for hours under a fiery sun. Often the chance goes
+by, or the trail followed proves false; but the season is over, and one must
+wait for the return of another spring. The trade of observer in many cases
+resembles the exhausting labours of the Sisyphus beetle, painfully pushing his
+pellet up a rough and stony path; so that the team halts and staggers at every
+moment, the load spills over and rolls away, and all has to be commenced over
+again.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+We can now cast back, in order to consider at leisure the immortal study which marked
+the beginning of his fame, with the greater interest and profit in that Fabre
+has been able, during his retirement, to generalize and extend his discovery.
+<a href="#C7-35">(7/35.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Let us first of all note how the observation which Dufour had made of the nest of
+the Cerceris was transformed in his hands, and what developments he was able to
+evolve therefrom.</p>
+
+<p>
+Since they have been definitely established by Fabre these curious facts have been
+well-known. They form perhaps the greatest prodigy presented by entomology, that
+science so full of marvels.</p>
+
+<p>
+These wasps nourish themselves only on the nectar of flowers; but their larvae, which
+they will never behold, must have fresh and succulent flesh still palpitating
+with life.</p>
+
+<p>
+The insect digs a tunnel in the soil, in which she places her eggs, and having
+provisioned the cell with selected game--cricket, spider, caterpillar, or
+beetle--she finally closes the entrance, which she does not again cross.</p>
+
+<p>
+Like nearly all insects, the young wasp is born in the larval state, and from the
+moment of its hatching to the end of its growth--that is to say, for a period
+of many days--the grub enclosed in its cell can look for no help from without.</p>
+
+<p>
+Here then is a fascinating problem: either the victims deposited by the mother are
+dead, and desiccation or putrefaction attacks them promptly, or else they are
+living, as indeed the larvae require; but then &quot;what will become of this
+fragile creature, which a mere nothing will destroy, shut in the narrow chamber
+of the burrow among vigorous beetles, for weeks on end working their long
+spurred legs; or at grips with a monstrous caterpillar making play with its
+flanks and mandibles, rolling and unrolling its tortuous folds?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Such is the thrilling mystery of which Fabre discovered the key.</p>
+
+<p>
+With inconceivable ingenuity, the victim is seized and thrown to the ground, and the
+wasp plunges her sting, not at random into the body, which would involve the
+risk of death, but at determined points, exactly into the seat of those
+invisible nervous ganglions whose mechanism commands the various movements of
+the creature.</p>
+
+<p>
+Immediately after these subtle wounds the prey is paralysed throughout its body; its
+members appear to be disarticulated, &quot;as though all the springs were
+broken&quot;; the true corpse is not more motionless.</p>
+
+<p>
+But the wound is not mortal; not only does the insect continue to live, but it has
+acquired the strange prerogative of being able to live for a very long period
+without taking any nourishment, thanks precisely to the condition of
+immobility, in some sort vegetative, which paralysis confers upon it.</p>
+
+<p>
+When the hour strikes the hungry larva will find its favourite meat served to its
+liking; and it will attack this defenceless prey with all the circumspection of
+a refined eater; &quot;with an exquisitely delicate art, nibbling the viscera
+of its victim little by little, with an infallible method; the less essential
+parts first of all, and only in the last instance those which are necessary to
+life. Here then is an incomprehensible spectacle; the spectacle of an animal
+which, eaten alive, mouthful by mouthful, during nearly a fortnight, is
+hollowed out, grows less and less, and finally collapses,&quot; while retaining
+to the end its succulence and its freshness.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+The fact is that the mother has taken care to deposit her egg &quot;at a point
+always the same&quot; in the region which her sting has rendered insensible, so
+that the first mouthfuls are only feebly resented. But as the enemy goes deeper
+and deeper &quot;it sometimes happens that the cricket, bitten to the quick,
+attempts to retaliate; but it only succeeds in opening and closing the pincers
+of its mandibles on the empty air, or in uselessly waving its antennae.&quot;
+Vain efforts: &quot;for now the voracious beast has bitten deep into the spot,
+and can with impunity ransack the entrails.&quot; What a slow and horrible
+agony for the paralysed victim, should some glimmer of consciousness still
+linger in its puny brain! What a terrible nightmare for the little
+field-cricket, suddenly plunged into the den of the Sphex, so far from the
+sunlit tuft of thyme which sheltered its retreat!</p>
+
+<p>
+To paralyse without killing, &quot;to deliver the prey to the larvae inert but
+living&quot;: that is the end to be attained; only the method varies according
+to the species of the hunter and the structure of the prey; thus the Cerceris,
+which attacks the coleoptera, and the Scolia, which preys upon the larvae of
+the rose-beetle, sting them only once and in a single place, because there is
+concentrated the mass of the motor ganglions.</p>
+
+<p>
+The Pompilus, which selects a spider for its victim, no less than the redoubtable
+Tarantula, knows that its quarry &quot;has two nervous centres which animate
+respectively the movements of the limbs and those of the terrible fangs; hence
+the two stabs of the sting.&quot; <a href="#C7-36">(7/36.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+The Sphex plunges her dagger three times into the breast of the cricket, because
+she knows, by an intuition that we cannot comprehend, that the locomotor
+innervation of the cricket is actuated by three nervous centres, which lie wide
+apart. <a href="#C7-37">(7/37.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Finally, the Ammophila, &quot;the highest manifestation of the logic of instinct, whose
+profound knowledge leaves us confounded, stabs the caterpillar in nine places,
+because the body of the victim with which it feeds its larvae is a series of
+rings, set end to end, each of which possesses its little independent nervous
+centre.&quot; <a href="#C7-38">(7/38.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+This is not all; the genius of the Sphex is not yet at the end of its foresight. You
+have doubtless heard of the comatose state into which the wounded fall when,
+after a fracture of the skull, the brain is compressed by a violent haemorrhage
+or a bony splinter. The physiologists imitate this process of nature when they
+wish, for example, to obtain, in animals under experiment, a state of complete
+immobility. But did the first surgeon who thought of trepanning the skull in
+order to exert on the brain, by means of a sponge, a certain degree of
+compression, ever imagine that an analogous procedure had long been employed in
+the insect world, and that these clumsy methods were merely child's play beside
+the astonishing feats of the Unconscious?</p>
+
+<p>
+For the stab in the thoracic ganglions, however efficacious, is often insufficient.
+Although the six limbs are paralysed, although the victim cannot move, its
+mandibles, &quot;pointed, sharp, serrated, which close like a pair of scissors,
+still remain a menace to the tyrant; they might at least, by gripping the
+surrounding grasses, oppose a more or less effectual resistance to the process
+of carrying off.&quot; So the preceding manoeuvres are consummated by a kind of
+garrotting; that is, the insect &quot;takes care to compress the brain of its
+victim, but so as to avoid wounding it; producing only a stupor, a simple
+torpor, a passing lethargy.&quot; Is not the ingenious observer justified in
+concluding that &quot;this is alarmingly scientific&quot;?</p>
+
+<p>
+Between the dry statements of Dufour, which served Fabre as his original theme, and the
+unaccustomed wealth of this vast physiological poetry, what a distance has been
+covered!</p>
+
+<p>
+How far have we outstripped this barren matter, these shapeless sketches! Dufour,
+another solitary, who retired to his province, in the depth of the Landes, was
+above all a descriptive anatomist, and he limited himself to an inventory of
+the nest of a Cerceris.</p>
+
+<p>
+For him the Buprestes were dead, and their state of preservation was explained
+simply as a kind of embalming, due to some special action of the venom of the
+Hymenoptera.</p>
+
+<p>
+These facts, therefore, were stated as simple curiosities.</p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre proved that these victims possessed all the attributes of life excepting
+movement, by provoking contractions in their members under the influence of
+various stimulants, and by keeping them alive artificially for an indefinite
+period.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+On the other hand, he demonstrated the comparative innocuousness of the venom of
+these wasps, some of which, like the great Cerceris or the beautiful and
+formidable Scolia, alarm by their enormous size and their terrifying aspect; so
+that the conservation of the prey could not be due to any occult quality, to
+some more or less active antiseptic virtue of the venomous fluid, but simply to
+the precision of the stab and the miraculous deftness of the
+&quot;surgeon.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+He also pointed out the fact that the sting of the insect is able immediately to
+dissociate the nervous system of the vegetative life from that of the
+correlative life, sparing the former, and taking care not to wound the abdomen,
+which contains the ganglions of the great sympathetic nerve, while it
+annihilates the latter, which is more or less concentrated along the ventral
+face of the thoracic region.</p>
+
+<p>
+He completed this splendid demonstration, not only by provoking under his
+own eyes the &quot;murderous manoeuvres, the intimate and passionate drama,&quot;
+but also by reproducing experimentally all these astonishing phenomena; expounding
+their mechanism and their variations with a logic and lucidity, an art and sagacity
+which raise this marvellous observation, one of the most beautiful known to
+science, to the height of the most immortal discoveries of physiology. Claude
+Bernard, in his celebrated experiments, certainly exhibited no greater invention,
+no truer genius.</p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAP08">CHAPTER 8. THE MIRACLE OF INSTINCT.</a></h2>
+
+<p>
+&quot;The Spirit Bloweth Whither it Listeth.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+What is this instinct, which guides the insect to such marvellous results? Is it
+merely a degree of intelligence, or some absolutely different form of activity?</p>
+
+<p>
+Is it possible, by studying the habits of animals, to discover some of those
+elementary springs of action whose knowledge would enable us to dive more
+deeply into our own natures?</p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre has presented us to his Sphex, the &quot;infallible paralyser.&quot; Are we to
+credit her not only with memory, but also with the faculty of associating
+ideas, of judgment, and of pursuing a train of reasoning in respect of her
+astonishingly co-ordinated actions?</p>
+
+<p>
+Put to the question by the malice of the operator, the &quot;transcendent&quot;
+anatomist trips over a mere trifle, and the slightest novelty confounds her.</p>
+
+<p>
+Without the circle of her ordinary habits, what stupidity, &quot;what darkness wraps
+her round&quot;! She retreats; she refuses to understand; &quot;she washes her
+eyes, first passing her hands across her mouth; she assumes a dreamy,
+meditative air.&quot; What can she be pondering? Under what form of thought,
+illusion, or mirage does the unfamiliar problem which has obtruded itself into
+her customary life present itself behind those faceted eyes? <a href="#C8-1">(8/1.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+How can we tell? We can only attain to knowledge of ourselves by direct intuition.
+It is only the idea of our ego which enables us to conjecture what is passing
+in the brains of our fellows. Between the insect and ourselves no understanding
+is possible, so remote are the analogies between its organization and our own;
+and we can only form idle hypotheses as to its states of consciousness and the
+real motive of its actions.</p>
+
+<p>
+Consider only that unknown and mysterious energy which the insects display in their
+operations and their labours, as it is in itself, and let us content ourselves,
+first of all, with comparing it to our own intelligence, such as we conceive it
+to be.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+In seeking to appreciate whereby it differs perhaps we shall gain more than by
+vainly seeking points of resemblance. We shall discover, in fact, behind the
+insect and its prodigious instincts, a vast and remote horizon, a region at
+once more profound, more extensive, and more fruitful than that of the intelligence;
+and if Fabre is able to help us to decipher a few pages of &quot;the most
+difficult of all volumes, the book of ourselves,&quot; it is precisely, as a
+philosopher told him, because &quot;man has remained instinctive in process of
+becoming intelligent.&quot; <a href="#C8-2">(8/2.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+The work of Fabre is from this point of view an invaluable treasury of observations
+and experiments, and the richest contribution which has ever been made to the
+study of these fascinating problems.</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;The function of the intelligence is to reflect, to be conscious; that is, to relate
+the effect to its cause, to add a &quot;because&quot; to a &quot;why&quot;; to
+remedy the accidental; to adapt a new course of conduct to new
+circumstances.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+In relation to the human intelligence thus defined Fabre has considered these
+nervous aptitudes, so well adjusted, according to the evolutionists, by ancient
+habit, that they have finally become impulsive and unconscious, and, properly
+speaking, innate. He has demonstrated, with an abundance of proof and a power
+of argument that we must admire, the blind mechanism which determines all the
+manifestations, even the most extraordinary, of that which we call instinct,
+and which heredity has fixed in a species of unchangeable automatism, like the
+rhythm of the heart and the lungs. <a href="#C8-3">(8/3.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Let us, from this wealth of material, from among the most suggestive examples,
+select some of his most striking demonstrations, which are classics of their
+kind.</p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre has not attempted to define instinct, for it is indefinable; nor to probe its
+essential nature, which is impenetrable. But to recognize the order of nature
+is in itself a sufficiently fascinating study, without striving to crack an
+unbreakable bone or wasting time in pondering insoluble enigmas. The important
+matter is to avoid the introduction of illusions, to beware of exceeding the
+data of observation and experiment, of substituting our own inferences for the
+facts, of outstripping reality and amplifying the marvellous.</p>
+
+<p>
+Let us listen to the scrupulous analysis whose lessons, scattered through four
+thousand pages, teach us more concerning instinct and its innumerable
+variations than all the most learned treatises and speculations of the
+philosophers.</p>
+
+<p>
+Nothing in the world perplexes the mind of the observer like the spectacle of the birth
+and growth of the instincts.</p>
+
+<p>
+At precisely the right moment, just as failure or disaster seems foreordained by
+the previously established circumstances, Fabre shows us his insects as
+suddenly mastered by an irresistible force.</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;At the right moment&quot; they invincibly obey some sort of mysterious and
+inflexible prescription. Without apprenticeship, they perform the very actions
+required, and blindly accomplish their destiny.</p>
+
+<p>
+Then, the moment having passed, the instincts &quot;disappear and do not reawaken. A
+few days more or less modify the talents, and what the young insect knew the
+adult has often forgotten.&quot; <a href="#C8-4">(8/4.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Among the Lycosae, at the moment of exodus, a sudden instinct is evolved which a few
+hours later disappears never to return. It is the climbing instinct, unknown to
+the adult spider, and soon forgotten by the emancipated young, who are destined
+to roam upon the face of the earth. But the young Lycosae, anxious to leave the
+maternal home and to travel, become suddenly ardent climbers and aeronauts,
+each releasing a long, light thread which serves it as parachute. The voyage
+accomplished, no trace of this ingenuity is left. Suddenly acquired, the
+climbing instinct no less suddenly disappears. <a href="#C8-5">(8/5.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+The great historiographer of instinct has thrown a wonderful light, by his
+beautiful experiments relating to the nidification of the mason-bee, upon the
+indissoluble succession of its different phases; the lineal concatenation, the
+inevitable and necessary order which presides over each of these nervous
+discharges of which the total series constitutes, properly speaking, a mode of
+action.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+The mason-bee continues to build upon the ready-completed nest presented to her.
+She obstinately insists upon provisioning a cell already duly filled with the
+quantity of honey required by the larva, because, in this case as in the other,
+the impulse which incites her to build or to provision the nest has not yet
+been exhausted.</p>
+
+<p>
+On the other hand, if we empty the little cup of its contents when she has filled
+it she will not recommence her labours. &quot;The process of provisioning being
+complete, the secret impulse which urged her to collect her honey is no longer
+active. The insect therefore ceases to store her honey, and, in spite of this
+accident, lays her egg in the empty cell, thus leaving the future nursling
+without nourishment.&quot; <a href="#C8-6">(8/6.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+In the case of the Pelopaeus, Fabre calls our attention to one of the most
+instructive physiological spectacles that can be imagined.</p>
+
+<p>
+While the mason-bee does not notice that her cell has been emptied, the Pelopaeus
+cannot perceive that the tricks of the experimenter have resulted in the
+disappearance of her progeny; and she &quot;continues to store away spiders for
+a germ that no longer exists; she perseveres untiringly in her useless hunting,
+as though the future of her larva depended on it; she amasses provisions which
+will feed no one; more, she pushes aberration to the extent of plastering even
+the place where her nest was if we remove it, giving the last strokes of the
+trowel to an imaginary building, and putting her seals upon empty
+nothing.&quot; <a href="#C8-7">(8/7.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+From these facts, and others, no less celebrated, which show &quot;the inability of
+insects to escape from the routine of their customs and their habitual
+labours,&quot; Fabre derives so many proofs of their lack of intelligence.</p>
+
+<p>
+The Epeïra fasciata is incapable of replacing a single radial thread in the
+geometrical structure of its web, when broken; it recommences the entire web
+every evening, and weaves it at one stretch with the most beautiful mastery, as
+though merely amusing itself.</p>
+
+<p>
+The caterpillar of the Greater Peacock moth teaches us the same lesson; when
+occupied in weaving its cocoon it does not know how to repair an artificial
+rent; and &quot;in spite of the certainty of its death, or rather that of the
+future butterfly, it quietly continues to spin, without troubling to cover the
+rent; devoting itself to a superfluous task, and ignoring the treacherous
+breach, which leaves the cocoon and its inhabitant at the mercy of the first
+thief that finds it.&quot; <a href="#C8-8">(8/8.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Thus &quot;because one action has just been performed, another must inevitably be
+performed to complete the first; what is done is done, and is never repeated.
+Like the watercourse, which cannot climb the hills and return to its source,
+the insect does not retrace its steps or repeat its actions, which follow one
+another invariably, and are inevitably connected in a necessary order, like a
+series of echoes, one of which awakens another...The insect knows nothing of
+its marvellous talents, just as the stomach knows nothing of its cunning
+chemistry. It builds like a bricklayer, weaves, hunts, stabs, and paralyses, as
+it secretes the venom of its weapons, the silk of its cocoon, the wax of its
+comb, or the threads of its web; always without the slightest knowledge of the
+means and the end.&quot; <a href="#C8-9">(8/9.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Thus instinct is one thing and intelligence is another; and for Fabre there is no
+transition which can transform the one into the other.</p>
+
+<p>
+But how profound and abundant, how infinite is the source from which this manifold
+activity derives, distributed as it is throughout the entire animal kingdom;
+and which in ourselves commands the profoundest part of our nature;
+unconscious, or even in opposition to our wonderful intelligence, which it
+often silences or altogether overwhelms.</p>
+
+<p>
+Although the insect &quot;has no need of lessons from its elders&quot; in order to
+accomplish its beautiful masterpieces, the comprehensive concept of the genius
+which rises spontaneously and at a single step to the loftiest conceptions is
+not always a product of pure reason.</p>
+
+<p>
+Compare the sublime logic of animal maternity, the impeccable dictates of instinct,
+with the hesitations, the gropings, the uncertainties, the errors and tragic
+failures of human maternity, when it seeks to replace the unerring commands of
+instinct by the clumsy efforts of the intelligence!</p>
+
+
+<p>
+If all is darkness to the animal, apart from its habitual paths, how feeble and
+hesitating, how faltering and unequal is reason when it seeks to oppose its
+laborious inductions to the infallible wisdom of the unconscious!</p>
+
+<p>
+It is, in fact, to this concatenation of actions, narrowly connected by a mutual
+dependence, that we owe this inexhaustible series of cunning industries and
+wonderful arts. To Fabre they are so many feats of a learned unconsciousness.</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;See the nest, the accustomed masterpiece of mothers; it is more often than
+otherwise an animal fruit, a coffer full of germs, containing eggs in place of
+seeds.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+The satin bag of the Epeïra fasciata, in which her eggs are enclosed, &quot;breaks
+at the caress of the sun, like the skin of an over-ripe pomegranate.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+The Dorthesia, the louse inhabiting the euphorbia, &quot;trebles the length of her
+body, prolonging its hinder part into a pouch, comparable to that of the
+opossum, into which the eggs are dropped, and in which the young are hatched,
+to leave it afterwards at will.&quot; <a href="#C8-10">(8/10.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+The Chermes of the ilex &quot;hardens into a rampart of ebony, whence an
+innumerable legion of vermin bursts forth one day without changing their
+place.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+The capsule of gold-beater's skin, in which the grubs of the Cione are enclosed,
+divides itself, at the moment of liberation, into two hemispheres &quot;of a
+regularity so perfect that they recall exactly the bursting of the pyxidium
+when the seed is distributed.&quot; <a href="#C8-11">(8/11.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Here and there, however, we catch a glimpse of a rudiment of what we understand by
+consciousness, in the shape of a &quot;vague discrimination.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Each plant has its lover, drawn to it by a kind of elective affinity and invariable
+tendency. The Larra makes for the thistle, the Vanessa for the nettle, the
+Clytus for the ilex, and the Crioceris for the lily. &quot;The weevil knows
+nothing but its peas and beans, the golden Rhynchites only the sloe, and the
+Balaninus only the nut or acorn.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+But the Pieris, which haunts the cabbage, frequents the nasturtium also, and the
+golden rose-beetle, which &quot;intoxicates itself at the clusters of the
+hawthorn,&quot; is no less addicted to the nectar of the rose.</p>
+
+<p>
+The Xylocopa, which burrows in the trunks of trees and old rafters, forming little
+round corridors in which to lodge her offspring, &quot;will utilize artificial
+galleries which she has not herself bored.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+The Chalicodoma &quot;also is aware of the economic advantages of an old abandoned
+nest&quot;; the Anthophora is careful to establish her family &quot;at the
+least expense,&quot; and profits on occasion by galleries which have been mined
+by previous generations; adapting herself to these new conditions, she repairs
+the tunnels which she did not construct &quot;and economizes her forces.&quot;
+<a href="#C8-12">(8/12.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+It would seem, therefore, that these tiny minds are created and shaped by means of
+experience; they recognize &quot;that which is most fitting&quot;; they learn,
+they compare; may we not also say that they judge?</p>
+
+<p>
+Does not the Mason-bee, &quot;which rakes the roads for a dry powdery dust and mixes
+it with saliva to convert it into a hard cement,&quot; foresee that this mud
+will harden?</p>
+
+<p>
+Is the Pelopaeus devoid of judgment when she seeks the interior of dwelling-houses
+in order to shelter her nest of dried clay, which the least drop of rain would
+reduce to its original state of mud?</p>
+
+
+<p>
+Is it without knowledge of the effects that the sloe-weevil builds a ventilating
+chimney to prevent the asphyxiation of her larva? that the Scarabaeus sacer
+contrives a filter at the smaller end of its pear-shaped ball, by means of
+which the grub is able to breathe? or that Arachne labyrintha &quot;introduces
+in her silk-work a rampart of compressed earth to protect her eggs from the
+probe of the Ichneumon&quot;?</p>
+
+<p>
+May we not also see a masterpiece of the highest logic in the house of the trap-door
+spider, Arachne clotho, which is furnished with a door, a true door &quot;which
+she throws open with a push of the leg, and carefully bolts behind her on
+returning by means of a little silk&quot;? <a href="#C8-13">(8/13.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+What a miracle of invention too is the prodigious nest of the Eumenes, &quot;with
+its egg suspended by a thread from the roof, like a pendulum, oscillating at
+the lightest breath in order to save it from contact with the caterpillars,
+which, incompletely paralysed, are wriggling and writhing below&quot;! Later,
+when the egg is hatched, &quot;the filament is transformed into a tube, a place
+of refuge, up which the grub clambers backwards. At the least sign of danger
+from the mass of caterpillars the larva retreats into its sheath and ascends to
+the roof, where the wriggling swarm cannot reach it.&quot; <a href="#C8-14">(8/14.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Let us refer also to the remarkable history of the Copris. We cannot deny that the
+valiant dung-beetle is capable of &quot;evading the accidental&quot; (which to
+Fabre constitutes one of the distinctive characteristics of the intelligence),
+since it immediately intervenes if with the point of a penknife we open the
+roof of its nest and lay bare its egg. &quot;The fragments raised by the knife
+are immediately brought together and soldered, so that no trace is left of the
+injury, and all is once more in order.&quot; We may read also with what
+incredible address the mother Copris was able to use and to profit by the
+ready-made pellets of cow-dung which it occurred to Fabre to offer her. <a href="#C8-15">(8/15.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+But their scope is limited, and encroaches very little, in the eyes of the great
+observer, on the domain of intelligence. This he demonstrates to satiety, and
+his astonishing Necrophori, which adapt themselves so admirably to
+circumstances and triumph over the experimental difficulties to which he subjects
+them, seem scarcely to exceed the limits of those actions which at bottom are
+merely unconscious. <a href="#C8-16">(8/16.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+With the spawning of the Osmia, Fabre throws a fresh and unexpected light on the
+intuitive knowledge of instinct.</p>
+
+<p>
+We are still groping our way among the causes which rule the determination of the
+sexes. Biology has only been able to throw a few scattered lights on the
+subject, and we possess only a few approximate data; which nevertheless are
+turned to account by the breeders of insects. We are still in the region of
+illusion and imperfect prognostics.</p>
+
+<p>
+But the Osmia knows what we do not. She is deeply versed in all physiological and
+anatomical knowledge, and in the faculty of creating children of either sex at
+will.</p>
+
+<p>
+These pretty bees, &quot;with coppery skin and fleece of ruddy velvet,&quot; which
+establish their progeny in the hollow of a bramble stump, the cavity of a reed,
+or the winding staircase of an empty snail-shell, know the fixed and immutable
+genetic laws which we can only guess at, and are never mistaken.</p>
+
+<p>
+This marvellous prerogative the Osmia shares with a host of apiaries, in which the
+unequal development of the males and females requires an unequal provision of
+space and of nourishment for the future larvae. For the females, who exceed in
+point of size, huge cells and abundant provision; for the more puny males,
+narrow cells and a smaller ration of pollen and honey.</p>
+
+<p>
+Now the circumstances which are encountered by the Osmia, when, pressed by the
+necessities of spawning, she searches for a dwelling, are often fortuitous and
+incapable of modification; and in order to give each set of larvae the
+necessary space &quot;she lays at will a male or a female egg, according to the
+conditions of space.&quot;</p>
+
+
+<p>
+In this marvellous study, which constitutes, with the history of the Cerceris, the
+finest masterpiece of experimental entomology, Fabre brilliantly establishes
+all the details of that curious law which in the Hymenoptera rules both the
+distribution and the succession of the sexes. In his artificial hives, in glass
+cylinders, he forces the Osmia to commence her spawning with the males, instead
+of beginning with the females as nature requires, since the insect is primarily
+preoccupied with the more important sex, that which ensures par excellence the
+perpetuation of the species. He even forces the whole swarm which buzzes about
+his work-tables, his books, his bottles, and apparatus, completely to change
+the order of its spawning. He shows finally that in the heart of the ovaries
+the egg of the Osmia has as yet no determined sex, and that it is only at the
+precise moment when the egg is on the point of emerging from the oviduct that
+it receives, <b><i>at the will of the mother</i></b>, the mysterious, final, and inevitable
+imprint.</p>
+
+<p>
+But whence does the Osmia derive this, &quot;distinct idea of the invisible&quot;?
+Here again is one of those riddles of nature which Fabre declares himself quite
+incapable of solving. <a href="#C8-17">(8/17.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Is this all? No; we are far from having made the tour of this miraculous and
+incommensurable kingdom through which this admirable master leads us, and I
+should never be done were I to attempt to exhaust all the spectacles which he
+offers us. Let us descend yet another step, among creatures yet smaller and
+humbler. We shall find tendencies, impulses, preferences, efforts, intentions,
+&quot;Machiavellic ruses and unheard-of stratagems.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Certain miserable black mites, living specks, the larvae of a beetle, one of the
+Meloidae, the Sitaris, are parasites of the solitary bee, the Anthophora. They
+wait patiently all the winter at the entrance of her tunnel, on the slope of a
+sunny bank, for the springtime emergence of the young bees, as yet imprisoned
+in their cells of clay. A male Anthophora, hatched a little earlier than the
+females, appears in the entrance of the tunnel; these mites, which are armed
+with robust talons, rouse themselves, hasten to and fro, hook themselves to his
+fleece, and accompany him in all his peregrinations; but they quickly recognize
+their error; for these animated specks are well aware that the males, occupied all
+day long in scouring the country and pillaging the flowers, live exclusively
+out of doors, and would in no wise serve their end. But the moment comes when
+the Anthophora pays court to the fair sex, and the imperceptible creature
+immediately profits by the amorous encounter to change its winged courser.
+&quot;These pigmies therefore have a memory, an experience of facts&quot; (and
+how one is tempted to add, a glimmering of intelligence!). Grappled now to the
+female bee, the grub of the Sitaris &quot;conceals itself, and allows itself to
+be carried by her&quot; to the end of the gallery in which she is now
+contriving her cradle, &quot;watches the precise moment when the egg is laid,
+installs itself upon it, and allows itself to fall therewith upon the surface
+of the honey, in order to substitute itself for the future offspring of the
+Anthophora, and possess itself of house and victuals.&quot; <a href="#C8-18">(8/18.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Another &quot;little gelatinous speck,&quot; &quot;a shadow of a creature,&quot; the
+larva of a Chalcidian, the Leucopsis, one of the parasites of the Mason-bee,
+knows that in the cell of the mason there is food for one only. Scarcely has it
+entered the tiny dwelling but we see this &quot;nameless shape&quot; for
+several days &quot;anxiously wandering; it visits the top and bottom, the back,
+the front, the sides&quot;; it makes the tour of its domain; &quot;it searches
+in the darkness, palpitating, seemingly with an object in view.&quot; What does
+this &quot;animated globule&quot; want? why is this atom so excited? It is
+searching to discover if there is not in some corner hitherto unexplored
+another larva, a rival, that it may exterminate it! <a href="#C8-19">(8/19.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+What then intrinsically is instinct? And what intrinsically is intelligence?</p>
+
+<p>
+How can we propose to draw up the inexhaustible inventory of all the manifestations
+of life, and why attempt to include all its species and their unknown varieties
+in narrow classes? Why say that there are only two modes of life, instinct on
+the one hand and intelligence on the other, &quot;when we know how subtle and
+illusive is this Proteus, and that there are not two things only, but a
+thousand dissimilar things&quot; <a href="#C8-20">(8/20.)</a>: or rather is it not always the same
+thing, everywhere present and acting in living matter, and susceptible of
+infinite degrees, under forms and disguises innumerable?</p>
+
+
+<p>
+This is why it escapes the &quot;scalpel of the masters&quot; and the apparatus of
+the chemists. We may dissect, we may scrutinize organs under the magnifying
+glass, examine wing-cases, count the nervures of the wings, the number of
+articulations in the limbs; we may reckon every point, like Réaumur forgetting
+not a line, not a hair; we may compare and measure every portion of the mouth,
+and define the class; and we shall not find a single point in all this physical
+architecture which will positively inform us of the habits of the insect. Of
+what account are a few slight differences? It is in the physical far more than
+in the anatomical differences that the inviolable demarcation between two
+species exists. Instincts dominate forms; the tool does not make the artisan;
+&quot;and none of these various structures, however well adapted they may
+appear to us, bears within it its reason or its finality.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus whatever opinion we may hold as to the nature of instinct, the accomplishments
+and habits of insects are not, properly speaking, connected with the external
+and visible form of their organs, and their acts do not necessarily presuppose
+the instruments which would be appropriate to them.</p>
+
+<p>
+We know that with most organisms, and particularly with plants, an almost
+imperceptible variation in material circumstances is often enough to modify
+their character and to produce fresh aptitudes. Nevertheless, we can but
+wonder, with Fabre, that physical modifications, which, when they do exist, are
+so slight always as to have escaped the most perfect observation, should have
+sufficed to determine the appearance of profoundly dissimilar faculties.
+Inexplicable abilities, unexpected habits, unforeseen physical aptitudes, and
+unheard-of industries are exercised by means of organs which are here and there
+practically identical. &quot;The same tools are equally good for any purpose.
+Talent alone is able to adapt them to manifold ends.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+The Anthidia have two particular industries; &quot;those which felt cotton and card
+the soft down of hairy plants have the same claws, the same mandibles, composed
+of the same portions as those which knead resin and mix it with fine
+gravel.&quot; <a href="#C8-21">(8/21.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+The sloe-weevil &quot;bores the hard stone of the sloe with the same rostrum as
+that which its congeners, so like it in conformation, employ to roll the leaves
+of the vine and the poplar into tiny cigars.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+The implement of the Megachile, the rose-fly, is by no means appropriate to its
+industry; &quot;yet the perfectly circular fragments of leaves have the precise
+perfection of form that a punch would give.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+The Xylocopa, in order to pierce wood and to bore its galleries in an old rafter,
+employs &quot;the same utensils which in others are transformed into picks and
+mattocks to attack clay and gravel, and it is only a predisposition of talent
+that holds each worker to his speciality.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Moreover, have not the superior animals the same senses and the same structure, yet what
+inequality there is among them, in the matter of aptitudes and degrees of
+intelligence!</p>
+
+<p>
+Habits are no more determined by anatomical peculiarities than are aptitudes or industries.</p>
+
+<p>
+The two Goat-moth caterpillars, of similar structure, have entirely different
+stomachic aptitudes; &quot;the exclusive portion of the one is the oak and of
+the other the hawthorn or the cherry-laurel.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;Whence does the Mantis derive its excessive hunger, its pugnacity, its cannibalism,
+and the Empusa its sobriety, its peaceableness, when their almost identical
+organization would seem to indicate an identity of needs, instincts, and
+habits?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+In the same way the black scorpion appears to present none of the interesting
+peculiarities which we observe in the habits of its congener, the white
+scorpion of Languedoc. <a href="#C8-22">(8/22.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Structure, therefore, tells us nothing of aptitude; the organ does not explain its
+function. Let the specialists hypnotize themselves over their lenses and
+microscopes; they may accumulate at leisure masses of details relating to this
+or that family or genus or individual; they may undertake the most subtle
+inquiries, may write thousands and thousands of pages in order to detail a few
+slight variations, without even succeeding in exhausting the matter: they will
+not even have seen what is most wonderful.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+When the little insect has for the last time cleaned its claws, the secret of the
+little mind has fled for ever, with all the feelings that animated it and gave
+it life. That which is crystallized in death cannot explain what was life. This
+is the thought which the Provençal singer, with that intuition which is the
+privilege of genius, has expressed in these melodious lines: </p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;Oh! pau de sèn qu'emé l'escaupre<br>
+Furnant la mort, creson de saupre, <br>
+La vertu de l'abiho e lou secrèt doù méu.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>(O men of little sense, who seek, <br>
+Scalpel in hand, to make Death tell<br>
+The virtue of the bee, the secret of her cell!) <a href="#C8-23">(8/23.)</a></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAP09">CHAPTER 9. EVOLUTION OR &quot;TRANSFORMISM.&quot;</a></h2>
+
+<p>
+&quot;How did a miserable grub acquire its marvellous knowledge? Are its habits, its
+aptitudes, and its industries the integration of the infinitely little,
+acquired by successive experiences on the limitless path of time?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+It is in these words that Fabre presents the problem of evolution.</p>
+
+<p>
+Difficult though it may be to follow the sequence of forms which have endlessly succeeded
+and replaced one another on the face of the earth, since the beginning of the
+world, it is certain that all living creatures are closely related; and the
+magnificent and fertile hypothesis of evolution, which seeks to explain how
+extant forms are derived from extinct, has the immense advantage of giving a
+plausible reason for the majority of the facts which at least cease to be
+completely unintelligible.</p>
+
+<p>
+Otherwise we can certainly never imagine how so many instincts, and these so complex and
+perfect, could have issued suddenly &quot;from the urn of hazard.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+But Fabre will suppose nothing; he will only record the facts. Instead of wandering
+in the region of probabilities, he prefers to confine himself to the reality,
+and for the rest to reply simply that &quot;we do not know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+This stern, positive, rigorous, independent, and observant mind, nourished upon
+geometry and the exact sciences, which has never been able to content itself
+with approximations and probabilities, could but distrust the seductions of
+hypotheses.</p>
+
+<p>
+His robust common sense, which was always his protection against precipitate
+conclusions, too clearly comprehends the limits of science and the necessity of
+accumulating facts &quot;upon the thorny path of observation and
+experiment&quot; to indulge in generalization. He feels that life has secrets
+which our minds are powerless to probe, and that &quot;human knowledge will be
+erased from the archives of the world before we know the last word concerning
+the smallest fly.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+This is why he was regarded as &quot;suspect&quot; by the company of official
+scientists, to whom he was a dissenter, almost a traitor, especially at a
+moment when the theories of evolution, then in the first flush of their
+novelty, were everywhere the cause of a general elation.</p>
+
+<p>
+No one as yet was capable of divining the man of the future in this modest thinker
+who would not accept the word of the masters interested, but in opposing the
+theory of transformation, far from being reactionary, Fabre revealed himself,
+at least in the domain of animal psychology, as an innovator, a true precursor.</p>
+
+<p>
+Moreover, his observations, always so direct and personal, often revealed the contrary of
+what was asserted or foreseen by the magic formulae suggested by the mind.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+To the ingenious mechanism invented by the transformists he preferred to oppose,
+not contrary argument, but the naked undeniable fact, the obvious testimony,
+the certain and irrefragable example. &quot;Is it,&quot; he would ask them,
+&quot;to repulse their enemies that certain caterpillars smear themselves with
+a corrosive product? But the larva of the Calosoma sycophanta, which feeds on
+the Processional caterpillar of the oak-tree, pays no heed to it, neither does
+the Dermestes, which feeds on the entrails of the Processional caterpillar of
+the pine-tree.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+And consider mimicry. According to the theory of evolution, certain insects would
+utilize their resemblance to certain others in order to conceal themselves, and
+to introduce themselves into the dwellings of the latter as parasites living at
+their expense. Such would be the case with the Volucella, a large fly whose
+costume, striped with brown and yellow bands, gives it a rude resemblance to
+the wasp. Obliged, if not for its own sake at least for that of its family, to
+force itself into the wasp's dwelling as a parasite, it deceitfully dresses
+itself, we are told, in the livery of its victim, thus affording the most
+curious and striking example of mimicry; and naturalists insufficiently
+informed would regard it as one of the greatest triumphs of evolution.</p>
+
+<p>
+Now what does the Volucella do? It is true that it lays its eggs without being
+disturbed in the nest of the wasp. But, as the rigorous observer will tell you,
+it is a precious auxiliary and not an enemy of the community. Its grubs, far
+from disguising or concealing themselves, &quot;come and go openly upon the
+combs, although every stranger is immediately massacred and thrown out.&quot;
+Moreover, &quot;they watch the hygiene of the city by clearing the nest of its
+dead and ridding the larvae of the wasps of their excretory products.&quot;
+Plunging successively into each chamber of the dormitory the forepart of their
+bodies, &quot;they provoke the emission of that fluid excrement of which the
+larvae, owing to their cloistration, contain an extreme reserve.&quot; In a
+word, the grubs of the Volucella &quot;are the nurses of the larvae,&quot;
+performing the most intimate duties.&quot; <a href="#C9-1">(9/1.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+What an astonishing conclusion! What a disconcerting and unexpected reply to the
+&quot;theories in vogue&quot;!</p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre, however, with his poetic temperament and ardent imagination, seemed admirably
+prepared to grasp all that vast network of relations by which all creatures are
+connected; but what proves the solidity of his imperishable work is that all
+theories, all doctrines, and all systems may resort to it in turn and profit by
+his proofs and arguments.</p>
+
+<p>
+And he himself, although he boasts with so much reason of putting forward no
+pretensions, no theories, no systems, has he not even so yielded somewhat to
+the suggestions of the prevailing school of thought, and have not his verdicts
+against evolution often been the more excessive in that he has paid so notable
+a tribute to the evolutionary progress of creation?</p>
+
+<p>
+In the first place, he is far from excluding the undeniable influence of
+environing causes; the immense role of those myriad external circumstances on
+which Lamarck so strongly insisted; but the work of these factors is, in his
+eyes, only accessory and wholly secondary in the economy of nature; and in any
+case it is far from explaining the definite direction and the transcendent
+harmony which characterize evolution, both in its totality and in its most
+infinitesimal details.</p>
+
+<p>
+In one of his admirable little textbooks, intended to teach and to popularize
+science, he complacently enumerates the happy modifications effected by that
+&quot;sublime magician,&quot; selection as understood by Darwin. He evokes the
+metamorphoses of the potato, which, on the mountains of Chili, is merely a
+wretched venomous tubercle, and those of the cabbage, which on the rocky face
+of oceanic precipices is nothing but a weed, &quot;with a tall stem and scanty
+disordered leaves of a crude green, an acrid savour, and a rank smell&quot;; he
+speaks of wheat, formerly a poor unknown grass; the primitive pear-tree
+&quot;an ugly intractable thorny bush, with detestable bitter fruit&quot;; the
+wild celery, which grows beside ponds, &quot;green all over, hard, with a
+repulsive flavour, and which gradually becomes tenderer, sweeter, whiter,&quot;
+and &quot;ceases to distil its poison.&quot; <a href="#C9-2">(9/2.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+With profound exactitude this great biologist has also perceived the degree to which
+size may be modified; may dwindle to dwarfness when a niggardly soil refuses to
+furnish beast and plant alike with a sufficient nourishment.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+Without any communication with the other scientists who were occupied by the same
+questions, knowing nothing of the results which these experimenters had
+attained in the case of small mammiferous animals, and which prove that
+dwarfness has often no other cause than physiological poverty, he confirmed and
+expanded their ideas from an entomological point of view. <a href="#C9-3">(9/3.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Scarcely ever, indeed, was he first inspired by the doings of others in this or that
+direction; he read scarcely anything, and nature was his sole teacher. He
+considered that the knowledge to be obtained from books is but so much vapour
+compared with the realities; he borrowed only from himself, and resorted
+directly to the facts as nature presented them. One has only to see his scanty
+library of odd volumes to be convinced how little he owes to others, whether
+writers or workers.</p>
+
+<p>
+A true naturalist philosopher, this profound observer has also thrown a light
+upon certain singular anomalies which, in the insect world, seem to constitute
+an exception, at all events in our Europe, to the general rules. It is not only
+to the curiosity and for the amusement of entomologists that he proposes these
+curious anatomical problems, but also, and chiefly, to the Darwinian wisdom of
+the evolutionists.</p>
+
+<p>
+Why, for example, is the Scarabaeus sacer born and why does it remain maimed all its
+life; that is to say, deprived of all the digits on the anterior limbs?</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;If it is true that every change in the form of an appendage is only the sign of a
+habit, a special instinct, or a modification in the conditions of life, the
+theory of evolution should endeavour to account for this mutilation, for these
+creatures are, like all others, constructed on the same plan and provided with
+absolutely the same appendages.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+The posterior limbs of the Geotrupes stercorarius, &quot;perfectly developed in the
+adult, are atrophied in the larvae, reduced to mere specks.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+The general history of the species, of its migrations and its changes, will
+doubtless one day throw light upon these strange infirmities, here temporary
+and there permanent, which may perhaps be explained by unforeseen encounters
+with undiscovered specimens, strayed perhaps into distant countries. <a href="#C9-4">(9/4.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+What invaluable documents for the entomologist and the historian of the evolution of
+the species are those multiple and fabulous metamorphoses of the Sitares and
+the Meloïdae which this indefatigable inquirer has revealed in all their
+astonishing phases!</p>
+
+<p>
+One of the finest examples of scientific investigation is the pursuit, through a
+period of twenty-five years, with a sagacity which seems to border on
+divination, of this problem of <b><i>hyper-metamorphosis</i></b>. The larvae of those
+coleoptera which we have seen introduced, with infernal cunning, into the cells
+of the Anthophora (See Chapter 8 above.), suffer no less than four moults
+before they become nymphs.</p>
+
+<p>
+These merely external transformations, which involve only the envelope, and respect
+the internal structure, correspond each with a change of environment and of
+diet. Each time the organism adapts itself to its new mode of existence,
+&quot;as perfectly as when it becomes adult&quot;; and we see the insect, which
+was clear-sighted, become blind; it loses its feet, to recover them later; its
+slender body becomes ventripotent; hard, it grows soft; its mandibles, at first
+steely, become hollowed out spoonwise, each modification of conformation having
+its motive in a fresh modification of the conditions of the creature's life.</p>
+
+<p>
+How explain this strange evolution of a fourfold larval existence, these successive
+appearances of organs, which become entirely unlike what they were, to serve
+functions each time different?</p>
+
+<p>
+What is the reason, the intention, the high law which presides over these visible
+changes, these successive envelopments of creatures one within the other, these
+multiple transfigurations?</p>
+
+
+<p>
+By what bygone adaptations has the Sitaris successively acquired these diverse
+extraordinary phases of life, indicating possibly for each corresponding age
+some ancient and remote heredity? <a href="#C9-5">(9/5.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+How many other arguments might evolution derive from his books, and what
+illustrations of the Darwinian philosophy has he unconsciously furnished! Does
+he not even allow the admission to escape him that &quot;the spirit of cunning
+and deception is transmitted&quot;? He sees in the persecutions of the
+Dytiscus, the &quot;pirate of the ponds,&quot; the origin of the faculty which
+the Phryganea has of refashioning its shield when demanded of it. &quot;To
+evade the assault of the brigand, the Phryganea must hastily abandon its
+mantle; it allows itself to sink to the bottom, and promptly removes itself;
+necessity is the mother of invention.&quot; <a href="#C9-6">(9/6.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Returning to the lacunae which it so amazes Fabre to discover in our organization, even
+in the most perfect of us, are they fundamentally very real? These mysterious
+and unknown senses which he has so greatly contributed to elucidate in the case
+of the inferior species: why, he asks, have we not inherited them, if we are
+truly the final term and the supreme goal of creation?</p>
+
+<p>
+But in cultivating our intuition, as Bergson invites us to do, would it be
+impossible to re-awaken, deep within us, these strange faculties, which perhaps
+are only slumbering? What of that species of indefinable memory which permits
+the red ant, the Bembex, the Cerceris, the Pompilus, the Chalicodoma and so
+many others to &quot;find themselves,&quot; to orientate themselves with
+infallible certainty and incredible accuracy? Is it not to be found, according
+to travellers, in those men who have remained close to nature and accustomed
+from their remotest origins to listen to the silence of the great deserts?</p>
+
+<p>
+Finally, the evolutionists, who &quot;reconstruct the world in imagination,&quot; and
+who see in the relationship of neighbouring species a proof of descent or derivation,
+and a whole ideal series, will not fail to perceive throughout his work, in the
+elementary operations of the Eumenes and the Odynerus, cousins of the Cerceris,
+which sting their prey in places as yet ill determined, not indeed so many
+isolated attempts, but an incomplete process of invention, an attempt at
+procedures still in the fact of formation: in a word, the birth of that
+marvellous instinct which ends in the transcendent art of the Sphex and the
+Ammophila.</p>
+
+<p>
+Although they have acquired such prodigious deftness, these master paralysers are not,
+in fact, always infallible. Occasionally the Sphex blunders and gropes,
+&quot;operates clumsily&quot;; the cricket revives, gets upon its feet, turns
+round and round, and tries to walk. But, inquires Fabre, do you say that having
+profited by a fortuitous act, which has turned out to be favourable to them,
+they have perfected themselves by contact with their elders, &quot;thanks to
+the imitation of example,&quot; and that they have thus crystallized their
+experiences, which have been transmitted by heredity--thereby fixed in the
+race? <a href="#C9-7">(9/7.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+How much we should prefer that it were so! How much more comprehensible and
+interesting their life would become!</p>
+
+<p>
+But &quot;when the hymenopteron breaks its cocoon, where are its masters! Its
+predecessors have long ago disappeared. How then can it receive education by
+example?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+You who &quot;shape the world to your whim,&quot; you will reply: &quot;Doubtless
+there are no longer masters to&#8209;day; but go back to the first ages of the
+globe, when the world in its newness, as Lucretius has so superbly said, as yet
+knew neither bitter cold nor excessive heat <a href="#C9-8">(9/8.)</a>; an eternal springtide
+bathed the earth, and the insects, not dying, as to&#8209;day, at the first
+touch of frost, two successive generations lived side by side, and the younger
+generation could profit at leisure by the lessons of example.&quot; <a href="#C9-9">(9/9.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Let us return to Fabre's laboratory, to the covers of wire-gauze, and note what
+becomes, at the approach of winter, of the survivors of the vespine city.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+In the mild and comfortable retreat where the wasps are kept under observation
+they die no less, despite their well-being and all the care expended on them,
+when once &quot;the inexorable hour&quot; has struck, and once the exact
+capital of life which seems to have been imparted to them ages ago is
+exhausted. With no apparent cause, we see death busy among them. &quot;Suddenly
+the wasps begin to fall as though struck by lightning; for a few moments the
+abdomen quivers and the legs gesticulate, then finally remain inert, like a clockwork
+machine whose spring has run down to the last coil.&quot; <a href="#C9-10">(9/10.)</a> This law is
+general; &quot;the insect is born orphaned both of mother and father, excepting
+the social insect, and again excepting the dung-beetle, which dies full of
+days.&quot; <a href="#C9-11">(9/11.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Moreover, Fabre is never weary of demonstrating that the insect, perfectly unconscious of
+the motive which makes it act, this thereby incapable of profiting by the
+lessons of experience and of innovation in its habits, beyond a very narrow
+circle. &quot;No apprentices, no masters.&quot; In this world each obeys
+&quot;the inner voice&quot; on its own account; each sets itself to accomplish
+its task, not only without troubling as to what its neighbour is doing, but
+without thinking any further as to what it is doing itself; instance the Epeïra,
+turning its back on its work, yet &quot;the latter proceeds of itself, so well
+is the mechanism devised&quot;; and if by ill chance the spider acted otherwise
+it would probably fail.</p>
+
+<p>
+Darwin knew barely the tenth part of the colossal work of Fabre. He had read firstly
+in the &quot;Annals of Natural Science&quot; of the habits of the Cerceris and
+the fabulous history of the Meloidae. Finally he saw the first volume of the
+&quot;Souvenirs&quot; appear, and was interested in the highest degree by the
+beautiful study on the sense of location and direction in the Mason-bees.</p>
+
+<p>
+This was already more than enough to excite his curiosity and to make him wonder
+whether all his philosophy would not stumble over this obstacle.</p>
+
+<p>
+After having succeeded in explaining so luminously--and with what a lofty
+purview--the origin of species and the whole concatenation of animal forms,
+would it not be as though he halted midway in his task were the sanctuary of
+the origin of instinct to remain for ever inscrutable?</p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre had not yet left Orange when Darwin engaged in a curious correspondence which
+lasted until the former had been nearly two years at Sérignan, and which showed
+how passionately interested the great theorist of evolution was in all the
+Frenchman's surprising observations.</p>
+
+<p>
+It seems that on his side Fabre took a singular interest in the discussion on
+account of the absolute sincerity, the obvious desire to arrive at the truth,
+and also the ardent interest in his own studies, of which Darwin's letters were
+full. He conceived a veritable affection for Darwin, and commenced to learn
+English, the better to understand him and to reply more precisely; and a
+discussion on such a subject between these two great minds, who were,
+apparently, adversaries, but who had conceived an infinite respect for one
+another, promised to be prodigiously interesting.</p>
+
+<p>
+Unhappily death was soon to put an end to it, and when the solitary of Down expired in
+1882 the hermit of Sérignan saluted his great shade with real emotion. How many
+times have I heard him render homage to this illustrious memory!</p>
+
+<p>
+But the furrow was traced; thenceforth Fabre never ceased to multiply his
+pin-pricks in &quot;the vast and luminous balloon of transformism (evolution),
+in order to empty it and expose it in all its inanity.&quot; <a href="#C9-12">(9/12.)</a> By no
+means the least original feature of his work is this passionate and incisive
+argument, in which, with a remarkable power of dialectic, and at times in a
+tone of lively banter, he endeavoured to remove &quot;this comfortable pillow
+from those who have not the courage to inquire into its fundamental
+nature.&quot; He attacked these &quot;adventurous syntheses, these superb and
+supposedly philosophic deductions,&quot; all the more eagerly because he
+himself had an unshakable faith in the absolute certainty of his own discoveries,
+and because he asserted the reality of things only after he had observed and
+re-observed them to satiety.</p>
+
+<p>
+This is why he cared so little to engage in argument relating to his own works; he
+did not care for discussion; he was indifferent to the daily press; he avoided
+criticism and controversy, and never replied to the attacks which were made
+upon him; he rather took pains to surround himself with silence until the day
+when he felt that his researches were ripe and ready for publicity.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+He wrote to his dear friend Devillario, shortly after Darwin's death: </p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;I have made a rule of never replying to the remarks, whether favourable or the
+reverse, which my writings may evoke. I go my own gait, indifferent whether the
+gallery applauds or hisses. To seek the truth is my only preoccupation. If some
+are dissatisfied with the result of my observations--if their pet theories are
+damaged thereby--let them do the work themselves, to see whether the facts tell
+another story. My problem cannot be solved by polemics; patient study alone can
+throw a little light on the subject. <a href="#C9-13">(9/13.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;I am profoundly indifferent to what the newspapers may say about me,&quot; he
+wrote to his brother seventeen years later; &quot;it is enough for me if I am
+pretty well satisfied with my own work.&quot; <a href="#C9-14">(9/14.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+He read all the letters he received only in a superficial manner, neglecting to
+thank those who praised or congratulated him, and above all shrinking from all
+that idle correspondence in which life is wasted without aim or profit.</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;I fume and swear when I have to cut into my morning in order to reply to
+so-and-so who sends me, in print or manuscript, his meed of praise; if I were
+not careful I should have no time left for far more important work.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+His beloved Frédéric, &quot;the best of his friends,&quot; was himself often
+treated no better, and to excuse his silence and the infrequency of his
+letters, Henri, even in the years spent at Carpentras and Ajaccio, could plead
+only the same reasons; his stupendous labours, his exhausting task, &quot;which
+overwhelmed him, and was often too great, not for his courage, but for his time
+and his strength.&quot; <a href="#C9-15">(9/15.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Nevertheless, while evading the question of origins, his far-sighted intellect was bound to
+&quot;read from the facts&quot; concerning the genesis of new species in
+process of evolution; and his observations throw a singular light on the quite
+recent theory of sudden mutations.</p>
+
+<p>
+The nymph of the Onthophagus presents &quot;a strange paraphernalia of horns and
+spurs which the organism has produced in a moment of ardour--a luxurious
+panoply which vanishes in the adult.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+The nymph of the Oniticella also decks itself in &quot;a temporary horn, which
+departs when it emerges.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+And &quot;as the dung-beetle is recent in the general chronology of creatures, as
+it takes rank among the last comers, as the geological strata are mute
+concerning it, it is possible that these horn-like processes, which always
+degenerate before they reach completion, may be not a reminiscence but a
+promise, a gradual elaboration of new organs, timid attempts which the
+centuries will harden to a complete armour, <b><i>and if this were so the present
+would teach us what the future is to be</i></b>.&quot; <a href="#C9-16">(9/16.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Here is a specific transformation, a veritable creation; fortuitous, blind, and
+silent; one of those innumerable attempts which nature is always making, for
+the moment a mere matter of hazard, until some propitious circumstance fixes it
+in future incarnations.</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus millions of indeterminate creatures are incessantly roughed out in the
+substance of that microcosm which is the initial cell; and it is here that
+Fabre sees the real secret of the law of evolution.</p>
+
+<p>
+He refutes the great principle of Leibnitz, which was so brilliantly adopted by
+Darwin, that changes occur by degrees, by &quot;fine shades,&quot; by slow
+variations, as the result of successive adaptations, and that there is no
+jumping-off place in nature. On the contrary, life often passes suddenly from
+one form to another, by abrupt and capricious leaps, by irregular and
+disorderly steps, and it is in the egg that Fabre sees the first lineaments of
+these mysterious and spontaneous variations.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+Species are therefore born as a whole, each at the same time, <b><i>at the same moment</i></b>,
+&quot;bringing into being its new organism, with its individual properties and
+peculiarities, its indelible and innate faculties and tendencies, like &quot;so
+many medals, each struck with a different die, which the gnawing tooth of time
+attacks only sooner or later to annihilate it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+However, Fabre affirms the continuity of progress; he believes in a better and more
+merciful future, a more complete humanity, ruled by more harmonious or less
+brutal laws.</p>
+
+<p>
+With what profound intelligence and what generous enthusiasm he seeks to conjecture
+what this future might be, in his beautiful observations on the young of the
+Lycosa <a href="#C9-17">(9/17.)</a>, which can live for weeks and months in absolute abstinence,
+although we can perceive no reserve of nutriment!</p>
+
+<p>
+We know no other sources of animal activity save the energy derived from food.
+Vegetables draw the materials of their nourishment from the soil and the air,
+and the sunlight is only an intermediary which enables the plant to fix its
+carbon. The animal species in turn borrow the elements indispensable to their
+existence from the vegetable world, or restore their flesh and blood with the
+flesh and blood of other animals.</p>
+
+<p>
+Now the young Lycosae &quot;are not inert on their mother's back; if they fall from
+the maternal chine they quickly pick themselves up and climb up one of her
+legs, and once back in place they have to preserve the equilibrium of the mass.
+In reality they know no such thing as complete repose. What then is the
+energetic aliment which enables the little Lycosae to struggle? Whence is the
+heat expended in action derived?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre sees no other source than &quot;the sun.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;Every day, if the sky is clear, the Lycosa, loaded with her little ones, crawls to
+the edge of her well, and for long hours lies in the sun. There, on the
+maternal back, the young ones stretch themselves out, saturate themselves in
+the sunshine, charging themselves with motor reserves, steeping themselves in
+energy, directly converting into movement the calorific radiations coming from
+the sun, the centre of all life.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+The Scorpion also is able to live for months without nourishment, restoring
+directly, in the form of movement, &quot;the effluvia emanating from the sun or
+from other ambient energies--heat, electricity, light--which are the soul of
+the world.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Perhaps, among the innumerable worlds of space, there is somewhere, gravitating round a
+fixed star, a planet invisible to us where &quot;the sunlight sates the hunger
+of the blind.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+The gentle philosophy of the ingenious dreamer soothes itself with the vision,
+entertained by great and noble minds, of a humanity &quot;whose teeth will no
+longer attack sensible life, nor even the pulp of fruits&quot;; &quot;when
+creatures will devour one another no longer, will no longer feed upon the dead;
+when they will be nourished by the sunlight, without conflict, without war,
+without labour; freed from all care, and assured against all needs!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus, in the humblest creatures, he sees the most marvellous perspectives; the body
+of the lowest insect becomes suddenly a transcendent secret, lighting up the
+abyss of the human soul, or giving it a glimpse of the stars.</p>
+
+<p>
+And although his work is in contradiction to the theories of the evolutionists,
+it ends with the same moral conclusion, namely, that all creation moves slowly
+and without intermission on its gradual ascent towards progress.</p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAP10">CHAPTER 10. THE ANIMAL MIND.</a></h2>
+
+<p>
+The cunning anatomist has now successively laid bare all the springs of the animal
+intellect; he has shown how the various movements are mutually combined and
+engaged. But so far we have seen only one of the faces of the little mind of
+the animal; let us now consider the other aspect, the moral side, the region of
+feeling, the problem of which is confounded with the problem of instinct, and
+is doubtless fundamentally only another aspect of the same elemental power.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+After the conflict the insect manifests its delight; it seems sometimes to exult in
+its triumph; &quot;beside the caterpillar which it has just stabbed with its
+sting, and which lies writhing on the ground,&quot; the Ammophila &quot;stamps,
+gesticulates, beats her wings,&quot; capers about, sounding victory in an
+intoxication of delight.</p>
+
+<p>
+The sense of property exists in a high degree among the Mason-bees; with them right
+comes before might, and &quot;the intruder is always finally dislodged.&quot;
+<a href="#C10-1">(10/1.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+But can we find in the insect anything analogous to what we term devotion,
+attachment, affectionate feeling? There are facts which lead us to believe we
+may.</p>
+
+<p>
+Let us go once more into Fabre's garden and admire the Thomisus: absorbed in her
+maternal function, the little spider lying flat on her nest can strive no
+longer and is wasting away, but persists in living, mere ruin that she is, in
+order to open the door to her family with one last bite. Feeling under the
+silken roof her offspring stamping with impatience, but knowing that they have
+not strength to liberate themselves, she perforates the capsule, making a sort
+of practicable skylight. This duty accomplished, she quietly surrenders to
+death, still grappled to her nest.</p>
+
+<p>
+The Psyche, dominated by a kind of unconscious necessity, protects her nursery by
+means of her body, anchors herself upon the threshold, and perishes there,
+devoted to her family even in death.</p>
+
+<p>
+However, Fabre will show us with infallible logic that all these instances of foresight
+and maternal tenderness have, as a rule, no other motive than pleasure and the
+blind impulse which urges the insect to follow only the fatal path of its
+instincts.</p>
+
+<p>
+In many species the material fact of maternity is reduced to its simplest
+expression.</p>
+
+<p>
+The Pieris limits herself to depositing her eggs on the leaves of the cabbage,
+&quot;on which the young must themselves find food and shelter.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;From the height of the topmost clusters of the centaury the Clythris negligently
+lets her eggs fall to the ground, one by one, here or there at hazard; without
+the least care as to their installation.</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;The eggs of the Locustidae are implanted in the earth like seeds and germinate like
+grain.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+But stop before the Lycosa, that magnificent type of maternal love which Fabre has
+already depicted. &quot;She broods over her eggs with anxious affection. With
+the hinder claws resting on the margin of the well she holds herself supported
+above the opening of the white sac, which is swollen with eggs. For several
+long weeks she exposes it to the sun during half the day. Gently she turns it
+about in order to present every side to the vivifying light. The bird, in order
+to hatch her eggs, covers them with the down of her breast, and presses them
+against that living calorifer, her heart. The Lycosa turns hers about beneath
+the fires of heaven; she gives them the sun for incubator.&quot; (10.2.) Could
+abnegation be more perfect? What greater proof could there be of renunciation
+and self-oblivion?</p>
+
+<p>
+But appearances are vain. Substitute for the beloved sac some other object, and the
+spider &quot;will turn about, with the same love, as though it were her sac of
+eggs, a piece of cork, a pincushion, or a ball of paper,&quot; just as the hen,
+another victim of this sublime deception, will give all her heart to hatching
+the china nest-eggs which have been placed beneath her, and for weeks will
+forget to feed.</p>
+
+<p>
+The young brood hatches, and the spider goes a-hunting, carrying her little ones on
+her back; she protects them in case of danger, but is incapable of recognizing
+them or of distinguishing them from the young of others. The Copris and the
+Scorpion are no less blind, &quot;and their maternal tenderness barely exceeds
+that of the plant, which, a stranger to any sense of affection or morality,
+none the less exercises the most exquisite care in respect of its seeds.&quot;</p>
+
+
+<p>
+Moreover, the impulse to work is only a kind of unconscious pleasure. When the Pelopaeus
+&quot;has stored her lair with game,&quot; when the Cerceris has sealed the
+crypt to which she has confided the future of her race, neither one nor the
+other can foresee &quot;the future offspring which their faceted eyes will
+never behold, and the very object of their labours is to them occult.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+With them, as with all, life can only be a perpetual illusion.</p>
+
+<p>
+Yet the marvellous edifice of the &quot;Souvenirs entomologiques&quot; is
+consummated by the astonishing history of the Minotaur, whose habits surpass in
+ideal beauty all that could be imagined.</p>
+
+<p>
+At the bottom of a burrow, in a deeply sunken vault, two dung-beetles are at work,
+the Minotaurs, who, once united, recognize one another, and can find one
+another again if separated, but do not voluntarily separate, realizing
+&quot;the moral beauty of the double life&quot; and &quot;the touching concept
+of the family, the sacred group par excellence.&quot; The male buries himself
+with his companion, remains faithful to her, comes to her assistance, and
+&quot;stores up treasure for the future. Never discouraged by the heavy labour
+of climbing, leaving to the mother only the more moderate labour, keeping the
+severest for himself, the heavy task of transport in a narrow tunnel, very deep
+and almost vertical, he goes foraging, forgetful of himself, heedless of the
+intoxicating delights of spring, though it would be so good to see something of
+the country, to feast with his brothers, and to pester the neighbours; but no!
+he collects the food which is to nourish his children, and then, when all is
+ready for the new-comers, when their living is assured, having spent himself
+without counting the cost, exhausted by his efforts, and feeling himself
+failing, he leaves his home and goes away to die, that he may not pollute the
+dwelling with a corpse.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+The mother, on her side, allows nothing to divert her from her household, and only
+returns to the surface when accompanied by her young, who disperse at will.
+Then, having nothing more to do, the devoted creature perishes in turn. <a href="#C10-3">(10/3.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Compared with the Scarabaeus, which contents itself with idle wandering, or even with
+the meritorious Sisyphus, does it not seem that the Minotaur moves on an
+infinitely higher plane?</p>
+
+<p>
+What nobler could be found among ourselves? What father ever better comprehended his
+duties and obligations toward his family? What morality could be more
+irreproachable; what fairer example could be meditated?</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;Is not life everywhere the same, in the body of the dung-beetle as in that of man?
+If we examine it in the insect, do we not examine it in ourselves?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Whence does the Minotaur derive these particular graces? How has it risen to so high a
+level on the wings of pure instinct? How could we explain the rarity of so
+sublime an example, did we not know, to satiety, that &quot;nature everywhere
+is but an enigmatic poem, as who should say a veiled and misty picture, shining
+with an infinite variety of deceptive lights in order to evoke our
+conjectures&quot;? <a href="#C10-4">(10/4.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Nevertheless, it is a fact that the majority have no other rule of conduct than to follow the
+trend of their instincts, and to obey &quot;their unbridled desires.&quot; No
+one better than Fabre has expounded the blind operation of these little natural
+forces, the brutality of their manners, their cannibalism, and what we might
+call their amorality, were it possible to employ our human formulae outside our
+own human world.</p>
+
+<p>
+With the gardener-beetles, if one is crippled, none of the same race halts or
+lingers; none attempts to come to his aid. Sometimes the passers-by hasten to
+the invalid to devour him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+In the republic of the wasps &quot;the grubs recognized as incurable are
+pitilessly torn from their place and dragged out of the nest. Woe to the sick!
+they are helpless and at once expelled.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+When the winter comes all the larvae are massacred, and the whole vespine city ends
+in a horrible tragedy.</p>
+
+<p>
+But life is a whole, and all conduct is good whose actions realize an object and
+are adapted to an end. If there is a &quot;spirit&quot; of the hive, the insect
+also has its morality and the wasp's nest its &quot;law,&quot; and the conduct
+of its inmates, horrible though it may seem to Fabre, is doubtless only a
+submission to certain exigencies of that universal law which makes nature a
+&quot;savage foster-mother who knows nothing of pity.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+These cruelties particularly show us that one of the functions of the insect in
+nature is to preside over the disappearance and also the ultimate metamorphoses
+of the least &quot;remnants of life.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Each has its providential hygienic function.</p>
+
+<p>
+The Necrophori, &quot;the first of the tiny scavengers of the fields,&quot; bury
+corpses in order to establish their progeny in them; in the space of a few
+hours an enormous body, a mole, a water-rat, or an adder, will completely
+disappear, buried under the earth.</p>
+
+<p>
+The Onthophagi purify the soil, &quot;dividing all filth into tiny crumbs, ridding
+the earth of its defilements.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+A very small beetle, the Trox, has the imprescriptible mission of purging the
+earth of the rabbits' fur rejected by the fox. <a href="#C10-5">(10/5.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Here structure explains the function.</p>
+
+<p>
+The intestine of the grub of the rose-beetle &quot;is a veritable triturating mill,
+which transforms vegetable matter into mould; in a month it will digest a
+volume of matter equal to several thousand times the initial volume of the
+grub.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+The intestine of the Scarabaei is prolonged to a prodigious length in order to
+&quot;drain the excrement to the last atom in its manifold circuits. The sheep
+has finely divided the vegetable matter; the grub, that incomparable
+triturator, reduces it to the finest possible consistency; not a morsel is left
+in which the magnifying glass can reveal a fibre.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+To fulfil its hygienic mission the insect arrives in due season, and multiplies
+its legions; &quot;there are twenty thousand eggs in the flanks of the house
+fly; immediately they are hatched these twenty thousand maggots set to work, so
+that Linnaeus has said that three flies would suffice to devour the body of a
+horse or a lion.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Feeding only upon wheat, a single weevil, the Calendar beetle, produces ten thousand
+eggs, whence issue as many larvae, each of them devouring its grain.</p>
+
+<p>
+In all species the number of births is at first exaggerated, for all, the obscure,
+the nameless, the most destructive, our pests as well as our most precious
+helpers, have their utility and their part to play in the general scheme of
+life, a raison d'être in the eternal renewal of things, which is without
+reference to the vexatious or beneficent quality of their behaviour to us.</p>
+
+<p>
+Each has its rank assigned, each has its task, to one the flower, to another the
+roots, to a third the leaves; the vine has its caterpillars, its beetles, its
+butterflies; the clover, its moths and mites. <a href="#C10-6">(10/6.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Man sees himself forced to submit to them, and spends himself in vain efforts to
+carry on an often useless campaign. Nothing seems to affect them, neither
+drought, nor rain, nor even the severest cold; and the eggs and larvae,
+organizations apparently delicate in the extreme, are often more tenacious of
+life than the adults. Fabre has proved this: let the temperature suddenly fall
+twenty degrees: the eggs of Geotrupes and the larvae of the cockchafer or the
+rose-beetle endure such vicissitudes of temperature with impunity; contracted
+and stiffened into little masses of ice, but not destroyed, they revive in
+spring no less than the eel fry, the rotifers, or the tardigrades. One can
+scarcely believe that life still persists in a state of suspense only in these
+little frozen creatures, whose organization is already so complicated.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+Then, of a sudden, the ravagers disappear; more often than not none knows how or why;
+deliverance is at hand. What indeed would become of the world were nothing to
+moderate such fecundity?</p>
+
+<p>
+Again, each species has its trials which appear in time to moderate its surplusage,
+and Fabre expounds for us, with a stern philosophy, the terrible devices by
+which this repression is effected.</p>
+
+<p>
+Each has its appointed enemy, which lives upon it or its offspring, and which in
+turn becomes the prey of some smaller creature. The gentle itself, &quot;the
+king of the dead,&quot; has its parasites. While it swims in the deliquescence
+of putrefying flesh a minute Chalcidian perforates its skin with an
+imperceptible wound, and introduces its terrible eggs, whence in the future
+will issue larvae which to-morrow will devour the devourers of to&#8209;day.</p>
+
+<p>
+None exists save to the detriment of others. Everywhere, even in the smallest, we
+find &quot;an atrocious activity, a cunning brigandage,&quot; a savage
+extermination, which dominates a vast unconscious world of which the final
+result is the restoration of equilibrium. <a href="#C10-7">(10/7.)</a> It is only on these antagonisms,
+on the enemies of our enemies, that we can found any hope of seeing this or
+that pest disappear. A small Hymenopteron, almost invisible, the Microgaster
+glomeratus, is entrusted with the destruction of the cabbage caterpillar; the
+cochineal wages war to the death upon the green-fly; the Ammophila is the
+predestined murderer of the harvest Noctuela, whose misdeeds in a beetroot
+country often amount to a disaster. The Odynerus has for its instinctive
+mission to arrest the excessive multiplication of a lucerne weevil, no less
+than twenty-four of whose grubs are necessary to rear the offspring of the
+brigand, and nearly sixty gadflies are sacrificed to the growth of a single
+Bembex.</p>
+
+<p>
+Everywhere craft is organized to triumph over force. Around each nest the parasites lie in
+wait, &quot;atrocious assassins of the child in the cradle, watching at the
+doors for the favourable occasion to establish their family at the expense of
+others. The enemy penetrates the most inaccessible fortress; each has its
+tactics of war, devised with a terrible art. Of the nest and the cocoon of the
+victim the intruder makes its own nest, its own cocoon, and in the following
+year, instead of the master of the house, he will emerge from underground as
+the usurping bandit, the devourer of the inhabitant.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+While the cicada is absorbed in laying her eggs an insignificant fly labours to
+destroy them. How express the calm audacity of this pigmy, following closely
+after the colossus, step by step; several at once almost under the talons of
+the giant, which could crush them merely by treading on them? But the cicada
+respects them, or they would long ago have disappeared.&quot; <a href="#C10-8">(10/8.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre thus agrees with Pasteur, who in the world of the infinitely little
+shows us the same antagonisms, the same vital competition, the same eternal
+movement of flux and reflux, the same whirlpool of life, which is extinguished
+only to reappear: tending always towards an equilibrium which is incessantly
+destroyed. And it is thanks to this balancing that the integral of life remains
+everywhere and always almost identical with itself.</p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAP11">CHAPTER 11. HARMONIES AND DISCORDS.</a></h2>
+
+<p>
+Such indeed is the economy of nature that secret relations and astonishing
+concordances exist throughout the whole vast weft of things. There are no loose
+ends; everything is consequent and ordered. Hidden harmonies meet and mingle.</p>
+
+<p>
+Among the terebinth lice, &quot;when the population is mature, the gall is ripe also,
+so fully do the calendars of the shrub and the animal coincide&quot;; and the
+mortal enemy of the Halictus, the sinister midge of the springtime, is hatched
+at the very moment when the bee begins to wander in search of a location for
+its burrows.</p>
+
+<p>
+The fantastic history of the larvae of the Anthrax furnishes us with one of the
+most suggestive examples of these strange coincidences. <a href="#C10-9">(10/9.)</a></p>
+
+
+<p>
+The Anthrax is a black fly, which sows its eggs on the surface of the nests of the
+Mason-bee, whose larvae are at the moment reposing in their silken cocoons.</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;The grub of the Anthrax emerges and comes to life under the touch of the sunlight.
+Its cradle is the rugged surface of the cell; it is welcomed into the world by
+a literally stony harshness...Obstinately it probes the chinks and pores of the
+nest; glides over it, crawls forward, returns, and recommences. The radicle of
+the germinating seed is not more persevering, not more determined to descend
+into the cool damp earth. What inspiration impels it? What compass guides it?
+What does the root know of the fertility of the soil?...The nurseling, the seed
+of the Anthrax, is barely visible, almost escaping the gaze of the magnifying
+glass; a mere atom compared to the monstrous foster-mother which it will drain
+to the very skin. Its mouth is a sucker, with neither fangs nor jaws, incapable
+of producing the smallest wound; it sucks in place of eating, and its attack is
+a kiss.&quot; It practises, in short, a most astonishing art, &quot;another
+variation of the marvellous art of feeding on the victim without killing it
+until the end of the meal, in order always to have a store of fresh meat.
+During the fourteen days through which the nourishment of the Anthrax
+continues, the aspect of the larva remains that of living flesh; until all its
+substance has been literally transferred, by a kind of transpiration, to the
+body of the nurseling, and the victim, slowly exhausted, drained to the last
+drop, while retaining to the end just enough life to prove refractory to
+decomposition, is reduced to the mere skin, which, being insufflated, puffs
+itself out and resumes the precise form of the larva, there being nowhere a
+point of escape for the compressed air.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Now the grub of the Anthrax &quot;appears precisely at the exact moment when the
+larva of the Chalicodoma is attacked by that lethargy which precedes
+metamorphosis, and which renders it insensible, and during which the substance
+of the grub about to be transfigured into a bee commences to break down and
+resolve itself into a liquid pulp, for the processes of life always liquefy the
+grub before achieving the perfect insect.&quot; <a href="#C11-2">(11/2.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Here again the time-tables coincide.</p>
+
+<p>
+But it is perhaps in the celebrated Odyssey of the grub of the Sitaris that Fabre
+most urgently claims our admiration for the marvellous and incomprehensible
+wisdom of the Unconscious!</p>
+
+<p>
+Let us recapitulate the unheard-of series of events, the inextricable complication
+of circumstances, which are required to condition the lowly life of a Sitaris.</p>
+
+<p>
+In the first place, this microscopic creature must be provided with talons, or how
+could it adhere to the fleece of the Anthophora, on which it must live as
+parasite for a certain length of time?</p>
+
+<p>
+Then again, it must transfer itself from the male to the female bee in the course of
+its travels abroad, or its destiny would be cut short.</p>
+
+<p>
+Again, it must not miss the opportunity of embarking itself upon the egg just at the
+propitious moment.</p>
+
+<p>
+Then the volume of this egg must be so calculated as to represent an allowance of
+food exactly proportioned to the duration of the first phase of its
+metamorphosis. Moreover, the quantity of honey accumulated by the bee must
+suffice for the whole of the remaining cycle of its larval existence.</p>
+
+<p>
+Let a single link of the chain be broken, and the entire species of the Sitaris is
+no longer possible.</p>
+
+<p>
+If every species has its law; if the Geotrupes remain faithful to filth, although
+experience shows that they can accommodate themselves equally well to the
+putrefaction of decayed leaves; if the predatory species--the Cerceris, the
+Sphex, the Ammophila--resort only to one species of quarry to nourish their
+larvae, although these same larvae accept all indifferently, it is on account
+of those superior economic laws and secret alliances the profound reasons for
+which as a rule escape us or are beyond the scope of our theories.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+For all things are produced and interlocked by the eternal necessity; link engages
+in link, and life is only a plexus of solitary forces allied among themselves
+by their very nature, the condition of which is harmony. And the whole system
+of living creatures appears to us, through the work of the great naturalist, as
+an immense organism, a sort of vast physiological apparatus, of which all the
+parts are mutually interdependent, and as narrowly controlled as all the cells
+of the human body.</p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre goes on to present us with other facts, which at a first glance appear highly
+immoral; I am referring to certain phases of sexual love among the lower
+animals, and his ghoulish revelations concerning the horrible bridals of the
+Arachnoids, the Millepoda, and the Locustidae.</p>
+
+<p>
+The Decticus surrenders only to a single exploit of love; a victim of its
+&quot;strange genesics&quot;; utterly exhausted by the first embrace, empty,
+drained, extenuated, motionless in all its members, utterly worn out, it
+quickly succumbs, a mere broken simulacrum, like the miserable lover of a
+monstrous succubus who &quot;loves him enough to devour him.&quot; <a href="#C11-3">(11/3.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+The female scorpion devours the male; &quot;all is gone but the tail!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+The female Spider delights in the flesh of her lover.</p>
+
+<p>
+The cricket also devours a small portion of her &quot;debonair&quot; admirer.</p>
+
+<p>
+The Ephippigera &quot;excavates the stomach of her companion and eats him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+But the horror of these nuptial tragedies is surpassed by the insatiable lust, the
+monstrous conjunction, the bestial delights of the Mantis, that &quot;ferocious
+spectre, never wearied of embraces, munching the brains of its spouse at the
+very moment of surrendering her flanks to him.&quot; <a href="#C11-4">(11/4.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Whence these strange discords, these frightful appetites?</p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre refers us to the remotest ages, to the depths of the geological night, and does
+not hesitate to regard these cruelties as &quot;remnants of atavism,&quot; the
+lingering furies of an ancient strain, and he ventures a profound and plausible
+explanation.</p>
+
+<p>
+The Locusts, the Crickets, and the Scolopendrae are the last representatives of a
+very ancient world, of an extinct fauna, of an early creation, whose perverse
+and unbridled instincts were given free vent, when creation was as yet but
+dimly outlined, &quot;still making the earliest essays of its organizing
+forces&quot;; when the primitive Orthoptera, &quot;the obscure forebears of
+those of to&#8209;day, were &quot;sowing the wild oats of a frantic rut,
+&quot;in the colossal forests of the secondary period; by the borders of the
+vast lakes, full of crocodiles, and antediluvian marshes, which in Provence
+were shaded by palms, and strange ferns, and giant Lycopodia, never as yet
+enlivened by the song of a bird.</p>
+
+<p>
+These monstrosities, in which life was making its essays, were subject to singular
+physical necessities. The female reigned alone; the male did not as yet exist,
+or was tolerated only for the sake of his indispensable assistance. But he
+served also another and less obvious end; his substance, or at least some
+portion of his substance, was an almost necessary ingredient in the act of
+generation, something in the nature of a necessary excitant of the ovaries,
+&quot;a horrible titbit,&quot; which completed and consummated the great task
+of fecundation. Such, in Fabre's eyes, was the imperious physiological reason
+of these rude laws. This is why the love of the males is almost equivalent to their
+suicide; the Gardener-beetle, attacked by the female, attempts to flee, but
+does not defend himself; &quot;it is as though an invincible repugnance
+prevents him from repulsing or from eating the eater.&quot; In the same way the
+male scorpion &quot;allows himself to be devoured by his companion without ever
+attempting to employ his sting,&quot; and the lover of the Mantis &quot;allows
+himself to be nibbled to pieces without any revolt on his part.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+A strange morality, but not more strange than the organic peculiarities which are
+its foundation; a strange world, but perhaps some distant sun may light others
+like it.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+These terrible creatures are a source of dismay to Fabre. If all things proceed from
+an underlying Reason, if the divine harmony of things testifies everywhere to a
+sovereign Logic, how shall the proofs of its excellence and its sovereign
+wisdom be found in such things as these?</p>
+
+<p>
+Far from attributing to the order of the universe a supposed perfection, far from
+considering nature as the most immediate expression of the Good and the
+Beautiful, in the words of Tolstoy <a href="#C11-5">(11/5.)</a>, he sees in it only a rough sketch
+which a hidden God, hidden, but close at hand, and living eternally present in
+the heart of His creatures, is seeking to test and to shape.</p>
+
+<p>
+Living always with his eyes upon some secret of the marvels of God, whom he sees in
+every bush, in every tree, &quot;although He is veiled from our imperfect
+senses&quot; <a href="#C11-6">(11/6.)</a>, the vilest insect reveals to him, in the least of its
+actions, a fragment of this universal Intelligence.</p>
+
+<p>
+What marvels indeed when seen from above! But consider the Reverse--what antinomies,
+what flagrant contradictions! What poor and sordid means! And Fabre is
+astonished, in spite of all his candid faith, that the fatality of the belly
+should have entered into the Divine plan, and the necessity of all those
+atrocious acts in which the Unconscious delights. Could not God ensure the
+preservation of life by less violent means? Why these subterranean dramas,
+these slow assassinations? Why has Evil, <b><i>the poison of the good</i></b>
+<a href="#C11-7">(11/7.)</a>, crept in everywhere, even to the origin of life,
+like an eternal Parasite?</p>
+
+<p>
+Within this fatal circle, in which the devourer and the devoured, the exploiter and
+the exploited, lead an eternal dance, can we not perceive a ray of light?</p>
+
+<p>
+For what is it that we see?</p>
+
+<p>
+The victims are not merely the predestined victims of their persecutors. They seek
+neither to struggle nor to escape nor to evade the inevitable; one might say
+that by a kind of renunciation they offer themselves up whole as a sacrifice!</p>
+
+<p>
+What irresistible destiny impels the bee to meet half-way the Philanthus, its
+terrible enemy! The Tarantula, which could so easily withstand the Pompilus,
+when the latter rashly carries war into its lair, does not disturb itself, and
+never dreams of using its poisoned fangs. Not less absolute is the submission
+of the grasshopper before the Mantis, which itself has its tyrant, the
+Tachytes.</p>
+
+<p>
+Similarly those which have reason to fear for their offspring, if not for themselves, do
+nothing to evade the enemy which watches for them; the Megachile, although it
+could easily destroy it, is indifferent to the presence of a miserable midge,
+&quot;the bandit who is always there, meditating its crime&quot;; the Bembex,
+confronted with the Tachinarius, cannot control its terror, but nevertheless
+resigns itself, while squeaking with fright.</p>
+
+<p>
+If each creature is what it is only because it is a necessary part of the plan of
+the supreme Artisan who has constructed the universe, why have some the right
+of life and death and others the terrible duty of immolation?</p>
+
+<p>
+Do not both obey, not the gloomy law of carnage, but a kind of sovereign and
+exquisite sacrifice, some sort of unconscious idea of submission to a superior
+and collective interest?</p>
+
+<p>
+This hypothesis, which was one day suggested to Fabre by a friend of great
+intellectual culture <a href="#C11-8">(11/8.)</a>, charmed and interested him keenly. I noticed that
+he was more than usually attentive, and he seemed to me to be suddenly
+reassured and appeased. For him it was as though a faint ray of light had
+suddenly fallen among these impenetrable and distressing problems.</p>
+
+<p>
+It seemed to him that by setting before our eyes the spectacle of so many woes,
+universally distributed, and doubtless necessary, woes which do not spare even
+the humblest of creatures, the Sovereign Intelligence intends to exhort us to
+examine ourselves truly and to dispose us to greater love and pity and
+resignation.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+All his work is highly and essentially religious; and while he has given us a taste
+for nature, he has not also endeavoured to give us, according to the expression
+of Bossuet &quot;the taste for God,&quot; or at least a sense of the divine? In
+opposing the doctrine of evolution, which reduces the animal world to the mere
+virtualities of the cell; in revealing to us all these marvels which seem
+destined always to escape human comprehension; finally, by referring us more
+necessarily than ever to the unfathomable problem of our origins, Fabre has
+reopened the door of mystery, the door of the divine Unknown, in which the
+religion of men must always renew itself. We should belittle his thought, we
+should dwarf the man himself, were we to seek to confine to any particular
+thesis his spiritualistic conception of the universe.</p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre recognizes and adores in nature only the great eternal Power, whose imprint is
+everywhere revealed by the phenomena of matter.</p>
+
+<p>
+For this reason he has all his life remained free from all superstition and has
+been completely indifferent to dogmas and miracles, which to his mind imply not
+only a profound ignorance of science, but also a gross and complete
+miscomprehension of the divine Intelligence. He kneels upon the ground or among
+the grasses only the more closely to adore that force, the source of all order,
+the intuitive knowledge of which, innate in all creatures, even in the tiny
+immovable minds of animals, is merely a magnificent and gratuitous gift. The
+office in which he eagerly communicates is that glorious and formidable Mass in
+which the ragged sower, &quot;noble in his tatters, a pontiff in shabby small-clothes,
+solemn as a God, blesses the soil, more majestic than the bishop in his glory
+at Easter-tide.&quot; <a href="#C11-9">(11/9.)</a> It is there that he finds his &quot;Ideal,&quot;
+in the incense of the perfumes &quot;which are softly exhaled from the shapely
+flowers, from their censers of gold,&quot; in the heart of all creatures,
+&quot;chaffinch and siskin, skylark and goldfinch, tiny choristers&quot; piping
+and trilling, &quot;elaborating their motets&quot; to the glory of Him who gave
+them voice and wings on the fifth day of Genesis. He fraternizes with all, with
+his dogs and his cats, his tame tortoise, and even the &quot;slimy and swollen
+frog&quot;; the &quot;Philosopher&quot; of the Harmas, whose murky eyes he
+loves to interrogate as he paces his garden &quot;by the light of the
+stars&quot;; persuaded that all are accomplishing a useful work, and that all
+creatures, from the humblest insect which has only nibbled a leaf, or displaced
+a few grains of sand, to man himself, are anointed with the same chrism of
+immortality.</p>
+
+<p>
+And as he has always set the pleasures of study before all others, he can
+imagine no greater recompense after death than to obtain from heaven permission
+still to continue in their midst, during eternity, his life of labour and effort.</p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAP12">CHAPTER 12. THE INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.</a></h2>
+
+<p>
+We have noted the essential features of his precise and unfailing vision and the
+value of the documents which record the work of Fabre, but the writer merits no
+less attention than the observer and the philosopher.</p>
+
+<p>
+In the domain of things positive, it is not always sufficient to gather the facts,
+to record them, and to codify in bare formulae the results of inquiry.
+Doubtless every essential discovery is able to stand by itself; in what would
+an inventor profit, for example, by raising himself to the level of the artist?
+&quot;For the theorem lucidity suffices; truth issues naked from the bottom of
+a well.&quot;</p>
+
+
+<p>
+But the manner of speaking, describing, and depicting is none the less an integral
+part of the truth when it is a matter of expounding and transmitting the
+latter. To express it feebly is often to compromise it, to diminish it; and
+even to betray it. There are terms which say better than others what has to be
+said. &quot;Words have their physiognomy; if there are lifeless words, there
+are also picturesque and richly-coloured words, comparable to the brush strokes
+which scatter flecks of light on the grey background of the picture.&quot;
+There are particular terms of expression, felicities which present things in a
+better light, and the writer must search in his memory, his imagination, and
+his heart, for the fitting accent; for the flexibility of language and the
+wealth of words which are needful if he would fully succeed in the portrayal of
+living creatures; if he would tender the living truth, reproduce in all its
+light and shade the spectacle of the world, arouse the imagination, and
+faithfully interpret the mysterious spirit which impregnates matter and is
+reflected in thought.</p>
+
+<p>
+The artist then comes forward to co-ordinate all these scattered fragments, to
+assemble them, to breathe vitality into them, to restore these inert truths to
+life.</p>
+
+<p>
+But what a strange manner of working was Fabre's; what a curious method of
+composition! However full of ideas his mind might be, he was incapable of
+expressing them if he remained in one place and assumed the ordinary preliminary
+attitude of a man preparing to write. Seated and motionless, his limbs at rest,
+pen in hand, with a blank page before him, it seemed to him that all his
+faculties became of a sudden paralysed. He must first move about; activity
+helped him to pursue his ideas; it was in action that he recovered his ardour
+and uncovered the sources of inspiration. Just as he never observed without
+enthusiasm, so he found it impossible to write without exaltation, and it was
+precisely because he so ardently loved the truth that he felt himself compelled
+to show it in all its beauty.</p>
+
+<p>
+Moving like a circus-horse about the great table of his laboratory, he would begin to
+tramp indefatigably round and round, so that his steps have worn in the tiles
+of the floor an ineffaceable record of the concentric track in which they moved
+incessantly for thirty years.</p>
+
+<p>
+His mind would grow clear and active as he walked, smoking his pipe and &quot;using
+his marrow-bones.&quot; <a href="#C12-1">(12/1.)</a> He was already at work; he was
+&quot;hammering&quot; his future chapters in his brain; for the idea would be
+all the more precise as the form was more finished and more irreproachable,
+more closely identified with the thought; he would wait until the word
+quivered, palpitated, and lived; until the transcription was no longer an illusion,
+a phantom, a vision devoid of reality, but a faithful echo, a sincere
+translation, a finished interpretation, reflecting entire the fundamental
+essence of the thing; in a word, a work of art, a parallel to nature.</p>
+
+<p>
+Then only would he sit before the little walnut-wood table &quot;spotted with ink
+and scarred with knife-cuts, just big enough to hold the inkstand, a halfpenny
+bottle, and his open notebook&quot;: that same little table at which, in other
+days, by force of meditation, he achieved his first degrees.</p>
+
+<p>
+Then he would begin to write, &quot;his pen dipped not in ink only&quot; but in his
+heart's blood <a href="#C12-2">(12/2.)</a>; first of all in ordinary ruled notebooks bound in black
+cloth, in which he noted, day by day, hour by hour, the observations of every
+moment, the results of his experiments, together with his thoughts and
+reflections. Little by little those documents would come together which
+elucidated and completed one another, and at last the book was written. These
+notebooks, these copious records, are remarkable for the regularity of the
+writing and the often impeccable finish of the first draught. Although here and
+there the same data are transcribed several times in succession, and each time
+struck through with a vigorous stroke of the pen, there are whole pages, and many
+pages together, without a single erasure. The handwriting, excessively
+small--one might think it had been traced by the feet of a fly--becomes in
+later years so minute that one almost needs a magnifying glass to decipher it.</p>
+
+<p>
+These notebooks are not the final manuscript. The entomologist would write a new and
+more perfect copy on loose sheets of paper, making one draught after another,
+patiently fashioning his style and polishing his work, although many passages
+were included without revision as they were written in the first instance.</p>
+
+<p>
+The greatest magician of modern letters, versed in all the artifices of the French
+language, speaking one day of Fabre and his writings, made in my hearing the
+assertion that he was not, properly speaking, an artist. He might well be a
+great naturalist, a veteran of science, an observer of genius, but he was by no
+means and would never be a writer according to the canons of the craft.</p>
+
+<p>
+But how many others, like him, in their time regarded as &quot;pitiable in respect
+of their language,&quot; charm us to&#8209;day, simply because they were gifted
+with imagination and the power of giving life to their work! <a href="#C12-3">(12/3.)</a></p>
+
+
+<p>
+To tell the truth, Fabre is absolutely careless of all literary procedure, and
+solely preoccupied with bringing his style into harmony with his thoughts; he
+is not in the least a manufacturer of literary phrases. There is no trace of
+artistic writing in his books, and it is only his manner of feeling and of
+expressing himself that makes him so dear to us.</p>
+
+<p>
+What touches us in him is the accent, the simplicity, the measure, the good sense,
+and the perfect equilibrium of each of these pages: simple, often commonplace,
+even incorrect or trivial, but so alive, so human, that the blood seems to flow
+in them. It is the lover in Fabre that draws us to him; nothing quite like his
+work has been seen since the days of Jean de La Fontaine.</p>
+
+<p>
+He has liberated science; he laughs at the specialists who take refuge behind
+their &quot;barbarian terminologies,&quot; at the &quot;jargon&quot; of those
+&quot;who see the world only through the wrong end of the glass&quot;; at the
+exaggerated importance which they attribute to insignificant details, the
+narrowness of classifications, and the chaos of systems; all that incoherent,
+remote, and inaccessible science, which he, on the contrary, strives to render
+pleasant and attractive.</p>
+
+<p>
+This is why the great scientist has endeavoured to speak like other people,
+preferring, to the harsh consonants of technical phrases which sound &quot;like
+insults&quot; or have the air of &quot;a magical invocation, which make certain
+scientific works read like so much gibberish,&quot; the &quot;naive and
+picturesque appellation, the familiar, trivial name, the popular, living term
+which directly interprets the exact signification of the habits of an insect,
+or informs us fully of its dominant characteristic, or which, at least, leaves
+nothing to conjecture.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+He considers it useless and even inconvenient to abandon many charming
+expressions, appropriate and significant as they are, which may be borrowed
+from the good old French tongue; and in this he resembles the immortal de
+Jussieu, who in his botanical classifications was careful not to discard the
+old popular denominations which Theophrastus, Virgil, and Linnaeus had thought
+fit to bestow upon plant and tree.</p>
+
+<p>
+It is for the same reasons that he loves the Provençal tongue; that beautiful
+idiom, that superb language, rich in music, in sonorous words, so suggestive
+and so full of colour, many of whose terms, saying precisely what they intend
+to say, have no equivalent in French. He has learned the language, and reads
+it: in particular Roumanille, whose easy, familiar style pleases him better
+than the grandiloquence of Mistral, although he delights also in Calendal,
+whose lyrical powers fill him with enthusiasm. From this ancient tongue, which
+was early as familiar to him as the French, he borrowed certain mannerisms,
+certain tricks of style, certain neologisms, and also, to some extent, his
+simplicity of manner and the cadence of his prose.</p>
+
+<p>
+It was not without difficulty that he attained this mastery. Measure the gulf
+between his first volumes and his last; in the first the style is slightly
+nerveless and indefinite: it was only as he gradually advanced in his career
+that he acquired what may be called his final manner, or achieved, in his
+narratives, a perfect literary style. The most substantially constructed, the
+most happily expressed of his pages were written principally in his extreme old
+age. Not only is there no sign of failing in these, but in his latest
+&quot;Souvenirs&quot; the perfection of form is perhaps even more remarkable
+than the wealth of matter.</p>
+
+<p>
+How vitally his scrupulous records impress the mind's eye; how firmly they
+establish themselves in the memory!</p>
+
+<p>
+Even if one has never seen the Pelopaeus, one readily conceives an impression of
+&quot;her wasp-like costume, and curving abdomen, suspended at the end of a
+long thread.&quot; What exactitude in this snapshot, taken at the moment when
+the insect is occupied in scooping out of the mire the lump of mud intended for
+the construction of her nest: &quot;like a skilled housekeeper, with her
+clothing carefully tucked up that it may not be soiled, the wings vibrating,
+the limbs rigidly straightened, the black abdomen well raised on the end of its
+yellow stalk, she rakes the mud with the points of her mandibles, skimming the
+shining surface.&quot; <a href="#C12-4">(12/4.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+He draws, in passing, this charming sketch of the gadfly, the pest of horses,
+which nourishes itself with their blood: </p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;Gadflies of several species used to take refuge under the silken dome of my umbrella,
+and there they would quietly rest, one here, one there, on the tightly
+stretched fabric; I rarely lacked their company when the heat was overpowering.
+To while away the hours of waiting, I used to love to watch their great golden
+eyes, which would shine like carbuncles on the vaulted ceiling of my shelter; I
+used to love to watch them slowly change their stations, when the excessive
+heat of some point of the ceiling would force them to move a little.&quot;
+<a href="#C12-5">(12/5.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+We follow all the manoeuvres of the Balaninus, the acorn-weevil, &quot;burying her
+drill&quot; which &quot;operates by means of little bites.&quot; The narrator
+calls our attention to the slightest episodes, even to those accidents which
+sometimes surprise the worker in the course of her labours; when, with the
+rostrum buried deep in the acorn, her feet suddenly lose their hold. Then the
+unhappy creature, unable to free herself, finds herself suspended in the air,
+at right angles to her proboscis, far from any foothold or point of vantage, at
+the extremity of her disproportionately long pike, that &quot;fatal
+stake.&quot; <a href="#C12-6">(12/6.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+As for the poplar-weevil, we can almost see it moving &quot;in the subtlest
+equilibrium, clinging with its hooked talons to the slippery surface of the
+leaf&quot;; we watch all the details of its methods and the progress of its
+labours. We see the flexed leaf assume the vertical under the awl-stroke which
+the insect applies to the pedicle, &quot;when, partially deprived of sap, the
+leaf becomes more flexible, more malleable; it is in a sense partly paralysed,
+only half alive.&quot; Then we follow the rolling process; &quot;the
+imperturbable deliberation of the worker as it rolls its cigar, which finally
+hangs perpendicularly at the end of the bent and wounded stem.&quot; <a href="#C12-7">(12/7.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre, like a true artist, finds all sorts of expressions to describe the tiny,
+fragile eggs of his insects; little shining pearls, delicious coffers of nickel
+or amber, miniature pots of translucid alabaster, &quot;which we might think
+were stolen from the cupboard of a fairy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+He opens the enchanted alcoves wherein the puny grubs lie slumbering, &quot;fat,
+rounded puppets&quot;; the tender larvae which &quot;gape and swing their heads
+to and fro&quot; when the mother returns to the nest with her toothsome
+mouthful or her crop swollen with honey.</p>
+
+<p>
+What compassion, what tenderness, what sensitiveness in the affecting picture of the
+mother Halictus, abandoned, deprived of her offspring, bewildered and lost,
+when the terrible spring fly has destroyed her house: bald, emaciated, shabby,
+careworn, already dogged by the small grey lizard! <a href="#C12-8">(12/8.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+The tragedy of the wasps' nest at the approach of the first chills of winter is the
+final fragment of an epic. At first there is a sort of uneasiness, &quot;a
+species of indifference and anxiety which broods over the city&quot;; already
+it has a presentiment of coming misfortune, of an approaching catastrophe.
+Presently a wild excitement ensues; the foster-mothers, &quot;frightened,
+fierce, and restless,&quot; as though suddenly attacked by an incomprehensible
+insanity, conceive an aversion for the young; &quot;the neuters extirpate the
+larvae and drag them out of the nest,&quot; and the drama of destruction draws
+to a close with &quot;the final catastrophe; the infirm and the dying are
+dismembered, eviscerated, dissected in a heap in the catacombs by maggots,
+woodlice, and centipedes.&quot; Finally the moth comes upon the scene, its
+larvae &quot;attacking the dwelling itself; gnawing and destroying the joists
+and rafters, until all is reduced to a few pinches of dust and shreds of grey
+paper.&quot; <a href="#C12-9">(12/9.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+What picturesque expressions he employs to depict, by means of some significant
+feature, the striking peculiarities of the insect physiognomy!</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;The gipsy who night and day for seven months goes to and fro with her brats upon
+her back&quot; is the Lycosa, the Tarantula with the black stomach, the great
+spider of the wastes.</p>
+
+<p>
+The larva of the great Capricornis, which gnaws the interior of old oak-trees,
+&quot;leaving behind it, in the form of dry-rot, the refuse of its digestive
+processes,&quot; is &quot;a scrap of intestine which eats its way as it
+goes.&quot;</p>
+
+
+<p>
+In &quot;that hideous lout&quot; the Scorpion he shows us a rough epitome of the
+shapeless head, the truncated face of the spider.</p>
+
+<p>
+The Tachinae, those &quot;brazen diptera&quot; which swarm on the sunny sand on the
+watch for Bembex or Philanthus, in order to establish their offspring at its
+expense, &quot;are bandits clad in fustian, the head wrapped in a red
+handkerchief, awaiting the hour of attack!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+The Languedocian Sphex, sprawling flat upon the vine leaves, grows dizzy with the
+heat and frisks for very pleasure; &quot;with its feet it taps rapidly on its
+resting-place, and thus produces a drumming like that of a shower of rain
+falling thickly on the leaves.&quot; Fabre takes a keen delight in the
+production of these pictures, at once so exact and lifelike; but we must not
+therefore suppose that his mind is incapable of the detailed descriptions
+necessitated by the laborious processes of minute anatomy.</p>
+
+<p>
+Like all sciences, entomology has its uninteresting aspects when we seek to study it
+deeply. Yet with what interest and lucidity has Fabre succeeded in expounding
+the complex morphoses of the obscure and miserable larva of the Sitaris, the
+curious intestine of the Scarabaeus, the secret of the spawning of the weevil,
+and the ingenious mechanisms of the musical instruments of the Decticus and the
+Cicada. With what subtle art he explains the song of the cricket, how the five
+hundred prisms of the serrated bow set the four tympana in vibration; and how
+the song is sometimes muffled by a process of muting. <a href="#C12-10">(12/10.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Some of the images suggested to him by the forms of animals are so beautiful that
+certain of his descriptions might well serve to inspire an artist, or suggest
+new motives of decoration in the arts of enamelling, gem-engraving, jewellery,
+etc.</p>
+
+<p>
+Instead of eternally copying ancient things, or seeking inspiration in lifeless texts,
+why not turn our attention to the numerous and interesting motives which are
+scattered all around us, whose originality consists precisely in the fact that
+they have never yet been employed? Why torture the mind to produce more painful
+elaborations of awkward, frozen, poverty-stricken combinations, when Nature
+herself is at hand, offering the inexhaustible casket of her living marvels,
+full of the profoundest logic and as yet unexamined?</p>
+
+<p>
+If the bee by means of the hexagonal prism has anticipated all the geometers in
+the problem of the economy of space and matter; if the Epeïra and the mollusc
+have invented the logarithmic spiral and its transcendent properties; if all
+creatures &quot;inspired by an aesthetic which nothing escapes, achieve the
+beautiful&quot; <a href="#C12-11">(12/11.)</a>, surely human art, which can but imitate and remember,
+has only to employ to its profit and transfigure into ideal images the natural
+beauties so profusely furnished by the Unconscious.</p>
+
+<p>
+Modern art, influenced more especially by the subtle Japanese, is already treading
+this path.</p>
+
+<p>
+What artist could ever engrave on rare metals or model in precious substances a more
+beautiful subject than the wonderful picture of the Tarantula offering, at the
+length of her extended limbs, her white sac of eggs to the sun; or the
+transparent nymph of the Onthophagus taurus, &quot;as though carved from a
+block of crystal, with its wide snout and its enormous horns like those of the
+Aurochs&quot;? <a href="#C12-12">(12/12.)</a> What an undiscovered subject he might find in the nymph
+of the Ergatus <a href="#C12-13">(12/13.)</a>, with its almost incorporeal grace, as though made of
+&quot;translucent ivory, like a communicant in her white veils, the arms
+crossed upon the breast; a living symbol of mystic resignation before the
+accomplishment of destiny&quot;; or in the still more mysterious nymph of the
+Scarabaeus sacer, first of all &quot;a mummy of translucent amber, maintained
+by its linen cerements in a hieratic pose; but soon upon this background of
+topaz, the head, the legs, and the thorax change to a sombre red, while the
+rest of the body remains white, and the nymph is slowly transfigured, assuming
+that majestic costume which combines the red of the cardinal's mantle with the
+whiteness of the sacerdotal alb.&quot;</p>
+
+
+<p>
+On the other hand, what Sims or Bateman ever imagined weirder caricature than
+the grotesque larva of the Oniticella, with its extravagant dorsal hump; or
+the fantastic and alarming silhouette of the Empusa, with its scaly belly raised
+crozierwise and mounted on four long stilts, its pointed face, turned-up moustaches,
+great prominent eyes, and a &quot;stupendous mitre&quot;: the most grotesque,
+the most fantastic freaks that creation can ever have evolved? <a href="#C12-14">(12/14.)</a></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAP13">CHAPTER 13. THE EPIC OF ANIMAL LIFE.</a></h2>
+
+<p>
+Although in his portraits and descriptions Fabre is simple and exact, and so full of
+natural geniality; although he can so handle his words as to render them
+&quot;adequate&quot; to reproduce the moving pictures of the tiny creatures he
+observes, his style touches a higher level, flashes with colour, and grows rich
+with imagery when he seeks to interpret the feelings which animate them: their
+loves, their battles, their cunning schemes, and the pursuit of their prey; all
+that vast drama which everywhere accompanies the travail of creation.</p>
+
+<p>
+It is here in particular that Fabre shows us what horizons, as yet almost
+unexplored, what profound and inexhaustible resources science is able to offer
+poetry.</p>
+
+<p>
+The breaking of egg or chrysalid is in itself a moving event; for to attain to the
+light is for all these creatures &quot;a prodigious travail.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+The hour of spring has sounded. At the call of the field-cricket, the herald of the
+spring, the germs that slumber in nymph or chrysalis have broken through their
+spell.</p>
+
+<p>
+What haste and ingenuity are required to emerge from the natal darkness, to unwrap
+the swaddling-bands, to break the subterranean shells, to demolish the waxen
+bulkheads, to perforate the soil or to escape from prisons of silk!</p>
+
+<p>
+The woodland bug, whose egg is a masterpiece, invents I know not what magical
+centre-bit, what curious piece of locksmith's work, in order to unlock its
+natal casket and achieve its liberty.</p>
+
+<p>
+For days the grasshopper &quot;butts its head against the roughness of the soil,
+and wars upon the pebbles; by dint of frantic wriggling it escapes from the
+womb of the earth, bursts its old coat, and is transfigured, opening its eyes
+to the light, and leaping for the first time.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+The Bombyx of the pine-tree &quot;decks its brow with points of diamond, spreads
+its wings, and erects its plumes, and shakes out its fleece to fly only in the
+darkness, to wed the same night, and to die on the morrow.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+What marvellous inventions, what machinery, what incredible contrivances, &quot;in
+order that a tiny fly can emerge from under ground&quot;!</p>
+
+<p>
+The Anthrax assumes a panoply of trepans, an assortment of gimlets and knives,
+harpoons and grapnels, in order to perforate its ceiling of cement; then the
+lugubrious black fly appears, all moist as yet with the humours of the
+laboratory of life, steadies itself upon its trembling legs, dries its wings,
+quits its suit of armour, and takes flight.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+The blue-fly, buried in the depth of the sand, &quot;cracks its barrel-shaped
+coffin,&quot; and splits its mask, in order to disinter itself; the head
+divides into two halves, between which we see emerging and disappearing by
+turns a monstrous tumour, which comes and goes, swells and shrivels,
+palpitates, labours, lunges, and retires, thus compressing and gradually
+undermining the sand, until at last the newborn fly emerges from the depth of
+the catacombs. <a href="#C13-1">(13/1.)</a></p>
+
+
+<p>
+Certain young spiders, in order to emancipate themselves, to conquer space, and
+disperse themselves about the world, resort to an ingenious system of aviation.
+They gain the highest point of the thicket, and release a thread, which, seized
+by the wind, carries them away suspended. Each shines like a point of light
+against the foliage of the cypresses. There is a continuous stream of tiny
+passengers, leaping and descending in scattered sheaves under the caresses of
+the sun, like atomic projectiles, like the fountain of fire at a pyrotechnic
+display. What a glorious departure, what an entry into the world! Gripping its
+aeronautic thread, the insect ascends in apotheosis! <a href="#C13-2">(13/2.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+But if all are called all are not chosen. &quot;How many can move only at the
+greatest peril under the rugged earth, proceeding from shock to shock, in the
+harsh womb of universal life, and, arrested by a grain of sand, succumb
+half-way&quot;!</p>
+
+<p>
+There are others whom slower metamorphoses condemn to vegetate still longer in the
+subterranean night, before they are permitted to assume their festival attire,
+and share in their turn in the gladness of creation.</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus the Cicada is forced to labour for long gloomy years in the darkness before it
+can emerge from the soil. At the moment when it issues from the earth the
+larva, soiled with mire, &quot;resembles a sewer-man; its eyes are whitish,
+nebulous, squinting, blind.&quot; Then &quot;it clings to some twig, it splits
+down the back, rejects its discarded skin, drier than horny parchment, and
+becomes the Cigale, which is at first of a pale grass-green hue.&quot; Then, </p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;Half drunken with her joy, she feasts<br>
+In a hail of fire&quot;; </p>
+
+<p>
+And all day long drinks of the sugared sap of tender bark, and is silent only at
+night, sated with light and heat. The song, which forms part of the majestic
+symphony of the harvest-tide, announces merely its delight in existence. Having
+passed years underground, the cigale has only a month to reign, to be happy in
+a world of light, under the caressing sun. Judge whether the wild little
+cymbals can ever be loud enough &quot;to celebrate such felicity, so well
+earned and so ephemeral&quot;! <a href="#C13-3">(13/3.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+All sing for happiness, each after its kind, through the calm of the summer days.
+Their minds are intoxicated; it is their fashion of praying, of adoring, of
+expressing &quot;the joys of life: a full crop and the sun on the back.&quot;
+Even the humble grasshopper rubs its flanks to express its joy, raises and
+lowers its shanks till its wing-cases squeak, and is enchanted with its own
+music, which it commences or terminates suddenly &quot;according to the
+alternations of sun and shade.&quot; Each insect has its rhythm, strident or
+barely perceptible; the music of the thickets and fallows caressed by the sun,
+rising and falling in waves of joyful life.</p>
+
+<p>
+The insects make merry; they hold uproarious festival; and they mate insatiably;
+even before forming a mutual acquaintance; in a furious rush of living, for
+&quot;love is the sole joy of the animal,&quot; and &quot;to love is to
+die.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Hardly unwrapped, still dusty from the strenuous labour of deliverance, &quot;the
+female of the Scolia is seized by the male, who does not even give her time to
+wash her eyes.&quot; Having slept over a year underground, the Sitares, barely
+rid of their mummy-cases, taste, in the sunlight, a few minutes of love, on the
+very site of their re-birth; then they die. Life surges, burns, flares,
+sparkles, rushes &quot;in a perpetual tide,&quot; a brief radiance between two
+nights.</p>
+
+<p>
+A world of a myriad fairies fills the rustling forest: day and night it unfolds a
+thousand marvellous pictures; about the root of a bramble, in the shadow of an
+old wall, on a slope of loose soil, or in the dense thickets.</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;The insect is transfigured for the nuptial ceremony; and each hopes, in its ritual,
+to declare its passion.&quot; Fabre had some thought of writing the Golden Book
+of their bridals and their wedding festivals <a href="#C13-4">(13/4.)</a>; the Kamasutra of their
+feasts and rules of love; and with what art, at once frank and reserved, has he
+here and there handled this wonderful theme! In the radiant garden of delight,
+where no detail of truth is omitted, but where nothing shocks us, Fabre reveals
+himself as he is in his conversation; evading the subject where it takes a
+licentious turn; fundamentally chaste and extremely reserved.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+At the foot of the rocks the Psyche &quot;appears in the balcony of her boudoir,
+in the rays of the caressing sun; lying on the cloudy softness of an
+incomparable eider-down.&quot; She awaits the visit of the spouse, &quot;the
+gentle Bombyx,&quot; who, for the ceremony, &quot;has donned his feathery
+plumes and his mantle of black velvet.&quot; &quot;If he is late in coming, the
+female grows impatient; then she herself makes the advances, and sets forth in
+search of her mate.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Drawn by the same voluptuous and overwhelming force, the cricket ventures to leave
+his burrow. Adorned &quot;in his fairest attire, black jacket, more beauteous
+than satin, with a stripe of carmine on the thigh,&quot; he wanders through the
+wild herbage, &quot;by the discreet glimmer of twilight,&quot; until he reaches
+the distant lodging of the beloved. There at last he arrives &quot;upon the sanded
+walk, the court of honour that precedes the entry.&quot; But already the place
+is occupied by another aspirant. Then the two rivals fall upon one another,
+biting one another's heads, &quot;until it ends by the retreat of the weaker,
+whom the victor insults by a bravura cry.&quot; The happy champion bridles,
+assuming a proud air, as of one who knows himself a handsome fellow, before the
+fair one, who feigns to hide herself behind her tuft of aphyllantus, all
+covered with azure flowers. &quot;With a gesture of a fore-limb he passes one
+of his antennae through his mandibles as though to curl it; with his
+long-spurred, red-striped legs he shuffles with impatience; he kicks the empty
+air; but emotion renders him mute.&quot; <a href="#C13-5">(13/5.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+In the foliage of the ash-tree the lover of the female Cantharis thrashes his
+companion, who makes herself as small as she can, hiding her head in her bosom;
+he bangs her with his fists, buffets her with his abdomen, &quot;subjects her
+to an erotic storm, a rain of blows&quot;; then, with his arms crossed, he
+remains a moment motionless and trembling; finally, seizing both antennae of
+the desired one, he forces her to raise her head &quot;like a cavalier proudly
+seated on horse and holding the reins in his hands.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+The Osmiae &quot;reply by a click of the jaws to the advances of their lovers, who
+recoil, and then, doubtless to make themselves more valiant, they also execute
+a ferocious mandibular grimace. With this byplay of the jaws and their menacing
+gestures of the head in the empty air the lovers have the air of intending to
+eat one another.&quot; Thus they preface their bridals by displays of
+gallantry, recalling the ancient betrothal customs of which Rabelais speaks;
+the pretenders were cuffed and derided and threatened with a hearty pummelling.
+<a href="#C13-6">(13/6.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+On the arid hillsides, where the doubtful rays of the moon pierce the storm-clouds
+and illumine the sultry atmosphere, the pale scorpions, with short-sighted
+eyes, hideous monsters with misshapen heads, &quot;display their strange faces,
+and two by two, hand in hand, stalk in measured paces amid the tufts of
+lavender. How tell their joys, their ecstasies, that no human language can
+express...!&quot; <a href="#C13-7">(13/7.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+However, the glow-worm, to guide the lover, lights its beacon &quot;like a spark fallen
+from the full moon&quot;; but &quot;presently the light grows feebler, and
+fades to a discreet nightlight, while all around the host of nocturnal
+creatures, delayed in their affairs, murmur the general epithalamium.&quot;
+<a href="#C13-8">(13/8.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+But their happy time is soon over; tragedy is about to follow idyll.</p>
+
+<p>
+One must live, and &quot;the intestine rules the world.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+All creatures that fill the world are incessantly conflicting, and one lives only
+at the cost of another.</p>
+
+<p>
+On the other hand, in order that the coming generations may see the light, the
+present generations must think of the preservation of the young. &quot;Perish
+all the rest provided the brood flourish!&quot; And in the depth of burrows the
+future larvae who live only for their stomachs, &quot;little ogres, greedy of
+living flesh,&quot; must have their prey.</p>
+
+<p>
+To hunger and maternity let us also add love, which &quot;rules the world by
+conflict.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Such are the components of the &quot;struggle for existence,&quot; such as Fabre has
+described it, but with no other motive than to describe what he has observed
+and seen. Such are the ordinary themes of the grandiose battles which he has
+scattered through his narratives, and never did circus or arena offer more
+thrilling spectacles; no jungle ever hid more moving combats in its
+thickets.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;Each has its ruses of war, its methods of attack, its methods of killing.&quot;</p>
+
+
+<p>
+What tactics--&quot;studied, scientific, worthy of the athletes of the ancient
+palaestra&quot;--are those which the Sphex employs to paralyse the Cricket and
+the Cerceris to capture the Cleona, to secure them in a suitable place, so as
+to operate on them more surely and at leisure!</p>
+
+<p>
+Beside these master paralysers, so expert in the art of dealing slow death, there are
+those which, with a precision no less scholarly, kill and wither their victims
+at a single stroke, and without leaving a trace: &quot;true practitioners in crime.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+On the rock-rose bushes, with their great pink flowers, &quot;the pretty Thomisus,
+the little crab-spider, clad in satin,&quot; watches for the domestic bee, and
+suddenly kills it, seizing the back of the head, while the Philanthus, also
+seizing it by the head, plunges its sting under the chin, neither too high nor
+too low, but &quot;exactly in the narrow joint of the neck,&quot; for both
+insects know that in this limited spot, in which is concentrated a small
+nervous mass, something like a brain, is &quot;the weak point, most vulnerable
+of all,&quot; the fault in the cuirass, the vital centre. Others, like the
+Araneidae, intoxicate their prey, and their subtle bite, &quot;which resembles
+a kiss,&quot; in whatever part of the body it is applied, &quot;produces almost
+immediately a gradual swoon.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus the great hairy Bourdon, in the course of its peregrinations across the wastes
+of thyme, sometimes foolishly strays into the lair of the Tarantula, whose eyes
+glimmer like jewels at the back of his den. Hardly has the insect disappeared
+underground than a sort of shrill rattling is heard, a &quot;true
+death-song,&quot; immediately followed by the completest silence. &quot;Only a
+moment, and the unfortunate creature is absolutely dead, proboscis outstretched
+and limbs relaxed. The bite of the rattlesnake would not produce a more sudden
+paralysis.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+The terrible spider &quot;crouching on the battlements of his castle, his heavy
+belly in the sun, attentive to the slightest rustling, leaps upon whatever
+passes, fly or Libellula, and with a single stroke strangles his victim, and
+drains its body, drinking the warm blood.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;To dislodge him from his keep needs all the cunning strategy of the Pompilus; a
+terrible duel, a hand-to-hand combat, stupendous, truly epic, in which the
+subtle address and the ingenious audacity of the winged insect eventually
+triumph over the dreadful spider and his poisoned fangs.&quot; <a href="#C13-9">(13/9.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+On the pink heather &quot;the timid spider of the thickets suspends by ethereal
+cables the branching whorl of his snare, which the tears of the night have
+turned into chaplets of jewels...The magical jewellery sparkles in the sun,
+attracting mosquitoes and butterflies; but whosoever approaches too closely
+perishes, a victim of curiosity.&quot; Above the funnel is the trap, &quot;a
+chaos of springs, a forest of cordage; like the rigging of a ship dismembered
+by the tempest. The desperate creature struggles in the shrouds of the rigging,
+then falls into the gloomy slaughter-house where the spider lurks ready to
+bleed his prey.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Death is everywhere.</p>
+
+<p>
+Each crevice of bark, each shadow of a leaf, conceals a hunter armed with a deadly
+weapon, all his senses on the alert. Everywhere are teeth, fangs, talons,
+stings, pincers, and scythes.</p>
+
+<p>
+Leaping in the long grasses, the Decticus with the ivory face &quot;crunches the heads
+of grasshoppers in his mandibles.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+A ferocious creature, the grub of the Hemerobius, disembowels plant-lice, making
+of their skins a battle-dress, covering its back with the eviscerated victims,
+&quot;as the Red Indian ties about his loins the tresses of his scalped
+enemies.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Caterpillars are surrounded by the implacable voracity of the Carabidae: </p>
+
+
+<p>
+&quot;The furry skins are gaping with wounds; their contents escape in knots of entrails,
+bright green with their aliment, the needles of the pine-tree; the caterpillars
+writhe, struggling with loop-like movements, gripping the sand with their feet,
+dribbling and gnashing their mandibles. Those as yet unwounded are digging
+desperately in the attempt to escape underground. Not one succeeds. They are
+scarcely half buried before some beetle runs to them and destroys them by an
+eviscerating wound.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+At the centre of its net, which seems &quot;woven of moonbeams,&quot; in the midst
+of its snare, a glutinous trap of infernal ingenuity, or hidden at a distance
+in its cabin of green leaves, the Epeïra fasciata waits and watches for its
+prey. Let the terrible hornet, or the Libellula auripennis, flying from stem to
+stem, fall into the limed snare; the insect struggles, endeavours to unwind
+itself; the net trembles violently as though it would be torn from its cables.
+Immediately the spider darts forward, running boldly to the intruder. With
+rapid gestures the two hinder limbs weave a winding-sheet of silk as they
+rotate the victim in order to enshroud it...The ancient Retiarius, condemned to
+meet a powerful beast of prey, appeared in the arena with a net of cordage
+lying upon his left shoulder; the animal sprang upon him; the man, with a
+sudden throw, caught it in the meshes; a stroke of the trident despatched it.
+Similarly the Epeïra throws its web, and when there is no longer any movement
+under the white shroud the spider draws closer; its venomous fangs perform the
+office of the trident. <a href="#C13-10">(13/10.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+The Praying Mantis, that demoniac creature which alone among the insects turns its
+head to gaze, &quot;whose pious airs conceal the most atrocious habits,&quot;
+remains on the watch, motionless, for hours at a time. Let a great grasshopper
+chance to come by: the Mantis follows it with its glance, glides between the
+leaves, and suddenly rises up before it; &quot;and then assumes its spectral
+pose, which terrifies and fascinates the prey; the wing-covers open, the wings
+spring to their full width, forming a vast pyramid which dominates the back; a
+sort of swishing sound is heard, like the hiss of a startled adder; the
+murderous fore-limbs open to their full extent, forming a cross with the body,
+and exhibiting the axillae ornamented with eyes vaguely resembling those of the
+peacock's tail, part of the panoply of war, concealed upon ordinary occasions.
+These are only exhibited when the creature makes itself terrible and superb for
+battle. Then the two grappling-hooks are thrown; the fangs strike, the double
+scythes close together and hold the victim as in a vice.&quot; <a href="#C13-11">(13/11.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+There is no peace; night falls and the horrible conflict continues in the darkness.
+Atrocious struggles, merciless duels, fill the summer nights. On the stems of
+the long grasses, beside the furrows, the glow-worm &quot;anaethetizes the
+snail,&quot; instilling into it its venom, which stupefies and produces sleep,
+in order to immobilize its prey before devouring it.</p>
+
+<p>
+Having chorused their joy all the day long in the sunshine, in the evening the Cicadae
+fall asleep among the olives and the lofty plane-trees. But suddenly there is a
+sound as of a cry of anguish, short and strident; it is the despairing
+lamentation of the cicada, surprised in repose by the green grasshopper, that
+ardent hunter of the night, which leaps upon the cicada, seizes it by the
+flank, and devours the contents of the stomach. After the orgy of music comes
+night and assassination.</p>
+
+<p>
+Such is the gloomy epic which goes forward among the flowers, amidst the foliage,
+under the shadowy boughs, and on the dusty fallows. Such are the sights that
+nature offers amid the profound peace of the fields, behind the flowering of the
+sudden spring-tide and the splendours of the summer. These murders, these
+assassinations are committed in a mute and silent world, but &quot;the ear of
+the mind&quot; seems to hear</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;A tiger's rage and cries as of a lion<br>
+Roaring remotely through this pigmy world.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Was it to these thrilling revelations that Victor Hugo intended to apply these so
+wonderfully appropriate lines? Was it he who bestowed upon Fabre, according to
+a poetic tradition, the name of &quot;the Homer of the insects,&quot; which
+fits him so marvellously well?</p>
+
+<p>
+It is possible, although Fabre himself can cite no evidence to support these
+suggestions; but let us respect the legend, simply because it is charming, and
+because it adds an exact and picturesque touch to the portrait of Fabre.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+In this drama of a myriad scenes, in which the little actors in their rustic stage
+play each in his turn their parts at the mercy of occasion and the hazard of
+encounter, the humblest creatures are personages of importance.</p>
+
+<p>
+Like the human comedy, this also has its characters privileged by birth, clothed in
+purple, dazzling with embroidery, &quot;adorned with lofty plumes,&quot; who
+strut pretentiously; &quot;its idle rich,&quot; covered with robes of gold of
+rustling splendour, who display their diamonds, their topazes and their
+sapphires; who gleam with fire and shine like mirrors, magnificent of mien; but
+their brains are &quot;dense, heavy, inept, without imagination, without
+ingenuity, deprived of all common sense, knowing no other anxiety than to drink
+in the sunlight at the heart of a rose or to sleep off their draughts in the
+shadow of a leaf.</p>
+
+<p>
+Those who labour, on the contrary, do not attract the eye, and the most obscure are
+often the most interesting. Necessitous poverty has educated and formed them,
+has excited in them &quot;feats of invention,&quot; unsuspected talents,
+original industries; a thousand curious and unexpected callings, and no subject
+of poetry equals in interest the detailed history of one of these tiny
+creatures, by which we pass without observing them, amid the stones, the brambles,
+and the dead leaves. It is these above all that add an original and epic note
+to the vast symphony of the world.</p>
+
+<p>
+But death also has its poetry. Its shadowy domains hold lessons no less
+magnificent, and the most putrid carrion is to Fabre a &quot;tabernacle&quot; in
+which a divine comedy is enacted.</p>
+
+<p>
+The ant, that &quot;ardent filibuster, comes first, and commences to dissect it
+piecemeal.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+The Necrophori &quot;exhaling the odour of musk, and bearing red pompons at the end
+of their antennae,&quot; are &quot;transcendent alchemists.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+The Sarcophagi, or grey flesh flies, &quot;with red bloodshot eyes, and the stony
+gaze of a knacker&quot;; the Saprinidae, &quot;with bodies of polished ebony
+like pearls of jet&quot;; the Silpha aplata, with large and sombre wing-cases
+in mourning; the shiny slow-trotting Horn-beetle; the Dermestes, &quot;powdered
+with snow beneath the stomach&quot;; the slender Staphylinus; the whole fauna
+of the corpse, the whole horde of artisans of death, &quot;intoxicating
+themselves with purulence, probing, excavating, mangling, dissecting,
+transmuting, and stamping out infection.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre gives a curious exposition of &quot;that strange art&quot; by which the grub of
+the grey bot-fly, the vulgar maggot, by means of a subtle pepsine,
+disintegrates and liquefies solid matter; and it is because this singular
+solvent has no effect upon the epidermis that the fly, in its wisdom, chooses
+by preference the mucous membranes, the corner of the eye, the entrance of the
+nostrils, the borders of the lips, the live flesh of wounds, there to deposit
+its eggs.</p>
+
+<p>
+With what penetration this original mind has analysed &quot;the operation
+of the crucible in which all things are fused that they may recommence&quot;
+and has expounded the marvellous lesson which is revealed by decomposition and
+putridity!</p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAP14">CHAPTER 14. PARALLEL LIVES.</a></h2>
+
+<p>
+We have now seen what entomology becomes in the hands of the admirable Fabre. The
+vast poem of creation has never had a more familiar and luminous interpreter,
+and you will nowhere find other work like his.</p>
+
+<p>
+How far he outstrips Buffon and his descriptions of animals--so general, so vague,
+so impersonal--his records unreliable and his entire erudition of a second-hand
+quality!</p>
+
+<p>
+It is with Réaumur that we are first of all tempted to compare him; and some have
+chosen to see in him only one who has continued Réaumur's work. In reality he
+has eagerly read Réaumur, although at heart he does not really enjoy his
+writings; he has drunk from this fruitful source, but he owes him no part of
+his own rich harvest.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+But there are many affinities between them; they have many traits in common,
+despite the points of difference between them.</p>
+
+<p>
+The illustrious son of Rochelle was born, like Fabre, with a love of all natural
+things, and before attacking the myriad problems of physics and natural
+history, wherein he was to shine by so many curious discoveries, he also had
+prepared himself by a profound study of mathematics.</p>
+
+<p>
+Luckier than Fabre, however, Réaumur enjoyed not only the advantages of birth, but all
+the material conditions necessary to his ardent intellectual activity. Fortune overwhelmed
+her favourite with gifts, and played no small part in his glory by enabling
+him, from an early age, to profit by his leisure and to give a free rein to his
+ruling passions. He was no less modest than the sage of Sérignan; self-effacing
+before others, says one of his biographers, so that they were never made to
+feel his superiority. <a href="#C14-1">(14/1.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+In the midst of the beautiful and spacious gardens at the end of the Faubourg
+Saint-Antoine, where he finally made his home, he also contrived to create for himself
+a Harmas after his own heart.</p>
+
+<p>
+It was there that in the as yet virgin domain of entomology he unravelled the
+riddle of the marvellous republic of the bees, and was able to expound and
+interpret a large number of those tiny lives which every one had hitherto
+despised, and which indeed they continued to despise until the days of Fabre,
+or at least regarded as absolutely unimportant. He was the first to venture to
+suspect their connection with much &quot;that most nearly concerns us,&quot; or
+to point out &quot;all the singular conclusions&quot; which may be drawn
+therefrom. <a href="#C14-2">(14/2.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+How many details he has enshrined in his interesting &quot;Memoirs,&quot; and how
+many facts we may glean from this great master! He, like Fabre, had the gift of
+charming a great number of his contemporaries. Tremblay, Bonnet, and de Geer
+owed their vocations to Réaumur, not to speak of Huber, whose genius he
+inspired.</p>
+
+<p>
+A physicist before all, and accustomed to delicate and meticulous though
+comparatively simple tasks, he had admirably foreseen the extraordinary
+complication of these inquiries; so much so that, with the modesty of the true
+scientist that he was, he regarded his own studies, even the most substantial,
+as mere indications, intended to point the way to those that followed him.</p>
+
+<p>
+As methodical, in short, as the author of the &quot;Souvenirs,&quot; the
+scrupulous Réaumur wrote nothing that he himself had not proved or verified
+with the greatest care; and we may be sure that all that he records of his
+personal and immediate observations he has really seen with his own eyes.</p>
+
+<p>
+In the wilderness of error he had, like Fabre, an infallible compass in his
+extraordinary common sense; and, equally skilled in extracting from the false
+the little particle of truth which it often contains, he was no less fond of
+listening at the gate of legends, of tracing the source of traditions; rightly
+considering that before deriding them as old-wives' tales we should first probe
+in all directions into their origin and foundation. <a href="#C14-3">(14/3.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+He was also tempted to experiment, and he well knew that in such problems as those
+he attacked observation alone is often powerless to reveal anything. It is
+enough to recall here one of the most promising and unexpected of the
+discoveries which resulted from his experiments. Réaumur was the first to
+conceive the ingenious idea of retarding the hatching of insects' eggs by
+exposing them to cold, thus anticipating the application of cold to animal life
+and the discoveries of Charles Tellier, whose more illustrious forerunner he
+was; at the same time he discovered the secret of prolonging, in a similar
+fashion, the larval existence of chrysalids during a space of time infinitely
+superior to that of their normal cycle; and what is more, he succeeded in
+making them live a lethargic life for years and even for a long term of years,
+thus repeating at will the miracle of the Seven Sleepers. <a href="#C14-4">(14/4.)</a></p>
+
+
+<p>
+Too much occupied, however, with the smaller aspect of things, he had not the art
+of forcing Nature to speak, and in the province of psychical aptitudes he was
+barely able to rise above the facts.</p>
+
+<p>
+As he was powerless to enter into real communion with the tiny creatures which he
+observed, although his observations were conducted with religious admiration;
+as he saw always only the outside of things, like a physicist rather than a
+poet or psychologist, he contented himself with noting the functioning of their
+organs, their methods of work, their properties, and the changes which they
+undergo; he did not interpret their actions. The mystery of the life which quivers
+within and around them eludes him. This is why his books are such dry reading.
+He is like a bright garden full of rare plants; but it is a monotonous garden,
+without life or art, without distant vistas or wide perspectives. His works are
+somewhat diffuse and full of repetitions; entire monographs, almost whole
+volumes, are devoted to describing the emerging of a butterfly; but they form
+part of the library of the curious lover of nature; they are consulted with
+interest, and will always be referred to, but it cannot be said that they are
+read.</p>
+
+<p>
+After Réaumur, according to the dictum of the great Latreille, entomology was
+confined to a wearisome and interminable nomenclature, and if we except the
+Hubers, two unparalleled observers, although limited and circumscribed, the
+only writer who filled the interregnum between Réaumur and Fabre was Léon
+Dufour.</p>
+
+<p>
+In the quiet little town whither he went to succeed his father, this military
+surgeon, turned country doctor, lived a busy and useful life.</p>
+
+<p>
+While occupied with his humble patients, whom he preferred to regard merely as an
+interesting clinic, and while keeping the daily record of his medical
+observations, he felt irresistibly drawn &quot;to ferret in all the holes and
+corners of the soil, to turn over every stone, large or small; to shrink from
+no fatigue, no difficulty; to scale the highest peaks, the steepest cliffs, to
+brave a thousand dangers, in order to discover an insect or a plant. <a href="#C14-5">(14/5.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+A disciple of Latreille, he shone above all as an impassioned descriptive writer.</p>
+
+<p>
+No one was more skilled in determining a species, in dissecting the head of a fly
+or the entrails of a grub, and no spectacle in the world was for him so
+fascinating as the triple life of the insect; those magical metamorphoses,
+which he justly considered as one of the most astonishing phenomena in
+creation. <a href="#C14-6">(14/6.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+He saw further than Réaumur, and burned with the same fire as Fabre, for he also
+had the makings of a great poet. His curiosity had assembled enormous
+collections, but he considered, as Fabre considered, that collecting is
+&quot;only the barren contemplation of a vast ossuary which speaks only to the
+eyes, and not to the mind or imagination,&quot; and that the true history of
+insects should be that of their habits, their industries, their battles, their
+loves, and their private and social life; that one must &quot;search
+everywhere, on the ground, under the soil, in the waters, in the air, under the
+bark of trees, in the depth of the woods, in the sands of the desert, and even
+on and in the bodies of animals.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Was not this in reality the ambitious programme which Fabre was later to propose to
+himself when he entered into his Harmas and founded his living laboratory of
+entomology; he also having set himself as his exclusive object the study of
+&quot;the insects, the habits of life, the labours, the struggles and the
+propagation of this little world, which agriculture and philosophy should
+closely consider&quot;? <a href="#C14-7">(14/7.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Dufour also had admirably grasped the place of the insect in the general harmony of
+the universe, and he clearly perceived that parasitism, that imbrication of
+mutually usurping lives, is &quot;a law of equilibration, whose object is to
+set a limit to the excessive multiplication of individuals of the same
+type,&quot; that the parasites are predestined to an imprescriptible mission,
+and that this mysterious law &quot;defies all explanation.&quot;</p>
+
+
+<p>
+On the other hand, he did not become very intimate with these tiny peoples; his
+attention was dispersed over too many points; perhaps he was fundamentally
+incapable of concentrating himself for a long period upon a circumscribed
+object; perhaps he lacked that first condition of genius, patience, so
+essential to such researches: although he enriched science by an infinite
+multitude of precious facts and has recorded a quantity of details concerning
+the habits of insects, he did not succeed in representing any one of these
+innumerable little minds. He had an intense feeling for nature, but he was not
+able to interpret it, and his immense volume of work, scattered through nearly
+three hundred monographs, remains ineffective.</p>
+
+<p>
+Let us compare with his work the vast epic of the &quot;Souvenirs.&quot; We become
+familiar with the whole life of the least insect, and all its unending related
+circumstances; we obtain sudden glimpses of insight into our own organization,
+with its abysses and its lacunae, and also into those rich provinces or
+faculties which we are only beginning to suspect in the depths of our
+unconscious activity.</p>
+
+<p>
+In the evening twilight, after the vast andante of the cicadae is hushed, at the
+hour when the shining glow-worms &quot;light their blue fires,&quot; and the
+&quot;pale Italian cricket, delirious with its nocturnal madness, chirrups
+among the rosemary thickets,&quot; while in the distance sounds the melodious
+tinkle of the bell-ringer frogs, replying from one hiding-place to another, the
+old master shows us that profound and mysterious magic with which matter is
+endowed by the faintest glimmer of life.</p>
+
+<p>
+He shows us the intimate connection of things, the universal harmony which so
+intimately allies all creatures; and he shows us also that everywhere and all
+around us, in the smallest object, poetry exists like a hidden flame, if only
+we know how to seek it.</p>
+
+<p>
+And in revealing so many marvellous energies in even the lowest creatures, he helps
+us to divine the infinity of phenomena still unguessed-at, which the subtlety
+of the unknowable force which thrills through the whole universe hides from us
+under the most trivial appearances.</p>
+
+<p>
+For he has not told everything; this incommensurable region, which had hitherto
+remained unworked, is far from being exhausted.</p>
+
+<p>
+How many unknown and hidden things are still left to be gleaned! There will be a
+harvest for all. Remember that &quot;even the humblest species either has no
+history, or the little that has been written concerning it calls for serious
+revision&quot; <a href="#C14-8">(14/8.)</a>; that a single bush, such as the bramble, suffices to
+rear more than fifty species of insects, and that each species, according to
+the just observation of Réaumur, &quot;has its habits, its tricks of cunning,
+its customs, its industries, its art, its architecture, its different
+instincts, and its individual genius.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+What a stupendous alphabet to decipher, of which we have as yet only commenced
+to read the first few letters! When we are able to read it almost entirely,
+when observers are more numerous and have concerted their efforts, mutually
+illuminating, completing and correcting one another, then, and then only, we
+shall succeed, if not in resolving some of those high problems which have never
+ceased to interest mankind, at least in seizing some reflected knowledge of
+ourselves, and in seeing a little farther into the kingdom of the mind.</p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAP15">CHAPTER 15. THE EVENINGS AT SÉRIGNAN.</a></h2>
+
+<p>
+But it will doubtless be long before a new Fabre will resume, with the same heroic
+ardour, the life of solitary labour, varied only by a few austere recreations.</p>
+
+<p>
+Rising at six o'clock, he would first of all pace the tiles of his kitchen, breakfast
+in hand; so imperious in him was the need of action, if his mind was to work successfully,
+that even at this moment of morning meditation his body must already be in
+movement. Then, after many turns among the bushes of the enclosure, all irised
+with drops of dew which were already evaporating, he went straight to his cell:
+that is, to the silence of his laboratory.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+There, in unsociable silence, invisible to all, he worked hard and steadily until
+noon; pursuing an observation or carrying out some experiment, or recording
+what he saw or what he had seen the day before, or re-drafting his records in
+their final form.</p>
+
+<p>
+How many who have come hither to knock upon the door in these morning hours, or to
+ring at the little gate, silent as the tomb, which gives upon the private path
+frequented only by foot-passengers on their way to the fields, have undertaken
+a fruitless journey! But without such discipline would it have been possible to
+accomplish such a task as his?</p>
+
+<p>
+At last he would leave his workroom; jaded, exhausted by the excessive intensity
+of his work, &quot;face pale and features drawn.&quot; <a href="#C15-1">(15/1.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Now he is &quot;at leisure: the half-day is over&quot; <a href="#C15-2">(15/2.)</a>; and he can satisfy
+his immense need not of repose, but of relaxation and distraction in less
+severe occupations; for he is never at any time nor anywhere inactive;
+incessantly making notes, with little stumps of pencil which he carries about
+in his pockets, and on the first scrap of paper that comes to hand, of all that
+passes through his mind. Those eternal afternoons, which usually, in the depth
+of the French provinces, prove so dull and wearisome, seem short enough to him.
+Now he will halt before his plants, now stoop to the ground, the better to
+observe a passing insect; always in search of some fresh subject of study; or
+now bending over his microscope. <a href="#C15-3">(15/3.)</a> Then he undertakes, for his later-born
+children at Sérignan, the duties which he formerly performed for the elder
+family at Orange: he teaches them himself; he has much to do with them, for
+their sake and for his own as well, for he is jealous of possessing them, and
+he regrets parting with them. They too have their tasks arranged in advance.</p>
+
+<p>
+They are his assistants, his appointed collaborators, who keep and relieve guard,
+undertaking, in his absence, some observation already in hand, so that no
+detail may be lost, no incident of the story that unrolls itself sometimes with
+exasperating slowness beneath the bell-covers of the laboratory or on some bush
+in the garden. He inspires the whole household with the fire of his own genius,
+and all those about him are almost as interested as he.</p>
+
+<p>
+At home, in the house, always wearing his eternal felt hat, and absorbed in
+meditation, he speaks little, holding that every word should have its object,
+and only employing a term when he has tested its weight and meaning. Silence at
+mealtimes again is a rule that no one of his household would infringe. But he
+unbends his brow when he receives a friend at his hospitable table, where but
+lately his smiling wife would sit, full of little attentions for him. <a href="#C15-4">(15/4.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Frugal in all respects, he barely touches the dishes before him; avoiding all meats,
+and saving himself wholly for the fruits; for is not man naturally frugivorous,
+by his teeth, his stomach, and his bowels? Certain dishes repel him, for
+reasons of sentiment rather than through any real disgust; such as paté de foie
+gras, which reminds him too forcibly of the so cruelly tortured goose; such
+cruelty is too high a price to pay for a mere greasy mouthful. <a href="#C15-5">(15/5.)</a> On the
+other hand, he drinks wine with pleasure, the harsh, rough &quot;wine of the country&quot;
+of the plains of Sérignan. He is also well able to appreciate good things and
+appetizing cookery; no one ever had a finer palate; but he is happiest in
+seeing others appreciate the pleasures of the table. Witness that breakfast
+worthy of Gargantua, which he himself organized in honour of his guests, whom
+he had invited to an excursion over the Ventoux Alp; where he seems expressly
+to have commanded &quot;that all should come in shoals.&quot; What a tinkling
+of bottles, what piles of bread! There are green olives &quot;flowing with
+brine,&quot; black olives &quot;seasoned with oil,&quot; sausages of Arles
+&quot;with rosy flesh, marbled with cubes of fat and whole peppercorns,&quot;
+legs of mutton stuffed with garlic &quot;to dull the keen edge of hunger&quot;;
+chickens &quot;to amuse the molars&quot;; melons of Cavaillon too, with white
+pulp, not forgetting those with orange pulp, and to crown the feast those
+little cheeses, so delightfully flavoured, peculiar to Mont Ventoux,
+&quot;spiced with mountain herbs,&quot; which melt in the mouth. <a href="#C15-6">(15/6.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+But his greatest pleasure is his pipe; a briar, which in absence of mind he is
+always allowing to go out, and always relighting.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+Respectful of all traditions, he has kept up the observance of old customs; no Christmas
+Eve has ever been passed under the roof of his Harmas without the consecrated
+meats upon the table; the heart of celery, the nougat of almonds, the dish of
+snails, and the savoury-smelling turkey. Then, stuck into the Christmas bread
+<a href="#C15-7">(15/7.)</a>, the sprigs of holly, the verbouisset, the sacred bush whose little
+starry flowers and coral berries, growing amid evergreen leaves, affirm the
+eternal rebirth of indestructible nature.</p>
+
+<p>
+At Sérignan Fabre is little known and little appreciated. To tell the truth, folk
+regard him as eccentric; they have often surprised him in the country lying on
+his stomach in the middle of a field, or kneeling on the ground, a magnifying
+glass in hand, observing a fly or some one of those insignificant creatures in
+which no sane person would deign to be interested.</p>
+
+<p>
+How should they know him, since he never goes into the village? When he did once
+venture thither to visit his friend Charrasse, the schoolmaster, his appearance
+was an event of which every one had something to say, so greatly did it
+astonish the inhabitants. <a href="#C15-8">(15/8.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Yet he never hesitates to place his knowledge at the service of all, and welcomes
+with courtesy the rare pilgrims in whom a genuine regard is visible, although
+he is always careful never to make them feel his own superiority; but he very
+quickly dismisses, sometimes a trifle hastily, those who are merely indiscreet
+or importunate; pedantic and ignorant persons he judges instantaneously with
+his piercing eyes; with such people he cannot emerge from his slightly gloomy
+reserve; he shuts himself up like the snail, which, annoyed by some displeasing
+object, retires into its shell, and remains silent in their presence.</p>
+
+<p>
+Professors come to consult him: asking his advice as to their programmes of instruction,
+or begging him to resolve some difficult problem or decide some especially vexed
+question; and his explanations are so simple, so clear, so logical that they
+are astonished at their own lack of comprehension and their embarrassment.
+<a href="#C15-9">(15/9.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+But there are few who venture within the walls of that enclosure, which seems to
+shut out all the temptations of the outer world; the only intimate visitors to
+the Harmas are the village schoolmaster--first Laurent, then Louis Charrasse
+<a href="#C15-10">(15/10.)</a>, and later Jullian--and a blind man, Marius.</p>
+
+<p>
+This latter lost his sight at the age of twenty. Then, to earn a living, he began to
+make and repair chairs, and in his misfortune, although blind and extremely
+poor, he kept a calm and contented mind.</p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre had discovered the sage and the blind man on his arrival at Sérignan, and also
+Favier <a href="#C15-11">(15/11.)</a>, &quot;that other native, whose jovial spirit was so prompt to
+respond, and who helped to dig up the Harmas; to set up the planks and tiles of
+the little kitchen-garden; a rude task, since this scrap of uncultivated ground
+was then but a terrible desert of pebbles.&quot; To Favier fell the care of the
+flowers, for the new owner was a great lover of flowers. Potted plants,
+sometimes of rare species, were already, as to&#8209;day, crowded in rows upon
+the terrace before the house, where all the summer they formed a sort of
+vestibule in the open air, on either side of the entrance; and these Fabre
+never ceased to watch over with constant and meticulous care. Both spoke the
+same language, and the words they exchanged were born of a like philosophy; for
+Favier also loved nature in his own way, and at heart was an artist; and when,
+after the day's work, sitting &quot;on the high stone of the kitchen hearth,
+where round logs of green oak were blazing,&quot; he would evoke, in his
+picturesque and figurative language, the memories of an old campaigner, he
+charmed all the household and the evening seemed to pass with strange rapidity.</p>
+
+<p>
+When this precious servant and boon companion had disappeared, after two years of
+digging, sowing, weeding, and hoeing, all was ready; the frame was completed
+and the work could be commenced. It was then that Marius became the master's
+appointed collaborator, and it is he who now constructs his apparatus, his
+experimental cages; stuffs his birds, helps to ransack the soil, and shades him
+with an umbrella while he watches under the burning sun. Marius cannot see, but
+so intimate is his communion with his master, so keen his enthusiasm for all
+that Fabre does, that he follows in his mind's eye, and as though he could
+actually see them, all the doings at which he assists, and whose inward
+reflection lights up his wondering countenance.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+Marius was not only rich in feeling and the gift of inner vision; he had also a
+marvellously correct ear. He was a member of the &quot;Fanfare&quot; of
+Sérignan, in which he played the big drum, and there was no one like him for
+keeping perfect time and for bringing out the clash of the cymbals.</p>
+
+<p>
+Charrasse was no less fervent a disciple; he worshipped science and all beautiful things;
+and he could even conceive a noble passion for his exhausting trade of school-teaching.</p>
+
+<p>
+Like Marius, he ate &quot;a bitter bread&quot;; and Fabre would get on with them all
+the better in that they, like himself, had lived a difficult life. &quot;Man is
+like the medlar,&quot; he liked to tell them; &quot;he is worth nothing until
+he has ripened a long time in the attic, on the straw.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;L'homme est comme la nèfle, il n'est rien qui vaille</p>
+
+<p>S'il n'a mûri longtemps, au grenier, sur la paille.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+These humble companions afforded him the simple conversation which he likes so well;
+so natural, and so full of sympathy and common sense. They customarily spent
+Thursday and Sunday afternoons at the Harmas; but these beloved disciples might
+call at any hour; the master always welcomed them, even in the morning, even
+when he was entirely absorbed in his work and could not bear any one about him.
+They were his circle, his academy; he would read them the last chapter written
+in the morning; he shared his latest discoveries with them; he did not fear to
+ask advice of their &quot;fertile ignorance.&quot; <a href="#C15-12">(15/12.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Charrasse was a &quot;Félibre,&quot; versed in all the secrets of the Provençal idiom, of
+which he knew all the popular terms, the typical expressions and turns of
+speech; and Fabre loved to consult him, to read some charming verses which he
+had just discovered, or to recite some delightful rustic poem with which he had
+just been inspired; for in such occupations he found one of his favourite
+relaxations, giving free vent to his fancy, a loose rein to the poet that
+dwells within him. These poems the piety of his brother has preserved in the
+collection entitled &quot;Oubreto.&quot; It is at such a moment that one should
+see his black eyes, full of fire; his power of mimicry and expression, his
+impassioned features, lit up by inspiration, truly idealized, almost
+transfigured, are at such times a thing to be remembered.</p>
+
+<p>
+Sometimes, again, in the shadow of the planes, on summer afternoons, when the cigales were
+falling silent; or in the winter, before the blazing fireplace, in that
+dining-room on the ground floor in which he welcomed his visitors; when out of
+doors the mistral was roaring and raging, or the rain clattering on the panes,
+the little circle was enlarged by certain new-comers, his nephews, nieces, a
+few intimates, of whom, a little later, I myself was often one. At such times
+his humour and imagination were given full play, and it was truly a rare
+pleasure to sit there, sipping a glass of mulled wine, during those delightful
+and earnest hours; to taste the charm of his smiling philosophy, his
+picturesque conversation, full of exact ideas, all the more profound in that
+they were founded on experience and pointed or adorned by proverbs, adages, and
+anecdotes. Thanks to the daily reading of the &quot;Temps,&quot; which one of
+his friends regularly sends him, Fabre is in touch with all the ideas of the
+day, and expresses his judgment of them; for example, he does not conceal his
+scepticism with regard to certain modern inventions, such as the aeroplane,
+whose novelty rather disturbs his mind, and whose practical bearing seems to
+him to be on the whole somewhat limited.</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus even the most recent incidents find their way into the solitude of the Harmas
+and help to sustain the conversation.</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;The first time we resume our Sérignan evenings,&quot; he wrote to his nephew on the
+morrow of one of these intimate gatherings, &quot;we will have a little chat
+about your Justinian, whom the recent drama of &quot;Théodora&quot; has just
+made the fashion. Do you know the history of that terrible hussy and her stupid
+husband? Perhaps not entirely; it is a treat I am keeping for you.&quot; <a href="#C15-13">(15/13.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+The only subject which is hardly ever mentioned during these evenings at Sérignan
+is politics, although Fabre, strange as it may seem, was one year appointed to
+sit on the municipal council.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+The son of peasants, who has emerged from the people yet has always remained a
+peasant, has too keen a sense of injustice not to be a democrat; and how many
+young men has he not taught to emancipate themselves by knowledge? But above
+all he is proud of being a Frenchman; his mind, so lucid, so logical, which has
+never gone abroad in search of its own inspirations, and has never been
+influenced by any but those old French masters, François Dufour and Réaumur,
+and the old French classics, has always felt an instinctive repugnance, which
+it has never been able to overcome, for all those ideas which some are
+surreptitiously seeking to put forward in our midst in favour of some foreign
+trade-mark.</p>
+
+<p>
+Although his visit to the court of Napoleon III left him with a rather sympathetic idea
+of the Emperor, whose gentle, dreamy appearance he still likes to recall, he
+detested the Empire and the &quot;brigand's trick&quot; which established it.</p>
+
+<p>
+On the day of the proclamation of the Republic he was seen in the streets of
+Avignon in company with some of his pupils. He was agreeably surprised at the
+turn events had taken, and delighted by the unforeseen result of the war.</p>
+
+<p>
+A spirit as proud and independent as his was naturally the enemy of any species
+of servitude. State socialism of the equalitarian and communistic kind was to
+him no less horrifying. Was not Nature at hand, always to remind him of her
+eternal lessons?</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;Equality, a magnificent political label, but scarcely more! Where is it, this equality?
+In our societies shall we find even two persons exactly equal in vigour,
+health, intelligence, capacity for work, foresight, and so many other gifts
+which are the great factors of prosperity?...A single note does not make a
+harmony: we must have dissimilar notes; discords even, which, by their
+harshness, give value to the concords; human societies are harmonious only
+thus, by the concourse of dissimilarities.&quot; <a href="#C15-14">(15/14.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+And what a puerile Utopia, what a disappointing illusion is that of communism! Let
+us see under what conditions, at the price of what sacrifices, nature here and
+there realizes it.</p>
+
+<p>
+Among the bees &quot;twenty thousand renounce maternity and devote themselves to
+celibacy to raise the prodigious family of a single mother.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Among the ants, the wasps, the termites &quot;thousands and thousands remain
+incomplete and become humble auxiliaries of a few who are sexually
+gifted.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Would you by chance reduce man to the life of the Processional caterpillars, content
+to nibble the pine-needles among which they live, and which, satisfied to march
+continually along the same tracks, find within reach an abundant, easy, and
+idle subsistence? All have the same size, the same strength, the same
+aptitudes. No initiative. &quot;What one does the others do, with equal zeal,
+neither better nor worse.&quot; On the other hand, there is &quot;no sex, no
+love.&quot; And what would be a society in which there was no work done for
+pleasure and from which love and the family were banished? What would be the
+effect upon its progress, its welfare, its happiness? Would not all that make
+the charm of life disappear for good? However imperfect our present society may
+be, however mysterious its destinies, it is not in socialism that Fabre
+foresees the perfection of future humanity, for to him the true humanity does
+not as yet exist; it is making its way, it is slowly progressing, and in this evolution
+he wishes with all his heart to believe. Modern humanity is as yet only a
+shapeless grimacing caricature, and its life is like a play written by madmen
+and played by drunken actors; according to those profound words of the great
+poet, with which his mind is in some sort imbued; which he often repeats, and
+which he has transcribed at the head of one of his last records as an epigraph
+and a constant reminder.</p>
+
+<p>
+And you who groan over the distressing problem of depopulation, lend an ear to the
+lesson of the Copris, &quot;which trebles its customary batch of offspring in
+times of abundance, and in times of dearth imitates the artisan of the city who
+has only just enough to live on, or the bourgeois, whose numerous wants are
+more and more costly to satisfy, limiting the number of its offspring lest they
+should go in want, often reducing the number of its children to a single
+one.&quot; <a href="#C15-15">(15/15.)</a></p>
+
+
+<p>
+Instead of running after so many false appearances and false pleasures, learn to return
+to simpler tastes, to more rustic manners; free yourselves from a mass of
+factitious needs; steep yourself anew in the antique sobriety, whose desires
+were sager; return to the fields, the source of abundance, and the earth, the
+eternal foster-mother!</p>
+
+<p>
+And in this appeal to return to nature, which perhaps since the time of Rousseau
+has never been worded so eloquently, Fabre has in view if not the strong, the
+predestined, who are called elsewhere, and who are actuated by the sense of
+great tasks to be performed, at least all those of rural origin, all those for
+whom the love of the family, the daily task, and a peaceful heart are really
+the great things of life, the things that count, the things that suffice.</p>
+
+<p>
+He himself, although he was one of the strong, did not care to break any of the ties
+that bound him to his origins. Like the Osmia, &quot;which retains a tenacious
+memory of its home,&quot; the beloved village of his childhood has never been
+effaced from his memory, and for a long time the desire to leave his bones
+there haunted him. His mind often returned to it; he thought that there, better
+than anywhere else, he would find peace; that it would please him to wander
+among the rocks, the trees, the stones which he had so loved, in the old days,
+and that all these things would recognize him too.</p>
+
+<p>
+One day, however, when I was begging him to make up his mind on this point--it was
+one of those peaceful evenings which are troubled under the plane-trees only by
+the tinkling of the fountain--he confided to me that his beloved Sérignan had
+at last, in his secret preferences, obliterated the old longing. As he advanced
+in life, in fact, although he never forgot his rude natal countryside, he felt
+that new links were daily binding him more closely to those heaths and
+mountains on which his heart had been so often thrilled with the intense joy of
+discovery, and that it was indeed in this soil, to him so full of delight, amid
+its beautiful hymenoptera and scarabaei, that he would wish to be buried.</p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre is by no means the misanthrope that some have chosen to think him. He delights
+in the society of women, and knows how to welcome them gracefully; and more
+than any one he is sensitive to the pleasant and stimulating impressions
+produced by the conversation of cultivated people.</p>
+
+<p>
+He is no less fond of the arts, provided he finds in them a sincere interpretation
+of life. This is why the theatre, with its false values, its tinsel and
+affectation, has to him seemed a gross deformation of the reality, ever since
+the day when at Ajaccio he attended a performance of &quot;Norma,&quot; in
+which the moon was represented by a round transparent disc, lit from behind by
+a lantern hanging at the end of a string, whose oscillation revealed by turns
+first the luminary and then the transparency. This was enough to disgust him
+for ever with the theatre and the opera, whose motionless choruses, contrasting
+with the sometimes frantic movement of the music, left him with a memory of an
+insane and illogical performance.</p>
+
+<p>
+Nevertheless, he adored music, of which he knew something, having learned it, as he learned
+his drawing, without a master; but he preferred the naive songs of the country,
+or the melody of a flute; to the most scholarly concert-music. <a href="#C15-16">(15/16.)</a> In the
+intimacy of the modest chamber which serves as the family salon, with its few shabby
+and old-fashioned pieces of furniture, he plays on an indifferent harmonium
+little airs of his own composition, the subjects of which were at first
+suggested by his own poetry. Like Rollinat, Fabre rightly considers that music
+should complete, accentuate, and release that which poetry has perforce left
+incomplete or indefinite. This is why he makes the bise laugh and sing and
+roar; why he imitates the organ-tones of the wind in the pines, and seeks to
+reproduce some of the innumerable rhythms of nature; the frenzy of the lizard,
+the wriggling of the stickle-back, the jumping gait of the frog, the shrill hum
+of the mosquito, the complaint of the cricket, the moving of the Scarabaei, and
+the flight of the Libellulae.</p>
+
+<p>
+Too busy by day to find time for much reading, it was at night that he would shut
+himself up. Retiring early to his little chamber, with bare walls and bare tile
+floor, and a window opening to the garden, he would lie on his low bed, with
+curtains of green serge, and would often read far into the night.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+This philosopher, to whose books the philosophers of the future will resort for new
+theories and original ideas, refuses to have any commerce with other
+philosophers, disdaining their systems and preferring to go straight to the
+facts. Even when he took up Darwin's &quot;Origin of Species&quot; he did
+little more than open the book; so wearisome and uninteresting, he told me, did
+he find the reading of it. On the other hand, he is full of the ancient
+philosophers, and as he did not read them very extensively in his youth and
+middle age, he has returned to them finally with love and predilection for
+&quot;these good old books.&quot; Unlike many thinkers of the day, he is
+persuaded that we cannot with impunity dispense with classic studies; and he
+rightly considers that science and the humanities are not rivals, but allies.
+Above all he has a particular affection for Virgil; one may say that he is
+steeped in his poetry; and he knows La Fontaine by heart. The style of the
+latter is curiously like his own, and Fabre owns himself as his disciple;
+certainly La Fontaine's is the most active influence which his work reveals. He
+has a profound acquaintance with Rabelais, who was always his
+&quot;friend&quot; and who constantly crops up in his conversation and his
+chance remarks.</p>
+
+<p>
+After these his intellectual foster-parents have been Courrier, Toussenel, of whom he
+is passionately fond, and Rousseau, of whom he cares for little but his
+&quot;Lettres sur la botanique,&quot; full of such fresh impressions, in which
+we feel not the literary man but the &quot;craftsman&quot;; he also cherishes
+Michelet; so full of intuition, although he never handled actual things and
+knew nothing of the practice of the sciences; not learned, but overflowing with
+love; his magic pen, his powers of evocation, and his deft brushwork delight
+Fabre, despite the poverty and insufficiency of his fundamental facts <a href="#C15-17">(15/17.)</a>;
+sometimes Michelet had been his inspiration. The two do really resemble one
+another; Michelet was no less fitted than Fabre to play the confidant to
+Nature, and his heart was of the same mettle.</p>
+
+<p>
+Since I have spoken of his favourites, let me also speak of his dislikes;
+Racine, whom he cannot bear; Molière, whom he does not really like; Buffon,
+whom he frankly detests for his too fluent prose, his ostentatious style, and
+his vain rhetoric. The only naturalist whom he might really have delighted in,
+had he possessed his works and been able to read them at leisure, is Audubon,
+the enthusiastic painter of the birds of America. In him he felt the presence
+of a mind and a temper almost identical with his own.</p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAP16">CHAPTER 16. TWILIGHT.</a></h2>
+
+<p>
+How he has laboured in this solitude! For he considers that he is still far from
+having completed his task. He feels more and more that he has scarcely done
+more than sketch the history of this singular and almost unknown world.
+&quot;The more I go forward,&quot; he wrote to his brother in 1903, &quot;the
+more clearly I see that I have struck my pick into an inexhaustible vein, well
+worthy of being exploited.&quot; <a href="#C16-1">(16/1.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+What studies he has undertaken, what observations he has carried out, &quot;almost
+at the same time, the same moment!&quot; His laboratory is crowded with these
+subjects of experiments. &quot;As though I had a long future before
+me&quot;--he was then just eighty years old--&quot;I continue indefatigably my
+researches into the lives of these little creatures.&quot; <a href="#C16-2">(16/2.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Work in solitude seems to him, more and more, the only life possible, and he cannot
+even imagine any other.</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;The outer world scarcely tempts me at all; surrounded by my little family, it is
+enough for me to go into the woods from time to time, to listen to the fluting
+of the blackbirds. The very idea of the town disgusts me. Henceforth it would
+be impossible for me to live in the little cage of a citizen. Here I am, run
+wild, and I shall be so till the end.&quot; <a href="#C16-3">(16/3.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+For him work has become more than ever an organic function, the true corollary of
+life. &quot;Away with repose! For him who would spend his life properly there
+is nothing like work--so long as the machine will operate.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Is this not the great law for all creatures so long as life lasts?</p>
+
+<p>
+Why should the man who has made a fortune, who has neither children nor relations,
+and who may die tomorrow, continue to work for himself alone, to employ his
+days and his energies in useless labours which will profit neither himself nor
+his kind?</p>
+
+<p>
+Ask of the Halictus, which, no longer capable of becoming a mother, makes herself
+guardian of a city, in order still to labour within the measure of her means.</p>
+
+<p>
+Ask of the Osmia, the Megachile, the Anthidium, which &quot;with no maternal aim,
+for the sole joy of labour, strive to expend their forces in the accomplishment
+of their vain tasks, until the forces of life fail.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Ask of the bee, which inaction leaves passive and melancholy so that she presently
+dies of weariness; of the Chalicodoma, so eager a worker that she will
+&quot;let herself be crushed under the feet of the passer-by rather than
+abandon her task.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Ask it of all nature, which knows neither halt nor repose, and who, according to
+the profound saying of Goethe &quot;has pronounced her malediction upon all
+that retards or suspends her progress.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Let us then labour, men and beasts, &quot;so that we may sleep in peace; grubs and
+caterpillars in that torpor which prepares them for the transformation into
+moths and butterflies, and ourselves in the supreme slumber which dissolves
+life in order to renew it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Let us work, in order to nourish within ourselves that divine intuition thanks to
+which we leave our original impress upon nature; let us work, in order to bring
+our humble contribution to the general harmony of things, by our painful and
+meritorious labour; in order that we may associate ourselves with God, share in
+His creation, and embellish and adorn the earth and fill it with wonders.
+<a href="#C16-4">(16/4.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Forward then! always erect, even amid the tombs, to forget our griefs. Fabre finds no
+better consolation to offer his brother, who has lost almost in succession his
+wife and his eldest daughter: </p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;Do not take it ill if I have not condoled with you on the subject of your recent
+losses. Tried so often by the bitterness of domestic grief, I know too well the
+inanity of such consolations to offer the like to my friends. Time alone does a
+little cicatrize such wounds; and, let us add, work. Let us keep on our feet
+and at work as long as we are able. I know no better tonic.&quot; <a href="#C16-5">(16/5.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+And this exhortation to work, which recurs so often in the first letters of his
+youth, was to be the last word of the last volume which so splendidly
+terminates the incomparable series of his &quot;Souvenirs&quot;:
+&quot;Laboremus.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>...</p>
+
+<p>
+Age has killed neither his courage nor his energies, and he continues to work with
+the same zeal at nearly ninety years of age, and with as much eagerness as
+though he were destined to live for ever.</p>
+
+<p>
+Although his physical forces are failing him, although his limbs falter, his brain
+remains intact, and is giving us its last fruit in his studies on the Cabbage
+caterpillar and the Glow-worm, which mark a sudden rejuvenescence of thought on
+his part, and the commencement of a new cycle of studies, which promise to be
+of the greatest originality.</p>
+
+<p>
+To him the animal world has always been full of dizzy surprises, and the insects
+led him &quot;into a new and barely suspected region, which is <b><i>almost
+absurd</i></b>.&quot; <a href="#C16-6">(16/6.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+The glow-worms, motionless on their twigs of thyme, light their lamps of an
+evening, in the cool of the beautiful summer nights. What do these fires
+signify? How explain the mystery of this phosphorescence? Why this slow
+combustion, &quot;this species of respiration, more active than in the ordinary
+state&quot;? and what is the oxidizable substance &quot;which gives this white
+and gentle luminosity&quot;? Is it a flame of love like that which lights the
+Agaric of the olive-tree &quot;to celebrate its nuptials and the emission of
+its spores&quot;? But what reason can the larva have for illuminating itself?
+Why is the egg, already enclosed in the secrecy of the ovaries, already
+luminous?</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;The soft light of the Agaric has confounded our ideas of optics; it does not
+refract, it does not form an image when passed through a lens, it does not
+affect ordinary photographic plates.&quot; <a href="#C16-7">(16/7.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+But here are other miracles: </p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;Another fungus, the Clathrix, with no trace of phosphorescence, affects photographic
+plates almost as quickly as would a ray of sunlight. The Clathrix tenebrosa
+does what the Agaricus olearius has no power to do.&quot; <a href="#C16-8">(16/8.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+And if the beacon of the Glow-worm recalls the light of the Agaric, the Clathrix
+reminds us of another insect, the Greater Peacock moth.</p>
+
+<p>
+In the obscurity of a dark chamber this splendid moth emits phantasmal radiations,
+perhaps intermittent and reserved for the season of nuptials, signals invisible
+to us, and perceptible only to those children of the night, who may have found
+this means to communicate one with another, to call one another in the
+darkness, and to speak with one another. <a href="#C16-9">(16/9.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Such are the interesting subjects which only yesterday were occupying this great
+worker; the occult properties, the radiant energies of organic matter; of
+phosphorescence, of light, the living symbols of the great universal Eros.</p>
+
+<p>
+But embarrassment long ago succeeded the ephemeral prosperity which marked the
+first years of his installation at Sérignan, and that period of plenty was
+followed by a period of difficulty, almost of indigence. His class-books, which
+had succeeded marvellously, and from which the royalties had quickly attained
+to nearly 640 pounds sterling, which was the average figure for nearly ten
+years, were then no longer in vogue. Already the times had changed. France was
+in the crisis of the anti-clerical fever. Fabre made frequent allusions in his
+books of a spiritual nature, and many primary inspectors could not forgive what
+they regarded as a blemish.</p>
+
+<p>
+We must also mention the keen competition caused by the appearance of similar
+books, usually counterfeit, and the more harmful for that; and as their
+adoption depended entirely on the caprice of commissions or the choice of
+interested persons, those of Fabre were gradually ceasing to sell.</p>
+
+<p>
+It was from 1894 especially that their popularity declined so rapidly: </p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;Despite all my efforts here I am more anxious than ever about the future,&quot; he
+wrote to his publisher on the 27th of January, 1899; &quot;two more of my books
+are about to disappear, a prelude to total shipwreck...I begin to
+despair.&quot; <a href="#C16-10">(16/10.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+He was not the man to have saved much money; numerous charges were always imposing
+themselves on him, and his first wife, careless of expenditure, had been
+somewhat extravagant.</p>
+
+<p>
+While his position as teacher deteriorated his &quot;Souvenirs&quot; brought him
+little more than a nominal profit; for to most people he was still completely
+unknown among the potentates who monopolize the attention of the crowd.</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;Work such as a Réaumur might be proud of will leave me a beggar, that goes without
+saying, but at least I shall have left my grain of sand. I would long ago have
+given up in despair, had I not, to give me courage, the continual research
+after truth in the little world whose historian I have become. I am hoarding
+ideas, and I make shift to live as I can.&quot; <a href="#C16-11">(16/11.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Yet his reputation had long ago crossed the frontiers of his country. He had been a
+corresponding member of the Institute of France since 1887, and a Petit d'Ormoy
+prizeman. <a href="#C16-12">(16/12.)</a> He was a member of the most celebrated foreign academies,
+and the entomological societies of the chief capitals of Europe; but his fame
+had not passed the walls of these academies and the narrow boundaries of the
+little world of professional biologists and philosophers.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+Even in these circles, where he was almost exclusively read and appreciated, he was
+little known, and although he was much admired, although he was readily given
+credit for his admirable talent and exceptional knowledge, his readers were far
+from realizing the real powers of this world of life which he has called into
+being. His books are of those whose fertilizing virtues remain long hidden, to
+shine only at a distance, when much frothy writing, that has made a sudden
+noise in its time, has fallen into oblivion.</p>
+
+<p>
+Every two or three years, after much fond polishing, he would open the door to yet
+another volume which was ready to go forth; adding astonishing chapters of the
+history of insects, wonderful fragments of animal psychology, but always
+obtaining only the same circumscribed success; that is, exciting no public curiosity,
+and remaining unperceived in the midst of general indifference.</p>
+
+<p>
+His books interested only a select class, who, it is true, welcomed them eagerly,
+and read them with wonder and delight. If they excited the curiosity of a few
+philosophers, of scientists and inquirers, and here and there determined a
+vocation, still more, perhaps, did they charm writers and poets; they consoled
+Rostand at the end of a serious illness, their virtue, in some sort healing,
+procuring him both moral repose and a delightful relaxation. <a href="#C16-13">(16/13.)</a> For all
+these, we may say, he has been one of those ten or twelve authors whom one
+would wish to take with one into a long exile, were they reduced to choosing no
+more before leaving civilization for ever.</p>
+
+<p>
+Yet we must admit that this work has certain undeniable faults. The title, in the
+first place, has nothing alluring about it, and is calculated to deter rather
+than to attract purchasers, by evoking vague ideas of repulsive studies, too
+arduous or too special.</p>
+
+<p>
+People have no idea of the wonderful fairyland concealed by this unpopular title; no
+conception that these records are intended, not merely for the scientist pure
+and simple, but in reality for every one.</p>
+
+<p>
+Moreover, the first few volumes were in no way seductive. They boasted not the most
+elementary drawings to help the reader; not the slightest woodcut to give a
+direct idea of the insects described; of their shape, aspect, or physiognomy;
+and a simple sketch, however poor, is often worth more than long and laborious
+descriptions. The first volumes especially, printed economically, at the least
+possible expense, were not outwardly attractive.</p>
+
+<p>
+It is also true that he had never founded any great hopes on the sale of such
+works.</p>
+
+<p>
+Very few people are really interested in the lower animals, and Fabre has been
+reproached with wasting his time over &quot;childish histories, unworthy of
+serious attention and unlikely to make money,&quot; of wasting in frivolous
+occupations the time which is passing so quickly and can never return. And why
+should he have still further wasted so many precious hours in executing minute
+drawings whose reproduction would have involved an expenditure which his
+publisher would not dare to venture upon, and which he himself could not
+afford?</p>
+
+<p>
+For this universal inquirer was well fitted for such a task, and all these
+creatures which he had depicted he is capable of representing with brush and
+pencil as faithfully as with his pen. He had it in him to be not only a writer,
+but an excellent draughtsman, and even a great painter. He has reproduced in
+water-colour, with loving care, the decorations of the specimens of prehistoric
+pottery which his excavations have revealed, and which he has endeavoured to
+reconstruct, with all the science of an archaeologist. He has displayed the
+same skill in water-colour in that astonishing iconography, in which he has
+detailed, with marvellous accuracy, all the peculiarities of the mycological
+flora of the olive-growing districts. <a href="#C16-14">(16/14.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+As for those &quot;paltry figures&quot; insufficient or flagrantly incorrect in
+drawing, with which many people are satisfied, he regards them as
+&quot;intolerable&quot; in his own books, and as absolutely contradicting the
+rigorous accuracy of his text. <a href="#C16-15">(16/15.)</a></p>
+
+
+<p>
+Of late years photography and the skill of his son Paul have supplied this
+deficiency. He taught his son to fix the insects on the sensitive plate in
+their true attitudes, in the reality of their most instantaneous gestures.
+However valuable such documents may be, how much we should prefer fine
+drawings, giving relief not only to forms and colours, but also to the most
+characteristic features and the whole living physiognomy of the creature! This
+is the function of art; but the great artist that was in Fabre was capable in
+this domain of rivalling the magical talent of an Audubon.</p>
+
+<p>
+Such work was relinquished, although so many romances of nature, so much dishonest
+patch-work, won the applause due to success.</p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre fell more and more into a state bordering on indigence, and finally he was
+quite forgotten. An opponent of evolution, he was out of the fashion. The
+encyclopaedias barely mentioned him. Lamarckians and Darwinians, who still made
+so much noise in the world, ignored him; and no one came now to open the gate
+behind which was ageing, in obscurity and deserted, &quot;one of the loftiest
+and purest geniuses which the civilized world at that moment possessed; one of
+the most learned naturalists and one of the most marvellous of poets in the
+modern and truly legitimate sense of the word.&quot; <a href="#C16-16">(16/16.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+In the department of Vaucluse, where he lived for more than sixty years, in
+Avignon itself, where he had taught for twenty years, the prefect Belleudy, who
+had succeeded in approaching him, was astonished and distressed to find
+&quot;so great a mind so little known&quot;; for even those about him scarcely
+knew his name. <a href="#C16-17">(16/17.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+But what matter! The hermit of Sérignan was not discouraged; he was disturbed only
+by the failure of his strength, and the fear that he could not much longer
+exercise that divine faculty which had always consoled him for all his sorrows
+and his disappointments. He could scarcely drag his weary limbs across the
+pebbles of his Harmas; but he bore his eighty-seven years with a fine disdain
+for age and its failings, and although the fire of his glance and that whole, eager
+countenance still expressed his passion for the truth, his abrupt gestures,
+touched with irony, his simple bearing, and the extreme modesty of his whole
+person, spoke sufficiently of his profound indifference toward outside
+contingencies, for the baubles of fame and all the stupidities of life.</p>
+
+<p>
+At a few miles' distance, in another village, that other great peasant, Mistral,
+the singer of Provence, the poet of love and joy, the minstrel of rustic labour
+and antique faiths, was pursuing, amid the homage of his apotheosis, the
+incredible cycle of his splendid existence.</p>
+
+<p>
+This glory had come to him suddenly; this fame &quot;whose first glances are sweeter
+than the fires of dawn,&quot; and which was never to desert him for fifty long
+years.</p>
+
+<p>
+The wind of favour which had sweetened his youth continued to propel him in full
+sail. He had only to show himself to be at once surrounded, felicitated,
+worshipped; and his mere presence would sway a crowd as the black peaks of the
+high cypresses are swayed by the great wind that bears his name. Like Fabre, he
+had remained faithful to his native soil; that soil which the great naturalist
+had never been able to leave without at once longing impatiently to return to
+its dusty olives where the cigale sings, its ilex trees and its thickets; and
+so he lived far from the cities, in a quiet village, with the same horizon of
+plains and hills that were balmy with thyme, leading in his little home an
+equal life full of wisdom and simplicity.</p>
+
+<p>
+The hermit of Sérignan was the Lucretius of this Provence, which had already found
+its Virgil. With a very different vision, each had the same rustic tastes, the
+same love of the free spaces of wild nature and the scenes of rural life. But
+Mistral, wherever he looked, saw human life as happy and simple, through the
+prism of his creative imagination and the optimism of his happy life. Fabre, on
+the contrary, behind the sombre realities which he studied, saw only the
+ferocious engagement of confused living forces, and a frightful tragedy.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+Thus their two lives, which were like parallel lines, never meeting, were in keeping
+with their work. And while Mistral, still young and triumphant despite the
+years, was at Maillane overwhelmed with honours and consideration, the poor
+great man of Sérignan lived an obscure and inglorious existence.</p>
+
+<p>
+He had the greatest trouble to live and rear his family, and almost his sole
+income consisted of an uncertain sum of 120 pounds sterling annually, which he
+had for some years received, in the guise of a pension, by the generosity of
+the Institute, as the Gegner prize.</p>
+
+<p>
+Finally his situation was so precarious that he decided to sell to a museum that
+magnificent collection of water-colour plates in which he had represented,
+life-size and with an astonishing truth of colour, all the fungi which grow in
+Provence.</p>
+
+<p>
+He wrote to Mistral on the subject, after the visit which the latter paid him in
+the spring of 1908: the only visit of the kind. Before meeting in
+Saint-Estelle, the Paradise of the Félibres, they had wished not to die before
+at least meeting on this earth.</p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre wrote to mistral the following letter, which I owe to the kindness of the great
+poet:--</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;I have never thought of profiting by my humble fungoid water-colours...Fate will
+perhaps decide otherwise.</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;In this connection, permit me to make a confession, to which your nobility of
+character encourages me. Until latterly I had lived modestly on the product of
+my school-books. To&#8209;day the weathercock has turned to another quarter,
+and my books no longer sell. So here I am, more than ever in the grip of that
+terrible problem of daily bread. If you think, then, that with your help and
+that of your friends, my poor pictures might help me a little, I have decided
+to let them go, but not without bitterness. It is like tearing off a piece of
+my skin, and I still hold to this old skin, shabby as it may be; a little for
+my own sake, much more for my family's, and much more again for the sake of my
+entomological studies, studies which I feel obliged to pursue, persuaded that
+for a long time to come no one will care to resume them, so ungrateful is the
+calling.&quot; <a href="#C16-18">(16/18.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+At the instigation of the poet the prefect Belleudy took it upon him to intercede
+with the Minister, from whom he finally wrung a grant of 40 pounds sterling,
+&quot;in encouragement of the sciences.&quot; Finally he ventured to reveal the
+situation to the General Council of Vaucluse, and to require it to contribute
+at least its share, in order to ensure a peaceful and decent old age to a man
+who was not only the greatest celebrity of the department, but also one of the
+highest glories of the nation. He pleaded so well and so nobly that the
+assembly granted Fabre an annual sum of 20 pounds sterling, &quot;as the public
+homage which his compatriots pay to his lofty science and <b><i>his excessive
+modesty</i></b>.&quot; <a href="#C16-19">(16/19.)</a> At the same time, in a generous
+impulse, the Council placed at his disposal all the scientific equipment of the
+departmental laboratory of agricultural analysis, which was no longer used;
+there was indeed talk of suppressing it.</p>
+
+<p>
+Now that the burden of his days weighed so heavily on him, and his task was
+virtually finished, everything, by the customary irony of things, was coming
+his way simultaneously: not only what was necessary and indispensable, but even
+something that was superfluous.</p>
+
+<p>
+So one day all these delicate instruments, useless to a biologist who by the very
+nature of his labours had done without them all his life, and had never wearied
+of denying their utility, arrived at Sérignan. He did not possess even one
+modest thermometer; and as for the superb microscope over which he so often
+bent, the only costly instrument in his rustic laboratory, it was a precious
+present which, at the instigation of Duruy, Dumas the chemist had given him
+years before; but a simple lens very often sufficed him. &quot;The secrets of
+life,&quot; he somewhere writes, &quot;are to be obtained by simple, makeshift,
+inexpensive means. What did the best results of my inquiry into instinct cost
+me? Only time, and above all, patience.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+It was then that a few of his disciples, finally affected by such abandonment,
+decided to celebrate his jubilee, hoping thus to reveal both his name and his
+wonderful books to the crowd that knew nothing of him. <a href="#C16-20">(16/20.)</a></p>
+
+
+<p>
+It was time; a little longer, and, according to his racy phrase, &quot;the violins
+would have come too late.&quot; The old master is daily nearer his decline; his
+sight, once so piercing, is now so obscured that he can barely see to sign his
+name, in a small, tremulous hand, confused and illegible. His muscles are so
+feeble now that he can walk only in short steps, on his wife's arm, leaning on
+a cane; and he would soon be piteously exhausted were not some seat available
+within immediate reach. Very soon now he will no longer hope to make the tour
+of this Harmas, which his feet have trodden daily for thirty years. In this
+failure of the body, all that survives are the two sparkling cavities of his
+eyes and his extraordinary memory.</p>
+
+<p>
+But he is far from being mournful: he feels only an immense lassitude, and an
+infinite regret that perhaps he will not be able to bring his series of
+&quot;Souvenirs&quot; to the point he had desired; not wishing to die until he
+has pushed his career as far as is in his power; without having worked, on his
+feet, until the very hour when the light of this world is suddenly withdrawn,
+and his eyes open upon the infinite life, beyond the infinite worlds of space.</p>
+
+<p>
+The festival took place on the 3rd of April of the year 1910, and was touching in
+its simplicity.</p>
+
+<p>
+What an unforgettable day in the life of Fabre! That morning the gate of the Harmas
+was left open to all, and many of the people of Sérignan who invaded the garden
+were able to look for the first time on the face of their fellow-citizen, who
+had so long lived among them, and whom they had now, to their astonishment,
+discovered.</p>
+
+<p>
+But among the crowd of friends and admirers who, coming from all parts, pressed
+around the little pink house, the most amazed of all was Marius, the blind
+cabinet-maker, unable to contain his intense delight at the sudden burning of
+so much incense before his idol, for to him it had seemed that this day of
+apotheosis would never dawn!</p>
+
+<p>
+For nothing was certain, although the day of the jubilee had long been fixed. In
+the first place there had been serious defections in the ranks of the official
+personages who were to take part in the ceremony. Then the weather was terrible
+for the time of year; the spring had commenced gloomily, a season of floods and
+catastrophes. But on this morning the rain of days had ceased to fall, and
+suddenly the sun appeared.</p>
+
+<p>
+Among other compliments and marks of homage the old man was presented with a golden
+plaque, on one side of which Sicard, who stood revealed as a master of the
+burin, had engraved his portrait with rare fidelity. The reverse was
+resplendent with one of the most beautiful syntheses which the history of art
+has known; a surprising allegory, in which the imagination of the artist evoked
+the man of science, the singer of the insects, the landscape which had seen the
+birth of so many little lives, and the village amid the olive-trees, in front
+of the sun-steeped Ventoux.</p>
+
+<p>
+At this festival, the jubilee of a scientist, the scientists were least numerous.</p>
+
+<p>
+The banquet was given in the large room of a cafe in the midst of Sérignan; in
+order, no doubt, that in this humble life even glory should be modest.</p>
+
+<p>
+As Fabre could not walk, he was helped into the carriage of ceremony, which was
+sent expressly from Orange, and the little procession, which was swelled by the
+municipal choral society, spurred on by Marius, moved slowly off along the sole
+central street.</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a great family repast: one of those love-feasts in which all communicate in
+a single thought.</p>
+
+<p>
+Edmond Perrier brought the naturalist the homage of the Institute, and expressed in
+unaffected terms the just admiration which he himself felt. The better to
+praise him, he gave a summary of his admirable career, and his immortal work.
+At the evocation of this long past of labour Fabre regretted his poor vanished
+joys, &quot;the sole moments of happiness in his life.&quot;</p>
+
+
+<p>
+Moved to tears, by his memories and by the simple and pious homage at last rendered
+to his genius, he wept, and many, seeing him weep, wept with him.</p>
+
+<p>
+Others spoke in the name of the great anonymous crowd of friends, of all those who had
+found a source of infinite enjoyment in his works. At the same time the
+greatest writers, the greatest poets sent on the same day, at the same hour,
+their salutation or eloquent messages to the &quot;Virgil of the insects&quot;
+<a href="#C16-21">(16/21.)</a>, to the &quot;good magician who knew the language of the myriad little
+creatures of the fields.&quot; <a href="#C16-22">(16/22.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+Doubtless he would sooner or later have received full justice; but without this
+circumstance it is permissible to add that the end of his life would have
+passed amidst the completest oblivion, and that he would have taken leave of
+the world without attracting any particular attention. His death would have
+occurred unperceived, and when the little vault of Vaison stone, up in the
+small square enclosure of pebbles which serves as the village cemetery, where
+those he has loved await him, came to be opened for the last time, they would
+hardly have troubled to close it again.</p>
+
+<p>
+Yet the honours paid him were far from being such as he merited.</p>
+
+<p>
+Why, at this jubilee of the greatest of the entomologists, was not a single
+appointed representative of entomology present? <a href="#C16-22">(16/22.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+The fact is that the majority of those who &quot;amid the living seek only for
+corpses,&quot; according to the expression of Bacon, unwilling to see in Fabre
+anything more than an imaginative writer, and being themselves incapable of
+understanding the beautiful and of distinguishing it in the true, reproached
+him, perhaps with more jealousy than conviction, with having introduced
+literature into the domains of science.</p>
+
+<p>
+Other entomological specialists accuse him of presenting in the guise of science
+discoveries which have been made by others. But in the first place, as he has
+read very little, he certainly did not know all that had been done by others;
+and what matter if he had discovered nothing essential concerning this or that
+insect if the result of his study of it has been to impregnate it with
+something new, or to touch it with the breath of life?</p>
+
+<p>
+Others, finally, who wished to see with their own eyes the proof of his statements,
+have reproached him with a few errors; but he observed so skilfully that these
+errors, if any have really slipped into his books, cannot be very serious.</p>
+
+<p>
+He was one of the glories of the University, but it failed to add to the
+brilliance of this ceremony, and it is to be regretted that the Government
+could not amid its temporary preoccupations have done with all the spontaneity
+that might have been looked for the one thing which might on this memorable
+date have atoned for its unjust obliviousness. Since Duruy had created Fabre a
+chevalier of the Empire more than forty years had gone by, and in this long
+interval Fabre was absolutely ignored by the authorities. While the State daily
+raises so many commonplace men to the highest honours, it was afterwards
+needful to procure the intervention of influential persons, to justify his
+worth and to prove his deserts, in order to obtain his promotion through one
+degree of rank in that Legion of Honour which his eminent services had so long
+adorned.</p>
+
+<p>
+This tardy reparation at least had the result of shedding a twilight of glory over
+the evening of his life, and from that day he suddenly appeared in his true
+place and took his rank as a man of the first order. Everybody began to read
+him, and presently no one was willing to seem ignorant of him, for more of his
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques&quot; were sold in a few months than had been
+disposed of in more than twenty years. <a href="#C16-24">(16/24.)</a></p>
+
+<p>
+At last Fabre experienced not only glory and renown, but also popularity. This was
+only justice, for his is essentially a popular genius. Has he not striven all
+his life to place the marvels of science within reach of all? And has he not
+written above all for the children of the people?</p>
+
+<p>
+So at last people have learned the way to the Harmas; they go thither now in
+crowds, to visit the enclosure and the modest laboratory, as to a veritable
+place of pilgrimage which attracts from afar many fervent admirers.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+Some, it is true, go thither to see him simply as an object of curiosity; but even
+among these there are those who on returning thence, full of enthusiasm for
+what they have seen, find the flowers of the fields more sweet and fragile, and
+the wild fragrance of the woods and hedges more voluptuous, and the green of
+the trees more tender. They have learnt to look at the earth and to &quot;kneel
+in the grass.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Scientists come to chat with the scientist. Others come to salute the primary schoolman,
+the lay instructor, the great pedagogue whose glory is reflected upon all the
+primary schools of France.</p>
+
+<p>
+Those who cannot visit him write, telling him of all the pleasure which they owe him,
+thanking him for long and delightful hours passed in the reading of his books,
+expressing the hope that he may yet live many years, and still further increase
+the number of his &quot;Souvenirs.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Some ask him a host of questions relating to entomology or philosophy; others ask
+him for impossible answers to some of the fascinating and mysterious problems
+which he has expounded; women confide in him their little private griefs or
+their intimate sorrows, a naive form of homage; but a thousand times more
+touching than any other, and one that shows how profound has been the
+beneficent influence of his books upon certain isolated minds, and what
+consolation can be derived from science when it finds a sufficiently eloquent
+voice to interpret it.</p>
+
+<p>
+As he can work no longer, these visits now fill his life, formally so occupied;
+and in the midst of all the sympathy extended to him he is sensible, not of
+the twilight, but of a sunrise; he feels that his work has been good, that an
+infinity of minds are learning through him to regard plants and animals with
+greater affection; and that the consideration of men, finally directed upon
+his work, will not readily exhaust it, for it is one of the Bibles of Nature.</p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAP17">NOTES.</a></h2>
+<h3> NOTES TO INTRODUCTION.</h3>
+
+<p>
+<a name="Intro-1">Introduction/1.</a><br>
+Letters to his brother, 1898-1900.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="Intro-2">Introduction/2.</a><br>
+I have made some valuable &quot;finds&quot; here; among other pieces cited the
+fragment on &quot;Playthings,&quot; the curious description of the
+&quot;Eclipse,&quot; and the poem on &quot;Number&quot; are here published for
+the first time.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="Intro-3">Introduction/3.</a><br>
+This negligence in the matter of correspondence is not least among the causes
+which have mitigated against his popularity.</p>
+
+<h3> NOTES TO CHAPTER 1.</h3>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C1-1">1/1.</a><br>
+&quot;It is a country that has very little charm.&quot; To his brother, 18th
+August, 1846.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C1-2">1/2.</a><br>
+&quot;Practicien, homme d'affaires ou de chicane&quot;: roughly,
+&quot;practitioner, man of business or law&quot;: so his father is described in
+his birth certificate.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C1-3">1/3.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques,&quot; 2nd series, chapter 4, and 7th series,
+chapter 19.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C1-4">1/4.</a><br>
+Id., 8th series, chapter 8.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C1-5">1/5.</a><br>
+To his brother, 15th August, 1896.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C1-6">1/6.</a><br>
+Id. &quot;As brothers, we are one only; but in virtue of our different tastes
+we are two, and I am amused and interested where you might well be bored.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C1-7">1/7.</a><br>
+Frédéric Fabre, like his brother, an ex-scholar of the normal primary school of
+Vaucluse, was first of all teacher at Lapalud (Vaucluse), then professor in the
+communal college of Orange. He was director of the primary school attached to
+the normal school of Avignon, where he voluntarily retired from teaching in
+1859. He then became, successively, secretary to the Chamber of Commerce of
+Avignon, director of the Vaucluse Docks, and finally director of the Crillon
+Canal, which position he still occupies (December, 1912).<-p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C1-8">1/8.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques,&quot; 10th series, chapter 9.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C1-9">1/9.</a><br>
+Among his innumerable manuscripts I have found a vast number of little poems,
+which date from this period.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C1-10">1/10.</a><br>
+It was then that he gave up his position to his brother Frédéric, who had
+continually followed closely in his steps, and who in turn had just obtained
+the qualification of pupil-teacher and bursar (August, 1842). </p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C1-11">1/11.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques,&quot; 10 series, chapter 21.</p>
+
+<p> <a name="C1-12">1/12.</a><br>
+ To his brother, 2nd and 9th of June, 1851.</p>
+
+<h3> NOTES TO CHAPTER 2.</h3>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C2-1">2/1.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques,&quot; 1st series, chapter 20, and 9th series,
+chapter 13.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C2-2">2/2.</a><br>
+Id., 6th series, chapter 21.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C2-3">2/3.</a><br>
+To his brother, from Ajaccio, 10th June, 1850.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C2-4">2/4.</a><br>
+Id., id.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C2-5">2/5.</a><br>
+Id., from Carpentras, 15th August, 1846.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C2-6">2/6.</a><br>
+Id., from Ajaccio, 10th June, 1850.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C2-7">2/7.</a><br>
+Id., from Carpentras, 15th August, 1846.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C2-8">2/8.</a><br>
+Id., id.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C2-9">2/9.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques,&quot; 1st series, chapter 14.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C2-10">2/10.</a><br>
+To his brother, from Carpentras, 3rd September, 1848.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C2-11">2/11.</a><br>
+Id., 8th September, 1848.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C2-12">2/12.</a><br>
+Id., id.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C2-13">2/13.</a><br>
+Id., 3rd September, 1848.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C2-14">2/14.</a><br>
+Id., id.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C2-15">2/15.</a><br>
+Letter to the Rector of the Nîmes Academy, 29th September, 1848.</p>
+
+<p> <a name="C2-16">2/16.</a><br>
+ To his brother, 29th September, 1848.</p>
+
+<h3> NOTES TO CHAPTER 3.</h3>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C3-1">3/1.</a><br>
+To his father, from Ajaccio, 14th April, 1850.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C3-2">3/2.</a><br>
+To his brother, from Ajaccio, 1851.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C3-3">3/3.</a><br>
+To his brother, from Ajaccio, 9th June, 1851.</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;I have set to work upon a conchology of Corsica, which I hope soon to
+publish.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C3-4">3/4.</a><br>
+The Helix Raspaillii.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C3-5">3/5.</a><br>
+To his brother, from Ajaccio, 10th June, 1850.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C3-6">3/6.</a><br>
+Id., id.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C3-7">3/7.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques,&quot; 9th series, chapter 14.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+<a name="C3-8">3/8.</a><br>
+Number, (Le Nombre--ARITHMOS), poem, Ajaccio, September, 1852.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C3-9">3/9.</a><br>
+To his brother, from Ajaccio, 2nd June, 1851.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C3-10">3/10.</a><br>
+Id., 10th October, 1852, and &quot;Souvenirs entomologiques,&quot; 10th series,
+chapter 21.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C3-11">3/11.</a><br>
+Fr. Mistral, &quot;Mémoires.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Moquin-Tandon, born at Montpellier, was professor of Natural History at Marseilles, at
+Toulouse, and in Paris.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C3-12">3/12.</a><br>
+To his brother, from Ajaccio, 10th October, 1852.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C3-13">3/13.</a><br>
+Id.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C3-14">3/14.</a><br>
+To his brother, from Carpentras, 3rd December, 1851.</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;Our crossing was atrocious. Never have I seen so terrible a sea, and that the
+packet-boat was not broken up by the force of the waves must have been due to
+the fact that our time had not yet come. On two or three occasions I thought my
+last moment was at hand; I leave you to imagine what a terrible experience I
+had. In ordinary weather the packet by which we travelled makes the voyage from
+Ajaccio to Marseilles in about eighteen hours; it is said to be the fastest
+steamer on the Mediterranean. On this occasion it took three days and two
+nights.&quot;</p>
+
+<p> <a name="C3-15">3/15.</a><br>
+ January, 1853.</p>
+
+<h3> NOTES TO CHAPTER 4.</h3>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C4-1">4/1.</a><br>
+To his brother, from Avignon, 1st August, 1854.</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;I have arrived at Toulouse, where I have passed the best examination one could
+possibly wish. I have been accepted as licentiate with the most flattering
+compliments, and the expenses of the examination should be returned to me. The
+examination was of a higher level than I had expected.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C4-2">4/2.</a><br>
+To M. -- (of the Institute), from Avignon, 1854.</p>
+
+<p>
+(Letter communicated to M. Belleudy, prefect of Vaucluse, by M. Vollon, painter.)</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C4-3">4/3.</a><br>
+Id.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C4-4">4/4.</a><br>
+To his brother, from Ajaccio, 10th October, 1852.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C4-5">4/5.</a><br>
+Observations concerning the habits of the Cerceris and the cause of the long
+preservation of the coleoptera with which it provisions its
+larvae.--&quot;Annales de Sc. natur.,&quot; 4th series, 1855.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C4-6">4/6.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques,&quot; 10th series, chapter 22.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C4-7">4/7.</a><br>
+&quot;I had only one idea: to free myself, to leave the lycée, where, not being
+a fellow, I was treated as a subordinate. An inspector-general told me frankly
+one day, 'You will never amount to anything if you are not a fellow' (agrégé).
+'These distinctions disgust me,' I replied.&quot; (Conversations.)</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C4-8">4/8.</a><br>
+To his brother, from Ajaccio, 14th January, 1850.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C4-9">4/9.</a><br>
+Inquiries respecting the tubercles of Himantoglossum hircinum. Thesis in
+Botany, 1855.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C4-10">4/10.</a><br>
+Inquiries respecting the anatomy of the reproductive organs, and the
+developments of the Myriapoda. Thesis in Zoology, 1855.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C4-11">4/11.</a><br>
+Prize for experimental physiology, 1856.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C4-12">4/12.</a><br>
+Letter to Léon Dufour, 1st February, 1857.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C4-13">4/13.</a><br>
+&quot;The Origin of Species,&quot; 1857 (?), translated by Barbier, page 15.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C4-14">4/14.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques,&quot; 1st series, chapter 1, and 5th series,
+chapter 1.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+<a name="C4-15">4/15.</a><br>
+Id., 1st series, chapter 16.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C4-16">4/16.</a><br>
+Id., 1st series, chapter one.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C4-17">4/17.</a><br>
+Henry Devillario, magistrate at Carpentras, where he performed his duties as
+juge d'instruction until his death. A notable collector and distinguished
+publicist.</p>
+
+<p>
+Dr. Bordone, to&#8209;day at Frontignan. Vayssières, professor of Zoology in the
+faculty of sciences at Marseilles.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C4-18">4/18.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques,&quot; 1st series, chapter 13.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C4-19">4/19.</a><br>
+He was subject in his youth to violent headaches, &quot;which sometimes
+developed into a cerebral fever,&quot; as well as strange nervous troubles:
+&quot;A few days ago I was attacked, at night, with a sudden nervous illness,
+of a terrifying nature, which I have not as yet been able to identify.&quot; To
+his brother, 3rd September, 1848.</p>
+
+<p>
+Severe disappointment or annoyance always had a great effect upon him; on the occasion
+of his first marriage he fell into a sort of cataleptic condition as a result
+of the opposition of his parents and relations, who sought to oppose it.
+(Conversations with his brother.)</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C4-20">4/20.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques&quot; 9th series, chapter 23.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C4-21">4/21.</a><br>
+Id., 10th series, chapter 22.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C4-22">4/22.</a><br>
+Letter to Lèon Dufour, 1st February, 1857.</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;Steps have been taken to obtain for me the post of drawing-master (maître des travaux
+graphiques). If they succeed, thanks to the little talent I have for drawing,
+my salary will reach a reasonable figure, 120 pounds sterling, and I can then,
+by giving up these abominable private lessons, cultivate rather more seriously
+the studies into which you have initiated me.&quot; Communicated by M. Achard.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C4-23">4/23.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques&quot; 10th series, chapter 22.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C4-24">4/24.</a><br>
+Oubreto Prouvençalo. La Cigale et la Fourmi.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C4-25">4/25.</a><br>
+Lavisse. A minister. Victor Duruy.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C4-26">4/26.</a><br>
+Letter to the municipal councillors of Avignon.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C4-27">4/27.</a><br>
+J. Stuart Mill, &quot;Autobiography,&quot; chapter 6.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C4-28">4/28.</a><br>
+I have visited this house; nothing, at all events outside, has changed in the
+least.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C4-29">4/29.</a><br>
+Mill collaborated in his &quot;Flore du Vaucluse&quot;: &quot;A virtuous man
+whose recent loss we shall all deplore joined his efforts to mine in this
+undertaking.&quot; Letter to the Mayor of Avignon, 1st December, 1833,
+communicated by M. Félix Achard.</p>
+
+<p>
+NOTES TO CHAPTER 5.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C5-1">5/1.</a><br>
+&quot;Chimie agricole.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C5-2">5/2.</a><br>
+&quot;Le Ciel.&quot; Lectures et Leçons pour tous.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C5-3">5/3.</a><br>
+&quot;La Terre.&quot; Lectures et Leçons pour tous.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C5-4">5/4.</a><br>
+&quot;La Chimie de l'oncle Paul.&quot; Lectures courantes pour toutes les
+écoles.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C5-5">5/5.</a><br>
+&quot;Histoire de la bûche.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C5-6">5/6.</a><br>
+&quot;Les jouets. Le Toton&quot; (manuscript).</p>
+
+
+<p>
+The primitive fountain, the &quot;antique appliance&quot; transmitted by
+inheritance, &quot;the invention perhaps of some little unemployed
+herd-boy,&quot; consisted originally of three apertures and three straws; two
+similar apertures on one side, with two short straws, which dipped into the
+water, and a single orifice on the other side for the longer straw which
+delivered the water. Happening one day to use only two straws, one on each
+side, the little Fabre perceived that the device worked just as well, and
+&quot;so, quite unconsciously, without thinking of it, I discovered the syphon,
+the true syphon of the physicist.&quot; Loco cit.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C5-7">5/7.</a><br>
+&quot;The chemistry course is a great success at home.&quot; To his brother,
+from Orange, 1875.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C5-8">5/8.</a><br>
+To his son Émile, 4th November, 1879.</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;The household; discussions as to domestic economy for use in girls' schools.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C5-9">5/9.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques,&quot; 2nd series, chapter 1.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C5-10">5/10.</a><br>
+To the Mayor of Avignon, 1st December, 1873. Communicated by M. Félix Achard.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C5-11">5/11.</a><br>
+Letter to his brother, 1875.</p>
+
+<p> <a name="C5-12">5/12.</a><br>
+ Id.</p>
+
+<h3> NOTES TO CHAPTER 6.</h3>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C6-1">6/1.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques,&quot; 2nd series, chapter 1.
+&quot;L'Harmas.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C6-2">6/2.</a><br>
+Id., 6th series, chapter 5.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C6-3">6/3.</a><br>
+The Lumbricus phosporeus of Dugés. Fabre had already clearly perceived that
+this curious phenomenon of phosphorescence appears at birth, and he saw in it a
+process of oxidation, a species of respiration, especially active in certain
+tissues.</p>
+
+<p>
+Letter to Léon Dufour, 1st February, 1857. Communicated by M. Félix Achard.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C6-4">6/4.</a><br>
+To his brother, from Carpentras, 15th August, 1846.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C6-5">6/5.</a><br>
+He died at the age of 96.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C6-6">6/6.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques,&quot; 1st series, chapter 21.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C6-7">6/7.</a><br>
+To his son Émile, 4th November, 1879.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C6-8">6/8.</a><br>
+To Henry Devillario, 30th March, 1883.</p>
+
+<p> <a name="C6-9">6/9.</a><br>
+ Id., 17th December, 1888.</p>
+
+<h3> NOTES TO CHAPTER 7.</h3>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C7-1">7/1.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques,&quot; 8th series, chapter 12.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C7-2">7/2.</a><br>
+Id., 7th series, chapter 16.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C7-3">7/3.</a><br>
+Id., 1st series, chapter 4.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C7-4">7/4.</a><br>
+Id., 2nd series, chapter 3.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C7-5">7/5.</a><br>
+Id., 6th series, chapter 21.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C7-6">7/6.</a><br>
+Id., 1st series, chapter 19, and 2nd series, chapter 7.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C7-7">7/7.</a><br>
+Id., 7th series, chapter 23.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C7-8">7/8.</a><br>
+Maeterlinck, &quot;The Bee.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C7-9">7/9.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques,&quot; 7th series, chapter 2.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C7-10">7/10.</a><br>
+Id., 8th series, chapter 22.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C7-11">7/11.</a><br>
+Id., 6th series, chapter 6.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C7-12">7/12.</a><br>
+Id., 9th series, chapter 10.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C7-13">7/13.</a><br>
+Bergson, &quot;l'Evolution créatrice.&quot;</p>
+
+
+<p>
+<a name="C7-14">7/14.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques,&quot; 10th series, chapter 6.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C7-15">7/15.</a><br>
+&quot;Les Serviteurs&quot; and &quot;Les Auxiliaires.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C7-16">7/16.</a><br>
+François Raspail, born at Carpentras in 1794, was also a professor at the
+college of Carpentras.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C7-17">7/17.</a><br>
+To his brother, 3rd September, 1848.</p>
+
+<p>
+The improvement did not last long; the child died finally a short time afterwards.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C7-18">7/18.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques,&quot; 10th series, chapter 21.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C7-19">7/19.</a><br>
+Ed. Perrier. Private letter, 27th October, 1909.</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;He is the finest of all our observers, and all scientists should bow to the facts
+which he excels in discovering.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C7-20">7/20.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques,&quot; 6th series, chapter 25.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C7-21">7/21.</a><br>
+Id., 10th series, chapter 16.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C7-22">7/22.</a><br>
+Id., 10th series, chapter 20.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C7-23">7/23.</a><br>
+Manuscripts, unpublished observations.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C7-24">7/24.</a><br>
+A common spectacle in Provence, but one which Fabre never wearied of seeing.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C7-25">7/25.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques,&quot; 6th series, chapter 17.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C7-26">7/26.</a><br>
+We know that the great naturalist was far from being charmed by the song of the
+nightingale.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C7-27">7/27.</a><br>
+Manuscripts, unpublished observation. These remarks deal with the solar eclipse
+of 28th May, 1900.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C7-28">7/28.</a><br>
+Among the insects which he has observed there are many which are not always sufficiently
+characterized. &quot;Insectes coléoptères observes aux environs
+d'Avignon.&quot; Avignon, pub. Seguin, 1870.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C7-29">7/29.</a><br>
+Coleoptera observed in the neighbourhood of Avignon. A catalogue now very
+scarce, a copy of which I owe to the kindness of Dr. Chobaut, of Avignon.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C7-30">7/30.</a><br>
+Nomina si nescis, perit et cognitio rerum.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C7-31">7/31.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques,&quot; 4th series, chapter 11.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C7-32">7/32.</a><br>
+Id., 9th series, chapter 19.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C7-33">7/33.</a><br>
+Id., 1st series, chapter 9.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C7-34">7/34.</a><br>
+&quot;Jenner's Legend of the isolation of the young Cuckoo in the nest,&quot;
+by Xavier Raspail, &quot;Bull. de la Soc. Zool. de France,&quot; 1903.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C7-35">7/35.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques&quot; 1st series, passim.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C7-36">7/36.</a><br>
+Id., 4th series, chapter 14.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C7-37">7/37.</a><br>
+Id., 1st series, chapter 7.</p>
+
+<p> <a name="C7-38">7/38.</a><br>
+ Id., 2nd series, chapter 2.</p>
+
+<h3> NOTES TO CHAPTER 8.</h3>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C8-1">8/1.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques&quot; 1st series, chapter 2.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C8-2">8/2.</a><br>
+Bergson, &quot;l'Evolution créatrice.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C8-3">8/3.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques,&quot; 2nd series, chapter 4.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C8-4">8/4.</a><br>
+Id., 5th series, chapter 8.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+<a name="C8-5">8/5.</a><br>
+Id., 9th series, chapter 3.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C8-6">8/6.</a><br>
+Id., 1st series, chapter 22.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C8-7">8/7.</a><br>
+Id., 4th series, chapter 3.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C8-8">8/8.</a><br>
+Id., 4th series, chapter 3.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C8-9">8/9.</a><br>
+Id., 4th and 1st series, chapter 19.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C8-10">8/10.</a><br>
+Id., 9th series, chapter 24.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C8-11">8/11.</a><br>
+Id., 10th series, chapter 5.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C8-12">8/12.</a><br>
+Id., 4th series, chapter 6.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C8-13">8/13.</a><br>
+Id., 9th series, chapter 16.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C8-14">8/14.</a><br>
+Id., 2nd series, chapter 5.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C8-15">8/15.</a><br>
+Id., 5th series, chapter 7.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C8-16">8/16.</a><br>
+Id., 6th series, chapter 8.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C8-17">8/17.</a><br>
+Id., 3rd series, chapters 17, 18, 19 and 20.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C8-18">8/18.</a><br>
+Id., 2nd series, chapter 15.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C8-19">8/19.</a><br>
+Id., 3rd series, chapter 11.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C8-20">8/20.</a><br>
+Emerson.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C8-21">8/21.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques,&quot; 4th series, chapter 9.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C8-22">8/22.</a><br>
+Unpublished observations.</p>
+
+<p> <a name="C8-23">8/23.</a><br>
+ &quot;Mireille,&quot; 3rd canto.</p>
+
+<h3> NOTES TO CHAPTER 9.</h3>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C9-1">9/1.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques,&quot; 8th series, chapter 21.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C9-2">9/2.</a><br>
+&quot;Les Ravageurs,&quot; chapter 34, agriculture.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C9-3">9/3.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques,&quot; 10th series, chapter 12.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C9-4">9/4.</a><br>
+Id., 1st series, chapter 2, and 10th series, chapter 13.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C9-5">9/5.</a><br>
+Id., 2nd series, chapter 17.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C9-6">9/6.</a><br>
+Id., 7th series, chapter 20.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C9-7">9/7.</a><br>
+Id., 2nd series, chapter 4.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C9-8">9/8.</a><br>
+At novitas mundi nec frigora dura ciebat, </p>
+
+<p>
+Nec nimios aestus.</p>
+
+<p>
+Lucretius, &quot;De Natura rerum.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C9-9">9/9.</a><br>
+In this connection see the excellent introduction written by M. Edmond Perrier
+to serve as preface to the work of M. de Romanes: &quot;l'Intelligence des
+animaux.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C9-10">9/10.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques,&quot; 8th series, chapter 20.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C9-11">9/11.</a><br>
+To Henry Devillario, 30th March, 1883.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C9-12">9/12.</a><br>
+To Henry Devillario, 12th May, 1883.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C9-13">9/13.</a><br>
+To his brother, 1900.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C9-14">9/14.</a><br>
+Letters to his brother.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+&quot;I am not sulking; far from it...I have no lack of ink and paper; I am too careful
+of them to lack them; but I do lack time...So you still think I am sulking
+because I do not reply! But imagine, my dear and petulant brother, that for
+several weeks I have been pursuing, with unequalled persistence, some
+abominable conic problems proposed at the fellowship examination, and once I
+have mounted my hobby-horse, good-bye to letters, good-bye to replies, goodbye
+to everything.&quot; (Carpentras, 27th November, 1848.)</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;You are right, seven times right to storm at me, to grumble at my silence, and I
+admit, in all contrition, that I am the worst correspondent you could find. To
+force myself to write a letter is to place myself on the rack, as well you
+know...But why do you get it into your head, why do you tell me, that I disdain
+you, that I forget you, that I ignore you, you, my best friend?...For my
+silence blame only the multiplicity of tasks, which often surpasses, not my
+courage, but my strength and my time.&quot; (Ajaccio, 1st June, 1851.)</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C9-15">9/15.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques,&quot; 10th series, chapter 8.</p>
+
+<p> <a name="C9-16">9/16.</a><br>
+ Id., 9th series, chapter 2.</p>
+
+<h3> NOTES TO CHAPTER 10.</h3>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C10-1">10/1.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques,&quot; 1st series, chapter 21.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C10-2">10/2.</a><br>
+Id., 9th series, chapter 2.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C10-3">10/3.</a><br>
+Id., 10th series, chapter 4.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C10-4">10/4.</a><br>
+Montaigne's Essays.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C10-5">10/5.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques,&quot; 8th series, chapter 17.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C10-6">10/6.</a><br>
+&quot;Les Ravageurs.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C10-7">10/7.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques,&quot; 10th series, chapter 18, and
+&quot;Merveilles de l'instinct: la Chenille du chou.&quot;</p>
+
+<p> <a name="C10-8">10/8.</a><br>
+ Id., 8th series, chapter 17.</p>
+
+<h3> NOTES TO CHAPTER 11.</h3>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C11-1">11/1.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques,&quot; 3rd series, chapter 8.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C11-2">11/2.</a><br>
+Id., 2nd series, chapter 14 et seq.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C11-3">11/3.</a><br>
+Id., 6th series, chapter 9.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C11-4">11/4.</a><br>
+Id., 5th series, chapter 19.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C11-5">11/5.</a><br>
+Tolstoy: &quot;All that the human heart contains of evil should disappear at
+the contact of nature, that most immediate expression of the beautiful and the
+good.&quot; (&quot;The Invaders.&quot;)</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C11-6">11/6.</a><br>
+The &quot;Livre d'histoires&quot; and &quot;Chimie agricole.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C11-7">11/7.</a><br>
+&quot;Oubreto Provençalo. La Bise.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C11-8">11/8.</a><br>
+Id., &quot;Le Semeur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p> <a name="C11-9">11/9.</a><br>
+ Id., &quot;Le Crapaud.&quot;</p>
+
+<h3> NOTES TO CHAPTER 12.</h3>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C12-1">12/1.</a><br>
+&quot;Oubreto Provençalo. Le Maréchal.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C12-2">12/2.</a><br>
+&quot;Oubreto Provençalo.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C12-3">12/3.</a><br>
+In this connection see the admirable passage in Sainte-Beuve's
+&quot;Port-Royal,&quot; Book 2, chapter 14.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C12-4">12/4.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques,&quot; 4th series, chapter 1.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C12-5">12/5.</a><br>
+Id., 1st series, chapter 17.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+<a name="C12-6">12/6.</a><br>
+Id., 7th series, chapter 8.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C12-7">12/7.</a><br>
+Id., 7th series, chapter 10.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C12-8">12/8.</a><br>
+Id., 8th series, chapter 8.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C12-9">12/9.</a><br>
+Id., 8th series, chapter 20.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C12-10">12/10.</a><br>
+Id., 6th series, chapter 14.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C12-11">12/11.</a><br>
+Id., 8th series, chapter 18.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C12-12">12/12.</a><br>
+Id., 10th series, chapter 8.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C12-13">12/13.</a><br>
+Id., 10th series, chapter 6.</p>
+
+<p> <a name="C12-14">12/14.</a><br>
+ Id., 5th series, chapter 22.</p>
+
+<h3> NOTES TO CHAPTER 13.</h3>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C13-1">13/1.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques,&quot; 10th series, chapter 17.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C13-2">13/2.</a><br>
+Id., 9th series, chapter 4, &quot;l'Exode des arignées&quot; (the Exodus of the
+Spiders), and chapter 5, &quot;l'Araignée crabe&quot; (the Crab Spider).</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C13-3">13/3.</a><br>
+Id., 5th series, chapter 17.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C13-4">13/4.</a><br>
+Id., 3rd series, chapter 8.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C13-5">13/5.</a><br>
+Id., 6th series, chapter 14.</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;Oubreto. Le Grillon,&quot; and unpublished verses.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C13-6">13/6.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques,&quot; 2nd series, chapter 16.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C13-7">13/7.</a><br>
+Id., 9th series, chapter 21.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C13-8">13/8.</a><br>
+&quot;Les Merveilles de l'instinct: le Ver luisant&quot; (Marvels of Instinct:
+the Glow-worm).</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C13-9">13/9.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques,&quot; 2nd series, chapter 12.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C13-10">13/10.</a><br>
+Id., 8th series, chapter 22, and 9th series, chapter 11.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C13-11">13/11.</a><br>
+Id., 5th series, chapter 18.</p>
+
+<p>
+NOTES TO CHAPTER 14.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C14-1">14/1.</a><br>
+Grandjean de Fouchy: eulogy of Réaumur, in &quot;Recueils de l'Acad.des
+sciences,&quot; volume 157 H, page 201, and Preface to the &quot;Lettres
+inédites de Réaumur,&quot; by G. Musset.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C14-2">14/2.</a><br>
+&quot;Mémoires,&quot; passim, and volume 2, 1st mémoire.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C14-3">14/3.</a><br>
+Id., volume 3, 3rd mémoire.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C14-4">14/4.</a><br>
+Id., volume 2, 1st mémoire.</p>
+
+<p>
+Ch. Tellier, &quot;Le Frigorifique&quot; (Refrigeration), story of a modern
+invention, chapter 23; cold applied to the animal kingdom.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C14-5">14/5.</a><br>
+Léon Dufour: &quot;Journal de sa vie.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Souvenirs and impressions of travel in the Pyrenees to Gavarnie, Héas, the
+&quot;Montagnes maudites,&quot; etc. Entomological excursions on the dunes of
+Biscarosse and Arcachon.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C14-6">14/6.</a><br>
+Id., direction of entomological studies.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C14-7">14/7.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques&quot; 2nd series, chapter 1:
+&quot;L'Harmas.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C14-8">14/8.</a><br>
+Id., 5th series, chapter 11.</p>
+
+<h3> NOTES TO CHAPTER 15.</h3>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C15-1">15/1.</a><br>
+Louis Charrasse, private letter, 20th February, 1912, and &quot;Le Bassin du
+Rhône,&quot; March, 1911.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C15-2">15/2.</a><br>
+&quot;Oubreto. Le Crapaud.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C15-3">15/3.</a><br>
+It was only in the afternoon that he devoted himself, when needful, to microscopic
+researches, on account of the better inclination of the light.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C15-4">15/4.</a><br>
+He lost it at the end of last spring.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C15-5">15/5.</a><br>
+&quot;Les Serviteurs. Le Canard.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C15-6">15/6.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques,&quot; 1st series, chapter 13: an ascent of Mont
+Ventoux.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C15-7">15/7.</a><br>
+The name given to Christmas in Provence.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C15-8">15/8.</a><br>
+Louis Charrasse, private letters.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C15-9">15/9.</a><br>
+Id.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C15-10">15/10.</a><br>
+1888-1892.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C15-11">15/11.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques,&quot; 2nd series, chapter 2.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C15-12">15/12.</a><br>
+Louis Charrasse, private letter.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C15-13">15/13.</a><br>
+Letter to his nephew, Antonin Fabre, 4th January, 1885.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C15-14">15/14.</a><br>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques,&quot; 6th series, chapter 19.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C15-15">15/15.</a><br>
+Id., 6th series, chapter 2.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C15-16">15/16.</a><br>
+Id., 6th series, chapter 11.</p>
+
+<p> <a name="C15-17">15/17.</a><br>
+ Conversations.</p>
+
+<h3> NOTES TO CHAPTER 16.</h3>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C16-1">16/1.</a><br>
+Letter to his brother, 4th February, 1900.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C16-2">16/2.</a><br>
+To his brother, 18th July, 1908. At this time the eighth volume of his
+&quot;Souvenirs&quot; had just appeared, and the ninth was in hand.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C16-3">16/3.</a><br>
+Id.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C16-4">16/4.</a><br>
+&quot;Chimie agricole.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C16-5">16/5.</a><br>
+To his brother, 10th October, 1898.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C16-6">16/6.</a><br>
+Private letter, 30th March, 1908.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C16-7">16/7.</a><br>
+Id.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C16-8">16/8.</a><br>
+Id.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C16-9">16/9.</a><br>
+Unpublished experiments.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C16-10">16/10.</a><br>
+To Charles Delagrave, 27th January, 1899.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C16-11">16/11.</a><br>
+To his brother, 4th February, 1900.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C16-12">16/12.</a><br>
+This prize was awarded to Fabre in 1899. The amount of the prize is 400 pounds
+sterling. It is one of the chief prizes of the Institute.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C16-13">16/13.</a><br>
+Edmond Rostand. Private letter, 7th April, 1910: &quot;His books have been my
+delight during a very long convalescence.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C16-14">16/14.</a><br>
+This magnificent atlas, the gem of Fabre's collections, comprises nearly 700
+plates, and a large body of explanatory and descriptive matter.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+<a name="C16-15">16/15.</a><br>
+To Charles Delagrave, undated.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C16-16">16/16.</a><br>
+Maeterlinck. Private letter, 17th November, 1909.</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;Les 4 Chemins, </p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;Grasse (Alpes-Maritimes).</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;You overwhelm me with pleasure and do me the greatest honour in allowing my name to
+be inscribed among those of the committee which proposes to celebrate the
+jubilee of Henri Fabre...Henri Fabre is, indeed, one of the chiefest and purest
+glories that the civilized world at present possesses; one of the most learned
+naturalists and the most wonderful of poets in the modern and truly legitimate
+sense of the word. I cannot tell you how delighted I am by the chance you offer
+me of expressing in this way one of the profoundest admirations of my
+life.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C16-17">16/17.</a><br>
+J. Belleudy, prefect of Vaucluse. Private letter, 29th September, 1909.</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;It pains me to see so great a mind, so eminent a scientist, such a master of
+French literature, so little known. Two years ago, when the Gegner prize was
+awarded to him, I felt that I must speak of him to certain of those about me;
+and they had hardly heard his name!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C16-18">16/18.</a><br>
+Letter to Frédéric Mistral, 4th July, 1908.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C16-19">16/19.</a><br>
+Council General of Vaucluse, session of August, 1908. The words of the
+recorder, M. Lacour, mayor of Orange, to&#8209;day deputy for Vaucluse, a
+personal friend and ardent admirer of the old master.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C16-20">16/20.</a><br>
+Edmond Rostand. Private letter, 20th November, 1909.</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;I am, sir, not only greatly touched, but also and above all delighted that you
+have thought of including me among the friends who wish to fete Henri Fabre.
+Thanks for having considered that my name would assist your undertaking. The
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques&quot; have long ago made me intimate with his
+charming, profound, and moving genius. I owe them an infinity of delightful
+hours. Perhaps also I ought to thank them for having encouraged one of my sons
+to pursue the vocation which he entered. If, in order to honour Henri Fabre,
+you run the pious risk of disturbing, for a moment, the studious retreat in
+which, for so many years, he has pursued his life and his work, it is an act of
+justice toward this great scientist, who thinks as a philosopher, sees as an
+artist, and feels and expresses himself as a poet.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Romain Rolland. Private letter, 7th January, 1910.</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;You cannot imagine what pleasure you have given me by requesting me to associate
+myself in the glorification of J.H. Fabre. He is one of the Frenchmen whom I
+most admire. The impassioned patience of his ingenious observations delights me
+as much as the masterpieces of art. For years I have read and loved his books.
+During my last holidays, of three volumes that I travelled with two were
+volumes of his &quot;Souvenirs entomologiques.&quot; You will honour me and
+delight me by counting me as one of you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C16-21">16/21.</a><br>
+Edmond Rostand. Telegram.</p>
+
+<p>
+<a name="C16-22">16/22.</a><br>
+RomainRolland. </p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAP18">INDEX.</a></h2>
+<p>
+Achard, M.</p>
+
+<p>
+Agaricus, luminosity of.</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;Agricultural Chemistry.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Ajaccio, Fabre at.</p>
+
+<p>
+Ammophila.</p>
+<p>
+Anthidium.</p>
+<p>
+Anthophora.</p>
+<p>
+Anthrax.</p>
+
+<p>
+Arachne clotho.</p>
+
+<p>
+Arachnoids, cannibalism of.</p>
+
+<p>
+Audubon.</p>
+<p>
+Avignon, Fabre at.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--suggested agronomic station at.</p>
+
+<p>
+Balaninus.</p>
+<p>
+Balzac.</p>
+<p>
+Bees.</p>
+<p>
+Belleudy, M.</p>
+
+<p>
+Bembex.</p>
+<p>
+Bergson.</p>
+<p>
+Bernard, Claude.</p>
+
+<p>
+Blanchard.</p>
+<p>
+Blue fly.</p>
+
+<p>
+Bombyx.</p>
+<p>
+Bordone.</p>
+<p>
+Bossuet.</p>
+<p>
+Bourdon.</p>
+<p>
+Buffon.</p>
+<p>
+Buprestis.</p>
+<p>
+Calendal.</p>
+<p>
+Calendar-beetle.</p>
+<p>
+Calosoma sycophanta.</p>
+
+<p>
+Candolle, de.</p>
+
+<p>
+Cannibalism.</p>
+<p>
+Cantharides.</p>
+<p>
+Cantharis, courtship of.</p>
+
+<p>
+Capricornis.</p>
+<p>
+Carabidae.</p>
+<p>
+Carpentras.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--fauna of.</p>
+
+<p>
+Caterpillars, poisonous.</p>
+
+<p>
+Centipedes.</p>
+<p>
+Cerceris.</p>
+<p>
+Chalcidia.</p>
+<p>
+Chalicodoma.</p>
+<p>
+Charrasse, Louis.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+Chermes.</p>
+<p>
+Cicada (Cigale).</p>
+
+<p>
+Cicadelina.</p>
+<p>
+Cicindela.</p>
+<p>
+Cione.</p>
+<p>
+Clathrix.</p>
+<p>
+Clythris.</p>
+<p>
+Clytus.</p>
+<p>
+Cleona opthalmica.</p>
+
+<p>
+Coincidence in life of parasites.</p>
+
+<p>
+Coleoptera of Avignon.</p>
+
+<p>
+Conchology, Fabre studies.</p>
+
+<p>
+Copris.</p>
+<p>
+Corsica.</p>
+<p>
+Courrier.</p>
+<p>
+Crickets, courtship of.</p>
+
+<p>
+Crioceris.</p>
+<p>
+Cuckoo.</p>
+<p>
+Curves, properties of.</p>
+
+<p>
+Darwin, Charles, Fabre an opponent of.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--praises Fabre.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--corresponds with Fabre.<br>
+
+<p>
+Darwin, Erasmus.</p>
+
+<p>
+Decticus.</p>
+<p>
+Delagrave, Charles.</p>
+
+<p>
+Dermestes.</p>
+<p>
+Devillario, Henry.</p>
+
+<p>
+Dorthesia.</p>
+<p>
+Dufour, Léon.</p>
+
+<p>
+Dumas.</p>
+<p>
+Dung-beetles.</p>
+<p>
+Duruy, Victor.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--sends for Fabre to attend Court.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--fall of.<br>
+
+<p>
+Dyticus.</p>
+<p>
+&quot;Earth, The.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Eclipse of sun.</p>
+
+<p>
+Education in France.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+Ephippigera.</p>
+<p>
+Epeïra.</p>
+<p>
+Emerson.</p>
+<p>
+Empusa.</p>
+<p>
+Ergatus.</p>
+<p>
+Eucera.</p>
+<p>
+Eumenes.</p>
+<p>
+Evil.</p>
+<p>
+Evolution.</p>
+<p>
+Fabre, Aglaë.</p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre, Antoine.</p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre, Antonia.</p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre, Antonin.</p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre, Émile.</p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre, Frédéric.</p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre, Henri.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--birthplace.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--childhood.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--boyhood.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--school days.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--a primary teacher.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--marriage and loss of first child.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--professor of physics at Ajaccio.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--professor at Avignon.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--takes up entomology.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--salary.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--poverty.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--as teacher.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--character.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--his pupils.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--goes to Court and is decorated.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--writes textbooks for schools.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--portraits of.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--meets J.S. Mill.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--denounced for subversive teaching.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--evicted.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--settles at Orange, money difficulties solved by Mill.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--breaks with the University.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--continues his series of textbooks.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--repays Mill money lent.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--dismissed from Requien Museum.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--researches concerning madder.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--leaves Orange.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--work at Sérignan.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--second marriage.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--his workshop.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--methods of work.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--attitude toward evolution.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--corresponds with Darwin.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--ideas as to origin of species.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--methods of work.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--compared with Réaumur.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--life at Sérignan.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--love of music.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--old age.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--poverty.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--jubilee celebrated.<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre, Henri, of Avignon.</p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre, Jules.</p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre, Paul.</p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre, Mme (mother of Henri).</p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre, Mme (1st wife).</p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre, Mme (2nd<a name=QuickMark></a> wife).</p>
+
+<p>
+Fabre, Mme Antoine.</p>
+
+<p>
+Favier.</p>
+<p>
+Female education.</p>
+
+<p>
+Frog, bellringer.</p>
+
+<p>
+Gadfly.</p>
+<p>
+Gegner prize.</p>
+
+<p>
+Geometry, Fabre's love of.</p>
+
+<p>
+Geotrupes.</p>
+<p>
+Glow-worm.</p>
+<p>
+Goat caterpillar.</p>
+
+<p>
+Goethe.</p>
+<p>
+Grasshopper.</p>
+<p>
+Halictus.</p>
+<p>
+Harmas, the.</p>
+
+<p>
+Heat, takes place of food.</p>
+
+<p>
+Helix raspaillii.</p>
+
+<p>
+Hemerobius, curious garment of.</p>
+
+<p>
+Horace.</p>
+<p>
+Horn-beetle.</p>
+<p>
+Horus Apollo.</p>
+
+<p>
+Huber.</p>
+<p>
+Hugo, Victor.</p>
+
+<p>
+Hyper-metamorphism.</p>
+<p>
+Instinct.</p>
+<p>
+Intelligence, function of.</p>
+
+<p>
+Janin, Jules.</p>
+
+<p>
+Jullian.</p>
+<p>
+Jussieu, de.</p>
+
+<p>
+La Fontaine.</p>
+
+<p>
+Lamarck.</p>
+
+<p>
+Lapalud.</p>
+<p>
+Latreille.</p>
+<p>
+Larra.</p>
+<p>
+Leibnitz.</p>
+<p>
+Leucopsis.</p>
+<p>
+Libellula.</p>
+<p>
+Linnaeus.</p>
+<p>
+Locust.</p>
+<p>
+&quot;Log, Story of the.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Lycosa.</p>
+<p>
+Madder, Fabre's researches concerning.</p>
+
+<p>
+Magendie.</p>
+<p>
+Malaval.</p>
+<p>
+Mantis.</p>
+<p>
+Maquis, the Corsican.</p>
+
+<p>
+Marius.</p>
+<p>
+Mason-bee.</p>
+<p>
+Medicine, Fabre's inclination toward.</p>
+
+<p>
+Megachile.</p>
+<p>
+Meloë.</p>
+<p>
+Michelet.</p>
+<p>
+Mill, J.S.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--helps Fabre in difficulties.</p>
+
+<p>
+death of.</p>
+
+<p>
+Mill, Mrs.</p>
+
+<p>
+Millipedes.</p>
+<p>
+Mimicry.</p>
+<p>
+Mind, of animals.</p>
+
+<p>
+Minotaurus.</p>
+<p>
+Mistral.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--corresponds with Fabre.</p>
+
+<p>
+Mitscherlich.</p>
+<p>
+Montyon prize.</p>
+
+<p>
+Moquin-Tandon.</p>
+<p>
+Mushrooms, recipe for cooking.</p>
+
+<p>
+Napoleon III.</p>
+
+<p>
+Necrophorus.</p>
+<p>
+Number, properties of.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--poem.</p>
+<p>
+Odynerus.</p>
+<p>
+Oniticella.</p>
+<p>
+Onthophagus.</p>
+<p>
+Orange, Fabre at.</p>
+
+<p>
+Orchids, Fabre on.</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;Origin of Species.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Orthoptera, primitive.</p>
+
+<p>
+Osmia, control of sex.</p>
+
+<p>
+courtship of.</p>
+
+<p>
+Pasteur.</p>
+<p>
+Peacock moth.</p>
+
+<p>
+Pelopaeus.</p>
+<p>
+Perrier, Ed.</p>
+
+<p>
+Philanthus.</p>
+<p>
+Phryganea.</p>
+<p>
+Pieris.</p>
+<p>
+&quot;Plant, The.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Pliny.</p>
+<p>
+Poems, Fabre's.</p>
+
+<p>
+Polygons, properties of.</p>
+
+<p>
+Pompilus.</p>
+<p>
+Potato.</p>
+<p>
+Processional caterpillar.</p>
+
+<p>
+Psyche.</p>
+<p>
+Rabelais.</p>
+<p>
+Raspail.</p>
+<p>
+Racine.</p>
+<p>
+Réaumur.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--compared with Fabre.</p>
+
+<p>
+Requien of Avignon.</p>
+
+<p>
+Requien Museum.</p>
+
+<p>
+Rhynchites.</p>
+<p>
+Ricard, Pierre, schoolmaster.</p>
+
+<p>
+Rose-beetle.</p>
+<p>
+Roumanille.</p>
+<p>
+Saint-Léons.</p>
+
+<p>
+Saprinidae.</p>
+<p>
+Sarcophagus.</p>
+<p>
+Scarabaeus sacer.</p>
+
+<p>
+Scolia.</p>
+<p>
+Scolopendra.</p>
+<p>
+Scorpion.</p>
+<p>
+Sérignan.</p>
+<p>
+Fabre settles at.</p>
+
+<p>
+evenings at.</p>
+
+<p>
+Sicard's portraits of Fabre.</p>
+
+<p>
+Silkworm moth.</p>
+
+<p>
+Sisyphus.</p>
+<p>
+Sitaris.</p>
+<p>
+&quot;Sky, The.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+&quot;Souvenirs entomologiques.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Spaeriaceae.</p>
+<p>
+Sphex.</p>
+<p>
+Spiders, aeronautic.</p>
+
+<p>
+Sport, Fabre's love of.</p>
+
+<p>
+Staphylinus.</p>
+<p>
+Tachina.</p>
+<p>
+Tachinarius.</p>
+<p>
+Tachytes.</p>
+<p>
+Tarantula.</p>
+<p>
+Taylor, Harriett (Mrs. J.S. Mill).</p>
+
+<p>
+Taylor, Miss.</p>
+
+<p>
+Terebinth louse.</p>
+
+<p>
+Theophrastus.</p>
+<p>
+Thomisus.</p>
+<p>
+Tolstoy.</p>
+<p>
+Toussenel.</p>
+<p>
+Trox.</p>
+<p>
+Vanessa.</p>
+<p>
+&quot;Vaucluse, Flora of the.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+Vaucluse, General Council of, grants Fabre a pension.</p>
+
+<p>
+Vayssières, M.</p>
+
+<p>
+Ventoux Alp.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--banquet on the.</p>
+
+
+<p>
+Vezins.</p>
+<p>
+Villard, Marie (Mme Henri Fabre).</p>
+
+<p>
+Virgil.</p>
+<p>
+Volucella.</p>
+<p>
+Wasps' nest in winter.</p>
+
+<p>
+Weevils, sloe.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--poplar.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--acorn and poplar.<br>
+
+<p>
+Woodland bug.</p>
+
+<p>
+Xylocopa.
+</p>
+
+<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 3489 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
+
+
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+Title: Fabre, Poet of Science
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+
+
+FABRE, POET OF SCIENCE
+
+by DR. G.-V. LEGROS.
+
+
+
+
+"De fimo ad excelsa."
+J.-H. Fabre.
+
+WITH A PREFACE BY JEAN-HENRI FABRE.
+
+TRANSLATED BY BERNARD MIALL.
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+The good friend who has so successfully terminated the task which he felt a
+vocation to undertake thought it would be of advantage to complete it by
+presenting to the reader a picture both of my life as a whole and of the
+work which it has been given me to accomplish.
+
+The better to accomplish his undertaking, he abstracted from my
+correspondence, as well as from the long conversations which we have so
+often enjoyed together, a great number of those memories of varying
+importance which serve as landmarks in life; above all in a life like mine,
+not exempt from many cares, yet not very fruitful in incidents or great
+vicissitudes, since it has been passed very largely, in especial during the
+last thirty years, in the most absolute retirement and the completest
+silence.
+
+Moreover, it was not unimportant to warn the public against the errors,
+exaggerations, and legends which have collected about my person, and thus
+to set all things in their true light.
+
+In undertaking this task my devoted disciple has to some extent been able
+to replace those "Memoirs" which he suggested that I should write, and
+which only my bad health has prevented me from undertaking; for I feel that
+henceforth I am done with wide horizons and "far-reaching thoughts."
+
+And yet on reading now the old letters which he has exhumed from a mass of
+old yellow papers, and which he has presented and co-ordinated with so
+pious a care, it seems to me that in the depths of my being I can still
+feel rising in me all the fever of my early years, all the enthusiasm of
+long ago, and that I should still be no less ardent a worker were not the
+weakness of my eyes and the failure of my strength to-day an insurmountable
+obstacle.
+
+Thoroughly grasping the fact that one cannot write a biography without
+entering into the sphere of those ideas which alone make a life
+interesting, he has revived around me that world which I have so long
+contemplated, and summarized in a striking epitome, and as a strict
+interpreter, my methods (which are, as will be seen, within the reach of
+all), my ideas, and the whole body of my works and discoveries; and despite
+the obvious difficulty which such an attempt would appear to present, he
+has succeeded most wonderfully in achieving the most lucid, complete, and
+vital exposition of these matters that I could possibly have wished.
+
+Jean-Henri Fabre.
+
+Sérignan, Vaucluse,
+November 12, 1911.
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+
+
+CHAPTER 1. THE INTUITION OF NATURE.
+
+
+CHAPTER 2. THE PRIMARY TEACHER.
+
+
+CHAPTER 3. CORSICA.
+
+
+CHAPTER 4. AT AVIGNON.
+
+
+CHAPTER 5. A GREAT TEACHER.
+
+
+CHAPTER 6. THE HERMITAGE.
+
+
+CHAPTER 7. THE INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.
+
+
+CHAPTER 8. THE MIRACLE OF INSTINCT.
+
+
+CHAPTER 9. EVOLUTION OR "TRANSFORMISM."
+
+
+CHAPTER 10. THE ANIMAL MIND.
+
+
+CHAPTER 11. HARMONIES AND DISCORDS.
+
+
+CHAPTER 12. THE TRANSLATION OF NATURE.
+
+
+CHAPTER 13. THE EPIC OF ANIMAL LIFE.
+
+
+CHAPTER 14. PARALLEL LIVES.
+
+
+CHAPTER 15. THE EVENINGS AT SÉRIGNAN.
+
+
+CHAPTER 16. TWILIGHT.
+
+
+NOTES.
+
+
+INDEX.
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+
+Here I offer to the public the life of Jean-Henri Fabre; at once an
+admiring commentary upon his work and an act of pious homage, such as ought
+to be offered, while he lives, to the great naturalist who is even to-day
+so little known.
+
+Hitherto it was not easy to speak of Henri Fabre with exactitude. An enemy
+to all advertisement, he has so discreetly held himself withdrawn that one
+might almost say that he has encouraged, by his silence, many doubtful or
+unfounded rumours, which in course of time would become even more
+incorrect.
+
+For example, although quite recently his material situation was presented
+in the gloomiest of lights, while it had really for some time ceased to be
+precarious, it is none the less true that during his whole life he has had
+to labour prodigiously in order to earn a little money to feed and rear his
+family, to the great detriment of his scientific inquiries; and we cannot
+but regret that he was not freed from all material cares at least twenty
+years earlier than was the case.
+
+But he was not one to speak of his troubles to the first comer; and it was
+only after the sixth volume of the "Souvenirs entomologiques" had appeared
+that his reserve was somewhat mitigated. Yet it was necessary that he
+should speak of these troubles, that he should tell everything; and, thanks
+to his conversation and his letters, I have been able to revive the past.
+
+Among the greatest of my pleasures I count the notable honour of having
+known him, and intimately. As an absorbed and attentive witness I was
+present at the accomplishment of his last labours; I watched his last years
+of work, so critical, so touching, so forsaken, before his ultimate
+resurrection. What fruitful and suggestive lessons I learned in his
+company, as we paced the winding paths of his Harmas; or while I sat beside
+him, at his patriarchal table, interrogating that memory of his, so rich in
+remembrances that even the remotest events of his life were as near to him
+as those that had only then befallen him; so that the majority of the
+judgments to be found in this book, of which not a line has been written
+without his approval, may be regarded as the direct emanation of his mind.
+
+As far as possible I have allowed him to speak himself. Has he not sketched
+the finest pages of his "biography of a solitary student" in those racy
+chapters of his "Souvenirs": those in which he has developed his genesis as
+a naturalist and the history of the evolution of his ideas?
+(Introduction/1.) In all cases I have only introduced such indications as
+were essential to complete the sequence of events. It would have been idle
+to re-tell in the same terms what every one may read elsewhere, or to
+repeat in different and less happy terms what Fabre himself has told so
+well.
+
+I have therefore applied myself more especially to filling the gaps which
+he has left, by listening to his conversation, by appealing to his
+memories, by questioning his contemporaries, by recording the impressions
+of his sometime pupils. I have endeavoured to assemble all these data, in
+order to authenticate them, and have also gleaned many facts among his
+manuscripts (Introduction/2.), and have had recourse to all that portion of
+his correspondence which fortunately fell into my hands.
+
+This correspondence, to be truthful, does not appear at any time to have
+been very assiduous. Fabre, as we shall see in the story of his life
+(Introduction/3.), disliked writing letters, both in his studious youth and
+during the later period of isolation and silence.
+
+On the other hand, although he wrote but little, he never wrote with
+difficulty or as a mere matter of duty. Among all the letters which I have
+succeeded in collecting there are scarcely any that are not of interest
+from one point of view or another. No frivolous narratives, no futile
+acquaintances, no commonplace intimacies; everything in his life is
+serious, and everything makes for a goal.
+
+But we must set apart, as surpassing all others in interest, the letters
+which Fabre addressed to his brother during the years spent as schoolmaster
+at Carpentras or Ajaccio; for these are more especially instructive in
+respect of the almost unknown years of his youth; these most of all reveal
+his personality and are one of the finest illustrations that could be given
+of his life, a true poem of energy and disinterested labour.
+
+I have to thank M. Frédéric Fabre, who, in his fraternal piety, has
+generously placed all his family records at my disposal, and also his two
+sons, my dear friends Antonin Fabre, councillor at the Court of Nîmes, and
+Henri Fabre, of Avignon, for these precious documents; and I take this
+opportunity of expressing my profound gratitude.
+
+Let me at the same time thank all those who have associated themselves with
+my efforts by supplying me with letters in their possession and furnishing
+me with personal information; and in particular Mme Henry Devillario, M.
+Achard, and M. J. Belleudy, ex-prefect of Vaucluse; not forgetting M. Louis
+Charrasse, teacher at Beaumont-d'Orange, and M. Vayssières, professor of
+the Faculty of Sciences at Marseilles, all of whom I have to thank for
+personal and intimate information.
+
+I must also express my gratitude to M. Henri Bergson, Professor Bouvier,
+and the learned M. Paul Marchal for the advice and the valuable suggestions
+which they offered me during the preparation of this book.
+
+I shall feel fully repaid for my pains if this "Life" of one of the
+greatest of the world's naturalists, by enabling men to know him better,
+also leads them to love him the more.
+
+
+FABRE, POET OF SCIENCE.
+
+
+CHAPTER 1. THE INTUITION OF NATURE.
+
+Each thing created, says Emerson, has its painter or its poet. Like the
+enchanted princess of the fairy-tales, it awaits its predestined liberator.
+
+Every part of nature has its mystery and its beauty, its logic and its
+explanation; and the epigraph given me by Fabre himself, which appears on
+the title-page of this volume, is in no way deceptive. The tiny insects
+buried in the soil or creeping over leaf or blade have for him been
+sufficient to evoke the most important, the most fascinating problems, and
+have revealed a whole world of miracle and poetry.
+
+He saw the light at Saint-Léons, a little commune of the canton of Vezins
+in the Haut Rouergue, on the 22nd December, 1823, some seven years earlier
+than Mistral, his most famous neighbour, the greater lustre of whose
+celebrity was to eclipse his own.
+
+Here he essayed his earliest steps; here he stammered his first syllables.
+
+His early childhood, however, was passed almost wholly at Malaval, a tiny
+hamlet in the parish of Lavaysse, whose belfry was visible at quite a short
+distance; but to reach it one had to travel nearly twenty-five rough,
+mountainous miles, through a whole green countryside; green, but bare, and
+lacking in charm. (1/1.)
+
+All his paternal forebears came from Malaval, and thence one day his
+father, Antoine Fabre, came to dwell at Saint-Léons, as a consequence of
+his marriage with the daughter of the huissier, Victoire Salgues, and in
+order to prepare himself, as working apprentice, in the tricks and quibbles
+of the law. (1/2.)
+
+In the roads of Malaval, bordered with brambles, in the glades of bracken,
+and amid the meadows of broom, he received his first impressions of nature.
+At Malaval too lived his grandmother, the good old woman who could lull him
+to sleep at night with beautiful stories and simple legends, while she
+wound her distaff or spun her bobbin.
+
+But what were all these imaginary marvels, what were the ogres who smelt
+fresh meat, or "the fairies who turned pumpkins into coaches and lizards
+into footmen" beside all the marvels of reality, which already he was
+beginning to perceive?
+
+For above all things he was born a poet: a poet by instinct and by
+vocation. From his earliest childhood, "the brain hardly released from the
+swaddling-bands of unconsciousness," the things of the outer world left a
+profound and living impression. As far back as he can remember, while still
+quite a child, "a little monkey of six, still dressed in a little baize
+frock," or just "wearing his first braces," he sees himself "in ecstasy
+before the splendours of the wing-cases of a gardener-beetle, or the wings
+of a butterfly." At nightfall, among the bushes, he learned to recognize
+the chirp of the grasshopper. To put it in his own words, "he made for the
+flowers and insects as the Pieris makes for the cabbage and the Vanessa
+makes for the nettle." The riches of the rocks; the life which swarms in
+the depth of the waters; the world of plants and animals, that "prodigious
+poem; all nature filled him with curiosity and wonder." "A voice charmed
+him; untranslatable; sweeter than language and vague as a dream." (1/3.)
+
+These peculiarities are all the more astonishing in that they seem to be
+absolutely spontaneous and in nowise hereditary. What his parents were he
+himself has told us: small farmers, cultivating a little unprofitable land;
+poor "husbandmen, sowers of rye, cowherds"; and in the wretched
+surroundings of his childhood, when the only light, of an evening, came
+from a splinter of pine, steeped in resin, which was held by a strip of
+slate stuck into the wall; when his folk shut themselves in the byre, in
+times of severe cold, to save a little firewood and while away the
+evenings; when close at hand, through the bitter wind, they heard the
+howling of the wolves: here, it would seem, was nothing propitious to the
+birth of such tastes, if he had not borne them naturally within him.
+
+But is it not the very essence of genius, as it is the peculiarity of
+instinct, to spring from the depths of the invisible?
+
+Yet who shall say what stores of thought unspoken, what unknown treasures
+of observation never to be communicated, what patient reflections
+unuttered, may be housed in those toil-worn brains, in which, perhaps,
+slowly and obscurely, accumulate the germs of faculties and talents by
+which some more favoured descendant may one day benefit? How many poets
+have died unpublished or unperceived, in whom only the power of expression
+was lacking!
+
+When he was seven years old his parents recalled him to Saint-Léons, in
+order to send him to the school kept by his godfather, Pierre Ricard, the
+village schoolmaster, "at once barber, bellringer, and singer in the
+choir." Rembrandt, Teniers, nor Van Ostade never painted anything more
+picturesque than the room which served at the same time as kitchen,
+refectory, and bedroom, with "halfpenny prints papering the walls" and "a
+huge chimney, for which each had to bring his log of a morning in order to
+enjoy the right to a place at the fireside."
+
+He was never to forget these beloved places, blessed scenes of his
+childhood, amid which he grew up like a little savage, and through all his
+material sufferings, all his hours of bitterness, and even in the
+resignation of age, their idyllic memory sufficed to make his life
+fragrant. He would always see the humble paternal garden, the brook where
+he used to surprise the crayfish, the ash-tree in which he found his first
+goldfinch's nest, and "the flat stone on which he heard, for the first
+time, the mellow ringing of the bellringer frog." (1/4.) Later, when
+writing to his brother, he was to recall the good days of still careless
+life, when "he would sprawl, the sun on his belly, on the mosses of the
+wood of Vezins, eating his black bread and cream" or "ring the bells of
+Saint-Léons" and "pull the tails of the bulls of Lavaysse." (1/5.)
+
+For Henri had a brother, Frédéric, barely two years younger than he;
+equally meditative by nature, and of a serious, upright mind; but his
+tastes inclined rather to matters of administration and the understanding
+of business, so that where Frédéric was bored, Henri was more than content,
+thirstily drinking in science and poetry "among the blue campanulas of the
+hills, the pink heather of the mountains, the golden buttercups of the
+meadows, and the odorous bracken of the woods." (1/6.) Apart from this the
+two brothers "were one"; they understood one another in a marvellous
+fashion, and always loved one another. Henri never failed to watch over
+Frédéric with a wholly fatherly solicitude; he was prodigal of advice,
+helpful with his experience, doing his best to smooth away all
+difficulties, encouraging him to walk in his footsteps and make his way
+through the world behind him. He was his confidant, giving an ear to all
+that befell him of good or ill; to his fears, his disappointments, his
+hopes, and all his thoughts; and he took the keenest interest in his
+studies and researches. On the other hand, he had no more sure and devoted
+friend; none more proud of his first success, and in later days no more
+enthusiastic admirer, and none more eager for his fame. (1/7.)
+
+He was twelve years old when his father, "the first of all his line, was
+tempted by the town," and led all his family to Rodez, there to keep a
+café. The future naturalist entered the school of this town, where he
+served Mass on Sunday, in the chapel, in order to pay his fees. There again
+he was interested in the animal creation above all. When he began to
+construe Virgil the only thing that charmed him, and which he remembered,
+was the landscape in which the persons of the poem move, in which are so
+many "exquisite details concerning the cicada, the goat, and the laburnum."
+
+Thus four years went by: but then his parents were constrained to seek
+their fortune elsewhere, and transported their household to Toulouse, where
+again the father kept a café. The young Henri was admitted gratuitously to
+the seminary of the Esquille, where he managed to complete his fifth year.
+Unfortunately his progress was soon interrupted by a new exodus on the part
+of his family, which emigrated this time to Montpellier, where he was
+haunted for a time by dreams of medicine, to which he seemed notably
+adapted. Finally, a run of bad luck persisting, he had to bid farewell to
+his studies and gain his bread as best he could. We see him set out along
+the wide white roads: lost, almost a wanderer, seeking his living by the
+sweat of his brow; one day selling lemons at the fair of Beaucaire, under
+the arcades of the market or before the barracks of the Pré; another day
+enlisting in a gang of labourers who were working on the line from
+Beaucaire to Nîmes, which was then in process of construction. He knew
+gloomy days, lonely and despairing. What was he doing? of what was he
+dreaming? The love of nature and the passion for learning sustained him in
+spite of all, and often served him as nourishment; as on the day when he
+dined on a few grapes, plucked furtively at the edge of a field, after
+exchanging the poor remnant of his last halfpence for a little volume of
+Reboul's poems; soothing his hunger by reciting the verses of the gentle
+baker-poet. Often some creature kept him company; some insect never seen
+before was often his greatest pleasure; such as the pine-chafer, which he
+encountered then for the first time; that superb beetle, whose black or
+chestnut coat is sprinkled with specks of white velvet; which squeaks when
+captured, emitting a slight complaining sound, like the vibration of a pane
+of glass rubbed with the tip of a moistened finger. (1/8.)
+
+Already this young mind, romantic and classic at once, full of the ideal,
+and so positive that it seemed to seek support in an intense grasp of
+things and beings--two gifts well-nigh incompatible, and often mutually
+destructive--already it knew, not only the love of study and a passion for
+the truth, but the sovereign delight of feeling everything and
+understanding everything.
+
+It was under these conditions--that is, amid the rudest privations--that he
+ventured to enter a competitive examination for a bursary at the École
+Normale Primaire of Avignon; and his will-power realized this first miracle
+of his career--he straightway obtained the highest place.
+
+In those days, when education had barely reached the lower classes, the
+instruction given in the primary normal school was still of the most
+summary. Spelling, arithmetic, and geometry practically exhausted its
+resources. As for natural history, a poor despised science, almost unknown,
+no one dreamed of it, and no one learned or taught it; the syllabus ignored
+it, because it led to nothing. For Fabre only, notwithstanding, it was his
+fixed idea, his constant preoccupation, and "while the dictation class was
+busy around him, he would examine, in the secrecy of his desk, the sting of
+a wasp or the fruit of the oleander," and intoxicate himself with poetry.
+(1/9.) His pedagogic studies suffered thereby, and the first part of his
+stay at the normal school was by no means extremely brilliant. In the
+middle of his second year he was declared idle, and even marked as an
+insufficient pupil and of mediocre intelligence. Stung to the quick, he
+begged as a favour that he should be given the opportunity of following the
+third year's course in the six months that remained, and he made such an
+effort that at the end of the year he victoriously won his superior
+certificate. (1/10.)
+
+A year in advance of the regulation studies, his curiosity might now
+exercise itself freely in every direction, and little by little it became
+universal. A chance chemistry lesson finally awakened in him the appetite
+for knowledge, the passion for all the sciences, of which he thirsted to
+know at least the elements. Between whiles he returned to his Latin,
+translating Horace and re-reading Virgil. One day his director put an
+"Imitation" into his hands, with double columns in Greek and Latin. The
+latter, which he knew fairly well, assisted him to decipher the Greek. He
+hastened to commit to memory the vocables, and idioms and phrases of all
+kinds (1/11.), and in this curious fashion he learned the language. This
+was his only method of learning languages. It is the process which he
+recommended to his brother, who was commencing Latin:
+
+"Take Virgil, a dictionary, and a grammar, and translate from Latin into
+French for ever and for ever; to make a good version you need only common
+sense and very little grammatical knowledge or other pedantic accessories.
+
+"Imagine an old inscription half-effaced: correctness of judgment partly
+supplies the missing words, and the sense appears as if the whole were
+legible. Latin, for you, is the old inscription; the root of the word alone
+is legible: the veil of an unknown language hides the value of the
+termination: you have only the half of the words; but you have common sense
+too, and you will make use of it." (1/12.)
+
+
+CHAPTER 2. THE PRIMARY TEACHER.
+
+Furnished with his superior diploma, he left the normal school at the age
+of nineteen, and commenced as a primary teacher in the College of
+Carpentras.
+
+The salary of the school teacher, in the year 1842, did not exceed 28
+pounds sterling a year, and this ungrateful calling barely fed him, save on
+"chickpeas and a little wine." But we must beware lest, in view of the
+increasing and excessive dearness of living in France, the beggarly
+salaries of the poor schoolmasters of a former day, so little worthy of
+their labours and their social utility, appear even more disproportionately
+small than they actually were. What is more to the point, the teachers had
+no pension to hope for. They could only count on a perpetuity of labour,
+and when sickness or infirmity arrived, when old age surprised them, after
+fifty or sixty years of a narrow and precarious existence, it was not
+merely poverty that awaited them; for many there was nothing but the
+blackest destitution. A little later, when they began to entertain a vague
+hope of deliverance, the retiring pension which was held up to their gaze,
+in the distant future, was at first no more than forty francs, and they had
+to await the advent of Duruy, the great minister and liberator, before
+primary instruction was in some degree raised from this ignominious level
+of abasement.
+
+It was a melancholy place, this college, "where life had something
+cloistral about it: each master occupied two cells, for, in consideration
+of a modest payment, the majority were lodged in the establishment, and ate
+in common at the principal's table."
+
+It was a laborious life, full of distasteful and repugnant duties. We can
+readily imagine, with the aid of the striking picture which Fabre has drawn
+for us, what life was in these surroundings, and what the teaching was:
+"Between four high walls I see the court, a sort of bear-pit where the
+scholars quarrelled for the space beneath the boughs of a plane-tree; all
+around opened the class-rooms, oozing with damp and melancholy, like so
+many wild beasts' cages, deficient in light and air...for seats, a plank
+fixed to the wall...in the middle a chair, the rushes of the seat departed,
+a blackboard, and a stick of chalk." (2/1.)
+
+Let the teachers of our spacious and well-lighted schools of to-day ponder
+on these not so distant years, and measure the progress accomplished.
+Evoking the memory of their humble colleague of Carpentras, may they feel
+the true greatness of his example: a noble and a glorious example, of which
+they may well be proud.
+
+And what pupils! "Dirty, unmannerly: fifty young scoundrels, children or
+big lads, with whom," no doubt, "he used to squabble," but whom, after all,
+he contrived to manage, and by whom he was listened to and respected: for
+he knew precisely what to say to them, and how, while talking lightly, to
+teach them the most serious things. For the joy of teaching, and of
+continually learning by teaching others, made everything endurable. Not
+only did he teach them to read, write, and cipher, which then included
+almost the entire programme of primary education; he endeavoured also to
+place his own knowledge at their service, as he himself acquired it.
+
+It was not only his love of the work that sustained him; it was the desire
+to escape from the rut, to accomplish yet another stage; to emerge, in
+short, from so unsatisfactory a position. Now nothing but physical and
+mathematical science would allow him to entertain the hope of "making an
+opening" in the world of secondary schoolmasters. He accordingly began to
+study physics, quite alone, "with an impossible laboratory, experimenting
+after his own fashion"; and it was by teaching them to his pupils that he
+learned first of all chemistry, inexpensively performing little elementary
+experiments before them, "with pipe-bowls for crucibles and aniseed flasks
+for retorts," and finally algebra, of which he knew not a word before he
+gave his first lesson. (2/2.)
+
+How he studied, what was the secret of his method, he told his brother a
+few years later, when the latter, marking time behind him, was pursuing the
+same career. A very disappointing career, no doubt, and far from lucrative,
+but "one of the noblest; one of those best fitted for a noble spirit, and a
+lover of the good." (2/3.)
+
+Listen to the lesson which he gives his brother:
+
+"To-day is Thursday; nothing calls you out of doors; you choose a
+thoroughly quiet retreat, where the light is not too strong. There you are,
+elbows on table, your thumbs to your ears, and a book in front of you. The
+intelligence awakes; the will holds the reins of it; the outer world
+disappears, the ear no longer hears, the eye no longer sees, the body no
+longer exists; the mind schools itself, recollects itself; it is finding
+knowledge, and its insight increases. Then the hours pass quickly, quickly;
+time has no measure. Now it is evening. What a day, great God! But hosts of
+truths are grouped in the memory; the difficulties which checked you
+yesterday have fused in the fire of reflection; volumes have been devoured,
+and you are content with your day...
+
+"When something embarrasses you do not abuse the help of your colleagues;
+with assistance the difficulty is only evaded; with patience and reflection
+IT IS OVERTHROWN. Moreover, one knows thoroughly only what one learns
+oneself; and I advise you earnestly, as far as possible, to have recourse
+to no aid other than reflection, above all for the sciences. A book of
+science is an enigma to be deciphered; if some one gives you the key of the
+enigma nothing appears more simple and more natural than the explanation,
+but if a second enigma presents itself you will be as unskilful as you were
+with the first...
+
+"It is probable that you will get the chance of a few lessons; do not by
+preference accept the easier and more lucrative, but rather the more
+difficult, even when the subject is one of which as yet you know nothing.
+The self-esteem which will not allow one's true character to be seen is a
+powerful aid to the will. Do not forget the method of Jules Janin, running
+from house to house in Paris for a few wretched lessons in Latin: 'Unable
+to get anything out of my stupid pupils, with the besotted son of the
+marquis I was simultaneously pupil and professor: I explained the ancient
+authors to myself, and so, in a few months, I went through an excellent
+course of rhetoric...'
+
+"Above all you must not be discouraged; time is nothing provided the will
+is always alert, always active, and never distracted; 'strength will come
+as you travel.'
+
+"Try only for a few days this method of working, in which the whole energy,
+concentrated on one point, explodes like a mine and shatters obstacles; try
+for a few days the force of patience, strength, and perseverance; and you
+will see that nothing is impossible!" (2/4.)
+
+These serious reflections show very clearly that his mind was already as
+mature, as earnest, and as concentrated as it was ever to be.
+
+Not only did he join example to precept; he looked about him and began to
+observe nature in her own house. The doings of the Mason-bee, which he
+encountered for the first time, aroused his interest to such a pitch that,
+being no longer able to constrain his curiosity, he bought--at the cost of
+what privations!--Blanchard's "Natural History of the Articulata," then a
+classic work, which he was to re-read a hundred times, and which he still
+retains, giving it the first place in his modest library, in memory of his
+early joys and emotions.
+
+The rocks also arrested and captivated his attention: and already the first
+volumes were corpulent of what was eventually to become his gigantic
+herbiary. His brother, about to leave for Vezins on vacation, was told of
+the specimens which he wanted to complete his collection; for although he
+had never set foot there since his first departure, he recalled, with
+remarkable precision, all the plants that grew in his native countryside;
+their haunts, their singularities, and the characteristics by which one
+could not fail to recognize them: as well as all the places which they
+chose by preference, where he used to wander as an urchin; the Parnassia
+palustris, "which springs up in the damp meadows, below the beech-wood to
+the west of the village; which bears a superb white flower at the top of a
+slightly twisted stem, having an oval leaf about its middle"; the purple
+digitalis, "whose long spindles of great red flowers, speckled with white
+inside, and shaped like the fingers of a glove," border a certain road; all
+the ferns that grow on the wastes, "amid which it is often no easy task to
+recollect one's whereabouts," and on the arid hills all the heathers, pink,
+white, and bluish, with different foliage, "of which the innumerable
+species do not, however, very greatly differ." Nothing is to be neglected;
+"every plant, whatever it may be, great or little, rare or common, were it
+only a frond of moss, may have its interest." (2/5.)
+
+Never weary of work, he accumulated all these treasures in his little
+museum, in order to study them the better; he collected all the coins
+exhumed from this ancient soil, formerly Roman, "records of humanity more
+eloquent than books," and which revealed to him the only method of learning
+and actually re-living history: for he saw in knowledge not merely a means
+of gaining his bread, but "something nobler; the means of raising the
+spirit in the contemplation of the truth, of isolating it at will from the
+miseries of reality, so to find, in these intellectual regions, the only
+hours of happiness that we may be permitted to taste." (2/6.)
+
+Fabre was so steeped in this passion for knowledge that he wished to evoke
+it in his brother, now teacher at Lapalud, on the Rhône, not far from
+Orange. It seemed to him that he would delight in his wealth still better
+could he share it with another. (2/7.) He stimulated him, pricked him on,
+and sought to encourage the remarkable aptitude for mathematics with which
+he believed him endowed. He employed his whole strength in breathing into
+the other's mind "that taste for the true and the beautiful" which
+possessed his own nature; he wished to share with him those stores of
+learning "which he had for some years so painfully amassed"; he would
+profit by the vacation to place them at his disposal; they would work
+together "and the light would come." Above all his brother must not allow
+his intelligence to slumber, must beware of "extinguishing that divine
+light without which one can, it is true, attend to one's business, but
+which alone can make a man honourable and respected."
+
+Let him, on the contrary, cultivate his mind incessantly, "the only
+patrimony on which either of us can count"; the reward would be his moral
+well-being, and, he hoped, his physical welfare also.
+
+Once more he reinforced his advice by that excellent counsel which was
+always his own lodestar:
+
+"Science, Frédéric, knowledge is everything...You are too good a thinker
+not to say with me that no one can better employ his time than by acquiring
+fresh knowledge...Work, then, when you have the opportunity...an
+opportunity that very few may possess, and for which you ought to be only
+too thankful. But I will stop, for I feel my enthusiasm is going to my
+head, and my reasons are so good already that I have no need of still more
+triumphant reasons to convince you." (2/8.)
+
+He had only one passion: shooting; more especially the shooting of larks.
+This sport delighted him, "with the mirror darting its intermittent beams
+under the rays of the morning sun amid the general scintillation of the
+dewdrops and crystals of hoarfrost hanging on every blade of grass." (2/9.)
+
+His sight was admirably sure, and he rarely missed his aim. His passion for
+shooting was always sustained by the same motive: the desire to acquire
+fresh knowledge; to examine unknown creatures close at hand; to discover
+what they ate and how they lived.
+
+Later, when he again took up his gun, it was still because of his love of
+life: it was to enable him to enumerate, inventory, and interrogate his new
+compatriots, his feathered fellow-citizens of Sérignan; to inform himself
+of their diet, to reveal the contents of their crops and gizzards.
+
+At one time he suddenly ceased to employ this distraction; he seems to have
+sacrificed it easily, under the stress of present necessities and cruel
+anxieties as to his uncertain future. "When we do not know where we shall
+be tomorrow nothing can distract us." (2/10.)
+
+His responsibilities were increasing. He had lately married. On the 30th
+October, 1844, he was wedded to a young girl of Carpentras, Marie Villard,
+and already a child was born. His parents, always unlucky, met nowhere with
+any success. By dint of many wanderings they had finally become stranded at
+Pierrelatte, the chief town of the canton of La Drôme, sheltered by the
+great rock which has given the place its name; and there again, of course,
+they kept a café, situated on the Place d'Armes.
+
+The whole family was now assembled in the same district, a few miles only
+one from another: but Henri was really its head. Having heard that a
+quarrel had arisen between his brother and his mother, he wrote to Frédéric
+in reprimand; gently scolding him and begging him to set matters right,
+"even if all the wrongs were not on his side."
+
+"My father, in one of his letters, complains that in spite of your nearness
+you have not yet been to see them. I know very well there is some reason
+for sulking; but what matter? Give it up: forget everything; do your best
+to put an end to all these petty and ugly estrangements. You will do so,
+won't you? I count on it, for the happiness of all." (2/11.)
+
+He was their arbitrator, their adviser, their oracle, their bond of union.
+
+With all this, he was ready to attempt the two examinations which were to
+decide his future. Very shortly, at Montpellier, he passed almost
+successively, at an interval of only a few months the examinations for both
+his baccalauréats; and then the two licentiate examinations in mathematics
+and physical science.
+
+While he was ardently studying for these examinations, sorrow for the first
+time knocked at his door. His first-born fell suddenly ill, and in a few
+days died. On this occasion all his ardent spirituality asserted itself,
+though in stricken accents, in the letter which he wrote to his brother to
+announce his loss:
+
+"After a few days of a marked improvement, which made me think he was
+saved, two large teeth were cut...and in three days a dreadful fever took
+him, not from us, who will follow him, but from this miserable world. Ah,
+poor child, I shall always see you as you were during those last moments,
+turning those wide, wandering eyes toward heaven, seeking the way to your
+new country. With a heart full of tears, I shall often let my thoughts go
+straying after you; but alas! with the eyes of the body I shall never see
+you again. I shall see you no more: yet only a few days ago I was making
+the finest plans for you. I used to work for you only; in my studies I
+thought only of you. Grow up, I used to say, and I will pour into your mind
+all the knowledge which has cost me so dear, which I am hoarding little by
+little...But reflection leads me to higher thoughts. I choke back the tears
+in my heart, and I congratulate him that Heaven has mercifully spared him
+this life of trials...My poor child...you will never, like your father,
+have to struggle against poverty and misfortune; you will never know the
+bitterness of life, and the difficulties of creating a position at a time
+when there are so many paths that lead to failure...I weep for you because
+we have lost you, but I rejoice because you are happy...You are happy, and
+this is not the mad hope of a father broken by sorrow; no, your last glance
+told me so, too eloquently for me to doubt it. Oh, how beautiful you were
+in your mortal pallor; the last sigh on your lips, your gaze upon heaven,
+and your soul ready to fly into the bosom of God! Your last day was the
+most beautiful!" (2/12.)
+
+Although study was his refuge, although he was thereby able to live through
+these evil days without too greatly feeling their weight, his position was
+hateful, and he lived a wretched life "from one day to another, like a
+beggar."
+
+In those troublous times, when education was of no account, it often
+happened that his teacher's salary was several months in arrears, and the
+city of Carpentras, "not being in funds," paid it only by instalments, and
+even so kept him a long time waiting. "One has to besiege the paymaster's
+door merely to obtain a trifle on account. I am ashamed of the whole
+business, and I would gladly abandon my claim if I knew where to raise any
+money." (2/13.)
+
+The genius of Balzac has recorded some unforgettable types of those poor
+and notable lives, at once so humble and so lofty. He has described the
+village curé and the country doctor. But how we should have loved to
+encounter in his gallery, among so many living portraits, a picture of the
+university life of fifty years ago; and above all a picture of the small
+schoolmaster of other days, living a life so narrow, so slavish, so
+painful, and yet so full of worth, so imbued with the sense of duty, and
+withal so resigned; a portrait for which Fabre might have served as model
+and prototype, and for which he himself has drawn an unforgettable sketch.
+
+He awaited impatiently the news of his removal, very modestly limiting his
+ambitions to the hope of entering some lycée as professor of the sciences.
+His rector was not unnaturally astonished that a young man of such unusual
+worth, already twice a licentiate, should be so little appreciated by those
+in high places and allowed to stagnate so long in an inferior post, and one
+unworthy of him.
+
+In the end, however, after much patient waiting, he became indignant; as
+always, he could see nothing ahead. The chair of mathematics at Tournon
+escaped him. Another position, at Avignon, also "slipped through his
+fingers"; why or how he never knew. He "began to see clearly what life is,
+and how difficult it is to make one's mark amid all this army of schemers,
+beggars and imbeciles who besiege every vacant post."
+
+But his heart was "none the less hot with indignation"; he had had enough
+of "Carpentras, that accursed little hole"; and when the vacations came
+round once more he "plainly considered the question" and declared "that he
+would never again set foot inside a communal school." (2/14.)
+
+He wrote to the rector: "If instead of crushing me into the narrow round of
+a primary school they would give me some employment of the kind for which
+my studies and ideas fit me, they would know then what is hatching in my
+head and what untirable activity there is in me." (2/15.)
+
+He resigned himself nevertheless; he cursed and swore and stormed at his
+fate; but he had once more to put up with it "for want of a better." All
+the same "the injustice was too unheard-of, and no one had ever seen or
+would ever see the like: to give him two licentiate's diplomas, and to make
+him conjugate verbs for a pack of brats! It was too much!" (2/16.)
+
+
+CHAPTER 3. CORSICA.
+
+At last the chair of physics fell vacant at the college of Ajaccio, the
+salary being 72 pounds sterling, and he left for Corsica. His stay there
+was well calculated to impress him. There the intense impressionability
+which the little peasant of Aveyron received at birth could only be
+confirmed and increased. He felt that this superb and luxuriant nature was
+made for him, and that he was born for it; to understand and interpret it.
+He would lose himself in a delicious intoxication, amid the deep woodlands,
+the mountains rich with scented flowers, wandering through the maquis, the
+myrtle scrub, through jungles of lentisk and arbutus; barely containing his
+emotion when he passed beneath the great secular chestnut-trees of
+Bastelica, with their enormous trunks and leafy boughs, whose sombre
+majesty inspired in him a sort of melancholy at once poetic and religious.
+Before the sea, with its infinite distances, he lingered in ecstasy,
+listening to the song of the waves, and gathering the marvellous shells
+which the snow-white breakers left upon the beach, and whose unfamiliar
+forms filled him with delight.
+
+He was soon so accustomed to his new life in peaceful Ajaccio, whose
+surroundings, decked in eternal verdure, are so captivating and so
+beautiful, that in spite of a vague desire for change he now dreaded to
+leave it. He never wearied of admiring and exalting the beautiful and
+majestic aspects of his new home. How he longed to share his enthusiasm
+with his father or his brother, as he rambled through the neighbouring
+maquis!
+
+"The infinite, glittering sea at my feet, the dreadful masses of granite
+overhead, the white, dainty town seated beside the water, the endless
+jungles of myrtle, which yield intoxicating perfumes, the wastes of
+brushwood which the ploughshare has never turned, which cover the mountains
+from base to summit; the fishing-boats that plough the gulf: all this forms
+a prospect so magnificent, so striking, that whosoever has beheld it must
+always long to see it again." (3/1.)
+
+"What is their rock of Pierrelatte, that enormous block of stone which
+overhangs the place where they dwell, a reef which rises from the surface
+of the ancient sea of alluvium, compared with these blocks of uprooted
+granite which lie upon the hillsides here?"
+
+And what were the Aubrac hills which traversed his native country; what was
+the Ventoux even, that famous Alp, "beside the peaks which rise about the
+gulf of Ajaccio, always crowned with clouds and whitened with snow, even
+when the soil of the plains is scorching and rings like a fired brick?"
+
+Time did nothing to abate these first impressions, and after more than a
+year on the island he was still full of wonder "at the sight of these
+granite crests, corroded by the severities of the climate, jagged,
+overthrown by the lightning, shattered by the slow but sure action of the
+snows, and these vertiginous gulfs through which the four winds of heaven
+go roaring; these vast inclined planes on which snow-drifts form thirty,
+sixty, and ninety feet in depth, and across which flow winding watercourses
+which go to fill, drop by drop, the yawning craters, there to form lakes,
+black as ink when seen in the shadow, but blue as heaven in the light...
+
+"But it would be impossible for me to give you the least idea of this dizzy
+spectacle, this chaos of rocks, heaped in frightful disorder. When, closing
+my eyes, I contemplate these results of the convulsion of the soil in my
+mind's eye, when I hear the screaming of the eagles, which go wheeling
+through the bottomless abysses, whose inky shadows the eye dares hardly
+plumb, vertigo seizes me, and I open my eyes to reassure myself by the
+reality."
+
+And he sends with his letter a few leaves of the snow immortelle--the
+edelweiss--plucked on the highest summits, amid the eternal snows; "you
+will put this in some book, and when, as you turn the leaves, the
+immortelle meets your eyes, it will give you an excuse for dreaming of the
+beautiful horrors of its native place." (3/2.)
+
+What a misfortune for him, what regret he would feel, "if he had now to go
+to some trivial country of plains, where he would die of boredom!"
+
+For him everything was unfamiliar: not only the flora, but the maritime
+wealth of this singular country. He would set out of a morning, visiting
+the coves and creeks, roving along the beaches of this magnificent gulf, a
+lump of bread in his pocket, quenching his thirst with sea-water in default
+of fresh!
+
+They were mornings full of rosy illusions, whose smiling hopes were
+revealed in his admirable letters to his brother. Already he meditated a
+conchology of Corsica, a colossal history of all the molluscs which live
+upon its soil or in its waters. (3/3.) He collected all the shells he could
+procure. He analysed, described, classed, and co-ordinated not only the
+marine species, but the terrestrial and freshwater shells also, extant or
+fossil. He asked his brother to collect for him all the shells he could
+find in the marshes of Lapalud, in the brooks and ditches of the
+neighbourhood of Orange. In his enthusiasm he tried to convince him of the
+immense interest of these researches, which might perhaps seem ridiculous
+or futile to him; but let him only think of geology; the humblest shell
+picked up might throw a sudden light upon the formation of this or that
+stratum. None are to be disdained: for men have considered, with reason,
+that they were honouring the memory of their eminent fellows by giving
+their names to the rarest and most beautiful. Witness the magnificent Helix
+dedicated to Raspail, which is found only in the caverns where the
+strawberry-tree grows amid the high mountains of Corsica. (3/4.)
+
+Moreover, he said, "the infinitesimal calculus of Leibnitz will show you
+that the architecture of the Louvre is less learned than that of a snail:
+the eternal geometer has unrolled his transcendent spirals on the shell of
+the mollusc that you, like the vulgar profane, know only seasoned with
+spinach and Dutch cheese." (3/5.)
+
+For all that, he did not neglect his mathematics, in which, on the
+contrary, he found abundant and suggestive recreation. The properties of a
+figure or a curve which he had newly discovered prevented his sleep for
+several nights.
+
+"All this morning I have been busy with star-shaped polygons, and have
+proceeded from surprise to surprise...perceiving in the distance, as I
+advanced, unforeseen and marvellous consequences."
+
+Here, among others, is one question which suddenly presented itself to his
+mind "in the midst of the spikes" of his polygons: what would be the period
+of the rotation of the sun on its own centre if its atmosphere reached as
+far as the earth? And this question gave rise to another, "without which
+the sequence stops then and there; number, space, movement, and order form
+a single chain, the first link of which sets all the rest in motion."
+(3/6.) And the hours went by quickly, so quickly with "x," the plants and
+the shells, that "literally there was no time to eat."
+
+For Fabre was born a poet, and mathematics borders upon poetry; he saw in
+algebra "the most magnificent flights," and the figures of analytical
+geometry unrolled themselves in his imagination "in superb strophes"; the
+Ellipse, "the trajectory of the planets, with its two related foci, sending
+from one to the other a constant sum of vector radii"; the Hyperbole, "with
+repulsive foci, the desperate curve which plunges into space in infinite
+tentacles, approaching closer and closer to a straight line, the asymptote,
+without ever finally attaining it"; the Parabola, "which seeks fruitlessly
+in the infinite for its second, lost centre: it is the trajectory of the
+bomb: it is the path of certain comets which come one day to visit our sun,
+then flee into the depths whence they never return." (3/7.)
+
+And one fine morning we behold him mounting, thrilled by a lyric passion,
+to the lofty regions in which Number, "irresistible, omnipotent, keystone
+of the vault of the universe, rules at once Time and Space." He ascends, he
+rushes forward, farther than the chariot--
+
+"Beyond the Husbandman who ploughs in space
+And sows the suns in furrows of the skies."
+
+He ascends those tracks of flame, where on high
+
+ "in those lists inane
+Wise regulator, Number holds the reins
+ Of those indomitable steeds;
+Number has set a bit i' the foaming mouths
+Of these Leviathans, and with nervous hand
+ Controls them in their tracks;
+
+Their smoking flanks beneath the yoke in vain
+Quiver; their nostrils vainly void as foam
+Dense tides of lava; and in vain they rear;
+For Number on their mettled haunches poised
+Holds them, or duly with the rein controls,
+Or in their flanks buries his spur divine." (3/8.)
+
+Later he confessed all that he owed, as a writer, to geometry, whose severe
+discipline forms and exercises the mind, gives it the salutary habit of
+precision and lucidity, and puts it on its guard against terms which are
+incorrect or unduly vague, giving it qualities far superior to all the
+"tropes of rhetoric."
+
+It was then that he became the pupil of Requien of Avignon, the retired
+botanist, a lofty but somewhat limited mind, who was hardly capable of
+opening up other horizons to him. But Requien did at least enrich his
+memory by a prodigious quantity of names of plants with which he had not
+been acquainted. He revealed to him the immense flora of Corsica, which he
+himself had come to study, and for which Fabre was to gather such a vast
+amount of material.
+
+Fabre found in Requien more especially a friend "proof against anything";
+and when the latter died almost suddenly at Bonifacio, Fabre was
+overwhelmed by the sad news. On that very day he had on the table before
+him a parcel of plants gathered for the dead botanist. "I cannot let my
+eyes rest upon it," he wrote at the time, "without feeling my heart wrung
+and my sight dim with tears." (3/9.)
+
+But the most admirably fruitful encounter, as it exercised the profoundest
+influence upon his destiny, was his meeting with Moquin-Tandon, a Toulouse
+professor who followed Requien to Corsica, to complete the work which the
+latter had left unfinished: the complete inventory of the prodigious wealth
+of vegetation, of the innumerable species and varieties which Fabre and he
+collected together, on the slopes and summits of Monte Renoso, often
+botanizing "up in the clouds, mantle on back and numb with cold." (3/10.)
+
+Moquin-Tandon was not merely a skilful naturalist; he was one of the most
+eloquent and scholarly scientists of his time. Fabre owed to him, not his
+genius, to be sure, but the definite indication of the path he was finally
+to take, and from which he was never again to stray.
+
+Moquin-Tandon, a brilliant writer and "an ingenious poet in his
+Montpellerian dialect," (3/11.) taught Fabre never to forget the value of
+style and the importance of form, even in the exposition of a purely
+descriptive science such as botany. He did even more, by one day suddenly
+showing Fabre, between the fruit and the cheese, "in a plate of water," the
+anatomy of the snail. This was his first introduction to his true destiny
+before the final revelation of which I shall presently speak. Fabre
+understood then and there that he could do decidedly better than to stick
+to mathematics, though his whole career would feel the effects of that
+study.
+
+"Geometers are made; naturalists are born ready-made," he wrote to his
+brother, still excited by this incident, "and you know better than any one
+whether natural history is not my favourite science." (3/12.)
+
+>From that time forward he began to collect not only dead, inert, or
+dessicated forms, mere material for study, with the aim of satisfying his
+curiosity; he began to dissect with ardour, a thing he had never done
+before. He housed his tiny guests in his cupboard; and occupied himself, as
+he was always to do in the future, with the smaller living creatures only.
+
+"I am dissecting the infinitely little; my scalpels are tiny daggers which
+I make myself out of fine needles; my marble slab is the bottom of a
+saucer; my prisoners are lodged by the dozen in old match-boxes; maxime
+miranda in minimis." (3/13.)
+
+Roaming at night along the marshy beaches, he contracted fever, and several
+terrible attacks, accompanied by alarming tremors, left him so bloodless
+and feeble that, much against his will, he had to beg for relief, and even
+insist upon his prompt return to the mainland. in the meantime he obtained
+sick-leave, and returned to Provence after a terrible crossing which lasted
+no less than three days and two nights, on a sea so furious that he gave
+himself up for lost. (3/14.)
+
+Slowly he recovered his health, and after a second but brief stay at
+Ajaccio he received the news of his appointment to the lycée of Avignon.
+(3/15.)
+
+He returned with his imagination enriched and his mind expanded, with
+settled ideas, and thoroughly ripe for his task.
+
+
+CHAPTER 4. AT AVIGNON.
+
+The resolute worker resumed his indefatigable labours with an ardour
+greater than ever, for now he was haunted by a noble ambition, that of
+becoming a teacher of the superior grade, and of "talking plants and
+animals" in a chair of the faculty. With this end in view he added to his
+two diplomas--those of mathematics and physics--a third certificate, that
+of natural sciences. His success was triumphant.
+
+Already tenacious and fearless in affirming what he believed to be the
+truth, he astonished and bewildered the professors of Toulouse. Among the
+subjects touched upon by the examiners was the famous question of
+spontaneous generation, which was then so vital, and which gave rise to so
+many impassioned discussions. The examiner, as it chanced, was one of the
+leading apostles of this doctrine. The future adversary of Darwin, at the
+risk of failure, did not scruple to argue with him, and to put forward his
+personal convictions and his own arguments. He decided the vexed question
+in his own way, on his own responsibility. A personality already so
+striking was regarded with admiration; a candidate so far out of the
+ordinary was welcomed with enthusiasm, and but for the insufficiency of the
+budget which so scantily met the needs of public instruction his
+examination fees would have been returned. (4/1.)
+
+Why, after this brilliant success, was Fabre not tempted to enter himself
+for a fellowship, which would later in his career have averted so many
+disappointments? It was doubtless because he felt, obscurely, that his
+ideal future lay along other lines, and that he would have been taking a
+wrong turning. Despite all the solicitations which were addressed to him he
+would think of nothing but "his beloved studies in natural history" (4/2.);
+he feared to lose precious time in preparing himself for a competitive
+examination; "to compromise by such labour, which he felt would be
+fruitless" (4/3.), the studies which he had already commenced, and the
+inquiries already carried out in Corsica. He was busy with his first
+original labours, the theses which he was preparing with a view to his
+doctorate in natural science, "which might one day open the doors of a
+faculty for him, far more easily than would a fellowship and its
+mathematics." (4/4.)
+
+At heart he was utterly careless of dignities and degrees. He worked only
+to learn, not to attain and follow up a settled calling. What he hoped
+above all was to succeed in devoting all his leisure to those marvellous
+natural sciences in which he could vaguely foresee studies full of
+interest; something animated and vital; a thousand fascinating themes, and
+an atmosphere of poetry.
+
+His genius, as yet invisible, was ripening in obscurity, but was ready to
+come forth; he lacked only the propitious circumstance which would allow
+him to unfold his wings.
+
+He was seeking them in vain when a volume by Léon Dufour, the famous
+entomologist, who then lived in the depths of the Landes, fell by chance
+into his hands, and lit the first spark of that beacon which was presently
+to decide the definite trend of his ideas.
+
+It was this incident which then and there developed the germs already
+latent within him. These had only awaited such an occasion as that which so
+fortunately came to pass one evening of the winter of 1854.
+
+Fabre offers yet another example of the part so often played by chance in
+the manifestations of talent. How many have suddenly felt the unexpected
+awakening of gifts which they did not suspect, as a result of some unusual
+circumstance!
+
+Was it not simply as a result of having read a note by the Russian chemist
+Mitscherlich on the comparison of the specific characteristics of certain
+crystals that Pasteur so enthusiastically took up his researches into
+molecular asymmetry which were the starting-point of so many wonderful
+discoveries?
+
+Again, we need only recall the case of Brother Huber, the celebrated
+observer of the bee, who, having out of simple curiosity undertaken to
+verify certain experiments of Réaumur's, was so completely and immediately
+fascinated by the subject that it became the object of the rest of his
+life.
+
+Again, we may ask what Claude Bernard would have been had he not met
+Magendie? Similarly Léon Dufour's little work was to Fabre the road to
+Damascus, the electric impulse which decided his vocation.
+
+It dealt with a very singular fact concerning the manners of one of the
+hymenoptera, a wasp, a Cerceris, in whose nest Dufour had found small
+coleoptera of the genus Buprestis, which, under all the appearances of
+death, retained intact for an incredible time their sumptuous costume,
+gleaming with gold, copper, and emerald, while the tissues remained
+perfectly fresh. In a word, the victims of Cerceris, far from being
+desiccated or putrefied, were found in a state of integrity which was
+altogether paradoxical.
+
+Dufour merely believed that the Buprestes were dead, and he gave an
+attempted explanation of the phenomenon.
+
+Fabre, his curiosity and interest aroused, wished to observe the facts for
+himself; and, to his great surprise, he discovered how incomplete and
+insufficiently verified were the observations of the man who was at that
+time known as "the patriarch of entomologists."
+
+>From that moment he saw his way ahead; he suspected that there was still
+much to discover and much to revise in this vast department of nature, and
+conceived the idea of resuming the work so splendidly outlined by Réaumur
+and the two Hubers, but almost completely neglected since the days of those
+illustrious masters. He divined that here were fresh pastures, a vast
+unexplored country to be opened up, an entire unimagined science to be
+founded, wonderful secrets to be discovered, magnificent problems to be
+solved, and he dreamed of consecrating himself unreservedly, of employing
+his whole life in the pursuit of this object; that long life whose fruitful
+activity was to extend over nearly ninety years, and which was to be so
+"representative" by the dignity of the man, the probity of the expert, the
+genius of the observer, and the originality of the writer.
+
+The year 1855 saw the first appearance, in the "Annales des sciences
+naturelles," of the famous memoir which marked the beginning of his fame:
+the history, which might well be called marvellous and incredible, of the
+great Cerceris, a giant wasp and "the finest of the Hymenoptera which hunt
+for booty at the foot of Mont Ventoux." (4/5.)
+
+Fabre was now thirty-two years old, and his situation as assistant-
+professor of physics was somewhat precarious. From the 72 pounds sterling
+which he drew at Ajaccio, an overseas post, his salary was reduced, on his
+return to the mainland, to 64 pounds sterling, and during the whole of his
+stay at Avignon he obtained neither promotion nor the smallest increase of
+pay, excepting a few additional profits which were unconnected with his
+habitual duties. When he left the university after twenty well-filled
+years, he left as he had entered, with the same title, rank, and salary of
+a mere assistant-professor.
+
+Yet all about him "everywhere and for every one, all was black indeed": his
+family had increased and therewith his expenses; there were now seven at
+table every day. Very shortly his modest salary would no longer suffice; he
+was obliged to supplement it by all sorts of hack-work--classes,
+"repetitions," private lessons; tasks which repelled him, for they absorbed
+all his available time; they prevented him from giving himself up to his
+favourite studies, to his silent and solitary observations. Nevertheless,
+he acquitted himself of these duties patiently and conscientiously, for at
+heart he loved his profession, and was rather a fellow-disciple than a
+master to his pupils. For this reason all those about him worked with
+praiseworthy assiduity; even the worst elements, the black sheep, the "bad
+eggs" of other classes, with him were suddenly transformed and as attentive
+as the rest. Although he knew how to keep order, how to make himself
+respected, and could on occasion deal severely and speak sternly, so that
+very few dared to forget themselves before him, he knew also how to be
+merry with his pupils, chatting with them familiarly, putting himself in
+their place, entering into their ideas, and making himself their rival. If
+life was laborious under his ferula, it was also merry. The best proof of
+this is the fact that of all his colleagues at the lycée he was the only
+one who had no nickname, a rarity in scholastic annals.
+
+He did not therefore object to these lessons; but while at Carpentras he
+was made much of and praised by the principal, was a general favourite, and
+had perfect liberty to follow his inspiration during his partly gratuitous
+classes, here the hours and the programme tied him down, which was
+precisely what he found insupportable.
+
+Everything made things difficult for him here: his external self; his
+character, ever so little shy and unsocial; his temperament, which was made
+for solitude.
+
+In the thick of this hierarchical society of university professors he
+remained independent; he knew nothing of what was said or what was
+happening in the college, and his colleagues were always better informed
+than he. (4/6.) As he was not a fellow, he was made to feel the fact and
+was treated as a subordinate; the others, who prided themselves on the
+title, and who were incapable of recognizing his merit, which was a little
+beyond them, were jealous of him, all the more inasmuch as his name was
+momentarily noised abroad, and they revenged themselves by calling him "the
+fly" among themselves, by way of allusion to his favourite subject. (4/7.)
+
+Indifferent to distinctions, as well as to those who bore them,
+contemptuous of etiquette, and incapable of putting constraint upon his
+nature, he remained an "outsider," and refused to comply with a host of
+factitious or worldly obligations which he regarded as useless or
+disgusting. Thus even at Ajaccio he managed to escape the customary
+ceremonies of New Year's Day.
+
+"Good society I avoid as much as possible; I prefer my own company. So I
+have seen no one; I did not respond to the principal's invitation to make
+the official round of visits." (4/8.)
+
+When obliged to accept some invitation, apart from occasions of too great
+solemnity, when he was really constrained to dress himself in the complete
+livery of circumstance and ceremony, he remained faithful to his black felt
+hat, which made a blot among all the carefully polished "toppers" of his
+colleagues. He was called to order; he was reprimanded; he obeyed
+unwillingly, or worse, he resisted; he revolted, and threatened to send in
+his resignation. To pay court to people, to endeavour to make himself
+pleasant, to grovel before a superior, were to him impossibilities. He
+could neither solicit, nor sail with the wind, nor force himself on others,
+nor even make use of his relations.
+
+However, when he went to Paris to take his doctor's degree in natural
+sciences, he did not forget Moquin-Tandon, who had formerly, in Corsica,
+revealed to him the nature of biology, and whom he himself had received and
+entertained in his humble home.
+
+The ex-professor of Toulouse, who was now eminent in his speciality,
+occupied the chair of natural history in the faculty of medicine in Paris.
+What better occasion could he wish of introducing himself to a highly
+placed official? Fabre had formerly been his host; he could recall the
+happy hours they had spent together; he could explain his plans, and ask
+for the professor's assistance! Fate pointed to him as a protector. But if
+Fabre had been capable of climbing the professor's stairs with some such
+ambitious desires, he would quickly have been disabused.
+
+The "dear master" had long ago forgotten the little professor of Ajaccio,
+and his welcome was by no means such as Fabre had the right to expect. Far
+from insisting, he was disheartened, perhaps a little humiliated, and
+hastened to take his leave.
+
+The theses which Fabre brought with him, and which, he had thought, ought
+to lead him one day to a university professorship, did not, as a matter of
+fact, contain anything very essentially original.
+
+He had been attracted, indeed fascinated, by all the singularities
+presented by the strange family of the orchids; the asymmetry of their
+blossoms, the unusual structure of their pollen, and their innumerable
+seeds; but as for the curious rounded and duplicated tubercles which many
+of them bore at their base, what precisely were they? The greatest
+botanists--de Candolle, A. de Jussieu--had perceived in them nothing more
+than roots. Fabre demonstrated in his thesis that these singular organs are
+in reality merely buds, true branches or shoots, modified and disguised,
+analogous to the metamorphosed tubercle of the potato. (4/9.)
+
+He added also a curious memoir on the phosphorescence of the agaric of the
+olive-tree, a phenomenon to which he was to return at a later date.
+
+In the field of zoology his scalpel revealed the complicated structure of
+the reproductive organs of the Centipedes (Millepedes), hitherto so
+confused and misunderstood; as also certain peculiarities of the
+development of these curious creatures, so interesting from the point of
+view of the zoological philosopher (4/10.), for he had become expert in
+handling not only the magnifying glass, which was always with him, but also
+the microscope, which discovers so many infinite wonders in the lowest
+creatures, yet which was not of particular service in any of the beautiful
+observations upon which his fame is built.
+
+Returning to Avignon, in the possession of his new degree, he commenced an
+important task which took him nearly twenty years to complete: a
+painstaking treatise on the Sphaeriaceae of Vaucluse, that singular family
+of fungi which cover fallen leaves and dead twigs with their blackish
+fructifications; a remarkable piece of work, full of the most valuable
+documentation, as were the theses whose subjects I have just detailed; but
+without belittling the fame of their author, one may say that another, in
+his place, might have acquitted himself as well.
+
+Although he continued to undertake researches of limited interest and
+importance, although he persisted in dissecting plants, and, although he
+disliked it, in "disembowelling animals," the fact was that apart from
+Thursdays and Sundays it was scarcely possible for him to escape from his
+week's work; hardly possible to snatch sufficient leisure to undertake the
+studies toward which he felt himself more particularly drawn. Tied down by
+his duties, which held him bound to a discipline that only left him brief
+moments, and by the forced hack-work imposed upon him by the necessity of
+earning his daily bread, he had scarcely any time for observation excepting
+vacations and holidays.
+
+Then he would hasten to Carpentras, happy to hold the key to the meadows,
+and wander across country and along the sunken lanes, collecting his
+beautiful insects, breathing the free air, the scent of the vines and
+olives, and gazing upon Mont Ventoux, close at hand, whose silver summit
+would now be hidden in the clouds and now would glitter in the rays of the
+sun.
+
+Carpentras was not merely the country in which his wife's parents dwelt: it
+was, above all, a unique and privileged home for insects; not on account of
+its flora, but because of the soil, a kind of limestone mingled with sand
+and clay, a soft marl, in which the burrowing hymenoptera could easily
+establish their burrows and their nests. Certain of them, indeed, lived
+only there, or at least it would have been extremely difficult to find them
+elsewhere; such was the famous Cerceris; such again, was the yellow-winged
+Sphex, that other wasp which so artistically stabs and paralyses the
+cricket, "the brown violinist of the clods."
+
+At Carpentras too the Anthophorae lived in abundance; those wild bees with
+whom the vexed and enigmatic history of the Sitaris and the Meloë is bound
+up; those little beetles, cousins of the Cantharides, whose complex
+metamorphoses and astonishing and peculiar habits have been revealed by
+Fabre. This memoir marked the second stage of his scientific career, and
+followed, at an interval of two years, the magnificent observations on the
+Cerceris.
+
+These two studies, true masterpieces of science, already constituted two
+excellent titles to fame, and would by themselves have sufficed to fill a
+naturalist's whole lifetime and to make his name illustrious.
+
+>From that time forward he had no peer. The Institute awarded him one of its
+Montyon prizes (4/11.), "an honour of which, needless to say, he had never
+dreamed." (4/12.) Darwin, in his celebrated work on the "Origin of
+Species," which appeared precisely at this moment, speaks of Fabre
+somewhere as "the inimitable observer." (4/13.)
+
+Exploring the immediate surroundings of Avignon, he very soon discovered
+fresh localities frequented almost exclusively by other insects, whose
+habits in their turn absorbed his whole attention.
+
+First of these was the sandy plateau of the Angles, where every spring, in
+the sunlit pastures so beloved of the sheep, the Scarabaeus sacer, with his
+incurved feet and clumsy legs, commences to roll his everlasting pellet,
+"to the ancients the image of the world." His history, since the time of
+the Pharaohs, had been nothing but a tissue of legends; but stripping it of
+the embroidery of fiction, and referring it to the facts of nature, Fabre
+demonstrated that the true story is even more marvellous than all the tales
+of ancient Egypt. He narrated its actual life, the object of its task, and
+its comical and exhilarating performances. But such is the subtlety of
+these delicate and difficult researches that nearly forty years were
+required to complete the study of its habits and to solve the mystery of
+its cradle. (4/14.)
+
+On the right bank of the Rhône, facing the embouchure of the Durance, is a
+small wood of oak-trees, the wood of Des Issarts. This again, for many
+reasons, was one of his favourite spots. There, "lying flat on the ground,
+his head in the shadow of some rabbit's burrow," or sheltered from the sun
+by a great umbrella, "while the blue-winged locusts frisked for joy," he
+would follow the rapid and sibilant flight of the elegant Bembex, carrying
+their daily ration of diptera to her larvae, at the bottom of her burrow,
+deep in the fine sand." (4/15.)
+
+He did not always go thither alone: sometimes, on Sundays, he would take
+his pupils with him, to spend a morning in the fields, "at the ineffable
+festival of the awakening of life in the spring." (4/16.)
+
+Those most dear to him, those who in the subsequent years have remained the
+object of a special affection, were Devillario, Bordone, and Vayssières
+(4/17.), "young people with warm hearts and smiling imaginations,
+overflowing with that springtime sap of life which makes us so expansive
+and so eager to know.
+
+Among them he was "the eldest, their master, but still more their companion
+and friend"; lighting in them his own sacred fire, and amazing them by the
+deftness of his fingers and the acuteness of his lynx-like eyes. Furnished
+with a notebook and all the tools of the naturalist--lens, net, and little
+boxes of sawdust steeped in anaesthetic for the capture of rare specimens--
+they would wander "along the paths bordered with hawthorn and hyaebla,
+simple and childlike folk," probing the bushes, scratching up the sand,
+raising stones, running the net along hedge and meadow, with explosions of
+delight when they made some splendid capture or discovered some unrecorded
+marvel of the entomological world.
+
+It was not only on the banks of the Rhône or the sandy plateau of Avignon
+that they sought adventure thus, "discussing things and other things," but
+as far as the slopes of Mont Ventoux, for which Fabre had always felt an
+inexplicable and invincible attraction, and whose ascent he accomplished
+more than twenty times, so that at last he knew all its secrets, all the
+gamut of its vegetation, the wealth of the varied flora which climb its
+flanks from base to summit, and which range "from the scarlet flowers of
+the pomegranate to the violet of Mont Cenis and the Alpine forget-me-not"
+(4/18.), as well as the antediluvian fauna revealed amid its entrails, a
+vast ossuary rich in fossils.
+
+His disciples, all of whom, without exception, regarded him with absolute
+worship, have retained the memory of his wit, his enthusiasm, his geniality
+and his infectious gaiety, and also of the singular uncertainty of his
+temperament; for on some days he would not speak a word from the beginning
+to the end of his walk.
+
+Even his temper, ordinarily gentle and easy, would suddenly become hasty
+and violent, and would break out into terrible explosions when a sudden
+annoyance set him beside himself; for instance, when he was the butt of
+some ill-natured trick, or when, in spite of the lucidity of his
+explanations, he felt that he had not been properly understood. Perhaps he
+inherited this from his mother, a rebellious, crotchety, somewhat fantastic
+person, by whose temper he himself had suffered.
+
+But the young people who surrounded him were far from being upset by these
+contrasts of temperament, in which they themselves saw nothing but natural
+annoyance, and the corollary, as it were, of his abounding vitality.
+(4/19.)
+
+It was because he was the only university teacher in Avignon to occupy
+himself with entomology that Pasteur visited him in 1865. The illustrious
+chemist had been striving to check the plague that was devastating the
+silkworm nurseries, and as he knew nothing of the subject which he proposed
+to study, not even understanding the constitution of the cocoon or the
+evolution of the silkworm, he sought out Fabre in order to obtain from his
+store of entomological wisdom the elementary ideas which he would find
+indispensable. Fabre has told us, in a moving page (4/20), with what a
+total lack of comprehension of "poverty in a black coat" the great
+scientist gazed at his poor home. Preoccupied by another problem, that of
+the amelioration of wines by means of heat, Pasteur asked him point-blank--
+him, the humble proletarian of the university caste, who drank only the
+cheapest wine of the country--to show him his cellar. "My cellar! Why not
+my vaults, my dusty bottles, labelled according to age and vintage! But
+Pasteur insisted. Then, pointing with my finger, I showed him, in a corner
+of the kitchen, a chair with all the straw gone, and on this chair a two-
+gallon demijohn: 'There is my cave, monsieur!'"
+
+If the country professor was embarrassed by the chilliness of the other, he
+was none the less shocked by his attitude. It would seem, from what Fabre
+has said, that Pasteur treated him with a hauteur which was slightly
+disdainful. The ignorant genius questioned his humble colleague, distantly
+giving him his orders, explaining his plans and his ideas, and informing
+him in what directions he required assistance.
+
+After this, we cannot be surprised if the naturalist was silent. How could
+sympathetic relations have survived this first meeting? Fabre could not
+forgive it. His own character was too independent to accommodate itself to
+Pasteur's. Yet never, perhaps, were two men made for a better
+understanding. They were equally expert in exercising their admirable
+powers of vision in the vast field of nature, equally critical of self,
+equally careful never to depart from the strict limits of the facts; and
+they were, one may say, equally eminent in the domain of invention,
+different though their fortunes may have been; for the sublimity of
+scientific discoveries, however full of genius they may be, is often
+measured only by the immediate consequences drawn therefrom and the
+practical importance of their results.
+
+In reality, were they not two rivals, worthy of being placed side by side
+in the paradise of sages? Both of them, the one by demolishing the theory
+of spontaneous generation, the other by refuting the mechanical theory of
+the origin of instincts, have brought into due prominence the great unknown
+and mysterious forces which seem destined to hold eternally in suspense the
+profound enigma of life.
+
+Now he was anxious not to leave the Vaucluse district, the scene of his
+first success, and a place so fruitful in subjects of study. He wished to
+remain close to his insects, and also near the precious library and the
+rich collections which Requien had left by will to the town of Avignon. In
+spite of the meagreness of his salary, he asked for nothing more; and, what
+is more, by an inconsequence which is by no means incomprehensible, he
+avoided everything that might have resulted in a more profitable position
+elsewhere, and evaded all proposals of further promotion. Twice, at
+Poitiers and Marseilles, he refused a post as assistant professor, not
+regarding the advantages sufficient to balance the expenses of removal.
+(4/21.)
+
+It is true that his modest position was slightly improved; at the lycée he
+had just been appointed drawing-master, thanks to his knowledge of design,
+for he could draw--indeed, what could he not do? The city, on the other
+hand, appointed him conservator of the Requien Museum, and presently
+municipal lecturer, so that his earnings were increased by 48 pounds
+sterling per annum, and he was at last able to abandon "those abominable
+private lessons" (4/22.), which the insufficiency of his income had
+hitherto forced him to accept. These new duties, which naturally demanded
+much time and much labour, kept him almost as badly tied as he had been
+before.
+
+To be rich enough to set himself free; to be master of all his time, to be
+able to devote himself entirely to his chosen work: this was his dream, his
+constant preoccupation: it haunted him; it was a fixed idea.
+
+Such was the principal motive of his inquiry into the properties of madder,
+the colouring principle of which he succeeded in extracting directly, by a
+perfectly simple method, which for a time very advantageously replaced the
+extremely primitive methods of the old dyers, who used a simple extract of
+madder; a crude preparation which necessitated long and expensive
+manipulations. (4/23.)
+
+He had been working at this for eight years when Victor Duruy, Minister of
+Public Instruction and Grand Master of the University, came to surprise him
+in his laboratory at Saint-Martial, in the full fever of research. Whatever
+was Duruy's idea in entering into relations with him, it seems that from
+their first meeting the two men were really taken with one another: there
+were, between them, so many close affinities of taste and character. Duruy
+found in Fabre a man of his own temper; for his, like Fabre's, was a modest
+and simple nature. Both came of the people, and the principal motive of
+each was the same ideal of work, emancipation, and progress.
+
+A little later Duruy summoned the modest sage of Avignon to Paris, with
+particular insistence; he was full of attentions and of forethought, and
+made him there and then a chevalier of the Legion of Honour; a distinction
+of which Fabre was far from being proud, and which he was careful never to
+obtrude; but he nevertheless always thought of it with a certain
+tenderness, as a beloved "relic" in memory of this illustrious friend.
+
+On the following day the naturalist was conveyed to the Tuileries to be
+presented to the Emperor. You must not suppose that he was in the least
+disturbed at the idea of finding himself face to face with royalty. In the
+presence of all these bedizened folk, in his coat of a cut which was
+doubtless already superannuated, he cared little for the impression he
+might produce. As good an observer of men as of beasts, he gazed quietly
+about him; he exchanged a few words with the Emperor, who was "quite
+simple," almost suppressed, his eyes always half-closed; he watched the
+coming and going of "the chamberlains with short breeches and silver-
+buckled shoes, great scarabaei, clad with café au lait wing-cases, moving
+with a formal gait." Already he sighed regretfully; he was bored; he was on
+the rack, and for nothing in the world would he have repeated the
+experience. He did not even feel the least desire to visit the vaunted
+collections of the Museum. He longed to return; to find himself once more
+among his dear insects; to see his grey olive-trees, full of the frolicsome
+cicadae, his wastes and commons, which smelt so sweet of thyme and cypress;
+above all, to return to his furnace and retorts, in order to complete his
+discovery as quickly as possible.
+
+But others profited by his happy conceptions. Like the cicada, the Cigale
+of his fable (See "Social Life in the Insect World," by Jean-Henri Fabre
+(T. Fisher Unwin, 1912).), which makes a "honeyed reek" flow from--
+
+ "the bark
+Tender and juicy, of the bough,"
+
+on which it is quickly supplanted by
+
+"Fly, drone, wasp, beetle too with hornèd head" (4/24.),
+
+who
+
+"Now lick their honey'd lips, and feed at leisure,"
+
+so, after he had painfully laboured for twelve years in his well, he saw
+others, more cunning than he, come to his perch, who by dint of "stamping
+on his toe," succeeded in ousting him. Pending the appearance of artificial
+alizarine, which was presently to turn the whole madder industry upside
+down, these more sophisticated persons were able to benefit at leisure by
+the ingenious processes discovered by Fabre, so that the practical result
+of so much assiduity, so much patient research, was absolutely nil, and he
+found himself as poor as ever.
+
+So faded his dream: and, if we except his domestic griefs, this was
+certainly the deepest and cruellest disappointment he had ever experienced.
+
+Thenceforth he saw his salvation only in the writing of textbooks, which
+were at last to throw open the door of freedom. Already he had set to work,
+under the powerful stimulus of Duruy, preoccupied as he always was by his
+incessant desire for freedom. The first rudiments of his "Agricultural
+Chemistry," which sounded so fresh a note in the matter of teaching, had
+given an instance and a measure of his capabilities.
+
+But he did not seriously devote himself to this project until after the
+industrial failure and the distressing miscarriage of his madder process;
+and not until he had been previously assured of the co-operation of Charles
+Delagrave, a young publisher, whose fortunate intervention contributed in
+no small degree to his deliverance. Confident in his vast powers of work,
+and divining his incomparable talent as POPULARIZER, Delagrave felt that he
+could promise Fabre that he would never leave him without work; and this
+promise was all the more comforting, in that the University, despite his
+twenty-eight years of assiduous service, would not accord him the smallest
+pension.
+
+Victor Duruy was the great restorer of education in France, from elementary
+and primary education, which should date, from his great ministry, the era
+of its deliverance, to the secondary education which he himself created in
+every part. He was also the real initiator of secular instruction in
+France, and the Third Republic has done little but resume his work, develop
+his ideas, and extend his programme. Finally, by instituting classes for
+adults, the evening classes which enabled workmen, peasants, bourgeois, and
+young women to fill the gaps in their education, he gave reality to the
+generous and fruitful idea that it is possible for all to divide life into
+two parts, one having for its object our material needs and our daily
+bread, and the other consecrated to the spiritual life and the delights of
+the Ideal.
+
+At the same time he emancipated the young women of France, formerly under
+the exclusive tutelage of the clergy, and opened to them for the first time
+the golden gates of knowledge; an audacious innovation, and formidable
+withal, for it shrewdly touched the interests of the Church, struck a blow
+at her ever-increasing influence, and clashed with her consecrated
+privileges and age-long prejudices. (4/25.)
+
+At Avignon Fabre was instructed to give his personal services. He gave them
+with all his heart; and it was then that he undertook, in the ancient Abbey
+of Saint-Martial, those famous free lectures which have remained celebrated
+in the memory of that generation. There, under the ancient Gothic vault,
+among the pupils of the primary Normal College, an eager crowd of listeners
+pressed to hear him; and among the most assiduous was Roumanille, the
+friend of Mistral, he who so exquisitely wove into his harmonies "the
+laughter of young maidens and the flowers of springtime." No one expounded
+a fact better than Fabre; no one explained it so fully and so clearly. No
+one could teach as he did, in a fashion so simple, so animated, so
+picturesque, and by methods so original.
+
+He was indeed convinced that even in early childhood it was possible for
+both boys and girls to learn and to love many subjects which had hitherto
+never been proposed; and in particular that Natural History which to him
+was a book in which all the world might read, but that university methods
+had reduced it to a tedious and useless study in which the letter "killed
+the life."
+
+He knew the secret of communicating his conviction, his profound faith, to
+his hearers: that sacred fire which animated him, that passion for all the
+creatures of nature.
+
+These lectures took place in the evening, twice a week, alternately with
+the municipal lectures, to which Fabre brought no less application and
+ardour. In the intention of those who instituted them these latter were
+above all to be practical and scientific, dealing with science applied to
+agriculture, the arts, and industry.
+
+But might he not also expect auditors of another quality, in love only with
+the ideal, "who, without troubling about the possible applications of
+scientific theory, desired above all to be initiated into the action of the
+forces which rule nature, and thereby to open to their minds more wondrous
+horizons"?
+
+Such were the noble scruples which troubled his conscience, and which
+appeared in the letter which he addressed to the administration of the
+city, when he was entrusted by the latter with what he regarded as a lofty
+and most important mission.
+
+"...Is it to be understood that every purely scientific aspect, incapable
+of immediate application, is to be rigorously banished from these lessons?
+Is it to be understood that, confined to an impassable circle, the value of
+every truth must be reckoned at so much per hundred, and that I must
+silently pass over all that aims only at satisfying a laudable desire of
+knowledge? No, gentlemen, for then these lectures would lack a very
+essential thing: the spirit which gives life!" (4/26.)
+
+Physically, according to the testimony of his contemporaries, he was
+already as an admirable photograph represents him twenty years later: he
+wore a large black felt hat; his face was shaven, the chin strong and
+wilful, the eyes vigilant, deep-set and penetrating; he hardly changed, and
+it was thus I saw him later, at a more advanced age.
+
+The ancient Abbey of Saint-Martial, where these lectures were given, was
+occupied also by the Requien Museum, of which Fabre had charge. It was here
+that he one day met John Stuart Mill.
+
+The celebrated philosopher and economist had just lost his wife: "the most
+precious friendship of his life" was ended. (4/27.) It was only after long
+waiting that he had been able to marry her. Subjected at an early age by a
+father devoid of tenderness and formidably severe to the harshest of
+disciplines, he had learned in childhood "what is usually learned only by a
+man." Scarcely out of his long clothes, he was construing Herodotus and the
+dialogues of Plato, and the whole of his dreary youth was spent in covering
+the vast field of the moral and mathematical sciences. His heart, always
+suppressed, never really expanded until he met Mrs. Harriett Taylor.
+
+This was one of those privileged beings such as seem as a rule to exist
+only in poetry and literature; a woman as beautiful as she was
+astonishingly gifted with the rarest faculties; combining with the most
+searching intelligence and the most persuasive eloquence so exquisite a
+sensitiveness that she seemed often to divine events in advance.
+
+Mill possessed her at last for a few years only, and he had resigned his
+post in the offices of the East India Company to enjoy a studious retreat
+in the enchanted atmosphere of southern Europe when suddenly at Avignon
+Harriett Mill was carried off by a violent illness. (Mill retired in 1858,
+when the government of India passed to the Crown. He had married Mrs. John
+Taylor in 1851. [Tr.])
+
+>From that time the philosopher's horizon was suddenly contracted to the
+limit of those places whence had vanished the adored companion and the
+beneficent genius who had been the sole charm of his entire existence.
+Overwhelmed with grief, he acquired a small country house in one of the
+least frequented parts of the suburbs of Avignon, close to the cemetery
+where the beloved dead was laid to rest for ever. A silent alley of planes
+and mulberry-trees led to the threshold, which was shaded by the delicate
+foliage of a myrtle. All about he had planted a dense hedge of hawthorn,
+cypress, and arborvitae, above which, from the vantage of a small terrace,
+built, under his orders, at the level of the first floor, he could see, day
+by day and at all hours, the white tomb of his wife, and a little ease his
+grief.
+
+Thus he cloistered himself, "living in memory," having no companion but the
+daughter of his wife; trying to console himself by work, recapitulating his
+life, the story of which he has told in his remarkable "Memoirs." (4/28.)
+
+Fabre paid a few visits to this Thebaïd. A solitary such as Mill had become
+could be attracted only by a man of his temper, in whom he found, if not an
+affinity of nature, at least tastes like his own, and immense learning, as
+great as his. For Mill also was versed in all the branches of human
+knowledge: not only had he meditated on the high problems of history and
+political economy, but he had also probed all branches of science:
+mathematics, physics, and natural history. It was above all botany which
+served them as a bond of union, and they were often seen to set forth on a
+botanizing expedition through the countryside.
+
+This friendship, which was not without profit for Fabre (4/29.), was still
+more precious to Mill, who found, in the society of the naturalist, a
+certain relief from his sorrow. The substance of their conversation was far
+from being such as one might have imagined it. Mill was not highly sensible
+to the festival of nature or the poetry of the fields. He was hardly
+interested in botany, except from the somewhat abstract point of view of
+classification and the systematic arrangement of species. Always
+melancholy, cold, and distant, he spoke little; but Fabre felt under this
+apparent sensibility a rigorous integrity of character, a great capacity
+for devotion, and a rare goodness of heart.
+
+So the two wandered across country, each thinking his own thoughts, and
+each self-contained as though they were walking on parallel but distant
+paths.
+
+However, Fabre was not at the end of his troubles; and secret ill-feeling
+began to surround him. The free lectures at Saint-Martial offended the
+devout, angered the sectaries, and excited the intolerance of the pedants,
+"whose feeble eyelids blink at the daylight," and he was far from
+receiving, from his colleagues at the lycée, the sympathy and encouragement
+which were, at this moment especially, so necessary to him. Some even went
+so far as to denounce him publicly, and he was mentioned one day from the
+height of the pulpit, to the indignation of the pupils of the upper Normal
+College, as a man at once dangerous and subversive.
+
+Some found it objectionable that this "irregular person, this man of
+solitary study," should, by his work and by the magic of his teaching,
+assume a position so unique and so disproportionate. Others regarded the
+novelty of placing the sciences at the disposal of young girls as a heresy
+and a scandal.
+
+Their bickering, their cabals, their secret manoeuvres, were in the long
+run to triumph. Duruy had just succumbed under the incessant attacks of the
+clericals. In him Fabre lost a friend, a protector, and his only support.
+Embittered, defeated, he was now only waiting for a pretext, an incident, a
+mere nothing, to throw up everything.
+
+One fine morning his landladies, devout and aged spinsters, made themselves
+the instruments of the spite of his enemies, and abruptly gave him notice
+to quit. he had to leave before the end of the month, for, simple and
+confident as usual, he had obtained neither a lease nor the least written
+agreement.
+
+At this moment he was so poor that he had not even the money to meet the
+expenses of his removal. The times were troublous: the great war had
+commenced, and Paris being invested he could no longer obtain the small
+earnings which his textbooks were beginning to yield him, and which had for
+some time been increasing his modest earnings. On the other hand, having
+always lived far from all society, he had not at Avignon a single relation
+who could assist him, and he could neither obtain credit nor find any one
+to extricate him from his embarrassments and save him from the extremity of
+need with which he was threatened. He thought of Mill, and in this
+difficult juncture it was Mill who saved him. The philosopher was then in
+England; he was for the time being a member of the House of Commons, and he
+used to vary his life at Avignon by a few weeks' sojourn in London. His
+reply, however, was not long in coming: almost immediately he sent help; a
+sum of some 120 pounds sterling, which fell like manna into the hands of
+Fabre; and he did not, in exchange, demand the slightest security for this
+advance.
+
+Then, filled with disgust, the "irregular person" shook off the yoke and
+retired to Orange. At first he took shelter where he could, anxious only to
+avoid as far as possible any contact with his fellow-men; then, having
+finally discovered a dwelling altogether in conformity with his tastes, he
+moved to the outskirts of the city, and settled at the edge of the fields,
+in the middle of a great meadow, in an isolated house, pleasant and
+commodious, connected with the road to Camaret by a superb avenue of tall
+and handsome plane-trees. This hermitage in some respects recalled that of
+Mill in the outskirts of Avignon; and thence his eyes, embracing a vast
+horizon, from the pediment of the ancient theatre to the hills of Sérignan,
+could already distinguish the promised land.
+
+
+CHAPTER 5. A GREAT TEACHER.
+
+It was in 1871. Fabre had lived twenty years at Avignon. This date
+constitutes an important landmark in his career, since it marks the precise
+moment of his final rupture with the University.
+
+At this time the preoccupations of material life were more pressing than
+ever, and it was then that he devoted himself entirely and with
+perseverance to the writing of those admirable works of introduction and
+initiation, in which he applied himself to rendering science accessible to
+the youngest minds, and employed all his profound knowledge to the thorough
+teaching of its elements and its eternal laws.
+
+To this ungrateful task--ungrateful, but in reality pleasurable, so
+strongly had he the vocation, the feeling, and the genius of the teacher--
+Fabre applied himself thenceforth with all his heart, and for nine years
+never lifted his hand.
+
+How insipid, how forbidding were the usual classbooks, the second-rate
+natural histories above all, stuffed with dry statements, with raw
+knowledge, which brought nothing but the memory into play! How many
+youthful faces had grown pale above them!
+
+What a contrast and a deliverance in these little books of Fabre's, so
+clear, so luminous, so simple, which for the first time spoke to the heart
+and the understanding; for "work which one does not understand disgusts
+one." (5/1.)
+
+To initiate others into science or art, it is not enough to have understood
+them oneself; it is not enough even that one should be an artist or a
+scientist. Scientists of the highest flight are sometimes very unskilful
+teachers, and very indifferent hands at explaining the alphabet. It is not
+given to the first comer to educate the young; to understand how to
+identify his understanding with theirs, to measure their powers. It is a
+matter of instinct and good sense rather than of memory or erudition, and
+Fabre, who had never in his life been the pupil of any one, could better
+than any remember the phases through which his mind had passed, could
+recollect by what detours of the mind, by what secret labours of thought,
+by what intuitive methods he had succeeded in conquering, one by one, all
+the difficulties in his path, and in gradually attaining to knowledge.
+
+It is wonderful to watch the mastery with which he conducts his
+demonstrations, the simplest as well as the most involved, singling out the
+essential, little by little evoking the sense of things, ingeniously
+seeking familiar examples, finding comparisons, and employing picturesque
+and striking images, which throw a dazzling light upon the obscurest
+question or the most difficult problem. How in such matters can one
+dispense with figurative speech, when one is reduced, as a rule, to an
+inability to show the things themselves, but only their images and their
+symbols?
+
+Follow him, for example, in the "The Sky" (5/2.), which seems to thrill
+with the ardent and comprehensive genius of a Humboldt, and admire the ease
+with which he surmounts all the difficulties and smooths the way for the
+vast voyage on which he conducts you, past the infinity of the suns and the
+stars in their millions, scintillating in the cold air of night, to descend
+once more to our humble "Earth" (5/3.); first an ocean of fire, rolling its
+heavy waves of molten porphyry and granite, then "slowly hardening into
+strange floes and bergs, hotter than the red iron in the fire of the
+forge," rounding its back, all covered with gaping pustules, eruptive
+mountains and craters, and the first folds of its calcined crust, until the
+day when the vast mist of densest vapours, heaped up on every hand and of
+immeasurable depth, begins gradually to show rifts, giving rise at last to
+an infinite storm, a stupendous deluge, and forming the strange universal
+sea, "a mineral sludge, veiled by a chaos of smoke," whence at length the
+primitive soil emerges, "and at last the green grass."
+
+And although "a little animal proteid, capable of pleasure and pain,
+surpasses in interest the whole immense creation of dead matter," he does
+not forget to show us the spectacle of life flowing through matter itself;
+and he animates even the simple elementary bodies, celebrating the
+marvellous activities of the air, the violence of Chlorine, the
+metamorphoses of Carbon, the miraculous bridals of Phosphorus, and "the
+splendours which accompany the birth of a drop of water." (5/4.)
+
+A man must indeed love knowledge deeply before he can make others love it,
+or render it easy and attractive, revealing only the smiling highways; and
+Fabre, above all things the impassioned professor, was the very man to lead
+his disciples "between the hedges of hawthorn and sloe," whether to show
+them the sap, "that fruitful current, that flowing flesh, that vegetable
+blood," or how the plant, by a mysterious transubstantiation, makes its
+wood, "and the delicate bundle of swaddling-bands of its buds," or how
+"from a putrid ordure it extracts the flavour and the fragrance of its
+fruits"; or whether he seeks to evoke the murderous plants that live as
+parasites at the cost of others; the white Clandestinus, "which strangles
+the roots of the alders beside the rivers," the Cuscuta, "which knows
+nothing of labour," the wicked Orobanche, plump, powerful and brazen, the
+skin covered with ugly scales, "with sombre flowers that wear the livery of
+death, which leaps at the throat of the clover, stifling it, devouring it,
+sucking its blood." (5/5.)
+
+Botany, by this genial treatment, becomes a most interesting study, and I
+know of no more captivating reading than "The Plant" and "The Story of the
+Log," the jewels of this incomparable series.
+
+Employ Fabre's method if you wish to learn by yourself, or to evoke in your
+children a love of science, and, according to the phrase of the gentle
+Jean-Jacques, to help them "to buy at the best possible of prices." Give
+them as sole guides these exquisite manuals, which touch upon everything,
+initiating them into everything, and bringing within the reach of all, for
+their instruction or amusement, the heavens and the earth, the planets and
+their moons, the mechanism of the great natural forces and the laws which
+govern them, life and its materials, agriculture and its applications. For
+more than a quarter of a century these catechisms of science, models of
+lucidity and good sense, effected the education of generations of
+Frenchmen. Abridgments of all knowledge, veritable codes of rural wisdom,
+these perfect breviaries have never been surpassed.
+
+It was after reading these little books, it is said, that Duruy conceived
+the idea of confiding to this admirable teacher the education of the
+Imperial heir; and it is very probable that this was, in reality, the
+secret motive which would explain why he had so expressly summoned Fabre to
+Paris. What an ideal tutor he had thought of, and how proud might others
+have been of such a choice! But the man was too zealous of his
+independence, too difficult to tame, to bear with the environment of a
+court, and God knows whether he was made for such refulgence! We need not
+be surprised that Fabre never heard of it; it must have sufficed the
+minister to speak with him for a few minutes to realize that the most
+tempting offers and all the powers of seduction would never overcome his
+insurmountable dislike of life in a capital, nor prevail against his
+inborn, passionate, exclusive love of the open.
+
+For these volumes Fabre was at first rather wretchedly paid; at all events,
+until public education had definitely received a fresh impulse; and for a
+long time his life at Orange was literally a hand-to-mouth existence.
+
+As soon as he was able to realize a few advances, he had nothing so much at
+heart as the repayment of Mill, and he hastened to call on the philosopher;
+all the more filled with gratitude for his generosity in that the loan,
+although of the comparatively large amount of three thousand francs, was
+made without security, practically from hand to hand, with no other
+warranty than his probity.
+
+For this reason this episode was always engraven on his memory. Thirty
+years later he would relate the affair even to the most insignificant
+details. How many times has he not reminded me of the transaction,
+insisting that I should make a note of it, so anxious was he that this
+incident in his career should not be lost in oblivion! How often has he not
+recalled the infinite delicacy of Mill, and his excessive scrupulousness,
+which went so far that he wished to give a written acknowledgment of the
+repayment of the debt, of which there was no record whatever save in the
+conscience of the debtor!
+
+Scarcely two years later Mill died suddenly at Avignon. Grief finally
+killed him; for this unexpected death seemed to have been only the ultimate
+climax of the secret malady which had so long been undermining him.
+
+It was in the outskirts of Orange that Fabre for the last time met him and
+accompanied him upon a botanizing expedition. He was struck by his weakness
+and his rapid decline. Mill could hardly drag himself along, and when he
+stooped to gather a specimen he had the greatest difficulty in rising. They
+were never to meet again.
+
+A few days later--on the 8th May, 1873--Fabre was invited to lunch with the
+philosopher. Before going to the little house by the cemetery he halted, as
+was his custom, at the Libraire Saint-Just. It was there that he learned,
+with amazement, of the tragic and sudden event which set a so unexpected
+term to a friendship which was doubtless a little remote, but which was, on
+both sides, a singularly lofty and beautiful attachment.
+
+His class-books were now bringing in scarcely anything; their preparation,
+moreover, involved an excessive expenditure of time, and gave him a great
+deal of trouble; it is impossible to imagine what scrupulous care, what
+zeal and self-respect Fabre brought to the execution of the programme which
+he had to fulfil.
+
+To begin with, he considered that he could not enjoy a more splendid
+opportunity to give children a taste for science and to stimulate their
+curiosity than by finding a means to interest them, from their earliest
+infancy, in their simple playthings, even the crudest and most inexpensive;
+so true is it that "in the smallest mechanical device or engine, even in
+its simplest form, as conceived by the industry of a child, there is often
+the germ of important truths, and, better than books, the school of the
+playroom, if gently disciplined, will open for the child the windows of the
+universe."
+
+"The humble teetotum, made of a crust of rye-bread transfixed by a twig,
+silently spinning on the cover of a school-book, will give a correct enough
+image of the earth, which retains unmoved its original impulse, and travels
+along a great circle, at the same time turning on itself. Gummed on its
+disc, scraps of paper properly coloured will tell us of white light,
+decomposable into various coloured rays...
+
+"There will be the pop-gun, with its ramrod and its two plugs of tow, the
+hinder one expelling the foremost by the elasticity of the compressed air.
+Thus we get a glimpse of the ballistics of gunpowder, and the pressure of
+steam in engines..."
+
+The little hydraulic fountain made of an apricot stone, patiently hollowed
+and pierced with a hole at either side, into which two straws are fitted,
+one dipping into a cup of water and the other duly capped, "expelling a
+slender thread of water in which the sunlight flickers," will introduce us
+to the true syphon of physics.
+
+"What amusing and useful lessons" a well-balanced scheme of education might
+extract from this "academy of childish ingenuity"! (5/6.)
+
+At this time he was undertaking the education of his own children. His
+chemistry lessons especially had a great success. (5/7.) With apparatus of
+his own devising and of the simplest kind, he could perform a host of
+elementary experiments, the apparatus as a rule consisting of the most
+ordinary materials, such as a common flask or bottle, an old mustard-pot, a
+tumbler, a goose-quill or a pipe-stem.
+
+A series of astonishing phenomena amazed their wondering eyes. He made them
+see, touch, taste, handle, and smell, and always "the hand assisted the
+word," always "the example accompanied the precept," for no one more fully
+valued the profound maxim, so neglected and misunderstood, that "to see is
+to know."
+
+He exerted himself to arouse their curiosity, to provoke their questions,
+to discover their mistakes, to set their ideas in order; he accustomed them
+to rectify their errors themselves, and from all this he obtained excellent
+material for his books.
+
+For those more especially intended for the education of girls he took
+counsel with his daughter Antonia, inviting her collaboration, begging her
+to suggest every aspect of the matter that occurred to her; for instance,
+in respect of the chemistry of the household, "where exact science should
+shed its light upon a host of facts relating to domestic economy" (5/8.),
+from the washing of clothes to the making of a stew.
+
+Even now, to his despair, although freed from the cares of school life, he
+was always almost wholly without leisure to devote himself to his chosen
+subjects.
+
+It was at this period above all that he felt so "lonely, abandoned,
+struggling against misfortune; and before one can philosophize one has to
+live." (5/9.)
+
+And his incessant labour was aggravated by a bitter disappointment. In the
+year of Mill's death Fabre was dismissed from his post as conservator of
+the Requien Museum, which he had held in spite of his departure from
+Avignon, going thither regularly twice a week to acquit himself of his
+duties. The municipality, working in the dark, suddenly dismissed him
+without explanation. To Fabre this dismissal was infinitely bitter; "a
+sweeper-boy would have been treated with as much ceremony." (5/10.) What
+afflicted him most was not the undeserved slight of the dismissal, but his
+unspeakable regret at quitting those beloved vegetable collections,
+"amassed with such love" by Requien, who was his friend and master, and by
+Mill and himself; and the thought that he would henceforth perhaps be
+unable to save these precious but perishable things from oblivion, or
+terminate the botanical geography of Vaucluse, on which he had been thirty
+years at work!
+
+For this reason, when there was some talk of establishing an agronomic
+station at Avignon, and of appointing him director, he was at first warmly
+in favour of the idea. (5/11.) Already he foresaw a host of fascinating
+experiments, of the highest practical value, conducted in the peace and
+leisure and security of a fixed appointment. It is indeed probable that in
+so vast a field he would have demonstrated many valuable truths, fruitful
+in practical results; he was certainly meant for such a task, and he would
+have performed it with genuine personal satisfaction. He had already
+exerted his ingenuity by trying to develop, among the children of the
+countryside, a taste for agriculture, which he rightly considered the
+logical complement of the primary school, and which is based upon all the
+sciences which he himself had studied, probed, taught, and popularized.
+
+It will be remembered how patiently he devoted himself for twelve years to
+the study of madder, multiplying his researches, and applying himself not
+only to extracting the colouring principle, but also to indicating means
+whereby adulteration and fraud might be detected.
+
+He had published memoirs of great importance dealing with entomology in its
+relations to agriculture. Impressed with the importance of this little
+world, he suggested valuable remedies, means of preservation; which were
+all the more logical in that the destruction of insects, if it is to be
+efficacious, must be based not upon a gross empiricism, but on a previous
+study of their social life and their habits.
+
+With what patience he observed the terribly destructive weevils, and those
+formidable moths with downy wings, which fly without sound of a night, and
+whose depredations have often been valued at millions of francs! How
+meticulously he has recorded the conditions which favour or check the
+development of those parasitic fungi whose mortal blemishes are seen on
+buds and flowers, on the green shoots and clusters that promise a
+prosperous vintage!
+
+But then he became anxious. Was it all worth the sacrifice of his liberty?
+"Would he not suffer a thousand annoyances from pretentious nobodies?" for
+as things were, all ideas of again "enregimenting" himself "filled him with
+horror." (5/12.)
+
+Slowly, however, the first instalment of the work which he had spent nearly
+twenty-five years in planning, creating, and polishing, began to take
+shape. At the end of the year 1878 he was able to assemble a sufficient
+number of studies to form material for what was to be the first volume of
+his "Souvenirs entomologiques." (A selection of which forms "Social Life in
+the Insect World" (T. Fisher Unwin, 1912).)
+
+Let us stop for a moment to consider this first book, whose publication
+constitutes a truly historical date, not only in the career of Fabre, but
+in the annals of universal science. It was at once the foundation and the
+keystone of the marvellous edifice which we shall watch unfolding and
+increasing, but to which the future was in reality to add nothing
+essential. The cardinal ideas as to instinct and evolution, the necessity
+of experimenting in the psychology of animals, and the harmonic laws of the
+conservation of the individual, are here already expounded in their final
+and definite form. This fruitful and decisive year brought Fabre a great
+grief. He lost his son Jules, that one of all his children whom he seems
+most ardently to have loved.
+
+He was a youth of great promise, "all fire, all flame"; of a serious
+nature; an exquisite being, of a precocious intelligence, whose rare
+aptitudes both for science and literature were truly extraordinary. Such
+too was the subtlety of his senses that by handling no matter what plant,
+with his eyes closed, he could recognize and define it merely by the sense
+of touch. This delightful companion of his father's studies had scarcely
+passed his fifteenth year when death removed him. A terrible void was left
+in his heart, which was never filled. Thirty years later the least allusion
+to this child, however tactful, which recalled this dear memory to his
+mind, would still wring his heart, and his whole body would be shaken by
+his sobs. As always, work was his refuge and consolation; but this terrible
+blow shattered his health, until then so robust. In the midst of this
+disastrous winter he fell seriously ill. He was stricken with pneumonia,
+which all but carried him off, and every one gave him up for lost. However,
+he recovered, and issued from his convalescence as though regenerated, and
+with strength renewed he attacked the next stage of his labours.
+
+But what are the most fruitful resolutions, and what poor playthings are we
+in the hands of the unexpected! A vulgar incident of every-day life had
+sufficed to make Fabre decide to break openly with the University, and to
+leave Avignon. The secret motive of his departure from Orange was scarcely
+more solid. His new landlord concluded one day, either from cupidity or
+stupidity, to lop most ferociously the two magnificent rows of plane-trees
+which formed a shady avenue before his house, in which the birds piped and
+warbled in the spring, and the cicadae chorused in the summer. Fabre could
+not endure this massacre, this barbarous mutilation, this crime against
+nature. Hungry for peace and quiet, the enjoyment of a dwelling-place could
+no longer content him; at all costs he must own his own home.
+
+So, having won the modest ransom of his deliverance, he waited no longer,
+but quitted the cities for ever; retiring to Sérignan, to the peaceful
+obscurity of a tiny hamlet, and this quiet corner of the earth had
+henceforth all his heart and soul in keeping.
+
+
+CHAPTER 6. THE HERMITAGE.
+
+Goethe has somewhere written: Whosoever would understand the poet and his
+work should visit the poet's country.
+
+Let us, then, the latest of many, make the pilgrimage which all those who
+are fascinated by the enigma of nature will accomplish later, with the same
+piety that has led so many and so fervent admirers to the dwelling of
+Mistral at Maillane.
+
+Starting from Orange and crossing the Aygues, a torrent whose muddy waters
+are lost in the Rhône, but whose bed is dried by the July and August suns,
+leaving only a desert of pebbles, where the Mason-bee builds her pretty
+turrets of rock-work, we come presently to the Sérignaise country; an arid,
+stony tract, planted with vines and olives, coloured a rusty red, or
+touched here and there with almost a hue of blood; and here and there a
+grove of cypress makes a sombre blot. To the north runs a long black line
+of hills, covered with box and ilex and the giant heather of the south. Far
+in the distance, to the east, the immense plain is closed in by the wall of
+Saint-Amant and the ridge of the Dentelle, behind which the lofty Ventoux
+rears its rocky, cloven bosom abruptly to the clouds. At the end of a few
+miles of dusty road, swept by the powerful breath of the mistral, we
+suddenly reach a little village. It is a curious little community, with its
+central street adorned by a double row of plane-trees, its leaping
+fountains, and its almost Italian air. The houses are lime-washed, with
+flat roofs; and sometimes, at the side of some small or decrepit dwelling,
+we see the unexpected curves of a loggia. At a distance the facade of the
+church has the harmonious lines of a little antique temple; close at hand
+is the graceful campanile, an old octagonal tower surmounted by a narrow
+mitre wrought in hammered iron, in the midst of which are seen the black
+profiles of the bells.
+
+I shall never forget my first visit. It was in the month of August; and the
+whole countryside was ringing with the song of the cicadae. I had applied
+to a job-master of Orange, counting on him to take me thither; but he had
+never driven any one to Sérignan, had hardly heard of Fabre, and did not
+know where his house was. At length, however, we contrived to find it. At
+the entrance of the little market-town, in a solitary corner, in the centre
+of an enclosure of lofty walls, which were taller than the crests of the
+pines and cypresses, his dwelling was hidden away. No sound proceeded from
+it; but for the baying of the faithful Tom I do not think I should have
+dared to knock on the great door, which turned slowly on its hinges. A pink
+house with green shutters, half-hidden amid the sombre foliage, appears at
+the end of an alley of lilacs, "which sway in the spring under the weight
+of their balmy thyrsi." Before the house are the shady plane-trees, where
+during the burning hours of August the cicada of the flowering ash, the
+deafening cacan, concealed beneath the leaves, fills the hot atmosphere
+with its eager cries, the only sound that disturbs the profound silence of
+this solitude.
+
+Before us, beyond a little wall of a height to lean upon, on an isolated
+lawn, beneath the shade of great trees with interwoven boughs, a circular
+basin displays its still surface, across which the skating Hydrometra
+traces its wide circles. Then, suddenly, we see an opening into the most
+extraordinary and unexpected of gardens; a wild park, full of strenuous
+vegetation, which hides the pebbly soil in all directions; a chaos of
+plants and bushes, created throughout especially to attract the insects of
+the neighbourhood.
+
+Thickets of wild laurel and dense clumps of lavender encroach upon the
+paths, alternating with great bushes of coronilla, which bar the flight of
+the butterfly with their yellow-winged flowers, and whose searching
+fragrance embalms all the air about them.
+
+It is as though the neighbouring mountain had one day departed, leaving
+here its thistles, its dogberry-trees, its brooms, its rushes, its juniper-
+bushes, its laburnums, and its spurges. There too grows the "strawberry
+tree," whose red fruits wear so familiar an appearance; and tall pines, the
+giants of this "pigmy forest." There the Japanese privet ripens its black
+berries, mingled with the Paulownia and the Cratoegus with their tender
+green foliage. Coltsfoot mingles with violets; clumps of sage and thyme mix
+their fragrance with the scent of rosemary and a host of balsamic plants.
+Amid the cacti, their fleshy leaves bristling with prickles, the periwinkle
+opens its scattered blossoms, while in a corner the serpent arum raises its
+cornucopia, in which those insects that love putrescence fall engulfed,
+deceived by the horrible savour of its exhalations.
+
+It is in the spring above all that one should see this torrent of verdure,
+when the whole enclosure awakens in its festival attire, decked with all
+the flowers of May, and the warm air, full of the hum of insects, is
+perfumed with a thousand intoxicating scents. It is in the spring that one
+should see the "Harmas," the open-air observatory, "the laboratory of
+living entomology" (6/1.); a name and a spot which Fabre has made famous
+throughout the world.
+
+I enter the dining-room, whose wide, half-closed shutters allow only a
+half-light to enter between the printed curtains. Rush-bottomed chairs, a
+great table, about which seven persons daily take their places, a few poor
+pieces of furniture, and a simple bookcase; such are all the contents. On
+the mantel, a clock in black marble, a precious souvenir, the only present
+which Fabre received at the time of his exodus from Avignon; it was given
+by his old pupils, the young girls who used to attend the free lectures at
+Saint-Martial's.
+
+There, every afternoon, half lying on a little sofa, the naturalist has the
+habit of taking a short siesta. This light repose, even without sleep, was
+of old enough to restore his energies, exhausted by hours of labour.
+Thenceforth he was once more alert, and ready for the remainder of the day.
+
+But already he is on his feet, bareheaded, in his waistcoat, his silk
+necktie carelessly fastened under the soft turned-down collar of his half-
+open shirt, his gesture, in the shadowy chamber, full of welcome.
+
+François Sicard, in his faultless medal and his admirable bust, has
+succeeded with rare felicity in reproducing for posterity this rugged,
+shaven face, full of laborious years; a peasant face, stamped with
+originality, under the wide felt hat of Provence; touched with geniality
+and benevolence, yet reflecting a world of energy. Sicard has fixed for
+ever this strange mask; the thin cheeks, ploughed into deep furrows, the
+strained nose, the pendent wrinkles of the throat, the thin, shrivelled
+lips, with an indescribable fold of bitterness at the corners of the mouth.
+The hair, tossed back, falls in fine curls over the ears, revealing a high,
+rounded forehead, obstinate and full of thought. But what chisel, what
+graver could reproduce the surprising shrewdness of that gaze, eclipsed
+from time to time by a convulsive tremor of the eyelids! What Holbein, what
+Chardin could render the almost extraordinary brilliance of those black
+eyes, those dilated pupils: the eyes of a prophet, a seer; singularly wide
+and deeply set, as though gazing always upon the mystery of things, as
+though made expressly to scrutinize Nature and decipher her enigmas? Above
+the orbits, two short, bristling eyebrows seem set there to guide the
+vision; one, by dint of knitting itself above the magnifying-glass, has
+retained an indelible fold of continual attention; the other, on the
+contrary, always updrawn, has the look of defying the interlocutor, of
+foreseeing his objections, of waiting with an ever-ready return-thrust.
+Such is this striking physiognomy, which one who has seen it cannot forget.
+
+There, in this "hermit's retreat," as he himself has defined it, the sage
+is voluntarily sequestered; a true saint of science, an ascetic living only
+on fruits, vegetables, and a little wine; so in love with retirement that
+even in the village he was for a long time almost unknown, so careful was
+he to go round instead of through it on his way to the neighbouring
+mountain, where he would often spend whole days alone with wild nature.
+
+It is in this silent Thebaïd, so far from the atmosphere of cities, the
+vain agitations and storms of the world, that his life has been passed, in
+unchanging uniformity; and here he has been able to pursue, with resolute
+labour and incredible patience, that prodigious series of marvellous
+observations which for nearly fifty years he has never ceased to
+accumulate.
+
+Let us indeed remember how much time has been required and what effort has
+been expended to complete the long and patient inquiries which he had
+hitherto accomplished; obliged, as he was, to allow himself to be
+interrupted at any moment, and to postpone his observations often at the
+most interesting moment, in order to undertake some enervating labour, or
+the disagreeable and mechanical duties of his profession. Remember that his
+first labours already dated from twenty-five years earlier, and at the
+moment when we observe him in his solitude at Sérignan he had only just
+painfully gathered together the material for his first book. What a
+contrast to the thirty fruitful years that were to follow! Now nearly ten
+volumes, no less overflowing with the richest material, were to succeed one
+another at almost regular intervals--about one in every three years.
+
+To be sure, he would have gathered his harvest in no matter what corner of
+the world, provided he had found within his reach, in whatever sphere of
+life he had been placed, any subject of inquiry whatever; such was
+Rousseau, botanizing over the bunch of chickweed provided for his canary;
+such was Bernardin Saint-Pierre, discovering a world in a strawberry-plant
+which had sprouted by chance at the corner of his window. (6/2.) But the
+field in which he had hitherto been able to glean was indeed barren. That
+he was able, later on, to narrate the wonderful history of the Pelopaeus,
+whose habits he had observed at Avignon, was due to the fact that this
+curious insect had come to lodge with him, having chosen Fabre's chamber
+for its dwelling. None the less he threw himself eagerly upon all such
+scraps of information as happened to come under his notice; witness the
+observations which he embodied in a memoir touching the phosphorescence of
+certain earth-worms which, abounding in a little courtyard near his
+dwelling, were so rare elsewhere that he was never again able to find them.
+(6/3.) It was therefore fortunate, if not for himself, at least for his
+genius, that he did not become, as he had wished, a professor in a faculty;
+there, to be sure, he would have found a theatre worthy of his efforts, in
+which he might even have demonstrated, in all its magnificence, his
+incomparable gift of teaching; but it is probable too that he would have
+been stranded in shoal waters; that in the official atmosphere of a city
+his still more marvellous gifts of observation would scarcely have found
+employment.
+
+It was only by belonging fully to himself that he could fruitfully exercise
+his talents. Necessary to every scholar, to every inquirer, to an open-air
+observer like Fabre liberty and leisure were more than usually essential;
+failing these he might never have accomplished his mission. How many lives
+are wasted, how many minds expended in sheer loss, in default of this
+sufficiency of leisure! How many scholars tied to the soil, how many
+physicians absorbed by an exigent practice, who perhaps had somewhat to
+say, have succeeded only in devising plans, for ever postponing their
+realization to some miraculous tomorrow, which always recedes!
+
+But we must not fall into illusions. How many might be tempted to imitate
+him, hoping to see some unknown talent awaken or expand within them, only
+to find themselves incapable of producing anything, and to consume
+themselves in an insurmountable and barren ennui! One must be rich in one's
+own nature, rich in will and in ability, to live apart and seek new paths
+in solitude, and it is not without reason that the majority prefer the
+turmoil of cities and the murmur of men to the silence of the country.
+
+The atmosphere of a great capital, for instance, is singularly conducive to
+work. Living constantly within the circle of light shed by the masters,
+within reach of the laboratories and the great libraries, we are less
+likely to go astray; we are stimulated by the contact of others; we profit
+by their advice and experience; and it is easy to borrow ideas if we lack
+them. Then there is the stimulant of self-respect, the sense of rivalry,
+the eager desire to advance, to distinguish oneself, to shine, to attract
+attention, to become in one's turn an arbiter, an object of wonder and
+envy, without which stimulus many would merely have existed, and would
+never have become what they are.
+
+On the other hand, a man needs an intrinsic radio-activity, and a real
+talent; and the aid, moreover, of exceptional circumstances, if fame is to
+consent to come to him and take him by the hand in the depths of some
+unknown Maillane, some obscure Sérignan; even, as in the case of Fabre, at
+the end only of a long life.
+
+But he, by a kind of fatality inherent in his nature, loved "to
+circumscribe himself," according to the happy expression of Rousseau; and
+he profited, rather than otherwise, by living entirely to himself; for he
+had long been, indeed he always was, the man who, at twenty-five, writing
+to his brother, had said, in speaking of his native countryside:
+
+"For a impassioned botanist, it is a delightful country, in which I could
+pass a month, two months, three months, a year even, alone, quite alone,
+with no other companion than the crows and the jays which gossip among the
+oak-trees; without being weary for a moment; there would be so many
+beautiful fungi, orange, rosy, and white, among the mosses, and so many
+flowers in the fields." (6/4.)
+
+His work having brought him at last just enough to enable him to give
+himself the pleasure of becoming, in his turn, a proprietor, he had
+acquired, for a modest sum, this dilapidated dwelling and this deserted
+spot of ground; barren land, given over to couch-grass, thistles, and
+brambles; a sort of "accursed spot, to which no one would have confided
+even a pinch of turnip-seed." A piece of water in front of the house
+attracted all the frogs in the neighbourhood; the screech-owl mewed from
+the tops of the plane-trees, and numerous birds, no longer disturbed by the
+presence of man, had domiciled themselves in the lilacs and the cypresses.
+A host of insects had seized upon the dwelling, which had long been
+deserted.
+
+He restored the house, and to some extent reduced confusion to order. In
+the uncultivated and pebbly plain where the plough had been long a stranger
+he established plants of a thousand varieties, and, the better to hide
+himself, he had walls built to shut himself in.
+
+Why was he drawn by preference to this village of Sérignan?--for he did not
+go thither without making some inquiries as to the possibility of obtaining
+shelter elsewhere, and the Carpentras cemetery had tempted him also; but
+what had particularly seduced and drawn him thither was the nearness of the
+mountain with its Mediterranean flora, so rich that it recalled the
+Corsican maquis; full of beautiful fungi and varied insects, where, under
+the flat stones exposed to the burning sun, the centipede burrowed and the
+scorpion slept; where a special fauna abounded--of curious dung-beetles,
+scarabaei, the Copris, the Minotaur, etc.--which only a little farther
+north grow rapidly scarcer and then altogether disappear.
+
+He had thus at last arrived in port; he had found his "Eden."
+
+He had realized, "after forty years of desperate struggles," the dearest,
+the most ardent, the longest cherished of all his desires. He could observe
+at leisure "every day, every hour," his beloved insects; "under the blue
+sky, to the music of the cigales." He had only to open his eyes and to see;
+to lend an ear and hear; to enjoy the great blessing of leisure to his
+heart's content.
+
+Doffing the professor's frock-coat for the peasant's blouse, planting a
+root of sweet basil in his "topper," and finally kicking it to pieces, he
+snapped his fingers at his past life.
+
+Liberated at last, far from all that could irritate or disturb him or make
+him feel dependent, satisfied with his modest earnings, reassured by the
+ever-increasing popularity of his little books, he had obtained entire
+possession of his own body and mind, and could give himself without reserve
+to his favourite subjects.
+
+So, with Nature and her inexhaustible book before him, he truly commenced a
+new life.
+
+But would this life have been possible without the support and comfort of
+those intimate feelings which are at the root of human nature? Man is
+seldom the master of these feelings, and they, with reason or despite
+reason, force themselves on his notice as the question of questions.
+
+This delicate problem Fabre had to resolve after suffering a fresh grief.
+Hardly had he commenced to enjoy the benefits of this profound peace, when
+he lost his wife. At this moment his children were already grown up; some
+were married and some ready to leave him; and he could not hope much longer
+to keep his old father, the ex-café-keeper of Pierrelatte, who had come to
+rejoin him; and who might be seen, even in his extreme old age, going forth
+in all weathers and dragging his aged limbs along all the roads of
+Sérignan. (6/5.) The son, moreover, had inherited from his father his
+profound inaptitude for the practical business of life, and was equally
+incapable of managing his interests and the economics of the house. This is
+why, after two years of widowerhood, having already passed his sixtieth
+year, although still physically quite youthful, he remarried. Careless of
+opinion, obeying only the dictates of his own heart and mind, and following
+also the intuitions of unerring instinct, which was superior to the
+understanding of those who thought it their duty to oppose him, he married,
+as Boaz married Ruth, a young woman, industrious, full of freshness and
+life, already completely devoted to his service, and admirably fitted to
+satisfy that craving for order, peace, quiet, and moral tranquillity, which
+to him were above all things indispensable.
+
+His new companion, moreover, was in all things faithful to her mission, and
+it was thanks to the benefits of this union, as the future was to show,
+that Fabre was in a position to pursue his long-delayed inquiries.
+
+Three children, a son and two daughters, were born in swift succession, and
+reconstituted "the family," which was very soon increased by the youngest
+of his daughters by his first wife, who had not married; this was that
+Aglaë, who so often helped her father with her childlike attentions, and,
+"her cheek blooming with animation," collaborated in some of his most
+famous observations (6/6.); an unobtrusive figure, a soul full of devotion
+and resignation, heroic and tender. Having in vain ventured into the world,
+she had returned to the beloved roof at Sérignan, unable to part from the
+father she so admired and adored.
+
+Later, when the shadow of age grew denser and heavier, the young wife and
+the younger children of the famous poet-entomologist took part in his
+labours also; they gave him their material assistance, their hands, their
+eyes, their hearing, their feet; he in the midst of them was the
+conceiving, reasoning, interpreting, and directing brain.
+
+>From this time forward the biography of Fabre becomes simplified, and
+remains a statement of his inner life. For thirty years he never emerged
+from his horizon of mountains and his garden of shingle; he lived wholly
+absorbed in domestic affections and the tasks of a naturalist. None the
+less, he still exercised his vocation as teacher, for neither pure science
+nor poetry was sufficient to nourish his mind, and he was still Professor
+Fabre, untiringly pursuing his programme of education, although no longer
+applying himself thereto exclusively.
+
+This long active period was also the most silent period of his life,
+although not an hour, not a minute of his many days was left unoccupied.
+
+In the first few months at his new home he resumed his hymn to labour.
+
+"You will learn in your turn," he writes to his son Émile, "you will learn,
+I hope, that we are never so happy as when work does not leave us a
+moment's repose. To act is to live." (6/7.)
+
+The better to belong to himself, he eluded all invitations, even those from
+his nearest or most intimate friends; he hated to go away even for a few
+hours, preferring to enjoy in his own house their presence amidst his
+habitual and delightful surroundings. Everything in this still unexplored
+country was new to him. What would he do elsewhere, even in his beloved
+Carpentras, whither his faithful friend and pupil Devillario, who had
+formerly followed him in his walks around Avignon, would endeavour from
+time to time to draw him? Devillario was a magistrate, a collector and
+palaeontologist; his simple tastes, his wide culture, and his passion for
+natural history would surely have decided Fabre to accept his invitations,
+but that he forbade himself the pleasure. "I am afraid the hospitable
+cutlet that awaits me at your table will have time to grow cold; I am up to
+the neck in my work (6/8.)...But you, when you can, escape from your
+courts, and we will philosophize at random, as is our custom when we can
+manage to pass a few hours together. As for me, it is very doubtful whether
+the temptation will seize me to come to Carpentras. A hermit of the Thebaïd
+was no more diligent in his cell than I in my village home." (6/9.)
+
+
+CHAPTER 7. THE INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.
+
+Was there not indeed a sufficiency of captivating matters all about him,
+and beneath his very feet?
+
+In his deep, sunny garden a thousand insects fly, creep, crawl, and hum,
+and each relates its history to him. A golden gardener-beetle trots along
+the path. Rose-beetles pass, in snoring flight, on every hand, the gold and
+emerald of their elytra gleaming; now and again one of them alights for a
+moment on the flowering head of a thistle; he seizes it carefully with the
+tips of his nervous, pointed fingers, seems to caress it, speaks to it, and
+then suddenly restores it to freedom.
+
+Wasps are pillaging the centauries. On the blossoms of the camomile the
+larvae of the Meloë are waiting for the Anthophorae to carry them off to
+their cells, while around them roam the Cicindelae, their green bodies
+"spotted with points of amaranth." At the bottom of the walls "the chilly
+Psyche creeps slowly along under her cloak of tiny twigs." In the dead
+bough of a lilac-tree the dark-hued Xylocopa, the wood-boring bee, is busy
+tunnelling her gallery. In the shade of the rushes the Praying Mantis,
+rustling the floating robe of her long tender green wings, "gazes alertly,
+on the watch, her arms folded on her breast, her appearance that of one
+praying," and paralyses the great grey locust, nailed to its place by fear.
+
+Nothing here is insignificant; what the world would smile at or deride will
+provide the sage with food for thought and reflection. "Nothing is trivial
+in the majestic problem of nature; our laboratory acquaria are of less
+value than the imprint which the shoe of a mule has left in the clay, when
+the rain has filled the primitive basin, and life has peopled it with
+marvels"; and the least fact offered us by chance on the most thoroughly
+beaten track may possibly open prospects as vast as all the starry sky.
+
+Tell yourself that everything in nature is a symbol of something like a
+specimen of an abstruse cryptogram, all the characters of which conceal
+some meaning. But when we have succeeded in deciphering these living texts,
+and have grasped the allusion; when, beside the symbol, we have succeeded
+in finding the commentary, then the most desolate corner of the earth
+appears to the solitary seeker as a gallery full of the masterpieces of an
+unsuspected art. Fabre puts into our hands the golden key which opens the
+doors of this marvellous museum.
+
+Let us consider the terebinth louse; it is just a little yellow mite; but
+is it nothing else? Its genealogical history teaches us "by what amazing
+essays of passion and variety the universal law which rules the
+transmission of life is evolved. Here is neither father nor eggs; all these
+mites are mothers; and the young are born living, just like their mothers."
+To this end "almost the whole of the maternal substance is disintegrated
+and renewed and conglobated to form the ovarium...the whole creature has
+become an egg, which has, for its shell, the dry skin of the tiny creature,
+and the microscope will show a whole world in formation...a nebulosity as
+of white of egg, in which fresh centres of life are forming, as the suns
+are condensed in the nebulae of the heavens." (7/1.)
+
+What is this fleck of foam, like a drop of saliva, which we see in
+springtime on the weeds of the meadows; among others on the spurge, when
+its stems begin to shoot, and its sombre flowers open in the sunlight? "It
+is the work of an insect. It is the shelter in which the Cicadellina
+deposits her eggs. What a miraculous chemist! Her stiletto excels the
+finest craft of the botanical anatomist" by its sovereign art of separating
+the acrid poison which flows with the sap in the veins of the most venomous
+plants, and extracting therefrom only an inoffensive fluid. (7/2.)
+
+At every step the insects set us problems equally varied. The other
+creatures are nearer to us; they resemble us in many respects. But insects,
+almost the first-born of creation, form a world apart, and contain, in
+their tiny bodies, as Réaumur has admirably said, "more parts than the most
+gigantic animals." They have senses and faculties of their own, which
+enable them to accomplish actions, which are doubtless very simply related
+in reality, but which seem, to our minds, as extraordinary as the habits of
+the inhabitants of Mars might, if by chance they were to descend in our
+midst. We do not know how they hear, nor how they see through their
+compound eyes, and our ignorance concerning the majority of their senses
+still further increases the difficulty, which so often arrests us, of
+interpreting their actions.
+
+The tubercled Cerceris "finds by the hundred" and almost immediately a
+species of weevil, the Cleona ophthalmica, on which it feeds its larvae,
+and which the human eye, though it searches for hours, can scarcely find
+anywhere. The eyes of the Cerceris are like magnifying glasses, veritable
+microscopes, which immediately distinguish, in the vast field of nature, an
+object that human vision is powerless to discover. (7/3.)
+
+How does the Ammophila, hovering over the turf and investigating it far and
+wide, in its search for a grey grub, contrive to discern the precise point
+in the depth of the subsoil where the larva is slumbering in immobility?
+"Neither touch nor sight can come into play, for the grub is sealed up in
+its burrow at a depth of several inches; nor the scent, since it is
+absolutely inodorous; nor the hearing, since its immobility is absolute
+during the daytime." (7/4.)
+
+The Processional caterpillar of the pine-trees, "endowed with an exquisite
+hygrometric sensibility," is a barometer more infallible than that of the
+physicists. "It foresees the tempests preparing afar, at enormous
+distances, almost in the other hemisphere," and announces them several days
+before the least sign of them appears on the horizon. (7/5.)
+
+A wild bee, the Chalicodoma, and a wasp, the Cerceris, carried in the dark
+far from their familiar pastures, to a distance of several miles, and
+released in spots which they have never seen, cross vast and unknown spaces
+with absolute certainty, and regain their nests; even after long absence,
+and in spite of contrary winds and the most unexpected obstacles. It is not
+memory that guides them, but a special faculty whose astonishing results we
+must admit without attempting to explain them, so far removed are they from
+our own psychology. (7/6.) But here is another example:
+
+The Greater Peacock moths cross hills and valleys in the darkness, with a
+heavy flight of wings spotted with inexplicable hieroglyphics. They hasten
+from the remotest depths of the horizon to find their "sleeping beauties,"
+drawn thereto by unknown odours, inappreciable by our senses, yet so
+penetrating that the branch of almond on which the female has perched, and
+which she has impregnated with her effluvium, exerts the same extraordinary
+attraction. (7/7.)
+
+Considering these creatures, we end by discovering more things than are
+contained in all the philosophies...if we know how to look for them.
+
+Among so many unimaginable phenomena, which bewilder us, "because there is
+nothing analogous in us," we succeed in perceiving, here and there, a few
+glimpses of day, which suddenly throw a singular light upon this black
+labyrinth, in which the least secret we can surprise "enters perhaps more
+directly into the profound enigma of our ends and our origins than the
+secret of the most urgent and most closely studied of our passions." (7/8.)
+
+Fabre explains by hypnosis one of those curious facts which have hitherto
+been so poorly interpreted. When surprised by abnormal conditions, we see
+insects suddenly fall over, drop to the ground, and lie as though struck by
+lightning, gathering their limbs under their bodies. A shock, an unexpected
+odour, a loud noise, plunges them instantly into a sort of lethargy, more
+or less prolonged. The insect "feigns death," not because it simulates
+death, but in reality because this MAGNETIC condition resembles that of
+death. (7/9.) Now the Odynerus, the Anthidium, the Eucera, the Ammophila,
+and all the hymenoptera which Fabre has observed sleeping at the fall of
+night, "suspended in space solely by the strength of their mandibles, their
+bodies tense, their limbs retracted, without exhaustion or collapse"; and
+the larva of the Empusa, "which for some ten months hangs to a twig by its
+limbs, head downwards": do not these present a surprising analogy with
+those hypnotized persons who possess the faculty of remaining fixed in the
+most painful poses, and of supporting the most unusual attitudes, for an
+extremely long time; for instance, with one arm extended, or one foot
+raised from the ground, without appearing to experience the least fatigue,
+and with a persevering and unfaltering energy? (7/10.)
+
+That the ex-schoolmaster was able to penetrate so far into this new world,
+and that he has been able to interest us in so many fascinating problems,
+was due to the fact that he had also "taken a wide bird's-eye view through
+all the windows of creation." His universal capabilities, his immense
+culture and almost encyclopaedic science have enabled him to utilize,
+thanks to his studies, all the knowledge allied to his subject. He is not
+one of those who understand only their speciality and who, knowing nothing
+outside their own province and their particular labours, refuse to grasp at
+anything beyond the narrow limits within which they stand installed.
+
+All plants are to him so familiar that the flowers, for him, assume the
+airs of living persons. But without a profound knowledge of botany, who
+would hope to grasp the profound, perpetual, and intimate relations of the
+plant and the insect?
+
+He has turned over strata and interrogated the schistous deposits, whose
+archives preserve the forms of vanished organizations, but "keep silence as
+to the origin of the instincts." Bending over his reagents, he has sought
+to discover, according to the phrase of a philosopher, those secret
+retreats in which Nature is seated before her furnaces, in the depths of
+her laboratory; following up the metamorphoses of matter even to the wings
+of the Scarabaei, and observing how life, returning to her crucible the
+debris and ashes of the organism, combines the elements anew, and from the
+elements of the urine can derive, for example, by a simple displacement of
+molecules, "all this dazzling magic of colours of innumerable shades: the
+amethystine violet of Geotrupes, the emerald of the rose-beetle, the gilded
+green of the Cantharides, the metallic lustre of the gardener-beetles, and
+all the pomp of the Buprestes and the dung-beetles." (7/11.)
+
+His books are steeped in all the ideas of modern physics. The highest
+mathematical knowledge has been referred to with profit in his marvellous
+description of the hunting-net of the Epeïra. Whose "terribly scientific"
+combinations realize "the spiral logarithm of the geometers, so curious in
+its properties" (7/12.); a splendid observation, in which Fabre makes us
+admire, in the humble web of a spider, a masterpiece as astonishing and
+incomprehensible as and even more sublime than the honeycomb.
+
+This explains why Fabre has always energetically denied that he is properly
+speaking an entomologist; and indeed the term appears often wrongly to
+describe him. He loves, on the contrary, to call himself a naturalist; that
+is, a biologist; biology being, by definition, the study of living
+creatures considered as a whole and from every point of view. And as
+nothing in life is isolated, as all things hold together, and as each part,
+in all its relations, presents itself to the gaze of the observer under
+innumerable aspects, one cannot be a true naturalist without being at the
+same time a philosopher.
+
+But it is not enough to know and to observe.
+
+To be admitted to the spectacle of these tiny creatures, to become familiar
+with their habits, to grasp the mysterious threads which connect them one
+with another and with the vast universe: for this the cold and deliberate
+vision of the specialist would often be insufficient. There is an art of
+observation, and the gift of observation is a true function of that
+constantly alert intelligence, continually dominated by the need of delving
+untiringly down to the ultimate truth accessible, "allowing ourselves to
+pass over nothing without seeking its reason, and habitually following up
+every response with another question, until we come to the granite wall of
+the Unknowable." Above all we need an ardent and interested sympathy, for
+"we penetrate farther into the secret of things by the heart than by the
+reason," as Toussenel has said; and "it is only by intuition that we can
+know what life truly is," adds Bergson profoundly. (7/13.) Now Fabre loves
+these little peoples and knows how to make us love them. How tenderly he
+speaks of them; with what solicitude he observes them; with what love he
+follows the progress of their nurslings; the young grubs wriggling in his
+test-tubes, with doddering heads, are happy; and he himself is happy to see
+them "well-fed and shining with health." He pities the bee stabbed by the
+Philanthus "in the holy joys of labour." He sympathizes with the sufferings
+of these little creatures and their hard labours. If, in his search for
+ideas, he has to overturn their dwellings, "he repents of subjecting
+maternal love to such tribulations," and if he is constrained to put them
+to the question, to torment them in order to extract their secrets, he is
+grieved to have provoked "such miseries!" (7/14.) Having provided for their
+needs, and satisfied with the secrets which they have revealed to him, it
+is not without regret and difficulty that he parts from them and restores
+them "to the delights of liberty."
+
+He is thoroughly convinced, moreover, that all the creatures that share the
+face of the earth with us are accomplishing an august and appointed task.
+He welcomes the swallows to his dwelling, even surrendering his workroom to
+them, at the risk of jeopardizing his notes and books. He pleads for the
+frog, and applies himself to setting forth his unknown qualities; he
+rehabilitates the bat, the hedgehog, and the screech-owl, persecuted,
+defamed, crushed, stoned, and crucified! (7/15.)
+
+So intimate is the life which he leads among them all that he makes himself
+truly their companion, and relates his own history in narrating theirs;
+pleased to discover in their joys and sorrows his own trials and delights;
+mingling in their annals his memories and his impressions; delightful
+fragments of a childlike autobiography, encrusted in his learned work;
+moving and delightful pages in which all the ingenuity of this noble mind
+reveals itself with a touching sincerity, in which all the freshness of
+this charming and so profoundly unworldly nature is seen as through a pure
+crystal.
+
+There is no real communion with nature without sentiment, without an
+illuminating passion: often the sole and effectual grace which enables its
+true meaning to appear. Neither taste, nor intelligence, nor logic, nor all
+the science of the schools can suffice alone. To see further there is
+needed something like a gift of correspondence, surpassing the limits of
+observation and experience, which enables us to foresee and to divine the
+profound secrets of life which lie beneath appearances. Those who are so
+gifted have often only to open their eyes in order to grasp matters in
+their true light.
+
+A great observer is in reality a poet who imagines and creates. The
+microscope, the magnifying glass, the scalpel, are as it were the strings
+of a lyre. "The felicitous and fruitful hypothesis which constitutes
+scientific invention is a gift of sentiment" in the words of Claude
+Bernard; and of this king of physiology, who commenced by proving himself
+in works of pure imagination, and whose genius finally took for its theme
+the manifold variations of living flesh, of him too may we not say that he
+has explored the labyrinths of life with "the torch of poetry in his hand"?
+
+Similarly, do not the harmonious sequences which run through all the
+admirable discoveries of Pasteur give us the sensation of a veritable and
+gigantic poem?
+
+In Fabre also it seems that the passion which he brings to all his patient
+observations is in itself truly creative: "his heart beats with emotion,
+the sweat drips from his brow to the soil, making mortar of the dust"; he
+forgets food and drink, and "thus passes hours of oblivion in the happiness
+of learning." I have seen him in his laboratory studying the spawning of
+the bluebottle, when I, at his side, could scarcely support the horrible
+stench which rose from the putrefying adders and lumps of meat; he,
+however, was oblivious of the frightful odour, and his face was inundated
+with smiles of delight.
+
+Intelligence, then, must here be the servant of feeling and intuition; a
+kind of primitive faculty, mysterious and instinctive, which alone makes a
+great naturalist like Fabre, a great historian like Michelet, a great
+physician like Boherhaave or Bretonneau.
+
+These last are not always the most scholarly nor the most learned nor the
+most patient, but they are those who possess in a high degree that special
+vision, that gift, properly speaking poetic, which is known as the clinical
+eye, which at the first glance perceives and confirms the diagnosis in all
+its detail.
+
+Fabre has a mind propitious to such processes; and if, by chance,
+circumstances had directed his attention to medicine, that science which is
+based upon an abundant provision of facts, but in which good sense and a
+kind of divination play a still wider part, there is no doubt that he would
+have been capable of becoming a shining light in this new arena.
+
+He was full of admiration for that other illustrious Vauclusian, François
+Raspail (7/16.), whose medical genius anticipated Pasteur and all the
+conceptions of modern medicine. It would seem that he found in him his own
+temper, his own fashion of seeing and representing things. He loved
+Raspail's books and his prescriptions, full of reason and a most judicious
+good sense, distrusting for himself and for his family the complicated
+formulae and cunning remedies of an art too considered and still unproved.
+At Carpentras, while his first-born, Émile, was hovering between life and
+death, and the physician who came to see him, "being at the end of his
+resources," did nothing more for him and soon ceased to come, thinking that
+the child would not last till the morrow, Fabre flew to the works of
+Raspail.
+
+"I searched to discover what his malady was. I found it, and he was treated
+day and night accordingly. To-day he is convalescent; and his appetite has
+returned. I believe he is saved, and I shall say, like Ambroise Paré, 'I
+have nursed him; God has cured him.'" (7/17.)
+
+The episode which he relates, when, at the primary school of Avignon, a
+retort had just burst, "spurting in all directions its contents of
+vitriol," right in the midst of the suddenly interrupted chemistry lesson,
+and when, thanks to his prompt action, he saved the sight of one of his
+comrades, does honour to his initiative and presence of mind. (7/18.)
+
+While "all physicians should bow before the facts which he excels in
+discovering" (7/19.), he has also been able to make direct application of
+the marvels of entomology to some of the problems of hygiene and medicine.
+He has shown that the irritant poison secreted by certain caterpillars,
+"which sets the fingers which handle them on fire," is nothing but a waste
+product of the organism, a derivative of uric acid; he does not hesitate to
+perform painful experiments on himself in order to furnish the proof of his
+theory; and he explains thus the curious cases of dermatitis which are
+often observed among silkworm-breeders. (7/20.) He proves the uselessness
+of our meat-safes of metallic gauze, intended to preserve meat against
+contamination, and the efficacy of a mere envelope of paper, not only to
+preserve meat from flies, but also our garments from the clothes-moth.
+(7/21.) He recommends the curious Provençal recipe, which consists in
+boiling suspected mushrooms in salt and water before eating them. Finally
+he suggests to members of the medical profession that they might perhaps
+extract heroic remedies from these treacherous vegetables. (7/22.)
+
+He had need of that indefinite leisure which had hitherto been so wholly
+lacking, for the events of ephemeral lives occur at indeterminate hours, at
+unexpected moments, and are of brief duration.
+
+So, attentive to their least movements, Fabre goes forth to observe them at
+the earliest break of day, in the red dawn, when the bee "pops her head out
+of her attic window to see what the weather is," and the spiders of the
+thickets lie in wait under the whorls of their nets, "which the tears of
+night have changed into chaplets of dewdrops, whose magic jewellery,
+sparkling in the sun," is already attracting moths and midges.
+
+Seated for hours before a sprig of terebinth, his eye, armed with the
+magnifying glass, follows the slow manoeuvres of the terebinth louse, whose
+proboscis "cunningly distils the venom which causes the leaf to swell and
+produces those enormous tumours, those misshapen and monstrous galls, in
+which the young pass their period of slumber."
+
+He watches at night, by the dim light of a lantern, to copy the Scolopendra
+at her task, seeking to surprise the secret of her eggs (7/23.); to observe
+the Cione constructing her capsule of goldbeater's skin, or the
+Processional caterpillars travelling head to tail along their satin trail,
+extinguishing his candle only when sleep at last sets his eyelids blinking.
+He will wake early to witness the fairy-like resurrection of the silkworm
+moth (7/24.); "in order not to lose the moment when the nymph bursts her
+swaddling-bands," or when the wing of the locust issues from its sheath and
+"commences to sprout"; no spectacle in the world is more wonderful than the
+sight of "this extraordinary anatomy in process of formation," the
+unrolling of these "bundles of tissue, cunningly folded and reduced to the
+smallest possible compass" in the insignificant alar stumps, which
+gradually unfold "like an immense set of sails," like the "body-linen of
+the princess" of the fairy-tale, which was contained in one single hemp-
+seed. (7/25.)
+
+In his Harmas he is like a stranger discovering an unknown world; "like a
+kindly giant from Sirius, holding a magnifying glass to his eye, retaining
+his breath, lest it should overturn and sweep away the pigmies which he is
+observing."
+
+His passion for interrogating the Sphinx of life, everywhere and at all
+moments, sufficed to fill his days from one end of the year to the other.
+When some distant subject interested him, even on the most scorching days,
+he would put "his lunch in his pocket, an apple and a crust of bread," and
+sit out in the hot sunlight, accompanied by his dog, Vasco, Tom, or Rabbit;
+fearing only that some importunate third person might come between nature
+and himself.
+
+When he walked in his garden he would let nothing escape him; witness those
+precise notes of an eclipse of the sun, and of the effects which that
+phenomenon produces upon animal life as a whole.
+
+While his children followed the progress of the moon across the sun through
+a pane of smoked glass, he attentively observed all that occurred in the
+countryside.
+
+"It is four; the day grows pale; the temperature is fresher; the cocks
+crow, surprised by this kind of twilight which comes before the hour. A few
+dogs are baying...The swallows, numerous before, have all disappeared...a
+couple have taken refuge in my study, one window of which is open...when
+the normal light returns they will come outdoors once more...The
+nightingale, which had so long importuned me by his interminable song, is
+silent at last (7/26.); the black-capped skylarks, which were warbling
+continually, are suddenly still...only the young house-sparrows under the
+tiles of the roof are mournfully chirping...Peace and silence, the daylight
+more than half gone...In the Harmas I can no longer see the insects flying;
+I find only one bee pillaging the rosemary; all life has disappeared.
+
+"Only a weevil, the Lixus," which he is observing in a cage, "continues,
+step by step, without the slightest emotion, his amorous by-play, as though
+nothing unusual were happening...The nightingale and the skylark may be
+silent, oppressed by fear; the bee may re-enter her hive; but is a weevil
+to be upset because the sun threatens to go out?" (7/27.)
+
+He was no less curious concerning the resurrection of the sun, and every
+time he made an excursion to the Ventoux he was careful not to miss this
+spectacle; setting out at an early hour from the foot of the mountain, so
+that he might see the dawn grow bright from the summit of its rocky mass;
+then the sun, suddenly rising in the morning breeze, and setting fire,
+little by little, to the Alps of Dauphiné and the hills of Comtat; and the
+Rhône, far below, slender as a silver thread.
+
+He took infinite pleasure too in drinking his fill of the sublime terrors
+of the thunderstorm, which he regarded as one of the most magnificent
+spectacles which nature can offer; not content with observing it through
+glass, he would open wide the windows at night the better to enjoy the
+phosphorescence of the atmosphere, the conflagration of the clouds, the
+bursts of thunder, and all the solemn pomp with which the great purifying
+phenomenon manifests itself.
+
+But pure observation, as practised by his predecessors, Réaumur and Huber,
+is often insufficient, or "furnishes only a glimpse of matters."
+
+He had recourse, therefore, to artificial observation of the kind known as
+experimentation, and we may say that Fabre was really the first to employ
+the experimental method in the study of the minds of animals.
+
+Near the field of observation, therefore, is the naturalist's workshop,
+"the animal laboratory," in which such inductions as may be suggested by
+the doings and the movements of the insects "which roam at liberty amidst
+the thyme and lavender" are subjected to the test of experiment. It is a
+great, silent, isolated room, brilliantly lighted by two windows facing
+south, upon the garden, one at least of which is always kept open that the
+insects may come and go at liberty.
+
+In the glass-topped boxes of pine which occupy almost the entire height of
+the whitewashed walls are carefully arranged the collections so patiently
+amassed; all the entomological fauna of the South of France, and the sea-
+shells of the Mediterranean; an abundant wealth also of divers rarities;
+numismatical treasures and fragments of pottery and other prehistorical
+documents, of which the numerous ossuaries in the neighbourhood of
+Sérignan, scattered here and there upon the hills, contain many specimens.
+
+At the top, crowning the facade of glass-topped cases like an immense
+frieze, is the colossal herbarium, the first volumes of which go back to
+the early youth of their owner; all the flora, both of the Midi and the
+North, those of the plains and those of the mountains, and all the algae of
+fresh and salt water.
+
+But it must not be supposed that Fabre attaches any great value to these
+collections, enormous though the sum of labour which they represent. To him
+they have been a means of education, a means of organizing and arranging
+his knowledge, and not of satisfying an idle curiosity; not the amusement
+of one content with the rind of things. In order to identify at first sight
+such specimens as one encounters and proposes to examine, one must first of
+all learn to observe and to see thoroughly, and to school the eyes in the
+colours and forms peculiar to each individual species.
+
+One may fairly complain of Réaumur, for example, that his knowledge was
+uncertain and incomplete. Too often he leaves his readers undecided as to
+the nature of the species whose habits he describes. Fabre himself, by dint
+of criticizing with so much humour the abuse of classifications, has
+sometimes allowed himself to fall into the same fault. (7/28.) He has taken
+good care, however, not to neglect the systematic study of species; witness
+his "Flora of the Vaucluse" and that careful catalogue of Avignon which he
+has not disdained to republish. (7/29.) The truth is that "if we do not
+know their names the knowledge of the things escapes us" (7/30.), and he
+was profoundly conscious of the truth of this precept of the great
+Linnaeus.
+
+The middle of the room is entirely occupied by a great table of walnut-
+wood, on which are arranged bottles, test-tubes, and old sardine-boxes,
+which Fabre employs in order to watch the evolution of a thousand nameless
+or doubtful eggs, to observe the labours of their larvae, the creation and
+the hatching of cocoons, and the little miracles of metamorphosis, "after a
+germination more wonderful than that of the acorn which makes the oak."
+
+Covers of metallic gauze resting on earthenware saucers full of sand, a few
+carboys and flower-pots or sweetmeat jars closed with a square of glass;
+these serve as observation or experimental cages in which the progress and
+the actions of "these tiny living machines" can be examined.
+
+Fabre has revealed himself as a psychologist without rival, of a consummate
+skill in the difficult and delicate art of experimentation; the art of
+making the insect speak, of putting questions to it, of forcing it to
+betray its secrets; for experiment is "the only method which can throw any
+light upon the nature of instincts."
+
+His resources being slender and his mind inventive, he has ingeniously
+supplemented the poverty of his equipment, and has discovered less costly
+and less complex means of conducting his experiments; knowing the secret of
+extracting the sublimest truth from clumsy combinations of "trivial,
+peasant-made articles."
+
+He has succeeded, in his rustic laboratory, in applying the rigorous rules
+of investigation and experimentation established by the great biologists.
+He has therefore been able to establish his beautiful observations in a
+manner so indisputable that those who come after him and are tempted to
+study the same things can but arrive at the same results, and derive
+inspiration from his researches.
+
+To note with care all the details of a phenomenon is the first essential,
+so that others may afterwards refer to them and profit by them; the
+difficult thing is to interpret them, to discover the circumstances, the
+whys and wherefores, the consequences, and the connecting links.
+
+But a single fact observed by chance at the wayside, and which would not
+even attract the attention of another, will be instantly luminous to this
+searching understanding, it will suggest questions unforeseen, and will
+evoke, by anticipation, preconceived ideas and sudden flashes of intuition,
+which will necessitate the test of experiment.
+
+Why, for example, does the Philanthus, that slender wasp, which captures
+the honey-bee upon the blossoms in order to feed her larvae; why, before
+she carries her prey to her offspring, does she "outrage the dying insect,"
+by squeezing its crop in order to empty it of honey, in which she appears
+to delight, and does indeed actually delight?
+
+"The bandit greedily takes in her mouth the extended and sugared tongue of
+the dead insect; then once more she presses the neck and the thorax, and
+once more applies the pressure of her abdomen to the honey-sac of the bee.
+The honey oozes forth and is instantly licked up. Thus the bee is gradually
+compelled to disgorge the contents of the crop. This atrocious meal lasts
+often half an hour and longer, until the last trace of honey has
+disappeared."
+
+The detailed answer is obtained by experiment, which perfectly explains
+this "odious feast," the excuse for which is simply maternity. The
+Philanthus knows, instinctively, without having learned it, that honey,
+which is her ordinary fare, is, by a very singular "inversion," a mortal
+poison to her larvae. (7/31.)
+
+As an accomplished physiologist, Fabre conducts all kinds of experiments.
+Behind the wires of his cages, he provokes the moving spectacle of the
+scorpion at grip with the whole entomological fauna, in order to test the
+effects of its terrible venom upon various species; and thus he discovers
+the strange immunity of larvae; the virus, "the reagent of a transcendent
+chemistry, distinguishes the flesh of the larva from that of the adult; it
+is harmless to the former, but mortal to the latter"; a fresh proof that
+"metamorphosis modifies the substance of the organism to the point of
+changing its most intimate properties." (7/32.)
+
+You may judge from this that he knows through and through the history of
+the creatures which form the subjects of his faithful narratives. He is
+informed of the smallest events of their lives. He possesses a calendar of
+their births; he records their chronology and the succession of
+generations; he has noted their methods of work, examined their diet, and
+recorded their meals. He discovers the motives which dictate their
+peculiarities of choice; why the Cerceris, for instance, among all the
+victims at its disposal, never selects anything but the Buprestis and the
+weevils. He is familiar too with their tactics of warfare and their methods
+of conflict.
+
+His gaze has penetrated even the most hidden dwellings; those in which the
+Halictus "varnishes her cells and makes the round loaf which is to receive
+the egg"; in which, under the cover of cocoons, murderous grubs devour
+slumbering nymphs; even the depths of the soil are not hidden from him, for
+there, thanks to his artifices, he has surprised the astonishing secret of
+the Minotaur.
+
+He sifts all doubtful stories; anecdotes, statements of supposed habits;
+all that is incoherent, or ill observed, or misinterpreted; all the cliches
+which the makers of books pass from hand to hand.
+
+In place of repetition he gives us laws, constant facts, fixed rules.
+
+With incomparable skill, he repeats and tests the ancient experiments of
+Réaumur.
+
+He is not content to show us that Erasmus Darwin is mistaken; he points out
+how it is that he has fallen into error. (7/33.)
+
+He sets himself to decipher the meaning of old tales, skilfully disengaging
+the little parcel of truth which usually lies beneath a mass of incorrect
+or even false statements. He criticises La Fontaine, and questions the
+statements of Horus Apollo and Pliny. From a mass of undigested knowledge
+he has created the living science of entomology, which had received from
+Réaumur a first breath of vitality, in such wise that each individual
+creature is presented in his work with its precise expression and the
+absolute truth of its character and attitudes; the inhabitants of the woods
+and fields, whether those which feed upon the crops or those which live in
+the crevices of the rocks, or the obscure workers that crawl upon the
+earth; all those which have a secret to tell or something to teach us; the
+Cigale, so different from the insect of the Fable; and above all that
+beetle whose name had hitherto been encountered arrayed in the most
+fantastic legends, the famous Scarabaeus sacer of the tombs, which Fabre
+preferred to place at the head of his epic as an agreeable prologue,
+although the inquiry relative to his amazing feats belongs chronologically
+to a comparatively recent period of his career.
+
+How moderate he is in such suppositions as he ventures; how cautious when
+his persistent patience has at last struck against "the inaccessible wall
+of the Unknowable"! Then, with admirable frankness, tranquil and sincere,
+he simply owns that "he does not know," unlike so many others, whose
+uncritical minds are contented with a fragmentary vision, and run so far
+ahead of the facts that they can only promote indefinite illusion and
+error.
+
+One is surprised indeed to remark how few even of the most learned and
+well-informed of men have a real aptitude for observation, and a highly
+instructive book might be written concerning the discrepancies and the weak
+points in our knowledge. If they were subjected to a sufficiently severe
+test, how threadbare would appear many of those problems which nature and
+the world present, and which are regarded as resolved!
+
+How long, for instance, was needed to destroy the legend of the cuckoo,
+incessantly repeated down to the days of Xavier Raspail, and to us so
+familiar; to elucidate its history, and to set it in its true light!
+(7/34.)
+
+It is by means of such data as these that a science is founded, for
+theories decay, and only well-observed facts remain irrefragable. With
+stones such as these, which are hewn by the great artisan, the structures
+of the future will be built, and our own science, perhaps, will one day be
+refashioned.
+
+For this reason Fabre's books are an education for all those who wish to
+devote themselves to observation; a manual of mental discipline, a true
+"essay upon method," which should be read by every naturalist, and the most
+interesting, instructive, familiar and delightful course of training that
+has ever been known.
+
+On the other hand, it is impossible to conceive what labour this delicate
+work demands; what perseverance Fabre has required painfully to extract one
+grain of gold; to glean and unite the definite factors, the positive
+documents, which served as foundations for each of his essays; lucid,
+limpid, and captivating as the most delightful of fairy-tales. We are
+charmed, fascinated, and astonished; we see nothing of the groping advance,
+the checks, and all the toil and the patience demanded. We do not suspect
+the long waiting, the hesitation, the desperate length of the inquiries.
+For example, to establish the curious relations which exist between the
+wasps and the Volucellae, what long and repeated experiments were needful!
+His notebooks, in which he records, from day to day, all that he sees, are
+evidence of this. What watches in the alley of lilacs, year after year, to
+decipher the mechanism and the mode of construction of the hunting-net of
+the Epeïra! Some of these histories, like that of the hyper-metamorphosis
+of the Meloë, were only completed as the result of twenty-five years of
+assiduous inquiry, while forty years were required to complete that of the
+Scarabaeus sacer, for his observation of it was always partial; it is
+almost always impossible to divine what one cannot see from the little that
+one does see; and as a rule one must return to the same point over and over
+again in order to fill up lacunae.
+
+The majority of the insects which Fabre has studied are solitary, and are
+only to be encountered singly, scattered over wide areas of country. Some
+live only in determined spots, and not elsewhere, such as the famous
+Cerceris, or the yellow-winged Sphex, of which no trace is to be found
+beyond the limits of the Carpentras countryside.
+
+The proper season must be watched for; one must be ready at any moment to
+profit by a lucky chance, and resign oneself to interminable watches at the
+bottom of a ravine, or keep on the alert for hours under a fiery sun. Often
+the chance goes by, or the trail followed proves false; but the season is
+over, and one must wait for the return of another spring. The trade of
+observer in many cases resembles the exhausting labours of the Sisyphus
+beetle, painfully pushing his pellet up a rough and stony path; so that the
+team halts and staggers at every moment, the load spills over and rolls
+away, and all has to be commenced over again.
+
+We can now cast back, in order to consider at leisure the immortal study
+which marked the beginning of his fame, with the greater interest and
+profit in that Fabre has been able, during his retirement, to generalize
+and extend his discovery. (7/35.)
+
+Let us first of all note how the observation which Dufour had made of the
+nest of the Cerceris was transformed in his hands, and what developments he
+was able to evolve therefrom.
+
+Since they have been definitely established by Fabre these curious facts
+have been well-known. They form perhaps the greatest prodigy presented by
+entomology, that science so full of marvels.
+
+These wasps nourish themselves only on the nectar of flowers; but their
+larvae, which they will never behold, must have fresh and succulent flesh
+still palpitating with life.
+
+The insect digs a tunnel in the soil, in which she places her eggs, and
+having provisioned the cell with selected game--cricket, spider,
+caterpillar, or beetle--she finally closes the entrance, which she does not
+again cross.
+
+Like nearly all insects, the young wasp is born in the larval state, and
+from the moment of its hatching to the end of its growth--that is to say,
+for a period of many days--the grub enclosed in its cell can look for no
+help from without.
+
+Here then is a fascinating problem: either the victims deposited by the
+mother are dead, and desiccation or putrefaction attacks them promptly, or
+else they are living, as indeed the larvae require; but then "what will
+become of this fragile creature, which a mere nothing will destroy, shut in
+the narrow chamber of the burrow among vigorous beetles, for weeks on end
+working their long spurred legs; or at grips with a monstrous caterpillar
+making play with its flanks and mandibles, rolling and unrolling its
+tortuous folds?"
+
+Such is the thrilling mystery of which Fabre discovered the key.
+
+With inconceivable ingenuity, the victim is seized and thrown to the
+ground, and the wasp plunges her sting, not at random into the body, which
+would involve the risk of death, but at determined points, exactly into the
+seat of those invisible nervous ganglions whose mechanism commands the
+various movements of the creature.
+
+Immediately after these subtle wounds the prey is paralysed throughout its
+body; its members appear to be disarticulated, "as though all the springs
+were broken"; the true corpse is not more motionless.
+
+But the wound is not mortal; not only does the insect continue to live, but
+it has acquired the strange prerogative of being able to live for a very
+long period without taking any nourishment, thanks precisely to the
+condition of immobility, in some sort vegetative, which paralysis confers
+upon it.
+
+When the hour strikes the hungry larva will find its favourite meat served
+to its liking; and it will attack this defenceless prey with all the
+circumspection of a refined eater; "with an exquisitely delicate art,
+nibbling the viscera of its victim little by little, with an infallible
+method; the less essential parts first of all, and only in the last
+instance those which are necessary to life. Here then is an
+incomprehensible spectacle; the spectacle of an animal which, eaten alive,
+mouthful by mouthful, during nearly a fortnight, is hollowed out, grows
+less and less, and finally collapses," while retaining to the end its
+succulence and its freshness.
+
+The fact is that the mother has taken care to deposit her egg "at a point
+always the same" in the region which her sting has rendered insensible, so
+that the first mouthfuls are only feebly resented. But as the enemy goes
+deeper and deeper "it sometimes happens that the cricket, bitten to the
+quick, attempts to retaliate; but it only succeeds in opening and closing
+the pincers of its mandibles on the empty air, or in uselessly waving its
+antennae." Vain efforts: "for now the voracious beast has bitten deep into
+the spot, and can with impunity ransack the entrails." What a slow and
+horrible agony for the paralysed victim, should some glimmer of
+consciousness still linger in its puny brain! What a terrible nightmare for
+the little field-cricket, suddenly plunged into the den of the Sphex, so
+far from the sunlit tuft of thyme which sheltered its retreat!
+
+To paralyse without killing, "to deliver the prey to the larvae inert but
+living": that is the end to be attained; only the method varies according
+to the species of the hunter and the structure of the prey; thus the
+Cerceris, which attacks the coleoptera, and the Scolia, which preys upon
+the larvae of the rose-beetle, sting them only once and in a single place,
+because there is concentrated the mass of the motor ganglions.
+
+The Pompilus, which selects a spider for its victim, no less than the
+redoubtable Tarantula, knows that its quarry "has two nervous centres which
+animate respectively the movements of the limbs and those of the terrible
+fangs; hence the two stabs of the sting." (7/36.)
+
+The Sphex plunges her dagger three times into the breast of the cricket,
+because she knows, by an intuition that we cannot comprehend, that the
+locomotor innervation of the cricket is actuated by three nervous centres,
+which lie wide apart. (7/37.)
+
+Finally, the Ammophila, "the highest manifestation of the logic of
+instinct, whose profound knowledge leaves us confounded, stabs the
+caterpillar in nine places, because the body of the victim with which it
+feeds its larvae is a series of rings, set end to end, each of which
+possesses its little independent nervous centre." (7/38.)
+
+This is not all; the genius of the Sphex is not yet at the end of its
+foresight. You have doubtless heard of the comatose state into which the
+wounded fall when, after a fracture of the skull, the brain is compressed
+by a violent haemorrhage or a bony splinter. The physiologists imitate this
+process of nature when they wish, for example, to obtain, in animals under
+experiment, a state of complete immobility. But did the first surgeon who
+thought of trepanning the skull in order to exert on the brain, by means of
+a sponge, a certain degree of compression, ever imagine that an analogous
+procedure had long been employed in the insect world, and that these clumsy
+methods were merely child's play beside the astonishing feats of the
+Unconscious?
+
+For the stab in the thoracic ganglions, however efficacious, is often
+insufficient. Although the six limbs are paralysed, although the victim
+cannot move, its mandibles, "pointed, sharp, serrated, which close like a
+pair of scissors, still remain a menace to the tyrant; they might at least,
+by gripping the surrounding grasses, oppose a more or less effectual
+resistance to the process of carrying off." So the preceding manoeuvres are
+consummated by a kind of garrotting; that is, the insect "takes care to
+compress the brain of its victim, but so as to avoid wounding it; producing
+only a stupor, a simple torpor, a passing lethargy." Is not the ingenious
+observer justified in concluding that "this is alarmingly scientific"?
+
+Between the dry statements of Dufour, which served Fabre as his original
+theme, and the unaccustomed wealth of this vast physiological poetry, what
+a distance has been covered!
+
+How far have we outstripped this barren matter, these shapeless sketches!
+Dufour, another solitary, who retired to his province, in the depth of the
+Landes, was above all a descriptive anatomist, and he limited himself to an
+inventory of the nest of a Cerceris.
+
+For him the Buprestes were dead, and their state of preservation was
+explained simply as a kind of embalming, due to some special action of the
+venom of the Hymenoptera.
+
+These facts, therefore, were stated as simple curiosities.
+
+Fabre proved that these victims possessed all the attributes of life
+excepting movement, by provoking contractions in their members under the
+influence of various stimulants, and by keeping them alive artificially for
+an indefinite period.
+
+On the other hand, he demonstrated the comparative innocuousness of the
+venom of these wasps, some of which, like the great Cerceris or the
+beautiful and formidable Scolia, alarm by their enormous size and their
+terrifying aspect; so that the conservation of the prey could not be due to
+any occult quality, to some more or less active antiseptic virtue of the
+venomous fluid, but simply to the precision of the stab and the miraculous
+deftness of the "surgeon."
+
+He also pointed out the fact that the sting of the insect is able
+immediately to dissociate the nervous system of the vegetative life from
+that of the correlative life, sparing the former, and taking care not to
+wound the abdomen, which contains the ganglions of the great sympathetic
+nerve, while it annihilates the latter, which is more or less concentrated
+along the ventral face of the thoracic region.
+
+He completed this splendid demonstration, not only by provoking under his
+own eyes the "murderous manoeuvres, the intimate and passionate drama," but
+also by reproducing experimentally all these astonishing phenomena;
+expounding their mechanism and their variations with a logic and lucidity,
+an art and sagacity which raise this marvellous observation, one of the
+most beautiful known to science, to the height of the most immortal
+discoveries of physiology. Claude Bernard, in his celebrated experiments,
+certainly exhibited no greater invention, no truer genius.
+
+
+CHAPTER 8. THE MIRACLE OF INSTINCT.
+
+"The Spirit Bloweth Whither it Listeth."
+
+What is this instinct, which guides the insect to such marvellous results?
+Is it merely a degree of intelligence, or some absolutely different form of
+activity?
+
+Is it possible, by studying the habits of animals, to discover some of
+those elementary springs of action whose knowledge would enable us to dive
+more deeply into our own natures?
+
+Fabre has presented us to his Sphex, the "infallible paralyser." Are we to
+credit her not only with memory, but also with the faculty of associating
+ideas, of judgment, and of pursuing a train of reasoning in respect of her
+astonishingly co-ordinated actions?
+
+Put to the question by the malice of the operator, the "transcendent"
+anatomist trips over a mere trifle, and the slightest novelty confounds
+her.
+
+Without the circle of her ordinary habits, what stupidity, "what darkness
+wraps her round"! She retreats; she refuses to understand; "she washes her
+eyes, first passing her hands across her mouth; she assumes a dreamy,
+meditative air." What can she be pondering? Under what form of thought,
+illusion, or mirage does the unfamiliar problem which has obtruded itself
+into her customary life present itself behind those faceted eyes? (8/1.)
+
+How can we tell? We can only attain to knowledge of ourselves by direct
+intuition. It is only the idea of our ego which enables us to conjecture
+what is passing in the brains of our fellows. Between the insect and
+ourselves no understanding is possible, so remote are the analogies between
+its organization and our own; and we can only form idle hypotheses as to
+its states of consciousness and the real motive of its actions.
+
+Consider only that unknown and mysterious energy which the insects display
+in their operations and their labours, as it is in itself, and let us
+content ourselves, first of all, with comparing it to our own intelligence,
+such as we conceive it to be.
+
+In seeking to appreciate whereby it differs perhaps we shall gain more than
+by vainly seeking points of resemblance. We shall discover, in fact, behind
+the insect and its prodigious instincts, a vast and remote horizon, a
+region at once more profound, more extensive, and more fruitful than that
+of the intelligence; and if Fabre is able to help us to decipher a few
+pages of "the most difficult of all volumes, the book of ourselves," it is
+precisely, as a philosopher told him, because "man has remained instinctive
+in process of becoming intelligent." (8/2.)
+
+The work of Fabre is from this point of view an invaluable treasury of
+observations and experiments, and the richest contribution which has ever
+been made to the study of these fascinating problems.
+
+"The function of the intelligence is to reflect, to be conscious; that is,
+to relate the effect to its cause, to add a "because" to a "why"; to remedy
+the accidental; to adapt a new course of conduct to new circumstances."
+
+In relation to the human intelligence thus defined Fabre has considered
+these nervous aptitudes, so well adjusted, according to the evolutionists,
+by ancient habit, that they have finally become impulsive and unconscious,
+and, properly speaking, innate. He has demonstrated, with an abundance of
+proof and a power of argument that we must admire, the blind mechanism
+which determines all the manifestations, even the most extraordinary, of
+that which we call instinct, and which heredity has fixed in a species of
+unchangeable automatism, like the rhythm of the heart and the lungs. (8/3.)
+
+Let us, from this wealth of material, from among the most suggestive
+examples, select some of his most striking demonstrations, which are
+classics of their kind.
+
+Fabre has not attempted to define instinct, for it is indefinable; nor to
+probe its essential nature, which is impenetrable. But to recognize the
+order of nature is in itself a sufficiently fascinating study, without
+striving to crack an unbreakable bone or wasting time in pondering
+insoluble enigmas. The important matter is to avoid the introduction of
+illusions, to beware of exceeding the data of observation and experiment,
+of substituting our own inferences for the facts, of outstripping reality
+and amplifying the marvellous.
+
+Let us listen to the scrupulous analysis whose lessons, scattered through
+four thousand pages, teach us more concerning instinct and its innumerable
+variations than all the most learned treatises and speculations of the
+philosophers.
+
+Nothing in the world perplexes the mind of the observer like the spectacle
+of the birth and growth of the instincts.
+
+At precisely the right moment, just as failure or disaster seems
+foreordained by the previously established circumstances, Fabre shows us
+his insects as suddenly mastered by an irresistible force.
+
+"At the right moment" they invincibly obey some sort of mysterious and
+inflexible prescription. Without apprenticeship, they perform the very
+actions required, and blindly accomplish their destiny.
+
+Then, the moment having passed, the instincts "disappear and do not
+reawaken. A few days more or less modify the talents, and what the young
+insect knew the adult has often forgotten." (8/4.)
+
+Among the Lycosae, at the moment of exodus, a sudden instinct is evolved
+which a few hours later disappears never to return. It is the climbing
+instinct, unknown to the adult spider, and soon forgotten by the
+emancipated young, who are destined to roam upon the face of the earth. But
+the young Lycosae, anxious to leave the maternal home and to travel, become
+suddenly ardent climbers and aeronauts, each releasing a long, light thread
+which serves it as parachute. The voyage accomplished, no trace of this
+ingenuity is left. Suddenly acquired, the climbing instinct no less
+suddenly disappears. (8/5.)
+
+The great historiographer of instinct has thrown a wonderful light, by his
+beautiful experiments relating to the nidification of the mason-bee, upon
+the indissoluble succession of its different phases; the lineal
+concatenation, the inevitable and necessary order which presides over each
+of these nervous discharges of which the total series constitutes, properly
+speaking, a mode of action.
+
+The mason-bee continues to build upon the ready-completed nest presented to
+her. She obstinately insists upon provisioning a cell already duly filled
+with the quantity of honey required by the larva, because, in this case as
+in the other, the impulse which incites her to build or to provision the
+nest has not yet been exhausted.
+
+On the other hand, if we empty the little cup of its contents when she has
+filled it she will not recommence her labours. "The process of provisioning
+being complete, the secret impulse which urged her to collect her honey is
+no longer active. The insect therefore ceases to store her honey, and, in
+spite of this accident, lays her egg in the empty cell, thus leaving the
+future nursling without nourishment." (8/6.)
+
+In the case of the Pelopaeus, Fabre calls our attention to one of the most
+instructive physiological spectacles that can be imagined.
+
+While the mason-bee does not notice that her cell has been emptied, the
+Pelopaeus cannot perceive that the tricks of the experimenter have resulted
+in the disappearance of her progeny; and she "continues to store away
+spiders for a germ that no longer exists; she perseveres untiringly in her
+useless hunting, as though the future of her larva depended on it; she
+amasses provisions which will feed no one; more, she pushes aberration to
+the extent of plastering even the place where her nest was if we remove it,
+giving the last strokes of the trowel to an imaginary building, and putting
+her seals upon empty nothing." (8/7.)
+
+>From these facts, and others, no less celebrated, which show "the inability
+of insects to escape from the routine of their customs and their habitual
+labours," Fabre derives so many proofs of their lack of intelligence.
+
+The Epeïra fasciata is incapable of replacing a single radial thread in the
+geometrical structure of its web, when broken; it recommences the entire
+web every evening, and weaves it at one stretch with the most beautiful
+mastery, as though merely amusing itself.
+
+The caterpillar of the Greater Peacock moth teaches us the same lesson;
+when occupied in weaving its cocoon it does not know how to repair an
+artificial rent; and "in spite of the certainty of its death, or rather
+that of the future butterfly, it quietly continues to spin, without
+troubling to cover the rent; devoting itself to a superfluous task, and
+ignoring the treacherous breach, which leaves the cocoon and its inhabitant
+at the mercy of the first thief that finds it." (8/8.)
+
+Thus "because one action has just been performed, another must inevitably
+be performed to complete the first; what is done is done, and is never
+repeated. Like the watercourse, which cannot climb the hills and return to
+its source, the insect does not retrace its steps or repeat its actions,
+which follow one another invariably, and are inevitably connected in a
+necessary order, like a series of echoes, one of which awakens
+another...The insect knows nothing of its marvellous talents, just as the
+stomach knows nothing of its cunning chemistry. It builds like a
+bricklayer, weaves, hunts, stabs, and paralyses, as it secretes the venom
+of its weapons, the silk of its cocoon, the wax of its comb, or the threads
+of its web; always without the slightest knowledge of the means and the
+end." (8/9.)
+
+Thus instinct is one thing and intelligence is another; and for Fabre there
+is no transition which can transform the one into the other.
+
+But how profound and abundant, how infinite is the source from which this
+manifold activity derives, distributed as it is throughout the entire
+animal kingdom; and which in ourselves commands the profoundest part of our
+nature; unconscious, or even in opposition to our wonderful intelligence,
+which it often silences or altogether overwhelms.
+
+Although the insect "has no need of lessons from its elders" in order to
+accomplish its beautiful masterpieces, the comprehensive concept of the
+genius which rises spontaneously and at a single step to the loftiest
+conceptions is not always a product of pure reason.
+
+Compare the sublime logic of animal maternity, the impeccable dictates of
+instinct, with the hesitations, the gropings, the uncertainties, the errors
+and tragic failures of human maternity, when it seeks to replace the
+unerring commands of instinct by the clumsy efforts of the intelligence!
+
+If all is darkness to the animal, apart from its habitual paths, how feeble
+and hesitating, how faltering and unequal is reason when it seeks to oppose
+its laborious inductions to the infallible wisdom of the unconscious!
+
+It is, in fact, to this concatenation of actions, narrowly connected by a
+mutual dependence, that we owe this inexhaustible series of cunning
+industries and wonderful arts. To Fabre they are so many feats of a learned
+unconsciousness.
+
+"See the nest, the accustomed masterpiece of mothers; it is more often than
+otherwise an animal fruit, a coffer full of germs, containing eggs in place
+of seeds."
+
+The satin bag of the Epeïra fasciata, in which her eggs are enclosed,
+"breaks at the caress of the sun, like the skin of an over-ripe
+pomegranate."
+
+The Dorthesia, the louse inhabiting the euphorbia, "trebles the length of
+her body, prolonging its hinder part into a pouch, comparable to that of
+the opossum, into which the eggs are dropped, and in which the young are
+hatched, to leave it afterwards at will." (8/10.)
+
+The Chermes of the ilex "hardens into a rampart of ebony, whence an
+innumerable legion of vermin bursts forth one day without changing their
+place."
+
+The capsule of gold-beater's skin, in which the grubs of the Cione are
+enclosed, divides itself, at the moment of liberation, into two hemispheres
+"of a regularity so perfect that they recall exactly the bursting of the
+pyxidium when the seed is distributed." (8/11.)
+
+Here and there, however, we catch a glimpse of a rudiment of what we
+understand by consciousness, in the shape of a "vague discrimination."
+
+Each plant has its lover, drawn to it by a kind of elective affinity and
+invariable tendency. The Larra makes for the thistle, the Vanessa for the
+nettle, the Clytus for the ilex, and the Crioceris for the lily. "The
+weevil knows nothing but its peas and beans, the golden Rhynchites only the
+sloe, and the Balaninus only the nut or acorn."
+
+But the Pieris, which haunts the cabbage, frequents the nasturtium also,
+and the golden rose-beetle, which "intoxicates itself at the clusters of
+the hawthorn," is no less addicted to the nectar of the rose.
+
+The Xylocopa, which burrows in the trunks of trees and old rafters, forming
+little round corridors in which to lodge her offspring, "will utilize
+artificial galleries which she has not herself bored."
+
+The Chalicodoma "also is aware of the economic advantages of an old
+abandoned nest"; the Anthophora is careful to establish her family "at the
+least expense," and profits on occasion by galleries which have been mined
+by previous generations; adapting herself to these new conditions, she
+repairs the tunnels which she did not construct "and economizes her
+forces." (8/12.)
+
+It would seem, therefore, that these tiny minds are created and shaped by
+means of experience; they recognize "that which is most fitting"; they
+learn, they compare; may we not also say that they judge?
+
+Does not the Mason-bee, "which rakes the roads for a dry powdery dust and
+mixes it with saliva to convert it into a hard cement," foresee that this
+mud will harden?
+
+Is the Pelopaeus devoid of judgment when she seeks the interior of
+dwelling-houses in order to shelter her nest of dried clay, which the least
+drop of rain would reduce to its original state of mud?
+
+Is it without knowledge of the effects that the sloe-weevil builds a
+ventilating chimney to prevent the asphyxiation of her larva? that the
+Scarabaeus sacer contrives a filter at the smaller end of its pear-shaped
+ball, by means of which the grub is able to breathe? or that Arachne
+labyrintha "introduces in her silk-work a rampart of compressed earth to
+protect her eggs from the probe of the Ichneumon"?
+
+May we not also see a masterpiece of the highest logic in the house of the
+trap-door spider, Arachne clotho, which is furnished with a door, a true
+door "which she throws open with a push of the leg, and carefully bolts
+behind her on returning by means of a little silk"? (8/13.)
+
+What a miracle of invention too is the prodigious nest of the Eumenes,
+"with its egg suspended by a thread from the roof, like a pendulum,
+oscillating at the lightest breath in order to save it from contact with
+the caterpillars, which, incompletely paralysed, are wriggling and writhing
+below"! Later, when the egg is hatched, "the filament is transformed into a
+tube, a place of refuge, up which the grub clambers backwards. At the least
+sign of danger from the mass of caterpillars the larva retreats into its
+sheath and ascends to the roof, where the wriggling swarm cannot reach it."
+(8/14.)
+
+Let us refer also to the remarkable history of the Copris. We cannot deny
+that the valiant dung-beetle is capable of "evading the accidental" (which
+to Fabre constitutes one of the distinctive characteristics of the
+intelligence), since it immediately intervenes if with the point of a
+penknife we open the roof of its nest and lay bare its egg. "The fragments
+raised by the knife are immediately brought together and soldered, so that
+no trace is left of the injury, and all is once more in order." We may read
+also with what incredible address the mother Copris was able to use and to
+profit by the ready-made pellets of cow-dung which it occurred to Fabre to
+offer her. (8/15.)
+
+But their scope is limited, and encroaches very little, in the eyes of the
+great observer, on the domain of intelligence. This he demonstrates to
+satiety, and his astonishing Necrophori, which adapt themselves so
+admirably to circumstances and triumph over the experimental difficulties
+to which he subjects them, seem scarcely to exceed the limits of those
+actions which at bottom are merely unconscious. (8/16.)
+
+With the spawning of the Osmia, Fabre throws a fresh and unexpected light
+on the intuitive knowledge of instinct.
+
+We are still groping our way among the causes which rule the determination
+of the sexes. Biology has only been able to throw a few scattered lights on
+the subject, and we possess only a few approximate data; which nevertheless
+are turned to account by the breeders of insects. We are still in the
+region of illusion and imperfect prognostics.
+
+But the Osmia knows what we do not. She is deeply versed in all
+physiological and anatomical knowledge, and in the faculty of creating
+children of either sex at will.
+
+These pretty bees, "with coppery skin and fleece of ruddy velvet," which
+establish their progeny in the hollow of a bramble stump, the cavity of a
+reed, or the winding staircase of an empty snail-shell, know the fixed and
+immutable genetic laws which we can only guess at, and are never mistaken.
+
+This marvellous prerogative the Osmia shares with a host of apiaries, in
+which the unequal development of the males and females requires an unequal
+provision of space and of nourishment for the future larvae. For the
+females, who exceed in point of size, huge cells and abundant provision;
+for the more puny males, narrow cells and a smaller ration of pollen and
+honey.
+
+Now the circumstances which are encountered by the Osmia, when, pressed by
+the necessities of spawning, she searches for a dwelling, are often
+fortuitous and incapable of modification; and in order to give each set of
+larvae the necessary space "she lays at will a male or a female egg,
+according to the conditions of space."
+
+In this marvellous study, which constitutes, with the history of the
+Cerceris, the finest masterpiece of experimental entomology, Fabre
+brilliantly establishes all the details of that curious law which in the
+Hymenoptera rules both the distribution and the succession of the sexes. In
+his artificial hives, in glass cylinders, he forces the Osmia to commence
+her spawning with the males, instead of beginning with the females as
+nature requires, since the insect is primarily preoccupied with the more
+important sex, that which ensures par excellence the perpetuation of the
+species. He even forces the whole swarm which buzzes about his work-tables,
+his books, his bottles, and apparatus, completely to change the order of
+its spawning. He shows finally that in the heart of the ovaries the egg of
+the Osmia has as yet no determined sex, and that it is only at the precise
+moment when the egg is on the point of emerging from the oviduct that it
+receives, AT THE WILL OF THE MOTHER, the mysterious, final, and inevitable
+imprint.
+
+But whence does the Osmia derive this, "distinct idea of the invisible"?
+Here again is one of those riddles of nature which Fabre declares himself
+quite incapable of solving. (8/17.)
+
+Is this all? No; we are far from having made the tour of this miraculous
+and incommensurable kingdom through which this admirable master leads us,
+and I should never be done were I to attempt to exhaust all the spectacles
+which he offers us. Let us descend yet another step, among creatures yet
+smaller and humbler. We shall find tendencies, impulses, preferences,
+efforts, intentions, "Machiavellic ruses and unheard-of stratagems."
+
+Certain miserable black mites, living specks, the larvae of a beetle, one
+of the Meloidae, the Sitaris, are parasites of the solitary bee, the
+Anthophora. They wait patiently all the winter at the entrance of her
+tunnel, on the slope of a sunny bank, for the springtime emergence of the
+young bees, as yet imprisoned in their cells of clay. A male Anthophora,
+hatched a little earlier than the females, appears in the entrance of the
+tunnel; these mites, which are armed with robust talons, rouse themselves,
+hasten to and fro, hook themselves to his fleece, and accompany him in all
+his peregrinations; but they quickly recognize their error; for these
+animated specks are well aware that the males, occupied all day long in
+scouring the country and pillaging the flowers, live exclusively out of
+doors, and would in no wise serve their end. But the moment comes when the
+Anthophora pays court to the fair sex, and the imperceptible creature
+immediately profits by the amorous encounter to change its winged courser.
+"These pigmies therefore have a memory, an experience of facts" (and how
+one is tempted to add, a glimmering of intelligence!). Grappled now to the
+female bee, the grub of the Sitaris "conceals itself, and allows itself to
+be carried by her" to the end of the gallery in which she is now contriving
+her cradle, "watches the precise moment when the egg is laid, installs
+itself upon it, and allows itself to fall therewith upon the surface of the
+honey, in order to substitute itself for the future offspring of the
+Anthophora, and possess itself of house and victuals." (8/18.)
+
+Another "little gelatinous speck," "a shadow of a creature," the larva of a
+Chalcidian, the Leucopsis, one of the parasites of the Mason-bee, knows
+that in the cell of the mason there is food for one only. Scarcely has it
+entered the tiny dwelling but we see this "nameless shape" for several days
+"anxiously wandering; it visits the top and bottom, the back, the front,
+the sides"; it makes the tour of its domain; "it searches in the darkness,
+palpitating, seemingly with an object in view." What does this "animated
+globule" want? why is this atom so excited? It is searching to discover if
+there is not in some corner hitherto unexplored another larva, a rival,
+that it may exterminate it! (8/19.)
+
+What then intrinsically is instinct? And what intrinsically is
+intelligence?
+
+How can we propose to draw up the inexhaustible inventory of all the
+manifestations of life, and why attempt to include all its species and
+their unknown varieties in narrow classes? Why say that there are only two
+modes of life, instinct on the one hand and intelligence on the other,
+"when we know how subtle and illusive is this Proteus, and that there are
+not two things only, but a thousand dissimilar things" (8/20.): or rather
+is it not always the same thing, everywhere present and acting in living
+matter, and susceptible of infinite degrees, under forms and disguises
+innumerable?
+
+This is why it escapes the "scalpel of the masters" and the apparatus of
+the chemists. We may dissect, we may scrutinize organs under the magnifying
+glass, examine wing-cases, count the nervures of the wings, the number of
+articulations in the limbs; we may reckon every point, like Réaumur
+forgetting not a line, not a hair; we may compare and measure every portion
+of the mouth, and define the class; and we shall not find a single point in
+all this physical architecture which will positively inform us of the
+habits of the insect. Of what account are a few slight differences? It is
+in the physical far more than in the anatomical differences that the
+inviolable demarcation between two species exists. Instincts dominate
+forms; the tool does not make the artisan; "and none of these various
+structures, however well adapted they may appear to us, bears within it its
+reason or its finality."
+
+Thus whatever opinion we may hold as to the nature of instinct, the
+accomplishments and habits of insects are not, properly speaking, connected
+with the external and visible form of their organs, and their acts do not
+necessarily presuppose the instruments which would be appropriate to them.
+
+We know that with most organisms, and particularly with plants, an almost
+imperceptible variation in material circumstances is often enough to modify
+their character and to produce fresh aptitudes. Nevertheless, we can but
+wonder, with Fabre, that physical modifications, which, when they do exist,
+are so slight always as to have escaped the most perfect observation,
+should have sufficed to determine the appearance of profoundly dissimilar
+faculties. Inexplicable abilities, unexpected habits, unforeseen physical
+aptitudes, and unheard-of industries are exercised by means of organs which
+are here and there practically identical. "The same tools are equally good
+for any purpose. Talent alone is able to adapt them to manifold ends."
+
+The Anthidia have two particular industries; "those which felt cotton and
+card the soft down of hairy plants have the same claws, the same mandibles,
+composed of the same portions as those which knead resin and mix it with
+fine gravel." (8/21.)
+
+The sloe-weevil "bores the hard stone of the sloe with the same rostrum as
+that which its congeners, so like it in conformation, employ to roll the
+leaves of the vine and the poplar into tiny cigars."
+
+The implement of the Megachile, the rose-fly, is by no means appropriate to
+its industry; "yet the perfectly circular fragments of leaves have the
+precise perfection of form that a punch would give."
+
+The Xylocopa, in order to pierce wood and to bore its galleries in an old
+rafter, employs "the same utensils which in others are transformed into
+picks and mattocks to attack clay and gravel, and it is only a
+predisposition of talent that holds each worker to his speciality."
+
+Moreover, have not the superior animals the same senses and the same
+structure, yet what inequality there is among them, in the matter of
+aptitudes and degrees of intelligence!
+
+Habits are no more determined by anatomical peculiarities than are
+aptitudes or industries.
+
+The two Goat-moth caterpillars, of similar structure, have entirely
+different stomachic aptitudes; "the exclusive portion of the one is the oak
+and of the other the hawthorn or the cherry-laurel."
+
+"Whence does the Mantis derive its excessive hunger, its pugnacity, its
+cannibalism, and the Empusa its sobriety, its peaceableness, when their
+almost identical organization would seem to indicate an identity of needs,
+instincts, and habits?"
+
+In the same way the black scorpion appears to present none of the
+interesting peculiarities which we observe in the habits of its congener,
+the white scorpion of Languedoc. (8/22.)
+
+Structure, therefore, tells us nothing of aptitude; the organ does not
+explain its function. Let the specialists hypnotize themselves over their
+lenses and microscopes; they may accumulate at leisure masses of details
+relating to this or that family or genus or individual; they may undertake
+the most subtle inquiries, may write thousands and thousands of pages in
+order to detail a few slight variations, without even succeeding in
+exhausting the matter: they will not even have seen what is most wonderful.
+
+When the little insect has for the last time cleaned its claws, the secret
+of the little mind has fled for ever, with all the feelings that animated
+it and gave it life. That which is crystallized in death cannot explain
+what was life. This is the thought which the Provençal singer, with that
+intuition which is the privilege of genius, has expressed in these
+melodious lines:
+
+"Oh! pau de sèn qu'emé l'escaupre
+Furnant la mort, creson de saupre,
+La vertu de l'abiho e lou secrèt doù méu."
+
+(O men of little sense, who seek,
+Scalpel in hand, to make Death tell
+The virtue of the bee, the secret of her cell!) (8/23.)
+
+
+CHAPTER 9. EVOLUTION OR "TRANSFORMISM."
+
+"How did a miserable grub acquire its marvellous knowledge? Are its habits,
+its aptitudes, and its industries the integration of the infinitely little,
+acquired by successive experiences on the limitless path of time?"
+
+It is in these words that Fabre presents the problem of evolution.
+
+Difficult though it may be to follow the sequence of forms which have
+endlessly succeeded and replaced one another on the face of the earth,
+since the beginning of the world, it is certain that all living creatures
+are closely related; and the magnificent and fertile hypothesis of
+evolution, which seeks to explain how extant forms are derived from
+extinct, has the immense advantage of giving a plausible reason for the
+majority of the facts which at least cease to be completely unintelligible.
+
+Otherwise we can certainly never imagine how so many instincts, and these
+so complex and perfect, could have issued suddenly "from the urn of
+hazard."
+
+But Fabre will suppose nothing; he will only record the facts. Instead of
+wandering in the region of probabilities, he prefers to confine himself to
+the reality, and for the rest to reply simply that "we do not know."
+
+This stern, positive, rigorous, independent, and observant mind, nourished
+upon geometry and the exact sciences, which has never been able to content
+itself with approximations and probabilities, could but distrust the
+seductions of hypotheses.
+
+His robust common sense, which was always his protection against
+precipitate conclusions, too clearly comprehends the limits of science and
+the necessity of accumulating facts "upon the thorny path of observation
+and experiment" to indulge in generalization. He feels that life has
+secrets which our minds are powerless to probe, and that "human knowledge
+will be erased from the archives of the world before we know the last word
+concerning the smallest fly."
+
+This is why he was regarded as "suspect" by the company of official
+scientists, to whom he was a dissenter, almost a traitor, especially at a
+moment when the theories of evolution, then in the first flush of their
+novelty, were everywhere the cause of a general elation.
+
+No one as yet was capable of divining the man of the future in this modest
+thinker who would not accept the word of the masters interested, but in
+opposing the theory of transformation, far from being reactionary, Fabre
+revealed himself, at least in the domain of animal psychology, as an
+innovator, a true precursor.
+
+Moreover, his observations, always so direct and personal, often revealed
+the contrary of what was asserted or foreseen by the magic formulae
+suggested by the mind.
+
+To the ingenious mechanism invented by the transformists he preferred to
+oppose, not contrary argument, but the naked undeniable fact, the obvious
+testimony, the certain and irrefragable example. "Is it," he would ask
+them, "to repulse their enemies that certain caterpillars smear themselves
+with a corrosive product? But the larva of the Calosoma sycophanta, which
+feeds on the Processional caterpillar of the oak-tree, pays no heed to it,
+neither does the Dermestes, which feeds on the entrails of the Processional
+caterpillar of the pine-tree."
+
+And consider mimicry. According to the theory of evolution, certain insects
+would utilize their resemblance to certain others in order to conceal
+themselves, and to introduce themselves into the dwellings of the latter as
+parasites living at their expense. Such would be the case with the
+Volucella, a large fly whose costume, striped with brown and yellow bands,
+gives it a rude resemblance to the wasp. Obliged, if not for its own sake
+at least for that of its family, to force itself into the wasp's dwelling
+as a parasite, it deceitfully dresses itself, we are told, in the livery of
+its victim, thus affording the most curious and striking example of
+mimicry; and naturalists insufficiently informed would regard it as one of
+the greatest triumphs of evolution.
+
+Now what does the Volucella do? It is true that it lays its eggs without
+being disturbed in the nest of the wasp. But, as the rigorous observer will
+tell you, it is a precious auxiliary and not an enemy of the community. Its
+grubs, far from disguising or concealing themselves, "come and go openly
+upon the combs, although every stranger is immediately massacred and thrown
+out." Moreover, "they watch the hygiene of the city by clearing the nest of
+its dead and ridding the larvae of the wasps of their excretory products."
+Plunging successively into each chamber of the dormitory the forepart of
+their bodies, "they provoke the emission of that fluid excrement of which
+the larvae, owing to their cloistration, contain an extreme reserve." In a
+word, the grubs of the Volucella "are the nurses of the larvae," performing
+the most intimate duties." (9/1.)
+
+What an astonishing conclusion! What a disconcerting and unexpected reply
+to the "theories in vogue"!
+
+Fabre, however, with his poetic temperament and ardent imagination, seemed
+admirably prepared to grasp all that vast network of relations by which all
+creatures are connected; but what proves the solidity of his imperishable
+work is that all theories, all doctrines, and all systems may resort to it
+in turn and profit by his proofs and arguments.
+
+And he himself, although he boasts with so much reason of putting forward
+no pretensions, no theories, no systems, has he not even so yielded
+somewhat to the suggestions of the prevailing school of thought, and have
+not his verdicts against evolution often been the more excessive in that he
+has paid so notable a tribute to the evolutionary progress of creation?
+
+In the first place, he is far from excluding the undeniable influence of
+environing causes; the immense role of those myriad external circumstances
+on which Lamarck so strongly insisted; but the work of these factors is, in
+his eyes, only accessory and wholly secondary in the economy of nature; and
+in any case it is far from explaining the definite direction and the
+transcendent harmony which characterize evolution, both in its totality and
+in its most infinitesimal details.
+
+In one of his admirable little textbooks, intended to teach and to
+popularize science, he complacently enumerates the happy modifications
+effected by that "sublime magician," selection as understood by Darwin. He
+evokes the metamorphoses of the potato, which, on the mountains of Chili,
+is merely a wretched venomous tubercle, and those of the cabbage, which on
+the rocky face of oceanic precipices is nothing but a weed, "with a tall
+stem and scanty disordered leaves of a crude green, an acrid savour, and a
+rank smell"; he speaks of wheat, formerly a poor unknown grass; the
+primitive pear-tree "an ugly intractable thorny bush, with detestable
+bitter fruit"; the wild celery, which grows beside ponds, "green all over,
+hard, with a repulsive flavour, and which gradually becomes tenderer,
+sweeter, whiter," and "ceases to distil its poison." (9/2.)
+
+With profound exactitude this great biologist has also perceived the degree
+to which size may be modified; may dwindle to dwarfness when a niggardly
+soil refuses to furnish beast and plant alike with a sufficient
+nourishment.
+
+Without any communication with the other scientists who were occupied by
+the same questions, knowing nothing of the results which these
+experimenters had attained in the case of small mammiferous animals, and
+which prove that dwarfness has often no other cause than physiological
+poverty, he confirmed and expanded their ideas from an entomological point
+of view. (9/3.)
+
+Scarcely ever, indeed, was he first inspired by the doings of others in
+this or that direction; he read scarcely anything, and nature was his sole
+teacher. He considered that the knowledge to be obtained from books is but
+so much vapour compared with the realities; he borrowed only from himself,
+and resorted directly to the facts as nature presented them. One has only
+to see his scanty library of odd volumes to be convinced how little he owes
+to others, whether writers or workers.
+
+A true naturalist philosopher, this profound observer has also thrown a
+light upon certain singular anomalies which, in the insect world, seem to
+constitute an exception, at all events in our Europe, to the general rules.
+It is not only to the curiosity and for the amusement of entomologists that
+he proposes these curious anatomical problems, but also, and chiefly, to
+the Darwinian wisdom of the evolutionists.
+
+Why, for example, is the Scarabaeus sacer born and why does it remain
+maimed all its life; that is to say, deprived of all the digits on the
+anterior limbs?
+
+"If it is true that every change in the form of an appendage is only the
+sign of a habit, a special instinct, or a modification in the conditions of
+life, the theory of evolution should endeavour to account for this
+mutilation, for these creatures are, like all others, constructed on the
+same plan and provided with absolutely the same appendages."
+
+The posterior limbs of the Geotrupes stercorarius, "perfectly developed in
+the adult, are atrophied in the larvae, reduced to mere specks."
+
+The general history of the species, of its migrations and its changes, will
+doubtless one day throw light upon these strange infirmities, here
+temporary and there permanent, which may perhaps be explained by unforeseen
+encounters with undiscovered specimens, strayed perhaps into distant
+countries. (9/4.)
+
+What invaluable documents for the entomologist and the historian of the
+evolution of the species are those multiple and fabulous metamorphoses of
+the Sitares and the Meloïdae which this indefatigable inquirer has revealed
+in all their astonishing phases!
+
+One of the finest examples of scientific investigation is the pursuit,
+through a period of twenty-five years, with a sagacity which seems to
+border on divination, of this problem of HYPER-METAMORPHOSIS. The larvae of
+those coleoptera which we have seen introduced, with infernal cunning, into
+the cells of the Anthophora (See Chapter 8 above.), suffer no less than
+four moults before they become nymphs.
+
+These merely external transformations, which involve only the envelope, and
+respect the internal structure, correspond each with a change of
+environment and of diet. Each time the organism adapts itself to its new
+mode of existence, "as perfectly as when it becomes adult"; and we see the
+insect, which was clear-sighted, become blind; it loses its feet, to
+recover them later; its slender body becomes ventripotent; hard, it grows
+soft; its mandibles, at first steely, become hollowed out spoonwise, each
+modification of conformation having its motive in a fresh modification of
+the conditions of the creature's life.
+
+How explain this strange evolution of a fourfold larval existence, these
+successive appearances of organs, which become entirely unlike what they
+were, to serve functions each time different?
+
+What is the reason, the intention, the high law which presides over these
+visible changes, these successive envelopments of creatures one within the
+other, these multiple transfigurations?
+
+By what bygone adaptations has the Sitaris successively acquired these
+diverse extraordinary phases of life, indicating possibly for each
+corresponding age some ancient and remote heredity? (9/5.)
+
+How many other arguments might evolution derive from his books, and what
+illustrations of the Darwinian philosophy has he unconsciously furnished!
+Does he not even allow the admission to escape him that "the spirit of
+cunning and deception is transmitted"? He sees in the persecutions of the
+Dytiscus, the "pirate of the ponds," the origin of the faculty which the
+Phryganea has of refashioning its shield when demanded of it. "To evade the
+assault of the brigand, the Phryganea must hastily abandon its mantle; it
+allows itself to sink to the bottom, and promptly removes itself; necessity
+is the mother of invention." (9/6.)
+
+Returning to the lacunae which it so amazes Fabre to discover in our
+organization, even in the most perfect of us, are they fundamentally very
+real? These mysterious and unknown senses which he has so greatly
+contributed to elucidate in the case of the inferior species: why, he asks,
+have we not inherited them, if we are truly the final term and the supreme
+goal of creation?
+
+But in cultivating our intuition, as Bergson invites us to do, would it be
+impossible to re-awaken, deep within us, these strange faculties, which
+perhaps are only slumbering? What of that species of indefinable memory
+which permits the red ant, the Bembex, the Cerceris, the Pompilus, the
+Chalicodoma and so many others to "find themselves," to orientate
+themselves with infallible certainty and incredible accuracy? Is it not to
+be found, according to travellers, in those men who have remained close to
+nature and accustomed from their remotest origins to listen to the silence
+of the great deserts?
+
+Finally, the evolutionists, who "reconstruct the world in imagination," and
+who see in the relationship of neighbouring species a proof of descent or
+derivation, and a whole ideal series, will not fail to perceive throughout
+his work, in the elementary operations of the Eumenes and the Odynerus,
+cousins of the Cerceris, which sting their prey in places as yet ill
+determined, not indeed so many isolated attempts, but an incomplete process
+of invention, an attempt at procedures still in the fact of formation: in a
+word, the birth of that marvellous instinct which ends in the transcendent
+art of the Sphex and the Ammophila.
+
+Although they have acquired such prodigious deftness, these master
+paralysers are not, in fact, always infallible. Occasionally the Sphex
+blunders and gropes, "operates clumsily"; the cricket revives, gets upon
+its feet, turns round and round, and tries to walk. But, inquires Fabre, do
+you say that having profited by a fortuitous act, which has turned out to
+be favourable to them, they have perfected themselves by contact with their
+elders, "thanks to the imitation of example," and that they have thus
+crystallized their experiences, which have been transmitted by heredity--
+thereby fixed in the race? (9/7.)
+
+How much we should prefer that it were so! How much more comprehensible and
+interesting their life would become!
+
+But "when the hymenopteron breaks its cocoon, where are its masters! Its
+predecessors have long ago disappeared. How then can it receive education
+by example?"
+
+You who "shape the world to your whim," you will reply: "Doubtless there
+are no longer masters to-day; but go back to the first ages of the globe,
+when the world in its newness, as Lucretius has so superbly said, as yet
+knew neither bitter cold nor excessive heat (9/8.); an eternal springtide
+bathed the earth, and the insects, not dying, as to-day, at the first touch
+of frost, two successive generations lived side by side, and the younger
+generation could profit at leisure by the lessons of example." (9/9.)
+
+Let us return to Fabre's laboratory, to the covers of wire-gauze, and note
+what becomes, at the approach of winter, of the survivors of the vespine
+city.
+
+In the mild and comfortable retreat where the wasps are kept under
+observation they die no less, despite their well-being and all the care
+expended on them, when once "the inexorable hour" has struck, and once the
+exact capital of life which seems to have been imparted to them ages ago is
+exhausted. With no apparent cause, we see death busy among them. "Suddenly
+the wasps begin to fall as though struck by lightning; for a few moments
+the abdomen quivers and the legs gesticulate, then finally remain inert,
+like a clockwork machine whose spring has run down to the last coil."
+(9/10.) This law is general; "the insect is born orphaned both of mother
+and father, excepting the social insect, and again excepting the dung-
+beetle, which dies full of days." (9/11.)
+
+Moreover, Fabre is never weary of demonstrating that the insect, perfectly
+unconscious of the motive which makes it act, this thereby incapable of
+profiting by the lessons of experience and of innovation in its habits,
+beyond a very narrow circle. "No apprentices, no masters." In this world
+each obeys "the inner voice" on its own account; each sets itself to
+accomplish its task, not only without troubling as to what its neighbour is
+doing, but without thinking any further as to what it is doing itself;
+instance the Epeïra, turning its back on its work, yet "the latter proceeds
+of itself, so well is the mechanism devised"; and if by ill chance the
+spider acted otherwise it would probably fail.
+
+Darwin knew barely the tenth part of the colossal work of Fabre. He had
+read firstly in the "Annals of Natural Science" of the habits of the
+Cerceris and the fabulous history of the Meloidae. Finally he saw the first
+volume of the "Souvenirs" appear, and was interested in the highest degree
+by the beautiful study on the sense of location and direction in the Mason-
+bees.
+
+This was already more than enough to excite his curiosity and to make him
+wonder whether all his philosophy would not stumble over this obstacle.
+
+After having succeeded in explaining so luminously--and with what a lofty
+purview--the origin of species and the whole concatenation of animal forms,
+would it not be as though he halted midway in his task were the sanctuary
+of the origin of instinct to remain for ever inscrutable?
+
+Fabre had not yet left Orange when Darwin engaged in a curious
+correspondence which lasted until the former had been nearly two years at
+Sérignan, and which showed how passionately interested the great theorist
+of evolution was in all the Frenchman's surprising observations.
+
+It seems that on his side Fabre took a singular interest in the discussion
+on account of the absolute sincerity, the obvious desire to arrive at the
+truth, and also the ardent interest in his own studies, of which Darwin's
+letters were full. He conceived a veritable affection for Darwin, and
+commenced to learn English, the better to understand him and to reply more
+precisely; and a discussion on such a subject between these two great
+minds, who were, apparently, adversaries, but who had conceived an infinite
+respect for one another, promised to be prodigiously interesting.
+
+Unhappily death was soon to put an end to it, and when the solitary of Down
+expired in 1882 the hermit of Sérignan saluted his great shade with real
+emotion. How many times have I heard him render homage to this illustrious
+memory!
+
+But the furrow was traced; thenceforth Fabre never ceased to multiply his
+pin-pricks in "the vast and luminous balloon of transformism (evolution),
+in order to empty it and expose it in all its inanity." (9/12.) By no means
+the least original feature of his work is this passionate and incisive
+argument, in which, with a remarkable power of dialectic, and at times in a
+tone of lively banter, he endeavoured to remove "this comfortable pillow
+from those who have not the courage to inquire into its fundamental
+nature." He attacked these "adventurous syntheses, these superb and
+supposedly philosophic deductions," all the more eagerly because he himself
+had an unshakable faith in the absolute certainty of his own discoveries,
+and because he asserted the reality of things only after he had observed
+and re-observed them to satiety.
+
+This is why he cared so little to engage in argument relating to his own
+works; he did not care for discussion; he was indifferent to the daily
+press; he avoided criticism and controversy, and never replied to the
+attacks which were made upon him; he rather took pains to surround himself
+with silence until the day when he felt that his researches were ripe and
+ready for publicity.
+
+He wrote to his dear friend Devillario, shortly after Darwin's death:
+
+"I have made a rule of never replying to the remarks, whether favourable or
+the reverse, which my writings may evoke. I go my own gait, indifferent
+whether the gallery applauds or hisses. To seek the truth is my only
+preoccupation. If some are dissatisfied with the result of my observations-
+-if their pet theories are damaged thereby--let them do the work
+themselves, to see whether the facts tell another story. My problem cannot
+be solved by polemics; patient study alone can throw a little light on the
+subject. (9/13.)
+
+"I am profoundly indifferent to what the newspapers may say about me," he
+wrote to his brother seventeen years later; "it is enough for me if I am
+pretty well satisfied with my own work." (9/14.)
+
+He read all the letters he received only in a superficial manner,
+neglecting to thank those who praised or congratulated him, and above all
+shrinking from all that idle correspondence in which life is wasted without
+aim or profit.
+
+"I fume and swear when I have to cut into my morning in order to reply to
+so-and-so who sends me, in print or manuscript, his meed of praise; if I
+were not careful I should have no time left for far more important work."
+
+His beloved Frédéric, "the best of his friends," was himself often treated
+no better, and to excuse his silence and the infrequency of his letters,
+Henri, even in the years spent at Carpentras and Ajaccio, could plead only
+the same reasons; his stupendous labours, his exhausting task, "which
+overwhelmed him, and was often too great, not for his courage, but for his
+time and his strength." (9/15.)
+
+Nevertheless, while evading the question of origins, his far-sighted
+intellect was bound to "read from the facts" concerning the genesis of new
+species in process of evolution; and his observations throw a singular
+light on the quite recent theory of sudden mutations.
+
+The nymph of the Onthophagus presents "a strange paraphernalia of horns and
+spurs which the organism has produced in a moment of ardour--a luxurious
+panoply which vanishes in the adult."
+
+The nymph of the Oniticella also decks itself in "a temporary horn, which
+departs when it emerges."
+
+And "as the dung-beetle is recent in the general chronology of creatures,
+as it takes rank among the last comers, as the geological strata are mute
+concerning it, it is possible that these horn-like processes, which always
+degenerate before they reach completion, may be not a reminiscence but a
+promise, a gradual elaboration of new organs, timid attempts which the
+centuries will harden to a complete armour, AND IF THIS WERE SO THE PRESENT
+WOULD TEACH US WHAT THE FUTURE IS TO BE." (9/16.)
+
+Here is a specific transformation, a veritable creation; fortuitous, blind,
+and silent; one of those innumerable attempts which nature is always
+making, for the moment a mere matter of hazard, until some propitious
+circumstance fixes it in future incarnations.
+
+Thus millions of indeterminate creatures are incessantly roughed out in the
+substance of that microcosm which is the initial cell; and it is here that
+Fabre sees the real secret of the law of evolution.
+
+He refutes the great principle of Leibnitz, which was so brilliantly
+adopted by Darwin, that changes occur by degrees, by "fine shades," by slow
+variations, as the result of successive adaptations, and that there is no
+jumping-off place in nature. On the contrary, life often passes suddenly
+from one form to another, by abrupt and capricious leaps, by irregular and
+disorderly steps, and it is in the egg that Fabre sees the first lineaments
+of these mysterious and spontaneous variations.
+
+Species are therefore born as a whole, each at the same time, AT THE SAME
+MOMENT, "bringing into being its new organism, with its individual
+properties and peculiarities, its indelible and innate faculties and
+tendencies, like "so many medals, each struck with a different die, which
+the gnawing tooth of time attacks only sooner or later to annihilate it."
+
+However, Fabre affirms the continuity of progress; he believes in a better
+and more merciful future, a more complete humanity, ruled by more
+harmonious or less brutal laws.
+
+With what profound intelligence and what generous enthusiasm he seeks to
+conjecture what this future might be, in his beautiful observations on the
+young of the Lycosa (9/17.), which can live for weeks and months in
+absolute abstinence, although we can perceive no reserve of nutriment!
+
+We know no other sources of animal activity save the energy derived from
+food. Vegetables draw the materials of their nourishment from the soil and
+the air, and the sunlight is only an intermediary which enables the plant
+to fix its carbon. The animal species in turn borrow the elements
+indispensable to their existence from the vegetable world, or restore their
+flesh and blood with the flesh and blood of other animals.
+
+Now the young Lycosae "are not inert on their mother's back; if they fall
+from the maternal chine they quickly pick themselves up and climb up one of
+her legs, and once back in place they have to preserve the equilibrium of
+the mass. In reality they know no such thing as complete repose. What then
+is the energetic aliment which enables the little Lycosae to struggle?
+Whence is the heat expended in action derived?"
+
+Fabre sees no other source than "the sun."
+
+"Every day, if the sky is clear, the Lycosa, loaded with her little ones,
+crawls to the edge of her well, and for long hours lies in the sun. There,
+on the maternal back, the young ones stretch themselves out, saturate
+themselves in the sunshine, charging themselves with motor reserves,
+steeping themselves in energy, directly converting into movement the
+calorific radiations coming from the sun, the centre of all life."
+
+The Scorpion also is able to live for months without nourishment, restoring
+directly, in the form of movement, "the effluvia emanating from the sun or
+from other ambient energies--heat, electricity, light--which are the soul
+of the world."
+
+Perhaps, among the innumerable worlds of space, there is somewhere,
+gravitating round a fixed star, a planet invisible to us where "the
+sunlight sates the hunger of the blind."
+
+The gentle philosophy of the ingenious dreamer soothes itself with the
+vision, entertained by great and noble minds, of a humanity "whose teeth
+will no longer attack sensible life, nor even the pulp of fruits"; "when
+creatures will devour one another no longer, will no longer feed upon the
+dead; when they will be nourished by the sunlight, without conflict,
+without war, without labour; freed from all care, and assured against all
+needs!"
+
+Thus, in the humblest creatures, he sees the most marvellous perspectives;
+the body of the lowest insect becomes suddenly a transcendent secret,
+lighting up the abyss of the human soul, or giving it a glimpse of the
+stars.
+
+And although his work is in contradiction to the theories of the
+evolutionists, it ends with the same moral conclusion, namely, that all
+creation moves slowly and without intermission on its gradual ascent
+towards progress.
+
+
+CHAPTER 10. THE ANIMAL MIND.
+
+The cunning anatomist has now successively laid bare all the springs of the
+animal intellect; he has shown how the various movements are mutually
+combined and engaged. But so far we have seen only one of the faces of the
+little mind of the animal; let us now consider the other aspect, the moral
+side, the region of feeling, the problem of which is confounded with the
+problem of instinct, and is doubtless fundamentally only another aspect of
+the same elemental power.
+
+After the conflict the insect manifests its delight; it seems sometimes to
+exult in its triumph; "beside the caterpillar which it has just stabbed
+with its sting, and which lies writhing on the ground," the Ammophila
+"stamps, gesticulates, beats her wings," capers about, sounding victory in
+an intoxication of delight.
+
+The sense of property exists in a high degree among the Mason-bees; with
+them right comes before might, and "the intruder is always finally
+dislodged." (10/1.)
+
+But can we find in the insect anything analogous to what we term devotion,
+attachment, affectionate feeling? There are facts which lead us to believe
+we may.
+
+Let us go once more into Fabre's garden and admire the Thomisus: absorbed
+in her maternal function, the little spider lying flat on her nest can
+strive no longer and is wasting away, but persists in living, mere ruin
+that she is, in order to open the door to her family with one last bite.
+Feeling under the silken roof her offspring stamping with impatience, but
+knowing that they have not strength to liberate themselves, she perforates
+the capsule, making a sort of practicable skylight. This duty accomplished,
+she quietly surrenders to death, still grappled to her nest.
+
+The Psyche, dominated by a kind of unconscious necessity, protects her
+nursery by means of her body, anchors herself upon the threshold, and
+perishes there, devoted to her family even in death.
+
+However, Fabre will show us with infallible logic that all these instances
+of foresight and maternal tenderness have, as a rule, no other motive than
+pleasure and the blind impulse which urges the insect to follow only the
+fatal path of its instincts.
+
+In many species the material fact of maternity is reduced to its simplest
+expression.
+
+The Pieris limits herself to depositing her eggs on the leaves of the
+cabbage, "on which the young must themselves find food and shelter."
+
+"From the height of the topmost clusters of the centaury the Clythris
+negligently lets her eggs fall to the ground, one by one, here or there at
+hazard; without the least care as to their installation.
+
+"The eggs of the Locustidae are implanted in the earth like seeds and
+germinate like grain."
+
+But stop before the Lycosa, that magnificent type of maternal love which
+Fabre has already depicted. "She broods over her eggs with anxious
+affection. With the hinder claws resting on the margin of the well she
+holds herself supported above the opening of the white sac, which is
+swollen with eggs. For several long weeks she exposes it to the sun during
+half the day. Gently she turns it about in order to present every side to
+the vivifying light. The bird, in order to hatch her eggs, covers them with
+the down of her breast, and presses them against that living calorifer, her
+heart. The Lycosa turns hers about beneath the fires of heaven; she gives
+them the sun for incubator." (10.2.) Could abnegation be more perfect? What
+greater proof could there be of renunciation and self-oblivion?
+
+But appearances are vain. Substitute for the beloved sac some other object,
+and the spider "will turn about, with the same love, as though it were her
+sac of eggs, a piece of cork, a pincushion, or a ball of paper," just as
+the hen, another victim of this sublime deception, will give all her heart
+to hatching the china nest-eggs which have been placed beneath her, and for
+weeks will forget to feed.
+
+The young brood hatches, and the spider goes a-hunting, carrying her little
+ones on her back; she protects them in case of danger, but is incapable of
+recognizing them or of distinguishing them from the young of others. The
+Copris and the Scorpion are no less blind, "and their maternal tenderness
+barely exceeds that of the plant, which, a stranger to any sense of
+affection or morality, none the less exercises the most exquisite care in
+respect of its seeds."
+
+Moreover, the impulse to work is only a kind of unconscious pleasure. When
+the Pelopaeus "has stored her lair with game," when the Cerceris has sealed
+the crypt to which she has confided the future of her race, neither one nor
+the other can foresee "the future offspring which their faceted eyes will
+never behold, and the very object of their labours is to them occult."
+
+With them, as with all, life can only be a perpetual illusion.
+
+Yet the marvellous edifice of the "Souvenirs entomologiques" is consummated
+by the astonishing history of the Minotaur, whose habits surpass in ideal
+beauty all that could be imagined.
+
+At the bottom of a burrow, in a deeply sunken vault, two dung-beetles are
+at work, the Minotaurs, who, once united, recognize one another, and can
+find one another again if separated, but do not voluntarily separate,
+realizing "the moral beauty of the double life" and "the touching concept
+of the family, the sacred group par excellence." The male buries himself
+with his companion, remains faithful to her, comes to her assistance, and
+"stores up treasure for the future. Never discouraged by the heavy labour
+of climbing, leaving to the mother only the more moderate labour, keeping
+the severest for himself, the heavy task of transport in a narrow tunnel,
+very deep and almost vertical, he goes foraging, forgetful of himself,
+heedless of the intoxicating delights of spring, though it would be so good
+to see something of the country, to feast with his brothers, and to pester
+the neighbours; but no! he collects the food which is to nourish his
+children, and then, when all is ready for the new-comers, when their living
+is assured, having spent himself without counting the cost, exhausted by
+his efforts, and feeling himself failing, he leaves his home and goes away
+to die, that he may not pollute the dwelling with a corpse."
+
+The mother, on her side, allows nothing to divert her from her household,
+and only returns to the surface when accompanied by her young, who disperse
+at will. Then, having nothing more to do, the devoted creature perishes in
+turn. (10/3.)
+
+Compared with the Scarabaeus, which contents itself with idle wandering, or
+even with the meritorious Sisyphus, does it not seem that the Minotaur
+moves on an infinitely higher plane?
+
+What nobler could be found among ourselves? What father ever better
+comprehended his duties and obligations toward his family? What morality
+could be more irreproachable; what fairer example could be meditated?
+
+"Is not life everywhere the same, in the body of the dung-beetle as in that
+of man? If we examine it in the insect, do we not examine it in ourselves?"
+
+Whence does the Minotaur derive these particular graces? How has it risen
+to so high a level on the wings of pure instinct? How could we explain the
+rarity of so sublime an example, did we not know, to satiety, that "nature
+everywhere is but an enigmatic poem, as who should say a veiled and misty
+picture, shining with an infinite variety of deceptive lights in order to
+evoke our conjectures"? (10/4.)
+
+Nevertheless, it is a fact that the majority have no other rule of conduct
+than to follow the trend of their instincts, and to obey "their unbridled
+desires." No one better than Fabre has expounded the blind operation of
+these little natural forces, the brutality of their manners, their
+cannibalism, and what we might call their amorality, were it possible to
+employ our human formulae outside our own human world.
+
+With the gardener-beetles, if one is crippled, none of the same race halts
+or lingers; none attempts to come to his aid. Sometimes the passers-by
+hasten to the invalid to devour him."
+
+In the republic of the wasps "the grubs recognized as incurable are
+pitilessly torn from their place and dragged out of the nest. Woe to the
+sick! they are helpless and at once expelled."
+
+When the winter comes all the larvae are massacred, and the whole vespine
+city ends in a horrible tragedy.
+
+But life is a whole, and all conduct is good whose actions realize an
+object and are adapted to an end. If there is a "spirit" of the hive, the
+insect also has its morality and the wasp's nest its "law," and the conduct
+of its inmates, horrible though it may seem to Fabre, is doubtless only a
+submission to certain exigencies of that universal law which makes nature a
+"savage foster-mother who knows nothing of pity."
+
+These cruelties particularly show us that one of the functions of the
+insect in nature is to preside over the disappearance and also the ultimate
+metamorphoses of the least "remnants of life."
+
+Each has its providential hygienic function.
+
+The Necrophori, "the first of the tiny scavengers of the fields," bury
+corpses in order to establish their progeny in them; in the space of a few
+hours an enormous body, a mole, a water-rat, or an adder, will completely
+disappear, buried under the earth.
+
+The Onthophagi purify the soil, "dividing all filth into tiny crumbs,
+ridding the earth of its defilements."
+
+A very small beetle, the Trox, has the imprescriptible mission of purging
+the earth of the rabbits' fur rejected by the fox. (10/5.)
+
+Here structure explains the function.
+
+The intestine of the grub of the rose-beetle "is a veritable triturating
+mill, which transforms vegetable matter into mould; in a month it will
+digest a volume of matter equal to several thousand times the initial
+volume of the grub."
+
+The intestine of the Scarabaei is prolonged to a prodigious length in order
+to "drain the excrement to the last atom in its manifold circuits. The
+sheep has finely divided the vegetable matter; the grub, that incomparable
+triturator, reduces it to the finest possible consistency; not a morsel is
+left in which the magnifying glass can reveal a fibre."
+
+To fulfil its hygienic mission the insect arrives in due season, and
+multiplies its legions; "there are twenty thousand eggs in the flanks of
+the house fly; immediately they are hatched these twenty thousand maggots
+set to work, so that Linnaeus has said that three flies would suffice to
+devour the body of a horse or a lion."
+
+Feeding only upon wheat, a single weevil, the Calendar beetle, produces ten
+thousand eggs, whence issue as many larvae, each of them devouring its
+grain.
+
+In all species the number of births is at first exaggerated, for all, the
+obscure, the nameless, the most destructive, our pests as well as our most
+precious helpers, have their utility and their part to play in the general
+scheme of life, a raison d'être in the eternal renewal of things, which is
+without reference to the vexatious or beneficent quality of their behaviour
+to us.
+
+Each has its rank assigned, each has its task, to one the flower, to
+another the roots, to a third the leaves; the vine has its caterpillars,
+its beetles, its butterflies; the clover, its moths and mites. (10/6.)
+
+Man sees himself forced to submit to them, and spends himself in vain
+efforts to carry on an often useless campaign. Nothing seems to affect
+them, neither drought, nor rain, nor even the severest cold; and the eggs
+and larvae, organizations apparently delicate in the extreme, are often
+more tenacious of life than the adults. Fabre has proved this: let the
+temperature suddenly fall twenty degrees: the eggs of Geotrupes and the
+larvae of the cockchafer or the rose-beetle endure such vicissitudes of
+temperature with impunity; contracted and stiffened into little masses of
+ice, but not destroyed, they revive in spring no less than the eel fry, the
+rotifers, or the tardigrades. One can scarcely believe that life still
+persists in a state of suspense only in these little frozen creatures,
+whose organization is already so complicated.
+
+Then, of a sudden, the ravagers disappear; more often than not none knows
+how or why; deliverance is at hand. What indeed would become of the world
+were nothing to moderate such fecundity?
+
+Again, each species has its trials which appear in time to moderate its
+surplusage, and Fabre expounds for us, with a stern philosophy, the
+terrible devices by which this repression is effected.
+
+Each has its appointed enemy, which lives upon it or its offspring, and
+which in turn becomes the prey of some smaller creature. The gentle itself,
+"the king of the dead," has its parasites. While it swims in the
+deliquescence of putrefying flesh a minute Chalcidian perforates its skin
+with an imperceptible wound, and introduces its terrible eggs, whence in
+the future will issue larvae which to-morrow will devour the devourers of
+to-day.
+
+None exists save to the detriment of others. Everywhere, even in the
+smallest, we find "an atrocious activity, a cunning brigandage," a savage
+extermination, which dominates a vast unconscious world of which the final
+result is the restoration of equilibrium. (10/7.) It is only on these
+antagonisms, on the enemies of our enemies, that we can found any hope of
+seeing this or that pest disappear. A small Hymenopteron, almost invisible,
+the Microgaster glomeratus, is entrusted with the destruction of the
+cabbage caterpillar; the cochineal wages war to the death upon the green-
+fly; the Ammophila is the predestined murderer of the harvest Noctuela,
+whose misdeeds in a beetroot country often amount to a disaster. The
+Odynerus has for its instinctive mission to arrest the excessive
+multiplication of a lucerne weevil, no less than twenty-four of whose grubs
+are necessary to rear the offspring of the brigand, and nearly sixty
+gadflies are sacrificed to the growth of a single Bembex.
+
+Everywhere craft is organized to triumph over force. Around each nest the
+parasites lie in wait, "atrocious assassins of the child in the cradle,
+watching at the doors for the favourable occasion to establish their family
+at the expense of others. The enemy penetrates the most inaccessible
+fortress; each has its tactics of war, devised with a terrible art. Of the
+nest and the cocoon of the victim the intruder makes its own nest, its own
+cocoon, and in the following year, instead of the master of the house, he
+will emerge from underground as the usurping bandit, the devourer of the
+inhabitant."
+
+While the cicada is absorbed in laying her eggs an insignificant fly
+labours to destroy them. How express the calm audacity of this pigmy,
+following closely after the colossus, step by step; several at once almost
+under the talons of the giant, which could crush them merely by treading on
+them? But the cicada respects them, or they would long ago have
+disappeared." (10/8.)
+
+Fabre thus agrees with Pasteur, who in the world of the infinitely little
+shows us the same antagonisms, the same vital competition, the same eternal
+movement of flux and reflux, the same whirlpool of life, which is
+extinguished only to reappear: tending always towards an equilibrium which
+is incessantly destroyed. And it is thanks to this balancing that the
+integral of life remains everywhere and always almost identical with
+itself.
+
+
+CHAPTER 11. HARMONIES AND DISCORDS.
+
+Such indeed is the economy of nature that secret relations and astonishing
+concordances exist throughout the whole vast weft of things. There are no
+loose ends; everything is consequent and ordered. Hidden harmonies meet and
+mingle.
+
+Among the terebinth lice, "when the population is mature, the gall is ripe
+also, so fully do the calendars of the shrub and the animal coincide"; and
+the mortal enemy of the Halictus, the sinister midge of the springtime, is
+hatched at the very moment when the bee begins to wander in search of a
+location for its burrows.
+
+The fantastic history of the larvae of the Anthrax furnishes us with one of
+the most suggestive examples of these strange coincidences. (10/9.)
+
+The Anthrax is a black fly, which sows its eggs on the surface of the nests
+of the Mason-bee, whose larvae are at the moment reposing in their silken
+cocoons.
+
+"The grub of the Anthrax emerges and comes to life under the touch of the
+sunlight. Its cradle is the rugged surface of the cell; it is welcomed into
+the world by a literally stony harshness...Obstinately it probes the chinks
+and pores of the nest; glides over it, crawls forward, returns, and
+recommences. The radicle of the germinating seed is not more persevering,
+not more determined to descend into the cool damp earth. What inspiration
+impels it? What compass guides it? What does the root know of the fertility
+of the soil?...The nurseling, the seed of the Anthrax, is barely visible,
+almost escaping the gaze of the magnifying glass; a mere atom compared to
+the monstrous foster-mother which it will drain to the very skin. Its mouth
+is a sucker, with neither fangs nor jaws, incapable of producing the
+smallest wound; it sucks in place of eating, and its attack is a kiss." It
+practises, in short, a most astonishing art, "another variation of the
+marvellous art of feeding on the victim without killing it until the end of
+the meal, in order always to have a store of fresh meat. During the
+fourteen days through which the nourishment of the Anthrax continues, the
+aspect of the larva remains that of living flesh; until all its substance
+has been literally transferred, by a kind of transpiration, to the body of
+the nurseling, and the victim, slowly exhausted, drained to the last drop,
+while retaining to the end just enough life to prove refractory to
+decomposition, is reduced to the mere skin, which, being insufflated, puffs
+itself out and resumes the precise form of the larva, there being nowhere a
+point of escape for the compressed air."
+
+Now the grub of the Anthrax "appears precisely at the exact moment when the
+larva of the Chalicodoma is attacked by that lethargy which precedes
+metamorphosis, and which renders it insensible, and during which the
+substance of the grub about to be transfigured into a bee commences to
+break down and resolve itself into a liquid pulp, for the processes of life
+always liquefy the grub before achieving the perfect insect." (11/2.)
+
+Here again the time-tables coincide.
+
+But it is perhaps in the celebrated Odyssey of the grub of the Sitaris that
+Fabre most urgently claims our admiration for the marvellous and
+incomprehensible wisdom of the Unconscious!
+
+Let us recapitulate the unheard-of series of events, the inextricable
+complication of circumstances, which are required to condition the lowly
+life of a Sitaris.
+
+In the first place, this microscopic creature must be provided with talons,
+or how could it adhere to the fleece of the Anthophora, on which it must
+live as parasite for a certain length of time?
+
+Then again, it must transfer itself from the male to the female bee in the
+course of its travels abroad, or its destiny would be cut short.
+
+Again, it must not miss the opportunity of embarking itself upon the egg
+just at the propitious moment.
+
+Then the volume of this egg must be so calculated as to represent an
+allowance of food exactly proportioned to the duration of the first phase
+of its metamorphosis. Moreover, the quantity of honey accumulated by the
+bee must suffice for the whole of the remaining cycle of its larval
+existence.
+
+Let a single link of the chain be broken, and the entire species of the
+Sitaris is no longer possible.
+
+If every species has its law; if the Geotrupes remain faithful to filth,
+although experience shows that they can accommodate themselves equally well
+to the putrefaction of decayed leaves; if the predatory species--the
+Cerceris, the Sphex, the Ammophila--resort only to one species of quarry to
+nourish their larvae, although these same larvae accept all indifferently,
+it is on account of those superior economic laws and secret alliances the
+profound reasons for which as a rule escape us or are beyond the scope of
+our theories.
+
+For all things are produced and interlocked by the eternal necessity; link
+engages in link, and life is only a plexus of solitary forces allied among
+themselves by their very nature, the condition of which is harmony. And the
+whole system of living creatures appears to us, through the work of the
+great naturalist, as an immense organism, a sort of vast physiological
+apparatus, of which all the parts are mutually interdependent, and as
+narrowly controlled as all the cells of the human body.
+
+Fabre goes on to present us with other facts, which at a first glance
+appear highly immoral; I am referring to certain phases of sexual love
+among the lower animals, and his ghoulish revelations concerning the
+horrible bridals of the Arachnoids, the Millepoda, and the Locustidae.
+
+The Decticus surrenders only to a single exploit of love; a victim of its
+"strange genesics"; utterly exhausted by the first embrace, empty, drained,
+extenuated, motionless in all its members, utterly worn out, it quickly
+succumbs, a mere broken simulacrum, like the miserable lover of a monstrous
+succubus who "loves him enough to devour him." (11/3.)
+
+The female scorpion devours the male; "all is gone but the tail!"
+
+The female Spider delights in the flesh of her lover.
+
+The cricket also devours a small portion of her "debonair" admirer.
+
+The Ephippigera "excavates the stomach of her companion and eats him."
+
+But the horror of these nuptial tragedies is surpassed by the insatiable
+lust, the monstrous conjunction, the bestial delights of the Mantis, that
+"ferocious spectre, never wearied of embraces, munching the brains of its
+spouse at the very moment of surrendering her flanks to him." (11/4.)
+
+Whence these strange discords, these frightful appetites?
+
+Fabre refers us to the remotest ages, to the depths of the geological
+night, and does not hesitate to regard these cruelties as "remnants of
+atavism," the lingering furies of an ancient strain, and he ventures a
+profound and plausible explanation.
+
+The Locusts, the Crickets, and the Scolopendrae are the last
+representatives of a very ancient world, of an extinct fauna, of an early
+creation, whose perverse and unbridled instincts were given free vent, when
+creation was as yet but dimly outlined, "still making the earliest essays
+of its organizing forces"; when the primitive Orthoptera, "the obscure
+forebears of those of to-day, were "sowing the wild oats of a frantic rut,
+"in the colossal forests of the secondary period; by the borders of the
+vast lakes, full of crocodiles, and antediluvian marshes, which in Provence
+were shaded by palms, and strange ferns, and giant Lycopodia, never as yet
+enlivened by the song of a bird.
+
+These monstrosities, in which life was making its essays, were subject to
+singular physical necessities. The female reigned alone; the male did not
+as yet exist, or was tolerated only for the sake of his indispensable
+assistance. But he served also another and less obvious end; his substance,
+or at least some portion of his substance, was an almost necessary
+ingredient in the act of generation, something in the nature of a necessary
+excitant of the ovaries, "a horrible titbit," which completed and
+consummated the great task of fecundation. Such, in Fabre's eyes, was the
+imperious physiological reason of these rude laws. This is why the love of
+the males is almost equivalent to their suicide; the Gardener-beetle,
+attacked by the female, attempts to flee, but does not defend himself; "it
+is as though an invincible repugnance prevents him from repulsing or from
+eating the eater." In the same way the male scorpion "allows himself to be
+devoured by his companion without ever attempting to employ his sting," and
+the lover of the Mantis "allows himself to be nibbled to pieces without any
+revolt on his part."
+
+A strange morality, but not more strange than the organic peculiarities
+which are its foundation; a strange world, but perhaps some distant sun may
+light others like it.
+
+These terrible creatures are a source of dismay to Fabre. If all things
+proceed from an underlying Reason, if the divine harmony of things
+testifies everywhere to a sovereign Logic, how shall the proofs of its
+excellence and its sovereign wisdom be found in such things as these?
+
+Far from attributing to the order of the universe a supposed perfection,
+far from considering nature as the most immediate expression of the Good
+and the Beautiful, in the words of Tolstoy (11/5.), he sees in it only a
+rough sketch which a hidden God, hidden, but close at hand, and living
+eternally present in the heart of His creatures, is seeking to test and to
+shape.
+
+Living always with his eyes upon some secret of the marvels of God, whom he
+sees in every bush, in every tree, "although He is veiled from our
+imperfect senses" (11/6.), the vilest insect reveals to him, in the least
+of its actions, a fragment of this universal Intelligence.
+
+What marvels indeed when seen from above! But consider the Reverse--what
+antinomies, what flagrant contradictions! What poor and sordid means! And
+Fabre is astonished, in spite of all his candid faith, that the fatality of
+the belly should have entered into the Divine plan, and the necessity of
+all those atrocious acts in which the Unconscious delights. Could not God
+ensure the preservation of life by less violent means? Why these
+subterranean dramas, these slow assassinations? Why has Evil, THE POISON OF
+THE GOOD (11/7.), crept in everywhere, even to the origin of life, like an
+eternal Parasite?
+
+Within this fatal circle, in which the devourer and the devoured, the
+exploiter and the exploited, lead an eternal dance, can we not perceive a
+ray of light?
+
+For what is it that we see?
+
+The victims are not merely the predestined victims of their persecutors.
+They seek neither to struggle nor to escape nor to evade the inevitable;
+one might say that by a kind of renunciation they offer themselves up whole
+as a sacrifice!
+
+What irresistible destiny impels the bee to meet half-way the Philanthus,
+its terrible enemy! The Tarantula, which could so easily withstand the
+Pompilus, when the latter rashly carries war into its lair, does not
+disturb itself, and never dreams of using its poisoned fangs. Not less
+absolute is the submission of the grasshopper before the Mantis, which
+itself has its tyrant, the Tachytes.
+
+Similarly those which have reason to fear for their offspring, if not for
+themselves, do nothing to evade the enemy which watches for them; the
+Megachile, although it could easily destroy it, is indifferent to the
+presence of a miserable midge, "the bandit who is always there, meditating
+its crime"; the Bembex, confronted with the Tachinarius, cannot control its
+terror, but nevertheless resigns itself, while squeaking with fright.
+
+If each creature is what it is only because it is a necessary part of the
+plan of the supreme Artisan who has constructed the universe, why have some
+the right of life and death and others the terrible duty of immolation?
+
+Do not both obey, not the gloomy law of carnage, but a kind of sovereign
+and exquisite sacrifice, some sort of unconscious idea of submission to a
+superior and collective interest?
+
+This hypothesis, which was one day suggested to Fabre by a friend of great
+intellectual culture (11/8.), charmed and interested him keenly. I noticed
+that he was more than usually attentive, and he seemed to me to be suddenly
+reassured and appeased. For him it was as though a faint ray of light had
+suddenly fallen among these impenetrable and distressing problems.
+
+It seemed to him that by setting before our eyes the spectacle of so many
+woes, universally distributed, and doubtless necessary, woes which do not
+spare even the humblest of creatures, the Sovereign Intelligence intends to
+exhort us to examine ourselves truly and to dispose us to greater love and
+pity and resignation.
+
+All his work is highly and essentially religious; and while he has given us
+a taste for nature, he has not also endeavoured to give us, according to
+the expression of Bossuet "the taste for God," or at least a sense of the
+divine? In opposing the doctrine of evolution, which reduces the animal
+world to the mere virtualities of the cell; in revealing to us all these
+marvels which seem destined always to escape human comprehension; finally,
+by referring us more necessarily than ever to the unfathomable problem of
+our origins, Fabre has reopened the door of mystery, the door of the divine
+Unknown, in which the religion of men must always renew itself. We should
+belittle his thought, we should dwarf the man himself, were we to seek to
+confine to any particular thesis his spiritualistic conception of the
+universe.
+
+Fabre recognizes and adores in nature only the great eternal Power, whose
+imprint is everywhere revealed by the phenomena of matter.
+
+For this reason he has all his life remained free from all superstition and
+has been completely indifferent to dogmas and miracles, which to his mind
+imply not only a profound ignorance of science, but also a gross and
+complete miscomprehension of the divine Intelligence. He kneels upon the
+ground or among the grasses only the more closely to adore that force, the
+source of all order, the intuitive knowledge of which, innate in all
+creatures, even in the tiny immovable minds of animals, is merely a
+magnificent and gratuitous gift. The office in which he eagerly
+communicates is that glorious and formidable Mass in which the ragged
+sower, "noble in his tatters, a pontiff in shabby small-clothes, solemn as
+a God, blesses the soil, more majestic than the bishop in his glory at
+Easter-tide." (11/9.) It is there that he finds his "Ideal," in the incense
+of the perfumes "which are softly exhaled from the shapely flowers, from
+their censers of gold," in the heart of all creatures, "chaffinch and
+siskin, skylark and goldfinch, tiny choristers" piping and trilling,
+"elaborating their motets" to the glory of Him who gave them voice and
+wings on the fifth day of Genesis. He fraternizes with all, with his dogs
+and his cats, his tame tortoise, and even the "slimy and swollen frog"; the
+"Philosopher" of the Harmas, whose murky eyes he loves to interrogate as he
+paces his garden "by the light of the stars"; persuaded that all are
+accomplishing a useful work, and that all creatures, from the humblest
+insect which has only nibbled a leaf, or displaced a few grains of sand, to
+man himself, are anointed with the same chrism of immortality.
+
+And as he has always set the pleasures of study before all others, he can
+imagine no greater recompense after death than to obtain from heaven
+permission still to continue in their midst, during eternity, his life of
+labour and effort.
+
+
+CHAPTER 12. THE INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.
+
+We have noted the essential features of his precise and unfailing vision
+and the value of the documents which record the work of Fabre, but the
+writer merits no less attention than the observer and the philosopher.
+
+In the domain of things positive, it is not always sufficient to gather the
+facts, to record them, and to codify in bare formulae the results of
+inquiry. Doubtless every essential discovery is able to stand by itself; in
+what would an inventor profit, for example, by raising himself to the level
+of the artist? "For the theorem lucidity suffices; truth issues naked from
+the bottom of a well."
+
+But the manner of speaking, describing, and depicting is none the less an
+integral part of the truth when it is a matter of expounding and
+transmitting the latter. To express it feebly is often to compromise it, to
+diminish it; and even to betray it. There are terms which say better than
+others what has to be said. "Words have their physiognomy; if there are
+lifeless words, there are also picturesque and richly-coloured words,
+comparable to the brush strokes which scatter flecks of light on the grey
+background of the picture." There are particular terms of expression,
+felicities which present things in a better light, and the writer must
+search in his memory, his imagination, and his heart, for the fitting
+accent; for the flexibility of language and the wealth of words which are
+needful if he would fully succeed in the portrayal of living creatures; if
+he would tender the living truth, reproduce in all its light and shade the
+spectacle of the world, arouse the imagination, and faithfully interpret
+the mysterious spirit which impregnates matter and is reflected in thought.
+
+The artist then comes forward to co-ordinate all these scattered fragments,
+to assemble them, to breathe vitality into them, to restore these inert
+truths to life.
+
+But what a strange manner of working was Fabre's; what a curious method of
+composition! However full of ideas his mind might be, he was incapable of
+expressing them if he remained in one place and assumed the ordinary
+preliminary attitude of a man preparing to write. Seated and motionless,
+his limbs at rest, pen in hand, with a blank page before him, it seemed to
+him that all his faculties became of a sudden paralysed. He must first move
+about; activity helped him to pursue his ideas; it was in action that he
+recovered his ardour and uncovered the sources of inspiration. Just as he
+never observed without enthusiasm, so he found it impossible to write
+without exaltation, and it was precisely because he so ardently loved the
+truth that he felt himself compelled to show it in all its beauty.
+
+Moving like a circus-horse about the great table of his laboratory, he
+would begin to tramp indefatigably round and round, so that his steps have
+worn in the tiles of the floor an ineffaceable record of the concentric
+track in which they moved incessantly for thirty years.
+
+His mind would grow clear and active as he walked, smoking his pipe and
+"using his marrow-bones." (12/1.) He was already at work; he was
+"hammering" his future chapters in his brain; for the idea would be all the
+more precise as the form was more finished and more irreproachable, more
+closely identified with the thought; he would wait until the word quivered,
+palpitated, and lived; until the transcription was no longer an illusion, a
+phantom, a vision devoid of reality, but a faithful echo, a sincere
+translation, a finished interpretation, reflecting entire the fundamental
+essence of the thing; in a word, a work of art, a parallel to nature.
+
+Then only would he sit before the little walnut-wood table "spotted with
+ink and scarred with knife-cuts, just big enough to hold the inkstand, a
+halfpenny bottle, and his open notebook": that same little table at which,
+in other days, by force of meditation, he achieved his first degrees.
+
+Then he would begin to write, "his pen dipped not in ink only" but in his
+heart's blood (12/2.); first of all in ordinary ruled notebooks bound in
+black cloth, in which he noted, day by day, hour by hour, the observations
+of every moment, the results of his experiments, together with his thoughts
+and reflections. Little by little those documents would come together which
+elucidated and completed one another, and at last the book was written.
+These notebooks, these copious records, are remarkable for the regularity
+of the writing and the often impeccable finish of the first draught.
+Although here and there the same data are transcribed several times in
+succession, and each time struck through with a vigorous stroke of the pen,
+there are whole pages, and many pages together, without a single erasure.
+The handwriting, excessively small--one might think it had been traced by
+the feet of a fly--becomes in later years so minute that one almost needs a
+magnifying glass to decipher it.
+
+These notebooks are not the final manuscript. The entomologist would write
+a new and more perfect copy on loose sheets of paper, making one draught
+after another, patiently fashioning his style and polishing his work,
+although many passages were included without revision as they were written
+in the first instance.
+
+The greatest magician of modern letters, versed in all the artifices of the
+French language, speaking one day of Fabre and his writings, made in my
+hearing the assertion that he was not, properly speaking, an artist. He
+might well be a great naturalist, a veteran of science, an observer of
+genius, but he was by no means and would never be a writer according to the
+canons of the craft.
+
+But how many others, like him, in their time regarded as "pitiable in
+respect of their language," charm us to-day, simply because they were
+gifted with imagination and the power of giving life to their work! (12/3.)
+
+To tell the truth, Fabre is absolutely careless of all literary procedure,
+and solely preoccupied with bringing his style into harmony with his
+thoughts; he is not in the least a manufacturer of literary phrases. There
+is no trace of artistic writing in his books, and it is only his manner of
+feeling and of expressing himself that makes him so dear to us.
+
+What touches us in him is the accent, the simplicity, the measure, the good
+sense, and the perfect equilibrium of each of these pages: simple, often
+commonplace, even incorrect or trivial, but so alive, so human, that the
+blood seems to flow in them. It is the lover in Fabre that draws us to him;
+nothing quite like his work has been seen since the days of Jean de La
+Fontaine.
+
+He has liberated science; he laughs at the specialists who take refuge
+behind their "barbarian terminologies," at the "jargon" of those "who see
+the world only through the wrong end of the glass"; at the exaggerated
+importance which they attribute to insignificant details, the narrowness of
+classifications, and the chaos of systems; all that incoherent, remote, and
+inaccessible science, which he, on the contrary, strives to render pleasant
+and attractive.
+
+This is why the great scientist has endeavoured to speak like other people,
+preferring, to the harsh consonants of technical phrases which sound "like
+insults" or have the air of "a magical invocation, which make certain
+scientific works read like so much gibberish," the "naive and picturesque
+appellation, the familiar, trivial name, the popular, living term which
+directly interprets the exact signification of the habits of an insect, or
+informs us fully of its dominant characteristic, or which, at least, leaves
+nothing to conjecture."
+
+He considers it useless and even inconvenient to abandon many charming
+expressions, appropriate and significant as they are, which may be borrowed
+from the good old French tongue; and in this he resembles the immortal de
+Jussieu, who in his botanical classifications was careful not to discard
+the old popular denominations which Theophrastus, Virgil, and Linnaeus had
+thought fit to bestow upon plant and tree.
+
+It is for the same reasons that he loves the Provençal tongue; that
+beautiful idiom, that superb language, rich in music, in sonorous words, so
+suggestive and so full of colour, many of whose terms, saying precisely
+what they intend to say, have no equivalent in French. He has learned the
+language, and reads it: in particular Roumanille, whose easy, familiar
+style pleases him better than the grandiloquence of Mistral, although he
+delights also in Calendal, whose lyrical powers fill him with enthusiasm.
+>From this ancient tongue, which was early as familiar to him as the French,
+he borrowed certain mannerisms, certain tricks of style, certain
+neologisms, and also, to some extent, his simplicity of manner and the
+cadence of his prose.
+
+It was not without difficulty that he attained this mastery. Measure the
+gulf between his first volumes and his last; in the first the style is
+slightly nerveless and indefinite: it was only as he gradually advanced in
+his career that he acquired what may be called his final manner, or
+achieved, in his narratives, a perfect literary style. The most
+substantially constructed, the most happily expressed of his pages were
+written principally in his extreme old age. Not only is there no sign of
+failing in these, but in his latest "Souvenirs" the perfection of form is
+perhaps even more remarkable than the wealth of matter.
+
+How vitally his scrupulous records impress the mind's eye; how firmly they
+establish themselves in the memory!
+
+Even if one has never seen the Pelopaeus, one readily conceives an
+impression of "her wasp-like costume, and curving abdomen, suspended at the
+end of a long thread." What exactitude in this snapshot, taken at the
+moment when the insect is occupied in scooping out of the mire the lump of
+mud intended for the construction of her nest: "like a skilled housekeeper,
+with her clothing carefully tucked up that it may not be soiled, the wings
+vibrating, the limbs rigidly straightened, the black abdomen well raised on
+the end of its yellow stalk, she rakes the mud with the points of her
+mandibles, skimming the shining surface." (12/4.)
+
+He draws, in passing, this charming sketch of the gadfly, the pest of
+horses, which nourishes itself with their blood:
+
+"Gadflies of several species used to take refuge under the silken dome of
+my umbrella, and there they would quietly rest, one here, one there, on the
+tightly stretched fabric; I rarely lacked their company when the heat was
+overpowering. To while away the hours of waiting, I used to love to watch
+their great golden eyes, which would shine like carbuncles on the vaulted
+ceiling of my shelter; I used to love to watch them slowly change their
+stations, when the excessive heat of some point of the ceiling would force
+them to move a little." (12/5.)
+
+We follow all the manoeuvres of the Balaninus, the acorn-weevil, "burying
+her drill" which "operates by means of little bites." The narrator calls
+our attention to the slightest episodes, even to those accidents which
+sometimes surprise the worker in the course of her labours; when, with the
+rostrum buried deep in the acorn, her feet suddenly lose their hold. Then
+the unhappy creature, unable to free herself, finds herself suspended in
+the air, at right angles to her proboscis, far from any foothold or point
+of vantage, at the extremity of her disproportionately long pike, that
+"fatal stake." (12/6.)
+
+As for the poplar-weevil, we can almost see it moving "in the subtlest
+equilibrium, clinging with its hooked talons to the slippery surface of the
+leaf"; we watch all the details of its methods and the progress of its
+labours. We see the flexed leaf assume the vertical under the awl-stroke
+which the insect applies to the pedicle, "when, partially deprived of sap,
+the leaf becomes more flexible, more malleable; it is in a sense partly
+paralysed, only half alive." Then we follow the rolling process; "the
+imperturbable deliberation of the worker as it rolls its cigar, which
+finally hangs perpendicularly at the end of the bent and wounded stem."
+(12/7.)
+
+Fabre, like a true artist, finds all sorts of expressions to describe the
+tiny, fragile eggs of his insects; little shining pearls, delicious coffers
+of nickel or amber, miniature pots of translucid alabaster, "which we might
+think were stolen from the cupboard of a fairy."
+
+He opens the enchanted alcoves wherein the puny grubs lie slumbering, "fat,
+rounded puppets"; the tender larvae which "gape and swing their heads to
+and fro" when the mother returns to the nest with her toothsome mouthful or
+her crop swollen with honey.
+
+What compassion, what tenderness, what sensitiveness in the affecting
+picture of the mother Halictus, abandoned, deprived of her offspring,
+bewildered and lost, when the terrible spring fly has destroyed her house:
+bald, emaciated, shabby, careworn, already dogged by the small grey lizard!
+(12/8.)
+
+The tragedy of the wasps' nest at the approach of the first chills of
+winter is the final fragment of an epic. At first there is a sort of
+uneasiness, "a species of indifference and anxiety which broods over the
+city"; already it has a presentiment of coming misfortune, of an
+approaching catastrophe. Presently a wild excitement ensues; the foster-
+mothers, "frightened, fierce, and restless," as though suddenly attacked by
+an incomprehensible insanity, conceive an aversion for the young; "the
+neuters extirpate the larvae and drag them out of the nest," and the drama
+of destruction draws to a close with "the final catastrophe; the infirm and
+the dying are dismembered, eviscerated, dissected in a heap in the
+catacombs by maggots, woodlice, and centipedes." Finally the moth comes
+upon the scene, its larvae "attacking the dwelling itself; gnawing and
+destroying the joists and rafters, until all is reduced to a few pinches of
+dust and shreds of grey paper." (12/9.)
+
+What picturesque expressions he employs to depict, by means of some
+significant feature, the striking peculiarities of the insect physiognomy!
+
+"The gipsy who night and day for seven months goes to and fro with her
+brats upon her back" is the Lycosa, the Tarantula with the black stomach,
+the great spider of the wastes.
+
+The larva of the great Capricornis, which gnaws the interior of old oak-
+trees, "leaving behind it, in the form of dry-rot, the refuse of its
+digestive processes," is "a scrap of intestine which eats its way as it
+goes."
+
+In "that hideous lout" the Scorpion he shows us a rough epitome of the
+shapeless head, the truncated face of the spider.
+
+The Tachinae, those "brazen diptera" which swarm on the sunny sand on the
+watch for Bembex or Philanthus, in order to establish their offspring at
+its expense, "are bandits clad in fustian, the head wrapped in a red
+handkerchief, awaiting the hour of attack!"
+
+The Languedocian Sphex, sprawling flat upon the vine leaves, grows dizzy
+with the heat and frisks for very pleasure; "with its feet it taps rapidly
+on its resting-place, and thus produces a drumming like that of a shower of
+rain falling thickly on the leaves." Fabre takes a keen delight in the
+production of these pictures, at once so exact and lifelike; but we must
+not therefore suppose that his mind is incapable of the detailed
+descriptions necessitated by the laborious processes of minute anatomy.
+
+Like all sciences, entomology has its uninteresting aspects when we seek to
+study it deeply. Yet with what interest and lucidity has Fabre succeeded in
+expounding the complex morphoses of the obscure and miserable larva of the
+Sitaris, the curious intestine of the Scarabaeus, the secret of the
+spawning of the weevil, and the ingenious mechanisms of the musical
+instruments of the Decticus and the Cicada. With what subtle art he
+explains the song of the cricket, how the five hundred prisms of the
+serrated bow set the four tympana in vibration; and how the song is
+sometimes muffled by a process of muting. (12/10.)
+
+Some of the images suggested to him by the forms of animals are so
+beautiful that certain of his descriptions might well serve to inspire an
+artist, or suggest new motives of decoration in the arts of enamelling,
+gem-engraving, jewellery, etc.
+
+Instead of eternally copying ancient things, or seeking inspiration in
+lifeless texts, why not turn our attention to the numerous and interesting
+motives which are scattered all around us, whose originality consists
+precisely in the fact that they have never yet been employed? Why torture
+the mind to produce more painful elaborations of awkward, frozen, poverty-
+stricken combinations, when Nature herself is at hand, offering the
+inexhaustible casket of her living marvels, full of the profoundest logic
+and as yet unexamined?
+
+If the bee by means of the hexagonal prism has anticipated all the
+geometers in the problem of the economy of space and matter; if the Epeïra
+and the mollusc have invented the logarithmic spiral and its transcendent
+properties; if all creatures "inspired by an aesthetic which nothing
+escapes, achieve the beautiful" (12/11.), surely human art, which can but
+imitate and remember, has only to employ to its profit and transfigure into
+ideal images the natural beauties so profusely furnished by the
+Unconscious.
+
+Modern art, influenced more especially by the subtle Japanese, is already
+treading this path.
+
+What artist could ever engrave on rare metals or model in precious
+substances a more beautiful subject than the wonderful picture of the
+Tarantula offering, at the length of her extended limbs, her white sac of
+eggs to the sun; or the transparent nymph of the Onthophagus taurus, "as
+though carved from a block of crystal, with its wide snout and its enormous
+horns like those of the Aurochs"? (12/12.) What an undiscovered subject he
+might find in the nymph of the Ergatus (12/13.), with its almost
+incorporeal grace, as though made of "translucent ivory, like a communicant
+in her white veils, the arms crossed upon the breast; a living symbol of
+mystic resignation before the accomplishment of destiny"; or in the still
+more mysterious nymph of the Scarabaeus sacer, first of all "a mummy of
+translucent amber, maintained by its linen cerements in a hieratic pose;
+but soon upon this background of topaz, the head, the legs, and the thorax
+change to a sombre red, while the rest of the body remains white, and the
+nymph is slowly transfigured, assuming that majestic costume which combines
+the red of the cardinal's mantle with the whiteness of the sacerdotal alb."
+
+On the other hand, what Sims or Bateman ever imagined weirder caricature
+than the grotesque larva of the Oniticella, with its extravagant dorsal
+hump; or the fantastic and alarming silhouette of the Empusa, with its
+scaly belly raised crozierwise and mounted on four long stilts, its pointed
+face, turned-up moustaches, great prominent eyes, and a "stupendous mitre":
+the most grotesque, the most fantastic freaks that creation can ever have
+evolved? (12/14.)
+
+
+CHAPTER 13. THE EPIC OF ANIMAL LIFE.
+
+Although in his portraits and descriptions Fabre is simple and exact, and
+so full of natural geniality; although he can so handle his words as to
+render them "adequate" to reproduce the moving pictures of the tiny
+creatures he observes, his style touches a higher level, flashes with
+colour, and grows rich with imagery when he seeks to interpret the feelings
+which animate them: their loves, their battles, their cunning schemes, and
+the pursuit of their prey; all that vast drama which everywhere accompanies
+the travail of creation.
+
+It is here in particular that Fabre shows us what horizons, as yet almost
+unexplored, what profound and inexhaustible resources science is able to
+offer poetry.
+
+The breaking of egg or chrysalid is in itself a moving event; for to attain
+to the light is for all these creatures "a prodigious travail."
+
+The hour of spring has sounded. At the call of the field-cricket, the
+herald of the spring, the germs that slumber in nymph or chrysalis have
+broken through their spell.
+
+What haste and ingenuity are required to emerge from the natal darkness, to
+unwrap the swaddling-bands, to break the subterranean shells, to demolish
+the waxen bulkheads, to perforate the soil or to escape from prisons of
+silk!
+
+The woodland bug, whose egg is a masterpiece, invents I know not what
+magical centre-bit, what curious piece of locksmith's work, in order to
+unlock its natal casket and achieve its liberty.
+
+For days the grasshopper "butts its head against the roughness of the soil,
+and wars upon the pebbles; by dint of frantic wriggling it escapes from the
+womb of the earth, bursts its old coat, and is transfigured, opening its
+eyes to the light, and leaping for the first time."
+
+The Bombyx of the pine-tree "decks its brow with points of diamond, spreads
+its wings, and erects its plumes, and shakes out its fleece to fly only in
+the darkness, to wed the same night, and to die on the morrow."
+
+What marvellous inventions, what machinery, what incredible contrivances,
+"in order that a tiny fly can emerge from under ground"!
+
+The Anthrax assumes a panoply of trepans, an assortment of gimlets and
+knives, harpoons and grapnels, in order to perforate its ceiling of cement;
+then the lugubrious black fly appears, all moist as yet with the humours of
+the laboratory of life, steadies itself upon its trembling legs, dries its
+wings, quits its suit of armour, and takes flight."
+
+The blue-fly, buried in the depth of the sand, "cracks its barrel-shaped
+coffin," and splits its mask, in order to disinter itself; the head divides
+into two halves, between which we see emerging and disappearing by turns a
+monstrous tumour, which comes and goes, swells and shrivels, palpitates,
+labours, lunges, and retires, thus compressing and gradually undermining
+the sand, until at last the newborn fly emerges from the depth of the
+catacombs. (13/1.)
+
+Certain young spiders, in order to emancipate themselves, to conquer space,
+and disperse themselves about the world, resort to an ingenious system of
+aviation. They gain the highest point of the thicket, and release a thread,
+which, seized by the wind, carries them away suspended. Each shines like a
+point of light against the foliage of the cypresses. There is a continuous
+stream of tiny passengers, leaping and descending in scattered sheaves
+under the caresses of the sun, like atomic projectiles, like the fountain
+of fire at a pyrotechnic display. What a glorious departure, what an entry
+into the world! Gripping its aeronautic thread, the insect ascends in
+apotheosis! (13/2.)
+
+But if all are called all are not chosen. "How many can move only at the
+greatest peril under the rugged earth, proceeding from shock to shock, in
+the harsh womb of universal life, and, arrested by a grain of sand, succumb
+half-way"!
+
+There are others whom slower metamorphoses condemn to vegetate still longer
+in the subterranean night, before they are permitted to assume their
+festival attire, and share in their turn in the gladness of creation.
+
+Thus the Cicada is forced to labour for long gloomy years in the darkness
+before it can emerge from the soil. At the moment when it issues from the
+earth the larva, soiled with mire, "resembles a sewer-man; its eyes are
+whitish, nebulous, squinting, blind." Then "it clings to some twig, it
+splits down the back, rejects its discarded skin, drier than horny
+parchment, and becomes the Cigale, which is at first of a pale grass-green
+hue." Then,
+
+"Half drunken with her joy, she feasts
+In a hail of fire";
+
+And all day long drinks of the sugared sap of tender bark, and is silent
+only at night, sated with light and heat. The song, which forms part of the
+majestic symphony of the harvest-tide, announces merely its delight in
+existence. Having passed years underground, the cigale has only a month to
+reign, to be happy in a world of light, under the caressing sun. Judge
+whether the wild little cymbals can ever be loud enough "to celebrate such
+felicity, so well earned and so ephemeral"! (13/3.)
+
+All sing for happiness, each after its kind, through the calm of the summer
+days. Their minds are intoxicated; it is their fashion of praying, of
+adoring, of expressing "the joys of life: a full crop and the sun on the
+back." Even the humble grasshopper rubs its flanks to express its joy,
+raises and lowers its shanks till its wing-cases squeak, and is enchanted
+with its own music, which it commences or terminates suddenly "according to
+the alternations of sun and shade." Each insect has its rhythm, strident or
+barely perceptible; the music of the thickets and fallows caressed by the
+sun, rising and falling in waves of joyful life.
+
+The insects make merry; they hold uproarious festival; and they mate
+insatiably; even before forming a mutual acquaintance; in a furious rush of
+living, for "love is the sole joy of the animal," and "to love is to die."
+
+Hardly unwrapped, still dusty from the strenuous labour of deliverance,
+"the female of the Scolia is seized by the male, who does not even give her
+time to wash her eyes." Having slept over a year underground, the Sitares,
+barely rid of their mummy-cases, taste, in the sunlight, a few minutes of
+love, on the very site of their re-birth; then they die. Life surges,
+burns, flares, sparkles, rushes "in a perpetual tide," a brief radiance
+between two nights.
+
+A world of a myriad fairies fills the rustling forest: day and night it
+unfolds a thousand marvellous pictures; about the root of a bramble, in the
+shadow of an old wall, on a slope of loose soil, or in the dense thickets.
+
+"The insect is transfigured for the nuptial ceremony; and each hopes, in
+its ritual, to declare its passion." Fabre had some thought of writing the
+Golden Book of their bridals and their wedding festivals (13/4.); the
+Kamasutra of their feasts and rules of love; and with what art, at once
+frank and reserved, has he here and there handled this wonderful theme! In
+the radiant garden of delight, where no detail of truth is omitted, but
+where nothing shocks us, Fabre reveals himself as he is in his
+conversation; evading the subject where it takes a licentious turn;
+fundamentally chaste and extremely reserved.
+
+At the foot of the rocks the Psyche "appears in the balcony of her boudoir,
+in the rays of the caressing sun; lying on the cloudy softness of an
+incomparable eider-down." She awaits the visit of the spouse, "the gentle
+Bombyx," who, for the ceremony, "has donned his feathery plumes and his
+mantle of black velvet." "If he is late in coming, the female grows
+impatient; then she herself makes the advances, and sets forth in search of
+her mate."
+
+Drawn by the same voluptuous and overwhelming force, the cricket ventures
+to leave his burrow. Adorned "in his fairest attire, black jacket, more
+beauteous than satin, with a stripe of carmine on the thigh," he wanders
+through the wild herbage, "by the discreet glimmer of twilight," until he
+reaches the distant lodging of the beloved. There at last he arrives "upon
+the sanded walk, the court of honour that precedes the entry." But already
+the place is occupied by another aspirant. Then the two rivals fall upon
+one another, biting one another's heads, "until it ends by the retreat of
+the weaker, whom the victor insults by a bravura cry." The happy champion
+bridles, assuming a proud air, as of one who knows himself a handsome
+fellow, before the fair one, who feigns to hide herself behind her tuft of
+aphyllantus, all covered with azure flowers. "With a gesture of a fore-limb
+he passes one of his antennae through his mandibles as though to curl it;
+with his long-spurred, red-striped legs he shuffles with impatience; he
+kicks the empty air; but emotion renders him mute." (13/5.)
+
+In the foliage of the ash-tree the lover of the female Cantharis thrashes
+his companion, who makes herself as small as she can, hiding her head in
+her bosom; he bangs her with his fists, buffets her with his abdomen,
+"subjects her to an erotic storm, a rain of blows"; then, with his arms
+crossed, he remains a moment motionless and trembling; finally, seizing
+both antennae of the desired one, he forces her to raise her head "like a
+cavalier proudly seated on horse and holding the reins in his hands."
+
+The Osmiae "reply by a click of the jaws to the advances of their lovers,
+who recoil, and then, doubtless to make themselves more valiant, they also
+execute a ferocious mandibular grimace. With this byplay of the jaws and
+their menacing gestures of the head in the empty air the lovers have the
+air of intending to eat one another." Thus they preface their bridals by
+displays of gallantry, recalling the ancient betrothal customs of which
+Rabelais speaks; the pretenders were cuffed and derided and threatened with
+a hearty pummelling. (13/6.)
+
+On the arid hillsides, where the doubtful rays of the moon pierce the
+storm-clouds and illumine the sultry atmosphere, the pale scorpions, with
+short-sighted eyes, hideous monsters with misshapen heads, "display their
+strange faces, and two by two, hand in hand, stalk in measured paces amid
+the tufts of lavender. How tell their joys, their ecstasies, that no human
+language can express...!" (13/7.)
+
+However, the glow-worm, to guide the lover, lights its beacon "like a spark
+fallen from the full moon"; but "presently the light grows feebler, and
+fades to a discreet nightlight, while all around the host of nocturnal
+creatures, delayed in their affairs, murmur the general epithalamium."
+(13/8.)
+
+But their happy time is soon over; tragedy is about to follow idyll.
+
+One must live, and "the intestine rules the world."
+
+All creatures that fill the world are incessantly conflicting, and one
+lives only at the cost of another.
+
+On the other hand, in order that the coming generations may see the light,
+the present generations must think of the preservation of the young.
+"Perish all the rest provided the brood flourish!" And in the depth of
+burrows the future larvae who live only for their stomachs, "little ogres,
+greedy of living flesh," must have their prey.
+
+To hunger and maternity let us also add love, which "rules the world by
+conflict."
+
+Such are the components of the "struggle for existence," such as Fabre has
+described it, but with no other motive than to describe what he has
+observed and seen. Such are the ordinary themes of the grandiose battles
+which he has scattered through his narratives, and never did circus or
+arena offer more thrilling spectacles; no jungle ever hid more moving
+combats in its thickets."
+
+"Each has its ruses of war, its methods of attack, its methods of killing."
+
+What tactics--"studied, scientific, worthy of the athletes of the ancient
+palaestra"--are those which the Sphex employs to paralyse the Cricket and
+the Cerceris to capture the Cleona, to secure them in a suitable place, so
+as to operate on them more surely and at leisure!
+
+Beside these master paralysers, so expert in the art of dealing slow death,
+there are those which, with a precision no less scholarly, kill and wither
+their victims at a single stroke, and without leaving a trace: "true
+practitioners in crime."
+
+On the rock-rose bushes, with their great pink flowers, "the pretty
+Thomisus, the little crab-spider, clad in satin," watches for the domestic
+bee, and suddenly kills it, seizing the back of the head, while the
+Philanthus, also seizing it by the head, plunges its sting under the chin,
+neither too high nor too low, but "exactly in the narrow joint of the
+neck," for both insects know that in this limited spot, in which is
+concentrated a small nervous mass, something like a brain, is "the weak
+point, most vulnerable of all," the fault in the cuirass, the vital centre.
+Others, like the Araneidae, intoxicate their prey, and their subtle bite,
+"which resembles a kiss," in whatever part of the body it is applied,
+"produces almost immediately a gradual swoon."
+
+Thus the great hairy Bourdon, in the course of its peregrinations across
+the wastes of thyme, sometimes foolishly strays into the lair of the
+Tarantula, whose eyes glimmer like jewels at the back of his den. Hardly
+has the insect disappeared underground than a sort of shrill rattling is
+heard, a "true death-song," immediately followed by the completest silence.
+"Only a moment, and the unfortunate creature is absolutely dead, proboscis
+outstretched and limbs relaxed. The bite of the rattlesnake would not
+produce a more sudden paralysis."
+
+The terrible spider "crouching on the battlements of his castle, his heavy
+belly in the sun, attentive to the slightest rustling, leaps upon whatever
+passes, fly or Libellula, and with a single stroke strangles his victim,
+and drains its body, drinking the warm blood."
+
+"To dislodge him from his keep needs all the cunning strategy of the
+Pompilus; a terrible duel, a hand-to-hand combat, stupendous, truly epic,
+in which the subtle address and the ingenious audacity of the winged insect
+eventually triumph over the dreadful spider and his poisoned fangs."
+(13/9.)
+
+On the pink heather "the timid spider of the thickets suspends by ethereal
+cables the branching whorl of his snare, which the tears of the night have
+turned into chaplets of jewels...The magical jewellery sparkles in the sun,
+attracting mosquitoes and butterflies; but whosoever approaches too closely
+perishes, a victim of curiosity." Above the funnel is the trap, "a chaos of
+springs, a forest of cordage; like the rigging of a ship dismembered by the
+tempest. The desperate creature struggles in the shrouds of the rigging,
+then falls into the gloomy slaughter-house where the spider lurks ready to
+bleed his prey."
+
+Death is everywhere.
+
+Each crevice of bark, each shadow of a leaf, conceals a hunter armed with a
+deadly weapon, all his senses on the alert. Everywhere are teeth, fangs,
+talons, stings, pincers, and scythes.
+
+Leaping in the long grasses, the Decticus with the ivory face "crunches the
+heads of grasshoppers in his mandibles."
+
+A ferocious creature, the grub of the Hemerobius, disembowels plant-lice,
+making of their skins a battle-dress, covering its back with the
+eviscerated victims, "as the Red Indian ties about his loins the tresses of
+his scalped enemies."
+
+Caterpillars are surrounded by the implacable voracity of the Carabidae:
+
+"The furry skins are gaping with wounds; their contents escape in knots of
+entrails, bright green with their aliment, the needles of the pine-tree;
+the caterpillars writhe, struggling with loop-like movements, gripping the
+sand with their feet, dribbling and gnashing their mandibles. Those as yet
+unwounded are digging desperately in the attempt to escape underground. Not
+one succeeds. They are scarcely half buried before some beetle runs to them
+and destroys them by an eviscerating wound."
+
+At the centre of its net, which seems "woven of moonbeams," in the midst of
+its snare, a glutinous trap of infernal ingenuity, or hidden at a distance
+in its cabin of green leaves, the Epeïra fasciata waits and watches for its
+prey. Let the terrible hornet, or the Libellula auripennis, flying from
+stem to stem, fall into the limed snare; the insect struggles, endeavours
+to unwind itself; the net trembles violently as though it would be torn
+from its cables. Immediately the spider darts forward, running boldly to
+the intruder. With rapid gestures the two hinder limbs weave a winding-
+sheet of silk as they rotate the victim in order to enshroud it...The
+ancient Retiarius, condemned to meet a powerful beast of prey, appeared in
+the arena with a net of cordage lying upon his left shoulder; the animal
+sprang upon him; the man, with a sudden throw, caught it in the meshes; a
+stroke of the trident despatched it. Similarly the Epeïra throws its web,
+and when there is no longer any movement under the white shroud the spider
+draws closer; its venomous fangs perform the office of the trident.
+(13/10.)
+
+The Praying Mantis, that demoniac creature which alone among the insects
+turns its head to gaze, "whose pious airs conceal the most atrocious
+habits," remains on the watch, motionless, for hours at a time. Let a great
+grasshopper chance to come by: the Mantis follows it with its glance,
+glides between the leaves, and suddenly rises up before it; "and then
+assumes its spectral pose, which terrifies and fascinates the prey; the
+wing-covers open, the wings spring to their full width, forming a vast
+pyramid which dominates the back; a sort of swishing sound is heard, like
+the hiss of a startled adder; the murderous fore-limbs open to their full
+extent, forming a cross with the body, and exhibiting the axillae
+ornamented with eyes vaguely resembling those of the peacock's tail, part
+of the panoply of war, concealed upon ordinary occasions. These are only
+exhibited when the creature makes itself terrible and superb for battle.
+Then the two grappling-hooks are thrown; the fangs strike, the double
+scythes close together and hold the victim as in a vice." (13/11.)
+
+There is no peace; night falls and the horrible conflict continues in the
+darkness. Atrocious struggles, merciless duels, fill the summer nights. On
+the stems of the long grasses, beside the furrows, the glow-worm
+"anaethetizes the snail," instilling into it its venom, which stupefies and
+produces sleep, in order to immobilize its prey before devouring it.
+
+Having chorused their joy all the day long in the sunshine, in the evening
+the Cicadae fall asleep among the olives and the lofty plane-trees. But
+suddenly there is a sound as of a cry of anguish, short and strident; it is
+the despairing lamentation of the cicada, surprised in repose by the green
+grasshopper, that ardent hunter of the night, which leaps upon the cicada,
+seizes it by the flank, and devours the contents of the stomach. After the
+orgy of music comes night and assassination.
+
+Such is the gloomy epic which goes forward among the flowers, amidst the
+foliage, under the shadowy boughs, and on the dusty fallows. Such are the
+sights that nature offers amid the profound peace of the fields, behind the
+flowering of the sudden spring-tide and the splendours of the summer. These
+murders, these assassinations are committed in a mute and silent world, but
+"the ear of the mind" seems to hear
+
+"A tiger's rage and cries as of a lion
+Roaring remotely through this pigmy world."
+
+Was it to these thrilling revelations that Victor Hugo intended to apply
+these so wonderfully appropriate lines? Was it he who bestowed upon Fabre,
+according to a poetic tradition, the name of "the Homer of the insects,"
+which fits him so marvellously well?
+
+It is possible, although Fabre himself can cite no evidence to support
+these suggestions; but let us respect the legend, simply because it is
+charming, and because it adds an exact and picturesque touch to the
+portrait of Fabre.
+
+In this drama of a myriad scenes, in which the little actors in their
+rustic stage play each in his turn their parts at the mercy of occasion and
+the hazard of encounter, the humblest creatures are personages of
+importance.
+
+Like the human comedy, this also has its characters privileged by birth,
+clothed in purple, dazzling with embroidery, "adorned with lofty plumes,"
+who strut pretentiously; "its idle rich," covered with robes of gold of
+rustling splendour, who display their diamonds, their topazes and their
+sapphires; who gleam with fire and shine like mirrors, magnificent of mien;
+but their brains are "dense, heavy, inept, without imagination, without
+ingenuity, deprived of all common sense, knowing no other anxiety than to
+drink in the sunlight at the heart of a rose or to sleep off their draughts
+in the shadow of a leaf.
+
+Those who labour, on the contrary, do not attract the eye, and the most
+obscure are often the most interesting. Necessitous poverty has educated
+and formed them, has excited in them "feats of invention," unsuspected
+talents, original industries; a thousand curious and unexpected callings,
+and no subject of poetry equals in interest the detailed history of one of
+these tiny creatures, by which we pass without observing them, amid the
+stones, the brambles, and the dead leaves. It is these above all that add
+an original and epic note to the vast symphony of the world.
+
+But death also has its poetry. Its shadowy domains hold lessons no less
+magnificent, and the most putrid carrion is to Fabre a "tabernacle" in
+which a divine comedy is enacted.
+
+The ant, that "ardent filibuster, comes first, and commences to dissect it
+piecemeal."
+
+The Necrophori "exhaling the odour of musk, and bearing red pompons at the
+end of their antennae," are "transcendent alchemists."
+
+The Sarcophagi, or grey flesh flies, "with red bloodshot eyes, and the
+stony gaze of a knacker"; the Saprinidae, "with bodies of polished ebony
+like pearls of jet"; the Silpha aplata, with large and sombre wing-cases in
+mourning; the shiny slow-trotting Horn-beetle; the Dermestes, "powdered
+with snow beneath the stomach"; the slender Staphylinus; the whole fauna of
+the corpse, the whole horde of artisans of death, "intoxicating themselves
+with purulence, probing, excavating, mangling, dissecting, transmuting, and
+stamping out infection."
+
+Fabre gives a curious exposition of "that strange art" by which the grub of
+the grey bot-fly, the vulgar maggot, by means of a subtle pepsine,
+disintegrates and liquefies solid matter; and it is because this singular
+solvent has no effect upon the epidermis that the fly, in its wisdom,
+chooses by preference the mucous membranes, the corner of the eye, the
+entrance of the nostrils, the borders of the lips, the live flesh of
+wounds, there to deposit its eggs.
+
+With what penetration this original mind has analysed "the operation of the
+crucible in which all things are fused that they may recommence" and has
+expounded the marvellous lesson which is revealed by decomposition and
+putridity!
+
+
+CHAPTER 14. PARALLEL LIVES.
+
+We have now seen what entomology becomes in the hands of the admirable
+Fabre. The vast poem of creation has never had a more familiar and luminous
+interpreter, and you will nowhere find other work like his.
+
+How far he outstrips Buffon and his descriptions of animals--so general, so
+vague, so impersonal--his records unreliable and his entire erudition of a
+second-hand quality!
+
+It is with Réaumur that we are first of all tempted to compare him; and
+some have chosen to see in him only one who has continued Réaumur's work.
+In reality he has eagerly read Réaumur, although at heart he does not
+really enjoy his writings; he has drunk from this fruitful source, but he
+owes him no part of his own rich harvest.
+
+But there are many affinities between them; they have many traits in
+common, despite the points of difference between them.
+
+The illustrious son of Rochelle was born, like Fabre, with a love of all
+natural things, and before attacking the myriad problems of physics and
+natural history, wherein he was to shine by so many curious discoveries, he
+also had prepared himself by a profound study of mathematics.
+
+Luckier than Fabre, however, Réaumur enjoyed not only the advantages of
+birth, but all the material conditions necessary to his ardent intellectual
+activity. Fortune overwhelmed her favourite with gifts, and played no small
+part in his glory by enabling him, from an early age, to profit by his
+leisure and to give a free rein to his ruling passions. He was no less
+modest than the sage of Sérignan; self-effacing before others, says one of
+his biographers, so that they were never made to feel his superiority.
+(14/1.)
+
+In the midst of the beautiful and spacious gardens at the end of the
+Faubourg Saint-Antoine, where he finally made his home, he also contrived
+to create for himself a Harmas after his own heart.
+
+It was there that in the as yet virgin domain of entomology he unravelled
+the riddle of the marvellous republic of the bees, and was able to expound
+and interpret a large number of those tiny lives which every one had
+hitherto despised, and which indeed they continued to despise until the
+days of Fabre, or at least regarded as absolutely unimportant. He was the
+first to venture to suspect their connection with much "that most nearly
+concerns us," or to point out "all the singular conclusions" which may be
+drawn therefrom. (14/2.)
+
+How many details he has enshrined in his interesting "Memoirs," and how
+many facts we may glean from this great master! He, like Fabre, had the
+gift of charming a great number of his contemporaries. Tremblay, Bonnet,
+and de Geer owed their vocations to Réaumur, not to speak of Huber, whose
+genius he inspired.
+
+A physicist before all, and accustomed to delicate and meticulous though
+comparatively simple tasks, he had admirably foreseen the extraordinary
+complication of these inquiries; so much so that, with the modesty of the
+true scientist that he was, he regarded his own studies, even the most
+substantial, as mere indications, intended to point the way to those that
+followed him.
+
+As methodical, in short, as the author of the "Souvenirs," the scrupulous
+Réaumur wrote nothing that he himself had not proved or verified with the
+greatest care; and we may be sure that all that he records of his personal
+and immediate observations he has really seen with his own eyes.
+
+In the wilderness of error he had, like Fabre, an infallible compass in his
+extraordinary common sense; and, equally skilled in extracting from the
+false the little particle of truth which it often contains, he was no less
+fond of listening at the gate of legends, of tracing the source of
+traditions; rightly considering that before deriding them as old-wives'
+tales we should first probe in all directions into their origin and
+foundation. (14/3.)
+
+He was also tempted to experiment, and he well knew that in such problems
+as those he attacked observation alone is often powerless to reveal
+anything. It is enough to recall here one of the most promising and
+unexpected of the discoveries which resulted from his experiments. Réaumur
+was the first to conceive the ingenious idea of retarding the hatching of
+insects' eggs by exposing them to cold, thus anticipating the application
+of cold to animal life and the discoveries of Charles Tellier, whose more
+illustrious forerunner he was; at the same time he discovered the secret of
+prolonging, in a similar fashion, the larval existence of chrysalids during
+a space of time infinitely superior to that of their normal cycle; and what
+is more, he succeeded in making them live a lethargic life for years and
+even for a long term of years, thus repeating at will the miracle of the
+Seven Sleepers. (14/4.)
+
+Too much occupied, however, with the smaller aspect of things, he had not
+the art of forcing Nature to speak, and in the province of psychical
+aptitudes he was barely able to rise above the facts.
+
+As he was powerless to enter into real communion with the tiny creatures
+which he observed, although his observations were conducted with religious
+admiration; as he saw always only the outside of things, like a physicist
+rather than a poet or psychologist, he contented himself with noting the
+functioning of their organs, their methods of work, their properties, and
+the changes which they undergo; he did not interpret their actions. The
+mystery of the life which quivers within and around them eludes him. This
+is why his books are such dry reading. He is like a bright garden full of
+rare plants; but it is a monotonous garden, without life or art, without
+distant vistas or wide perspectives. His works are somewhat diffuse and
+full of repetitions; entire monographs, almost whole volumes, are devoted
+to describing the emerging of a butterfly; but they form part of the
+library of the curious lover of nature; they are consulted with interest,
+and will always be referred to, but it cannot be said that they are read.
+
+After Réaumur, according to the dictum of the great Latreille, entomology
+was confined to a wearisome and interminable nomenclature, and if we except
+the Hubers, two unparalleled observers, although limited and circumscribed,
+the only writer who filled the interregnum between Réaumur and Fabre was
+Léon Dufour.
+
+In the quiet little town whither he went to succeed his father, this
+military surgeon, turned country doctor, lived a busy and useful life.
+
+While occupied with his humble patients, whom he preferred to regard merely
+as an interesting clinic, and while keeping the daily record of his medical
+observations, he felt irresistibly drawn "to ferret in all the holes and
+corners of the soil, to turn over every stone, large or small; to shrink
+from no fatigue, no difficulty; to scale the highest peaks, the steepest
+cliffs, to brave a thousand dangers, in order to discover an insect or a
+plant. (14/5.)
+
+A disciple of Latreille, he shone above all as an impassioned descriptive
+writer.
+
+No one was more skilled in determining a species, in dissecting the head of
+a fly or the entrails of a grub, and no spectacle in the world was for him
+so fascinating as the triple life of the insect; those magical
+metamorphoses, which he justly considered as one of the most astonishing
+phenomena in creation. (14/6.)
+
+He saw further than Réaumur, and burned with the same fire as Fabre, for he
+also had the makings of a great poet. His curiosity had assembled enormous
+collections, but he considered, as Fabre considered, that collecting is
+"only the barren contemplation of a vast ossuary which speaks only to the
+eyes, and not to the mind or imagination," and that the true history of
+insects should be that of their habits, their industries, their battles,
+their loves, and their private and social life; that one must "search
+everywhere, on the ground, under the soil, in the waters, in the air, under
+the bark of trees, in the depth of the woods, in the sands of the desert,
+and even on and in the bodies of animals."
+
+Was not this in reality the ambitious programme which Fabre was later to
+propose to himself when he entered into his Harmas and founded his living
+laboratory of entomology; he also having set himself as his exclusive
+object the study of "the insects, the habits of life, the labours, the
+struggles and the propagation of this little world, which agriculture and
+philosophy should closely consider"? (14/7.)
+
+Dufour also had admirably grasped the place of the insect in the general
+harmony of the universe, and he clearly perceived that parasitism, that
+imbrication of mutually usurping lives, is "a law of equilibration, whose
+object is to set a limit to the excessive multiplication of individuals of
+the same type," that the parasites are predestined to an imprescriptible
+mission, and that this mysterious law "defies all explanation."
+
+On the other hand, he did not become very intimate with these tiny peoples;
+his attention was dispersed over too many points; perhaps he was
+fundamentally incapable of concentrating himself for a long period upon a
+circumscribed object; perhaps he lacked that first condition of genius,
+patience, so essential to such researches: although he enriched science by
+an infinite multitude of precious facts and has recorded a quantity of
+details concerning the habits of insects, he did not succeed in
+representing any one of these innumerable little minds. He had an intense
+feeling for nature, but he was not able to interpret it, and his immense
+volume of work, scattered through nearly three hundred monographs, remains
+ineffective.
+
+Let us compare with his work the vast epic of the "Souvenirs." We become
+familiar with the whole life of the least insect, and all its unending
+related circumstances; we obtain sudden glimpses of insight into our own
+organization, with its abysses and its lacunae, and also into those rich
+provinces or faculties which we are only beginning to suspect in the depths
+of our unconscious activity.
+
+In the evening twilight, after the vast andante of the cicadae is hushed,
+at the hour when the shining glow-worms "light their blue fires," and the
+"pale Italian cricket, delirious with its nocturnal madness, chirrups among
+the rosemary thickets," while in the distance sounds the melodious tinkle
+of the bell-ringer frogs, replying from one hiding-place to another, the
+old master shows us that profound and mysterious magic with which matter is
+endowed by the faintest glimmer of life.
+
+He shows us the intimate connection of things, the universal harmony which
+so intimately allies all creatures; and he shows us also that everywhere
+and all around us, in the smallest object, poetry exists like a hidden
+flame, if only we know how to seek it.
+
+And in revealing so many marvellous energies in even the lowest creatures,
+he helps us to divine the infinity of phenomena still unguessed-at, which
+the subtlety of the unknowable force which thrills through the whole
+universe hides from us under the most trivial appearances.
+
+For he has not told everything; this incommensurable region, which had
+hitherto remained unworked, is far from being exhausted.
+
+How many unknown and hidden things are still left to be gleaned! There will
+be a harvest for all. Remember that "even the humblest species either has
+no history, or the little that has been written concerning it calls for
+serious revision" (14/8.); that a single bush, such as the bramble,
+suffices to rear more than fifty species of insects, and that each species,
+according to the just observation of Réaumur, "has its habits, its tricks
+of cunning, its customs, its industries, its art, its architecture, its
+different instincts, and its individual genius."
+
+What a stupendous alphabet to decipher, of which we have as yet only
+commenced to read the first few letters! When we are able to read it almost
+entirely, when observers are more numerous and have concerted their
+efforts, mutually illuminating, completing and correcting one another,
+then, and then only, we shall succeed, if not in resolving some of those
+high problems which have never ceased to interest mankind, at least in
+seizing some reflected knowledge of ourselves, and in seeing a little
+farther into the kingdom of the mind.
+
+
+CHAPTER 15. THE EVENINGS AT SÉRIGNAN.
+
+But it will doubtless be long before a new Fabre will resume, with the same
+heroic ardour, the life of solitary labour, varied only by a few austere
+recreations.
+
+Rising at six o'clock, he would first of all pace the tiles of his kitchen,
+breakfast in hand; so imperious in him was the need of action, if his mind
+was to work successfully, that even at this moment of morning meditation
+his body must already be in movement. Then, after many turns among the
+bushes of the enclosure, all irised with drops of dew which were already
+evaporating, he went straight to his cell: that is, to the silence of his
+laboratory.
+
+There, in unsociable silence, invisible to all, he worked hard and steadily
+until noon; pursuing an observation or carrying out some experiment, or
+recording what he saw or what he had seen the day before, or re-drafting
+his records in their final form.
+
+How many who have come hither to knock upon the door in these morning
+hours, or to ring at the little gate, silent as the tomb, which gives upon
+the private path frequented only by foot-passengers on their way to the
+fields, have undertaken a fruitless journey! But without such discipline
+would it have been possible to accomplish such a task as his?
+
+At last he would leave his workroom; jaded, exhausted by the excessive
+intensity of his work, "face pale and features drawn." (15/1.)
+
+Now he is "at leisure: the half-day is over" (15/2.); and he can satisfy
+his immense need not of repose, but of relaxation and distraction in less
+severe occupations; for he is never at any time nor anywhere inactive;
+incessantly making notes, with little stumps of pencil which he carries
+about in his pockets, and on the first scrap of paper that comes to hand,
+of all that passes through his mind. Those eternal afternoons, which
+usually, in the depth of the French provinces, prove so dull and wearisome,
+seem short enough to him. Now he will halt before his plants, now stoop to
+the ground, the better to observe a passing insect; always in search of
+some fresh subject of study; or now bending over his microscope. (15/3.)
+Then he undertakes, for his later-born children at Sérignan, the duties
+which he formerly performed for the elder family at Orange: he teaches them
+himself; he has much to do with them, for their sake and for his own as
+well, for he is jealous of possessing them, and he regrets parting with
+them. They too have their tasks arranged in advance.
+
+They are his assistants, his appointed collaborators, who keep and relieve
+guard, undertaking, in his absence, some observation already in hand, so
+that no detail may be lost, no incident of the story that unrolls itself
+sometimes with exasperating slowness beneath the bell-covers of the
+laboratory or on some bush in the garden. He inspires the whole household
+with the fire of his own genius, and all those about him are almost as
+interested as he.
+
+At home, in the house, always wearing his eternal felt hat, and absorbed in
+meditation, he speaks little, holding that every word should have its
+object, and only employing a term when he has tested its weight and
+meaning. Silence at mealtimes again is a rule that no one of his household
+would infringe. But he unbends his brow when he receives a friend at his
+hospitable table, where but lately his smiling wife would sit, full of
+little attentions for him. (15/4.)
+
+Frugal in all respects, he barely touches the dishes before him; avoiding
+all meats, and saving himself wholly for the fruits; for is not man
+naturally frugivorous, by his teeth, his stomach, and his bowels? Certain
+dishes repel him, for reasons of sentiment rather than through any real
+disgust; such as paté de foie gras, which reminds him too forcibly of the
+so cruelly tortured goose; such cruelty is too high a price to pay for a
+mere greasy mouthful. (15/5.) On the other hand, he drinks wine with
+pleasure, the harsh, rough "wine of the country" of the plains of Sérignan.
+He is also well able to appreciate good things and appetizing cookery; no
+one ever had a finer palate; but he is happiest in seeing others appreciate
+the pleasures of the table. Witness that breakfast worthy of Gargantua,
+which he himself organized in honour of his guests, whom he had invited to
+an excursion over the Ventoux Alp; where he seems expressly to have
+commanded "that all should come in shoals." What a tinkling of bottles,
+what piles of bread! There are green olives "flowing with brine," black
+olives "seasoned with oil," sausages of Arles "with rosy flesh, marbled
+with cubes of fat and whole peppercorns," legs of mutton stuffed with
+garlic "to dull the keen edge of hunger"; chickens "to amuse the molars";
+melons of Cavaillon too, with white pulp, not forgetting those with orange
+pulp, and to crown the feast those little cheeses, so delightfully
+flavoured, peculiar to Mont Ventoux, "spiced with mountain herbs," which
+melt in the mouth. (15/6.)
+
+But his greatest pleasure is his pipe; a briar, which in absence of mind he
+is always allowing to go out, and always relighting.
+
+Respectful of all traditions, he has kept up the observance of old customs;
+no Christmas Eve has ever been passed under the roof of his Harmas without
+the consecrated meats upon the table; the heart of celery, the nougat of
+almonds, the dish of snails, and the savoury-smelling turkey. Then, stuck
+into the Christmas bread (15/7.), the sprigs of holly, the verbouisset, the
+sacred bush whose little starry flowers and coral berries, growing amid
+evergreen leaves, affirm the eternal rebirth of indestructible nature.
+
+At Sérignan Fabre is little known and little appreciated. To tell the
+truth, folk regard him as eccentric; they have often surprised him in the
+country lying on his stomach in the middle of a field, or kneeling on the
+ground, a magnifying glass in hand, observing a fly or some one of those
+insignificant creatures in which no sane person would deign to be
+interested.
+
+How should they know him, since he never goes into the village? When he did
+once venture thither to visit his friend Charrasse, the schoolmaster, his
+appearance was an event of which every one had something to say, so greatly
+did it astonish the inhabitants. (15/8.)
+
+Yet he never hesitates to place his knowledge at the service of all, and
+welcomes with courtesy the rare pilgrims in whom a genuine regard is
+visible, although he is always careful never to make them feel his own
+superiority; but he very quickly dismisses, sometimes a trifle hastily,
+those who are merely indiscreet or importunate; pedantic and ignorant
+persons he judges instantaneously with his piercing eyes; with such people
+he cannot emerge from his slightly gloomy reserve; he shuts himself up like
+the snail, which, annoyed by some displeasing object, retires into its
+shell, and remains silent in their presence.
+
+Professors come to consult him: asking his advice as to their programmes of
+instruction, or begging him to resolve some difficult problem or decide
+some especially vexed question; and his explanations are so simple, so
+clear, so logical that they are astonished at their own lack of
+comprehension and their embarrassment. (15/9.)
+
+But there are few who venture within the walls of that enclosure, which
+seems to shut out all the temptations of the outer world; the only intimate
+visitors to the Harmas are the village schoolmaster--first Laurent, then
+Louis Charrasse (15/10.), and later Jullian--and a blind man, Marius.
+
+This latter lost his sight at the age of twenty. Then, to earn a living, he
+began to make and repair chairs, and in his misfortune, although blind and
+extremely poor, he kept a calm and contented mind.
+
+Fabre had discovered the sage and the blind man on his arrival at Sérignan,
+and also Favier (15/11.), "that other native, whose jovial spirit was so
+prompt to respond, and who helped to dig up the Harmas; to set up the
+planks and tiles of the little kitchen-garden; a rude task, since this
+scrap of uncultivated ground was then but a terrible desert of pebbles." To
+Favier fell the care of the flowers, for the new owner was a great lover of
+flowers. Potted plants, sometimes of rare species, were already, as to-day,
+crowded in rows upon the terrace before the house, where all the summer
+they formed a sort of vestibule in the open air, on either side of the
+entrance; and these Fabre never ceased to watch over with constant and
+meticulous care. Both spoke the same language, and the words they exchanged
+were born of a like philosophy; for Favier also loved nature in his own
+way, and at heart was an artist; and when, after the day's work, sitting
+"on the high stone of the kitchen hearth, where round logs of green oak
+were blazing," he would evoke, in his picturesque and figurative language,
+the memories of an old campaigner, he charmed all the household and the
+evening seemed to pass with strange rapidity.
+
+When this precious servant and boon companion had disappeared, after two
+years of digging, sowing, weeding, and hoeing, all was ready; the frame was
+completed and the work could be commenced. It was then that Marius became
+the master's appointed collaborator, and it is he who now constructs his
+apparatus, his experimental cages; stuffs his birds, helps to ransack the
+soil, and shades him with an umbrella while he watches under the burning
+sun. Marius cannot see, but so intimate is his communion with his master,
+so keen his enthusiasm for all that Fabre does, that he follows in his
+mind's eye, and as though he could actually see them, all the doings at
+which he assists, and whose inward reflection lights up his wondering
+countenance.
+
+Marius was not only rich in feeling and the gift of inner vision; he had
+also a marvellously correct ear. He was a member of the "Fanfare" of
+Sérignan, in which he played the big drum, and there was no one like him
+for keeping perfect time and for bringing out the clash of the cymbals.
+
+Charrasse was no less fervent a disciple; he worshipped science and all
+beautiful things; and he could even conceive a noble passion for his
+exhausting trade of school-teaching.
+
+Like Marius, he ate "a bitter bread"; and Fabre would get on with them all
+the better in that they, like himself, had lived a difficult life. "Man is
+like the medlar," he liked to tell them; "he is worth nothing until he has
+ripened a long time in the attic, on the straw."
+
+"L'homme est comme la nèfle, il n'est rien qui vaille
+S'il n'a mûri longtemps, au grenier, sur la paille."
+
+These humble companions afforded him the simple conversation which he likes
+so well; so natural, and so full of sympathy and common sense. They
+customarily spent Thursday and Sunday afternoons at the Harmas; but these
+beloved disciples might call at any hour; the master always welcomed them,
+even in the morning, even when he was entirely absorbed in his work and
+could not bear any one about him. They were his circle, his academy; he
+would read them the last chapter written in the morning; he shared his
+latest discoveries with them; he did not fear to ask advice of their
+"fertile ignorance." (15/12.)
+
+Charrasse was a "Félibre," versed in all the secrets of the Provençal
+idiom, of which he knew all the popular terms, the typical expressions and
+turns of speech; and Fabre loved to consult him, to read some charming
+verses which he had just discovered, or to recite some delightful rustic
+poem with which he had just been inspired; for in such occupations he found
+one of his favourite relaxations, giving free vent to his fancy, a loose
+rein to the poet that dwells within him. These poems the piety of his
+brother has preserved in the collection entitled "Oubreto." It is at such a
+moment that one should see his black eyes, full of fire; his power of
+mimicry and expression, his impassioned features, lit up by inspiration,
+truly idealized, almost transfigured, are at such times a thing to be
+remembered.
+
+Sometimes, again, in the shadow of the planes, on summer afternoons, when
+the cigales were falling silent; or in the winter, before the blazing
+fireplace, in that dining-room on the ground floor in which he welcomed his
+visitors; when out of doors the mistral was roaring and raging, or the rain
+clattering on the panes, the little circle was enlarged by certain new-
+comers, his nephews, nieces, a few intimates, of whom, a little later, I
+myself was often one. At such times his humour and imagination were given
+full play, and it was truly a rare pleasure to sit there, sipping a glass
+of mulled wine, during those delightful and earnest hours; to taste the
+charm of his smiling philosophy, his picturesque conversation, full of
+exact ideas, all the more profound in that they were founded on experience
+and pointed or adorned by proverbs, adages, and anecdotes. Thanks to the
+daily reading of the "Temps," which one of his friends regularly sends him,
+Fabre is in touch with all the ideas of the day, and expresses his judgment
+of them; for example, he does not conceal his scepticism with regard to
+certain modern inventions, such as the aeroplane, whose novelty rather
+disturbs his mind, and whose practical bearing seems to him to be on the
+whole somewhat limited.
+
+Thus even the most recent incidents find their way into the solitude of the
+Harmas and help to sustain the conversation.
+
+"The first time we resume our Sérignan evenings," he wrote to his nephew on
+the morrow of one of these intimate gatherings, "we will have a little chat
+about your Justinian, whom the recent drama of "Théodora" has just made the
+fashion. Do you know the history of that terrible hussy and her stupid
+husband? Perhaps not entirely; it is a treat I am keeping for you."
+(15/13.)
+
+The only subject which is hardly ever mentioned during these evenings at
+Sérignan is politics, although Fabre, strange as it may seem, was one year
+appointed to sit on the municipal council.
+
+The son of peasants, who has emerged from the people yet has always
+remained a peasant, has too keen a sense of injustice not to be a democrat;
+and how many young men has he not taught to emancipate themselves by
+knowledge? But above all he is proud of being a Frenchman; his mind, so
+lucid, so logical, which has never gone abroad in search of its own
+inspirations, and has never been influenced by any but those old French
+masters, François Dufour and Réaumur, and the old French classics, has
+always felt an instinctive repugnance, which it has never been able to
+overcome, for all those ideas which some are surreptitiously seeking to put
+forward in our midst in favour of some foreign trade-mark.
+
+Although his visit to the court of Napoleon III left him with a rather
+sympathetic idea of the Emperor, whose gentle, dreamy appearance he still
+likes to recall, he detested the Empire and the "brigand's trick" which
+established it.
+
+On the day of the proclamation of the Republic he was seen in the streets
+of Avignon in company with some of his pupils. He was agreeably surprised
+at the turn events had taken, and delighted by the unforeseen result of the
+war.
+
+A spirit as proud and independent as his was naturally the enemy of any
+species of servitude. State socialism of the equalitarian and communistic
+kind was to him no less horrifying. Was not Nature at hand, always to
+remind him of her eternal lessons?
+
+"Equality, a magnificent political label, but scarcely more! Where is it,
+this equality? In our societies shall we find even two persons exactly
+equal in vigour, health, intelligence, capacity for work, foresight, and so
+many other gifts which are the great factors of prosperity?...A single note
+does not make a harmony: we must have dissimilar notes; discords even,
+which, by their harshness, give value to the concords; human societies are
+harmonious only thus, by the concourse of dissimilarities." (15/14.)
+
+And what a puerile Utopia, what a disappointing illusion is that of
+communism! Let us see under what conditions, at the price of what
+sacrifices, nature here and there realizes it.
+
+Among the bees "twenty thousand renounce maternity and devote themselves to
+celibacy to raise the prodigious family of a single mother."
+
+Among the ants, the wasps, the termites "thousands and thousands remain
+incomplete and become humble auxiliaries of a few who are sexually gifted."
+
+Would you by chance reduce man to the life of the Processional
+caterpillars, content to nibble the pine-needles among which they live, and
+which, satisfied to march continually along the same tracks, find within
+reach an abundant, easy, and idle subsistence? All have the same size, the
+same strength, the same aptitudes. No initiative. "What one does the others
+do, with equal zeal, neither better nor worse." On the other hand, there is
+"no sex, no love." And what would be a society in which there was no work
+done for pleasure and from which love and the family were banished? What
+would be the effect upon its progress, its welfare, its happiness? Would
+not all that make the charm of life disappear for good? However imperfect
+our present society may be, however mysterious its destinies, it is not in
+socialism that Fabre foresees the perfection of future humanity, for to him
+the true humanity does not as yet exist; it is making its way, it is slowly
+progressing, and in this evolution he wishes with all his heart to believe.
+Modern humanity is as yet only a shapeless grimacing caricature, and its
+life is like a play written by madmen and played by drunken actors;
+according to those profound words of the great poet, with which his mind is
+in some sort imbued; which he often repeats, and which he has transcribed
+at the head of one of his last records as an epigraph and a constant
+reminder.
+
+And you who groan over the distressing problem of depopulation, lend an ear
+to the lesson of the Copris, "which trebles its customary batch of
+offspring in times of abundance, and in times of dearth imitates the
+artisan of the city who has only just enough to live on, or the bourgeois,
+whose numerous wants are more and more costly to satisfy, limiting the
+number of its offspring lest they should go in want, often reducing the
+number of its children to a single one." (15/15.)
+
+Instead of running after so many false appearances and false pleasures,
+learn to return to simpler tastes, to more rustic manners; free yourselves
+from a mass of factitious needs; steep yourself anew in the antique
+sobriety, whose desires were sager; return to the fields, the source of
+abundance, and the earth, the eternal foster-mother!
+
+And in this appeal to return to nature, which perhaps since the time of
+Rousseau has never been worded so eloquently, Fabre has in view if not the
+strong, the predestined, who are called elsewhere, and who are actuated by
+the sense of great tasks to be performed, at least all those of rural
+origin, all those for whom the love of the family, the daily task, and a
+peaceful heart are really the great things of life, the things that count,
+the things that suffice.
+
+He himself, although he was one of the strong, did not care to break any of
+the ties that bound him to his origins. Like the Osmia, "which retains a
+tenacious memory of its home," the beloved village of his childhood has
+never been effaced from his memory, and for a long time the desire to leave
+his bones there haunted him. His mind often returned to it; he thought that
+there, better than anywhere else, he would find peace; that it would please
+him to wander among the rocks, the trees, the stones which he had so loved,
+in the old days, and that all these things would recognize him too.
+
+One day, however, when I was begging him to make up his mind on this point-
+-it was one of those peaceful evenings which are troubled under the plane-
+trees only by the tinkling of the fountain--he confided to me that his
+beloved Sérignan had at last, in his secret preferences, obliterated the
+old longing. As he advanced in life, in fact, although he never forgot his
+rude natal countryside, he felt that new links were daily binding him more
+closely to those heaths and mountains on which his heart had been so often
+thrilled with the intense joy of discovery, and that it was indeed in this
+soil, to him so full of delight, amid its beautiful hymenoptera and
+scarabaei, that he would wish to be buried.
+
+Fabre is by no means the misanthrope that some have chosen to think him. He
+delights in the society of women, and knows how to welcome them gracefully;
+and more than any one he is sensitive to the pleasant and stimulating
+impressions produced by the conversation of cultivated people.
+
+He is no less fond of the arts, provided he finds in them a sincere
+interpretation of life. This is why the theatre, with its false values, its
+tinsel and affectation, has to him seemed a gross deformation of the
+reality, ever since the day when at Ajaccio he attended a performance of
+"Norma," in which the moon was represented by a round transparent disc, lit
+from behind by a lantern hanging at the end of a string, whose oscillation
+revealed by turns first the luminary and then the transparency. This was
+enough to disgust him for ever with the theatre and the opera, whose
+motionless choruses, contrasting with the sometimes frantic movement of the
+music, left him with a memory of an insane and illogical performance.
+
+Nevertheless, he adored music, of which he knew something, having learned
+it, as he learned his drawing, without a master; but he preferred the naive
+songs of the country, or the melody of a flute; to the most scholarly
+concert-music. (15/16.) In the intimacy of the modest chamber which serves
+as the family salon, with its few shabby and old-fashioned pieces of
+furniture, he plays on an indifferent harmonium little airs of his own
+composition, the subjects of which were at first suggested by his own
+poetry. Like Rollinat, Fabre rightly considers that music should complete,
+accentuate, and release that which poetry has perforce left incomplete or
+indefinite. This is why he makes the bise laugh and sing and roar; why he
+imitates the organ-tones of the wind in the pines, and seeks to reproduce
+some of the innumerable rhythms of nature; the frenzy of the lizard, the
+wriggling of the stickle-back, the jumping gait of the frog, the shrill hum
+of the mosquito, the complaint of the cricket, the moving of the Scarabaei,
+and the flight of the Libellulae.
+
+Too busy by day to find time for much reading, it was at night that he
+would shut himself up. Retiring early to his little chamber, with bare
+walls and bare tile floor, and a window opening to the garden, he would lie
+on his low bed, with curtains of green serge, and would often read far into
+the night.
+
+This philosopher, to whose books the philosophers of the future will resort
+for new theories and original ideas, refuses to have any commerce with
+other philosophers, disdaining their systems and preferring to go straight
+to the facts. Even when he took up Darwin's "Origin of Species" he did
+little more than open the book; so wearisome and uninteresting, he told me,
+did he find the reading of it. On the other hand, he is full of the ancient
+philosophers, and as he did not read them very extensively in his youth and
+middle age, he has returned to them finally with love and predilection for
+"these good old books." Unlike many thinkers of the day, he is persuaded
+that we cannot with impunity dispense with classic studies; and he rightly
+considers that science and the humanities are not rivals, but allies. Above
+all he has a particular affection for Virgil; one may say that he is
+steeped in his poetry; and he knows La Fontaine by heart. The style of the
+latter is curiously like his own, and Fabre owns himself as his disciple;
+certainly La Fontaine's is the most active influence which his work
+reveals. He has a profound acquaintance with Rabelais, who was always his
+"friend" and who constantly crops up in his conversation and his chance
+remarks.
+
+After these his intellectual foster-parents have been Courrier, Toussenel,
+of whom he is passionately fond, and Rousseau, of whom he cares for little
+but his "Lettres sur la botanique," full of such fresh impressions, in
+which we feel not the literary man but the "craftsman"; he also cherishes
+Michelet; so full of intuition, although he never handled actual things and
+knew nothing of the practice of the sciences; not learned, but overflowing
+with love; his magic pen, his powers of evocation, and his deft brushwork
+delight Fabre, despite the poverty and insufficiency of his fundamental
+facts (15/17.); sometimes Michelet had been his inspiration. The two do
+really resemble one another; Michelet was no less fitted than Fabre to play
+the confidant to Nature, and his heart was of the same mettle.
+
+Since I have spoken of his favourites, let me also speak of his dislikes;
+Racine, whom he cannot bear; Molière, whom he does not really like; Buffon,
+whom he frankly detests for his too fluent prose, his ostentatious style,
+and his vain rhetoric. The only naturalist whom he might really have
+delighted in, had he possessed his works and been able to read them at
+leisure, is Audubon, the enthusiastic painter of the birds of America. In
+him he felt the presence of a mind and a temper almost identical with his
+own.
+
+
+CHAPTER 16. TWILIGHT.
+
+How he has laboured in this solitude! For he considers that he is still far
+from having completed his task. He feels more and more that he has scarcely
+done more than sketch the history of this singular and almost unknown
+world. "The more I go forward," he wrote to his brother in 1903, "the more
+clearly I see that I have struck my pick into an inexhaustible vein, well
+worthy of being exploited." (16/1.)
+
+What studies he has undertaken, what observations he has carried out,
+"almost at the same time, the same moment!" His laboratory is crowded with
+these subjects of experiments. "As though I had a long future before me"--
+he was then just eighty years old--"I continue indefatigably my researches
+into the lives of these little creatures." (16/2.)
+
+Work in solitude seems to him, more and more, the only life possible, and
+he cannot even imagine any other.
+
+"The outer world scarcely tempts me at all; surrounded by my little family,
+it is enough for me to go into the woods from time to time, to listen to
+the fluting of the blackbirds. The very idea of the town disgusts me.
+Henceforth it would be impossible for me to live in the little cage of a
+citizen. Here I am, run wild, and I shall be so till the end." (16/3.)
+
+For him work has become more than ever an organic function, the true
+corollary of life. "Away with repose! For him who would spend his life
+properly there is nothing like work--so long as the machine will operate."
+
+Is this not the great law for all creatures so long as life lasts?
+
+Why should the man who has made a fortune, who has neither children nor
+relations, and who may die tomorrow, continue to work for himself alone, to
+employ his days and his energies in useless labours which will profit
+neither himself nor his kind?
+
+Ask of the Halictus, which, no longer capable of becoming a mother, makes
+herself guardian of a city, in order still to labour within the measure of
+her means.
+
+Ask of the Osmia, the Megachile, the Anthidium, which "with no maternal
+aim, for the sole joy of labour, strive to expend their forces in the
+accomplishment of their vain tasks, until the forces of life fail."
+
+Ask of the bee, which inaction leaves passive and melancholy so that she
+presently dies of weariness; of the Chalicodoma, so eager a worker that she
+will "let herself be crushed under the feet of the passer-by rather than
+abandon her task."
+
+Ask it of all nature, which knows neither halt nor repose, and who,
+according to the profound saying of Goethe "has pronounced her malediction
+upon all that retards or suspends her progress."
+
+Let us then labour, men and beasts, "so that we may sleep in peace; grubs
+and caterpillars in that torpor which prepares them for the transformation
+into moths and butterflies, and ourselves in the supreme slumber which
+dissolves life in order to renew it."
+
+Let us work, in order to nourish within ourselves that divine intuition
+thanks to which we leave our original impress upon nature; let us work, in
+order to bring our humble contribution to the general harmony of things, by
+our painful and meritorious labour; in order that we may associate
+ourselves with God, share in His creation, and embellish and adorn the
+earth and fill it with wonders. (16/4.)
+
+Forward then! always erect, even amid the tombs, to forget our griefs.
+Fabre finds no better consolation to offer his brother, who has lost almost
+in succession his wife and his eldest daughter:
+
+"Do not take it ill if I have not condoled with you on the subject of your
+recent losses. Tried so often by the bitterness of domestic grief, I know
+too well the inanity of such consolations to offer the like to my friends.
+Time alone does a little cicatrize such wounds; and, let us add, work. Let
+us keep on our feet and at work as long as we are able. I know no better
+tonic." (16/5.)
+
+And this exhortation to work, which recurs so often in the first letters of
+his youth, was to be the last word of the last volume which so splendidly
+terminates the incomparable series of his "Souvenirs": "Laboremus."
+
+...
+
+Age has killed neither his courage nor his energies, and he continues to
+work with the same zeal at nearly ninety years of age, and with as much
+eagerness as though he were destined to live for ever.
+
+Although his physical forces are failing him, although his limbs falter,
+his brain remains intact, and is giving us its last fruit in his studies on
+the Cabbage caterpillar and the Glow-worm, which mark a sudden
+rejuvenescence of thought on his part, and the commencement of a new cycle
+of studies, which promise to be of the greatest originality.
+
+To him the animal world has always been full of dizzy surprises, and the
+insects led him "into a new and barely suspected region, which is ALMOST
+ABSURD." (16/6.)
+
+The glow-worms, motionless on their twigs of thyme, light their lamps of an
+evening, in the cool of the beautiful summer nights. What do these fires
+signify? How explain the mystery of this phosphorescence? Why this slow
+combustion, "this species of respiration, more active than in the ordinary
+state"? and what is the oxidizable substance "which gives this white and
+gentle luminosity"? Is it a flame of love like that which lights the Agaric
+of the olive-tree "to celebrate its nuptials and the emission of its
+spores"? But what reason can the larva have for illuminating itself? Why is
+the egg, already enclosed in the secrecy of the ovaries, already luminous?
+
+"The soft light of the Agaric has confounded our ideas of optics; it does
+not refract, it does not form an image when passed through a lens, it does
+not affect ordinary photographic plates." (16/7.)
+
+But here are other miracles:
+
+"Another fungus, the Clathrix, with no trace of phosphorescence, affects
+photographic plates almost as quickly as would a ray of sunlight. The
+Clathrix tenebrosa does what the Agaricus olearius has no power to do."
+(16/8.)
+
+And if the beacon of the Glow-worm recalls the light of the Agaric, the
+Clathrix reminds us of another insect, the Greater Peacock moth.
+
+In the obscurity of a dark chamber this splendid moth emits phantasmal
+radiations, perhaps intermittent and reserved for the season of nuptials,
+signals invisible to us, and perceptible only to those children of the
+night, who may have found this means to communicate one with another, to
+call one another in the darkness, and to speak with one another. (16/9.)
+
+Such are the interesting subjects which only yesterday were occupying this
+great worker; the occult properties, the radiant energies of organic
+matter; of phosphorescence, of light, the living symbols of the great
+universal Eros.
+
+But embarrassment long ago succeeded the ephemeral prosperity which marked
+the first years of his installation at Sérignan, and that period of plenty
+was followed by a period of difficulty, almost of indigence. His class-
+books, which had succeeded marvellously, and from which the royalties had
+quickly attained to nearly 640 pounds sterling, which was the average
+figure for nearly ten years, were then no longer in vogue. Already the
+times had changed. France was in the crisis of the anti-clerical fever.
+Fabre made frequent allusions in his books of a spiritual nature, and many
+primary inspectors could not forgive what they regarded as a blemish.
+
+We must also mention the keen competition caused by the appearance of
+similar books, usually counterfeit, and the more harmful for that; and as
+their adoption depended entirely on the caprice of commissions or the
+choice of interested persons, those of Fabre were gradually ceasing to
+sell.
+
+It was from 1894 especially that their popularity declined so rapidly:
+
+"Despite all my efforts here I am more anxious than ever about the future,"
+he wrote to his publisher on the 27th of January, 1899; "two more of my
+books are about to disappear, a prelude to total shipwreck...I begin to
+despair." (16/10.)
+
+He was not the man to have saved much money; numerous charges were always
+imposing themselves on him, and his first wife, careless of expenditure,
+had been somewhat extravagant.
+
+While his position as teacher deteriorated his "Souvenirs" brought him
+little more than a nominal profit; for to most people he was still
+completely unknown among the potentates who monopolize the attention of the
+crowd.
+
+"Work such as a Réaumur might be proud of will leave me a beggar, that goes
+without saying, but at least I shall have left my grain of sand. I would
+long ago have given up in despair, had I not, to give me courage, the
+continual research after truth in the little world whose historian I have
+become. I am hoarding ideas, and I make shift to live as I can." (16/11.)
+
+Yet his reputation had long ago crossed the frontiers of his country. He
+had been a corresponding member of the Institute of France since 1887, and
+a Petit d'Ormoy prizeman. (16/12.) He was a member of the most celebrated
+foreign academies, and the entomological societies of the chief capitals of
+Europe; but his fame had not passed the walls of these academies and the
+narrow boundaries of the little world of professional biologists and
+philosophers.
+
+Even in these circles, where he was almost exclusively read and
+appreciated, he was little known, and although he was much admired,
+although he was readily given credit for his admirable talent and
+exceptional knowledge, his readers were far from realizing the real powers
+of this world of life which he has called into being. His books are of
+those whose fertilizing virtues remain long hidden, to shine only at a
+distance, when much frothy writing, that has made a sudden noise in its
+time, has fallen into oblivion.
+
+Every two or three years, after much fond polishing, he would open the door
+to yet another volume which was ready to go forth; adding astonishing
+chapters of the history of insects, wonderful fragments of animal
+psychology, but always obtaining only the same circumscribed success; that
+is, exciting no public curiosity, and remaining unperceived in the midst of
+general indifference.
+
+His books interested only a select class, who, it is true, welcomed them
+eagerly, and read them with wonder and delight. If they excited the
+curiosity of a few philosophers, of scientists and inquirers, and here and
+there determined a vocation, still more, perhaps, did they charm writers
+and poets; they consoled Rostand at the end of a serious illness, their
+virtue, in some sort healing, procuring him both moral repose and a
+delightful relaxation. (16/13.) For all these, we may say, he has been one
+of those ten or twelve authors whom one would wish to take with one into a
+long exile, were they reduced to choosing no more before leaving
+civilization for ever.
+
+Yet we must admit that this work has certain undeniable faults. The title,
+in the first place, has nothing alluring about it, and is calculated to
+deter rather than to attract purchasers, by evoking vague ideas of
+repulsive studies, too arduous or too special.
+
+People have no idea of the wonderful fairyland concealed by this unpopular
+title; no conception that these records are intended, not merely for the
+scientist pure and simple, but in reality for every one.
+
+Moreover, the first few volumes were in no way seductive. They boasted not
+the most elementary drawings to help the reader; not the slightest woodcut
+to give a direct idea of the insects described; of their shape, aspect, or
+physiognomy; and a simple sketch, however poor, is often worth more than
+long and laborious descriptions. The first volumes especially, printed
+economically, at the least possible expense, were not outwardly attractive.
+
+It is also true that he had never founded any great hopes on the sale of
+such works.
+
+Very few people are really interested in the lower animals, and Fabre has
+been reproached with wasting his time over "childish histories, unworthy of
+serious attention and unlikely to make money," of wasting in frivolous
+occupations the time which is passing so quickly and can never return. And
+why should he have still further wasted so many precious hours in executing
+minute drawings whose reproduction would have involved an expenditure which
+his publisher would not dare to venture upon, and which he himself could
+not afford?
+
+For this universal inquirer was well fitted for such a task, and all these
+creatures which he had depicted he is capable of representing with brush
+and pencil as faithfully as with his pen. He had it in him to be not only a
+writer, but an excellent draughtsman, and even a great painter. He has
+reproduced in water-colour, with loving care, the decorations of the
+specimens of prehistoric pottery which his excavations have revealed, and
+which he has endeavoured to reconstruct, with all the science of an
+archaeologist. He has displayed the same skill in water-colour in that
+astonishing iconography, in which he has detailed, with marvellous
+accuracy, all the peculiarities of the mycological flora of the olive-
+growing districts. (16/14.)
+
+As for those "paltry figures" insufficient or flagrantly incorrect in
+drawing, with which many people are satisfied, he regards them as
+"intolerable" in his own books, and as absolutely contradicting the
+rigorous accuracy of his text. (16/15.)
+
+Of late years photography and the skill of his son Paul have supplied this
+deficiency. He taught his son to fix the insects on the sensitive plate in
+their true attitudes, in the reality of their most instantaneous gestures.
+However valuable such documents may be, how much we should prefer fine
+drawings, giving relief not only to forms and colours, but also to the most
+characteristic features and the whole living physiognomy of the creature!
+This is the function of art; but the great artist that was in Fabre was
+capable in this domain of rivalling the magical talent of an Audubon.
+
+Such work was relinquished, although so many romances of nature, so much
+dishonest patch-work, won the applause due to success.
+
+Fabre fell more and more into a state bordering on indigence, and finally
+he was quite forgotten. An opponent of evolution, he was out of the
+fashion. The encyclopaedias barely mentioned him. Lamarckians and
+Darwinians, who still made so much noise in the world, ignored him; and no
+one came now to open the gate behind which was ageing, in obscurity and
+deserted, "one of the loftiest and purest geniuses which the civilized
+world at that moment possessed; one of the most learned naturalists and one
+of the most marvellous of poets in the modern and truly legitimate sense of
+the word." (16/16.)
+
+In the department of Vaucluse, where he lived for more than sixty years, in
+Avignon itself, where he had taught for twenty years, the prefect Belleudy,
+who had succeeded in approaching him, was astonished and distressed to find
+"so great a mind so little known"; for even those about him scarcely knew
+his name. (16/17.)
+
+But what matter! The hermit of Sérignan was not discouraged; he was
+disturbed only by the failure of his strength, and the fear that he could
+not much longer exercise that divine faculty which had always consoled him
+for all his sorrows and his disappointments. He could scarcely drag his
+weary limbs across the pebbles of his Harmas; but he bore his eighty-seven
+years with a fine disdain for age and its failings, and although the fire
+of his glance and that whole, eager countenance still expressed his passion
+for the truth, his abrupt gestures, touched with irony, his simple bearing,
+and the extreme modesty of his whole person, spoke sufficiently of his
+profound indifference toward outside contingencies, for the baubles of fame
+and all the stupidities of life.
+
+At a few miles' distance, in another village, that other great peasant,
+Mistral, the singer of Provence, the poet of love and joy, the minstrel of
+rustic labour and antique faiths, was pursuing, amid the homage of his
+apotheosis, the incredible cycle of his splendid existence.
+
+This glory had come to him suddenly; this fame "whose first glances are
+sweeter than the fires of dawn," and which was never to desert him for
+fifty long years.
+
+The wind of favour which had sweetened his youth continued to propel him in
+full sail. He had only to show himself to be at once surrounded,
+felicitated, worshipped; and his mere presence would sway a crowd as the
+black peaks of the high cypresses are swayed by the great wind that bears
+his name. Like Fabre, he had remained faithful to his native soil; that
+soil which the great naturalist had never been able to leave without at
+once longing impatiently to return to its dusty olives where the cigale
+sings, its ilex trees and its thickets; and so he lived far from the
+cities, in a quiet village, with the same horizon of plains and hills that
+were balmy with thyme, leading in his little home an equal life full of
+wisdom and simplicity.
+
+The hermit of Sérignan was the Lucretius of this Provence, which had
+already found its Virgil. With a very different vision, each had the same
+rustic tastes, the same love of the free spaces of wild nature and the
+scenes of rural life. But Mistral, wherever he looked, saw human life as
+happy and simple, through the prism of his creative imagination and the
+optimism of his happy life. Fabre, on the contrary, behind the sombre
+realities which he studied, saw only the ferocious engagement of confused
+living forces, and a frightful tragedy.
+
+Thus their two lives, which were like parallel lines, never meeting, were
+in keeping with their work. And while Mistral, still young and triumphant
+despite the years, was at Maillane overwhelmed with honours and
+consideration, the poor great man of Sérignan lived an obscure and
+inglorious existence.
+
+He had the greatest trouble to live and rear his family, and almost his
+sole income consisted of an uncertain sum of 120 pounds sterling annually,
+which he had for some years received, in the guise of a pension, by the
+generosity of the Institute, as the Gegner prize.
+
+Finally his situation was so precarious that he decided to sell to a museum
+that magnificent collection of water-colour plates in which he had
+represented, life-size and with an astonishing truth of colour, all the
+fungi which grow in Provence.
+
+He wrote to Mistral on the subject, after the visit which the latter paid
+him in the spring of 1908: the only visit of the kind. Before meeting in
+Saint-Estelle, the Paradise of the Félibres, they had wished not to die
+before at least meeting on this earth.
+
+Fabre wrote to mistral the following letter, which I owe to the kindness of
+the great poet:--
+
+"I have never thought of profiting by my humble fungoid water-
+colours...Fate will perhaps decide otherwise.
+
+"In this connection, permit me to make a confession, to which your nobility
+of character encourages me. Until latterly I had lived modestly on the
+product of my school-books. To-day the weathercock has turned to another
+quarter, and my books no longer sell. So here I am, more than ever in the
+grip of that terrible problem of daily bread. If you think, then, that with
+your help and that of your friends, my poor pictures might help me a
+little, I have decided to let them go, but not without bitterness. It is
+like tearing off a piece of my skin, and I still hold to this old skin,
+shabby as it may be; a little for my own sake, much more for my family's,
+and much more again for the sake of my entomological studies, studies which
+I feel obliged to pursue, persuaded that for a long time to come no one
+will care to resume them, so ungrateful is the calling." (16/18.)
+
+At the instigation of the poet the prefect Belleudy took it upon him to
+intercede with the Minister, from whom he finally wrung a grant of 40
+pounds sterling, "in encouragement of the sciences." Finally he ventured to
+reveal the situation to the General Council of Vaucluse, and to require it
+to contribute at least its share, in order to ensure a peaceful and decent
+old age to a man who was not only the greatest celebrity of the department,
+but also one of the highest glories of the nation. He pleaded so well and
+so nobly that the assembly granted Fabre an annual sum of 20 pounds
+sterling, "as the public homage which his compatriots pay to his lofty
+science and HIS EXCESSIVE MODESTY." (16/19.) At the same time, in a
+generous impulse, the Council placed at his disposal all the scientific
+equipment of the departmental laboratory of agricultural analysis, which
+was no longer used; there was indeed talk of suppressing it.
+
+Now that the burden of his days weighed so heavily on him, and his task was
+virtually finished, everything, by the customary irony of things, was
+coming his way simultaneously: not only what was necessary and
+indispensable, but even something that was superfluous.
+
+So one day all these delicate instruments, useless to a biologist who by
+the very nature of his labours had done without them all his life, and had
+never wearied of denying their utility, arrived at Sérignan. He did not
+possess even one modest thermometer; and as for the superb microscope over
+which he so often bent, the only costly instrument in his rustic
+laboratory, it was a precious present which, at the instigation of Duruy,
+Dumas the chemist had given him years before; but a simple lens very often
+sufficed him. "The secrets of life," he somewhere writes, "are to be
+obtained by simple, makeshift, inexpensive means. What did the best results
+of my inquiry into instinct cost me? Only time, and above all, patience."
+
+It was then that a few of his disciples, finally affected by such
+abandonment, decided to celebrate his jubilee, hoping thus to reveal both
+his name and his wonderful books to the crowd that knew nothing of him.
+(16/20.)
+
+It was time; a little longer, and, according to his racy phrase, "the
+violins would have come too late." The old master is daily nearer his
+decline; his sight, once so piercing, is now so obscured that he can barely
+see to sign his name, in a small, tremulous hand, confused and illegible.
+His muscles are so feeble now that he can walk only in short steps, on his
+wife's arm, leaning on a cane; and he would soon be piteously exhausted
+were not some seat available within immediate reach. Very soon now he will
+no longer hope to make the tour of this Harmas, which his feet have trodden
+daily for thirty years. In this failure of the body, all that survives are
+the two sparkling cavities of his eyes and his extraordinary memory.
+
+But he is far from being mournful: he feels only an immense lassitude, and
+an infinite regret that perhaps he will not be able to bring his series of
+"Souvenirs" to the point he had desired; not wishing to die until he has
+pushed his career as far as is in his power; without having worked, on his
+feet, until the very hour when the light of this world is suddenly
+withdrawn, and his eyes open upon the infinite life, beyond the infinite
+worlds of space.
+
+The festival took place on the 3rd of April of the year 1910, and was
+touching in its simplicity.
+
+What an unforgettable day in the life of Fabre! That morning the gate of
+the Harmas was left open to all, and many of the people of Sérignan who
+invaded the garden were able to look for the first time on the face of
+their fellow-citizen, who had so long lived among them, and whom they had
+now, to their astonishment, discovered.
+
+But among the crowd of friends and admirers who, coming from all parts,
+pressed around the little pink house, the most amazed of all was Marius,
+the blind cabinet-maker, unable to contain his intense delight at the
+sudden burning of so much incense before his idol, for to him it had seemed
+that this day of apotheosis would never dawn!
+
+For nothing was certain, although the day of the jubilee had long been
+fixed. In the first place there had been serious defections in the ranks of
+the official personages who were to take part in the ceremony. Then the
+weather was terrible for the time of year; the spring had commenced
+gloomily, a season of floods and catastrophes. But on this morning the rain
+of days had ceased to fall, and suddenly the sun appeared.
+
+Among other compliments and marks of homage the old man was presented with
+a golden plaque, on one side of which Sicard, who stood revealed as a
+master of the burin, had engraved his portrait with rare fidelity. The
+reverse was resplendent with one of the most beautiful syntheses which the
+history of art has known; a surprising allegory, in which the imagination
+of the artist evoked the man of science, the singer of the insects, the
+landscape which had seen the birth of so many little lives, and the village
+amid the olive-trees, in front of the sun-steeped Ventoux.
+
+At this festival, the jubilee of a scientist, the scientists were least
+numerous.
+
+The banquet was given in the large room of a cafe in the midst of Sérignan;
+in order, no doubt, that in this humble life even glory should be modest.
+
+As Fabre could not walk, he was helped into the carriage of ceremony, which
+was sent expressly from Orange, and the little procession, which was
+swelled by the municipal choral society, spurred on by Marius, moved slowly
+off along the sole central street.
+
+It was a great family repast: one of those love-feasts in which all
+communicate in a single thought.
+
+Edmond Perrier brought the naturalist the homage of the Institute, and
+expressed in unaffected terms the just admiration which he himself felt.
+The better to praise him, he gave a summary of his admirable career, and
+his immortal work. At the evocation of this long past of labour Fabre
+regretted his poor vanished joys, "the sole moments of happiness in his
+life."
+
+Moved to tears, by his memories and by the simple and pious homage at last
+rendered to his genius, he wept, and many, seeing him weep, wept with him.
+
+Others spoke in the name of the great anonymous crowd of friends, of all
+those who had found a source of infinite enjoyment in his works. At the
+same time the greatest writers, the greatest poets sent on the same day, at
+the same hour, their salutation or eloquent messages to the "Virgil of the
+insects" (16/21.), to the "good magician who knew the language of the
+myriad little creatures of the fields." (16/22.)
+
+Doubtless he would sooner or later have received full justice; but without
+this circumstance it is permissible to add that the end of his life would
+have passed amidst the completest oblivion, and that he would have taken
+leave of the world without attracting any particular attention. His death
+would have occurred unperceived, and when the little vault of Vaison stone,
+up in the small square enclosure of pebbles which serves as the village
+cemetery, where those he has loved await him, came to be opened for the
+last time, they would hardly have troubled to close it again.
+
+Yet the honours paid him were far from being such as he merited.
+
+Why, at this jubilee of the greatest of the entomologists, was not a single
+appointed representative of entomology present? (16/22.)
+
+The fact is that the majority of those who "amid the living seek only for
+corpses," according to the expression of Bacon, unwilling to see in Fabre
+anything more than an imaginative writer, and being themselves incapable of
+understanding the beautiful and of distinguishing it in the true,
+reproached him, perhaps with more jealousy than conviction, with having
+introduced literature into the domains of science.
+
+Other entomological specialists accuse him of presenting in the guise of
+science discoveries which have been made by others. But in the first place,
+as he has read very little, he certainly did not know all that had been
+done by others; and what matter if he had discovered nothing essential
+concerning this or that insect if the result of his study of it has been to
+impregnate it with something new, or to touch it with the breath of life?
+
+Others, finally, who wished to see with their own eyes the proof of his
+statements, have reproached him with a few errors; but he observed so
+skilfully that these errors, if any have really slipped into his books,
+cannot be very serious.
+
+He was one of the glories of the University, but it failed to add to the
+brilliance of this ceremony, and it is to be regretted that the Government
+could not amid its temporary preoccupations have done with all the
+spontaneity that might have been looked for the one thing which might on
+this memorable date have atoned for its unjust obliviousness. Since Duruy
+had created Fabre a chevalier of the Empire more than forty years had gone
+by, and in this long interval Fabre was absolutely ignored by the
+authorities. While the State daily raises so many commonplace men to the
+highest honours, it was afterwards needful to procure the intervention of
+influential persons, to justify his worth and to prove his deserts, in
+order to obtain his promotion through one degree of rank in that Legion of
+Honour which his eminent services had so long adorned.
+
+This tardy reparation at least had the result of shedding a twilight of
+glory over the evening of his life, and from that day he suddenly appeared
+in his true place and took his rank as a man of the first order. Everybody
+began to read him, and presently no one was willing to seem ignorant of
+him, for more of his "Souvenirs entomologiques" were sold in a few months
+than had been disposed of in more than twenty years. (16/24.)
+
+At last Fabre experienced not only glory and renown, but also popularity.
+This was only justice, for his is essentially a popular genius. Has he not
+striven all his life to place the marvels of science within reach of all?
+And has he not written above all for the children of the people?
+
+So at last people have learned the way to the Harmas; they go thither now
+in crowds, to visit the enclosure and the modest laboratory, as to a
+veritable place of pilgrimage which attracts from afar many fervent
+admirers.
+
+Some, it is true, go thither to see him simply as an object of curiosity;
+but even among these there are those who on returning thence, full of
+enthusiasm for what they have seen, find the flowers of the fields more
+sweet and fragile, and the wild fragrance of the woods and hedges more
+voluptuous, and the green of the trees more tender. They have learnt to
+look at the earth and to "kneel in the grass."
+
+Scientists come to chat with the scientist. Others come to salute the
+primary schoolman, the lay instructor, the great pedagogue whose glory is
+reflected upon all the primary schools of France.
+
+Those who cannot visit him write, telling him of all the pleasure which
+they owe him, thanking him for long and delightful hours passed in the
+reading of his books, expressing the hope that he may yet live many years,
+and still further increase the number of his "Souvenirs."
+
+Some ask him a host of questions relating to entomology or philosophy;
+others ask him for impossible answers to some of the fascinating and
+mysterious problems which he has expounded; women confide in him their
+little private griefs or their intimate sorrows, a naive form of homage;
+but a thousand times more touching than any other, and one that shows how
+profound has been the beneficent influence of his books upon certain
+isolated minds, and what consolation can be derived from science when it
+finds a sufficiently eloquent voice to interpret it.
+
+As he can work no longer, these visits now fill his life, formally so
+occupied; and in the midst of all the sympathy extended to him he is
+sensible, not of the twilight, but of a sunrise; he feels that his work has
+been good, that an infinity of minds are learning through him to regard
+plants and animals with greater affection; and that the consideration of
+men, finally directed upon his work, will not readily exhaust it, for it is
+one of the Bibles of Nature.
+
+
+
+
+NOTES.
+
+NOTES TO INTRODUCTION.
+
+Introduction/1. Letters to his brother, 1898-1900.
+
+Introduction/2. I have made some valuable "finds" here; among other pieces
+cited the fragment on "Playthings," the curious description of the
+"Eclipse," and the poem on "Number" are here published for the first time.
+
+Introduction/3. This negligence in the matter of correspondence is not
+least among the causes which have mitigated against his popularity.
+
+NOTES TO CHAPTER 1.
+
+1/1. "It is a country that has very little charm." To his brother, 18th
+August, 1846.
+
+1/2. "Practicien, homme d'affaires ou de chicane": roughly, "practitioner,
+man of business or law": so his father is described in his birth
+certificate.
+
+1/3. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 2nd series, chapter 4, and 7th series,
+chapter 19.
+
+1/4. Id., 8th series, chapter 8.
+
+1/5. To his brother, 15th August, 1896.
+
+1/6. Id. "As brothers, we are one only; but in virtue of our different
+tastes we are two, and I am amused and interested where you might well be
+bored."
+
+1/7. Frédéric Fabre, like his brother, an ex-scholar of the normal primary
+school of Vaucluse, was first of all teacher at Lapalud (Vaucluse), then
+professor in the communal college of Orange. He was director of the primary
+school attached to the normal school of Avignon, where he voluntarily
+retired from teaching in 1859. He then became, successively, secretary to
+the Chamber of Commerce of Avignon, director of the Vaucluse Docks, and
+finally director of the Crillon Canal, which position he still occupies
+(December, 1912).
+
+1/8. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 10th series, chapter 9.
+
+1/9. Among his innumerable manuscripts I have found a vast number of little
+poems, which date from this period.
+
+1/10. It was then that he gave up his position to his brother Frédéric, who
+had continually followed closely in his steps, and who in turn had just
+obtained the qualification of pupil-teacher and bursar (August, 1842).
+
+1/11. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 10 series, chapter 21.
+
+1/12. To his brother, 2nd and 9th of June, 1851.
+
+
+NOTES TO CHAPTER 2.
+
+2/1. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 1st series, chapter 20, and 9th series,
+chapter 13.
+
+2/2. Id., 6th series, chapter 21.
+
+2/3. To his brother, from Ajaccio, 10th June, 1850.
+
+2/4. Id., id.
+
+2/5. Id., from Carpentras, 15th August, 1846.
+
+2/6. Id., from Ajaccio, 10th June, 1850.
+
+2/7. Id., from Carpentras, 15th August, 1846.
+
+2/8. Id., id.
+
+2/9. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 1st series, chapter 14.
+
+2/10. To his brother, from Carpentras, 3rd September, 1848.
+
+2/11. Id., 8th September, 1848.
+
+2/12. Id., id.
+
+2/13. Id., 3rd September, 1848.
+
+2/14. Id., id.
+
+2/15. Letter to the Rector of the Nîmes Academy, 29th September, 1848.
+
+2/16. To his brother, 29th September, 1848.
+
+NOTES TO CHAPTER 3.
+
+3/1. To his father, from Ajaccio, 14th April, 1850.
+
+3/2. To his brother, from Ajaccio, 1851.
+
+3/3. To his brother, from Ajaccio, 9th June, 1851.
+"I have set to work upon a conchology of Corsica, which I hope soon to
+publish."
+
+3/4. The Helix Raspaillii.
+
+3/5. To his brother, from Ajaccio, 10th June, 1850.
+
+3/6. Id., id.
+
+3/7. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 9th series, chapter 14.
+
+3/8. Number, (Le Nombre--ARITHMOS), poem, Ajaccio, September, 1852.
+
+3/9. To his brother, from Ajaccio, 2nd June, 1851.
+
+3/10. Id., 10th October, 1852, and "Souvenirs entomologiques," 10th series,
+chapter 21.
+
+3/11. Fr. Mistral, "Mémoires."
+Moquin-Tandon, born at Montpellier, was professor of Natural History at
+Marseilles, at Toulouse, and in Paris.
+
+3/12. To his brother, from Ajaccio, 10th October, 1852.
+
+3/13. Id.
+
+3/14. To his brother, from Carpentras, 3rd December, 1851.
+"Our crossing was atrocious. Never have I seen so terrible a sea, and that
+the packet-boat was not broken up by the force of the waves must have been
+due to the fact that our time had not yet come. On two or three occasions I
+thought my last moment was at hand; I leave you to imagine what a terrible
+experience I had. In ordinary weather the packet by which we travelled
+makes the voyage from Ajaccio to Marseilles in about eighteen hours; it is
+said to be the fastest steamer on the Mediterranean. On this occasion it
+took three days and two nights."
+
+3/15. January, 1853.
+
+NOTES TO CHAPTER 4.
+
+4/1. To his brother, from Avignon, 1st August, 1854.
+"I have arrived at Toulouse, where I have passed the best examination one
+could possibly wish. I have been accepted as licentiate with the most
+flattering compliments, and the expenses of the examination should be
+returned to me. The examination was of a higher level than I had expected."
+
+4/2. To M. -- (of the Institute), from Avignon, 1854.
+(Letter communicated to M. Belleudy, prefect of Vaucluse, by M. Vollon,
+painter.)
+
+4/3. Id.
+
+4/4. To his brother, from Ajaccio, 10th October, 1852.
+
+4/5. Observations concerning the habits of the Cerceris and the cause of
+the long preservation of the coleoptera with which it provisions its
+larvae.--"Annales de Sc. natur.," 4th series, 1855.
+
+4/6. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 10th series, chapter 22.
+
+4/7. "I had only one idea: to free myself, to leave the lycée, where, not
+being a fellow, I was treated as a subordinate. An inspector-general told
+me frankly one day, 'You will never amount to anything if you are not a
+fellow' (agrégé). 'These distinctions disgust me,' I replied."
+(Conversations.)
+
+4/8. To his brother, from Ajaccio, 14th January, 1850.
+
+4/9. Inquiries respecting the tubercles of Himantoglossum hircinum. Thesis
+in Botany, 1855.
+
+4/10. Inquiries respecting the anatomy of the reproductive organs, and the
+developments of the Myriapoda. Thesis in Zoology, 1855.
+
+4/11. Prize for experimental physiology, 1856.
+
+4/12. Letter to Léon Dufour, 1st February, 1857.
+
+4/13. "The Origin of Species," 1857 (?), translated by Barbier, page 15.
+
+4/14. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 1st series, chapter 1, and 5th series,
+chapter 1.
+
+4/15. Id., 1st series, chapter 16.
+
+4/16. Id., 1st series, chapter one.
+
+4/17. Henry Devillario, magistrate at Carpentras, where he performed his
+duties as juge d'instruction until his death. A notable collector and
+distinguished publicist.
+Dr. Bordone, to-day at Frontignan. Vayssières, professor of Zoology in the
+faculty of sciences at Marseilles.
+
+4/18. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 1st series, chapter 13.
+
+4/19. He was subject in his youth to violent headaches, "which sometimes
+developed into a cerebral fever," as well as strange nervous troubles: "A
+few days ago I was attacked, at night, with a sudden nervous illness, of a
+terrifying nature, which I have not as yet been able to identify." To his
+brother, 3rd September, 1848.
+Severe disappointment or annoyance always had a great effect upon him; on
+the occasion of his first marriage he fell into a sort of cataleptic
+condition as a result of the opposition of his parents and relations, who
+sought to oppose it. (Conversations with his brother.)
+
+4/20. "Souvenirs entomologiques" 9th series, chapter 23.
+
+4/21. Id., 10th series, chapter 22.
+
+4/22. Letter to Lèon Dufour, 1st February, 1857.
+"Steps have been taken to obtain for me the post of drawing-master (maître
+des travaux graphiques). If they succeed, thanks to the little talent I
+have for drawing, my salary will reach a reasonable figure, 120 pounds
+sterling, and I can then, by giving up these abominable private lessons,
+cultivate rather more seriously the studies into which you have initiated
+me." Communicated by M. Achard.
+
+4/23. "Souvenirs entomologiques" 10th series, chapter 22.
+
+4/24. Oubreto Prouvençalo. La Cigale et la Fourmi.
+
+4/25. Lavisse. A minister. Victor Duruy.
+
+4/26. Letter to the municipal councillors of Avignon.
+
+4/27. J. Stuart Mill, "Autobiography," chapter 6.
+
+4/28. I have visited this house; nothing, at all events outside, has
+changed in the least.
+
+4/29. Mill collaborated in his "Flore du Vaucluse": "A virtuous man whose
+recent loss we shall all deplore joined his efforts to mine in this
+undertaking." Letter to the Mayor of Avignon, 1st December, 1833,
+communicated by M. Félix Achard.
+
+NOTES TO CHAPTER 5.
+
+5/1. "Chimie agricole."
+
+5/2. "Le Ciel." Lectures et Leçons pour tous.
+
+5/3. "La Terre." Lectures et Leçons pour tous.
+
+5/4. "La Chimie de l'oncle Paul." Lectures courantes pour toutes les
+écoles.
+
+5/5. "Histoire de la bûche."
+
+5/6. "Les jouets. Le Toton" (manuscript).
+The primitive fountain, the "antique appliance" transmitted by inheritance,
+"the invention perhaps of some little unemployed herd-boy," consisted
+originally of three apertures and three straws; two similar apertures on
+one side, with two short straws, which dipped into the water, and a single
+orifice on the other side for the longer straw which delivered the water.
+Happening one day to use only two straws, one on each side, the little
+Fabre perceived that the device worked just as well, and "so, quite
+unconsciously, without thinking of it, I discovered the syphon, the true
+syphon of the physicist." Loco cit.
+
+5/7. "The chemistry course is a great success at home." To his brother,
+from Orange, 1875.
+
+5/8. To his son Émile, 4th November, 1879.
+"The household; discussions as to domestic economy for use in girls'
+schools."
+
+5/9. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 2nd series, chapter 1.
+
+5/10. To the Mayor of Avignon, 1st December, 1873. Communicated by M. Félix
+Achard.
+
+5/11. Letter to his brother, 1875.
+
+5/12. Id.
+
+NOTES TO CHAPTER 6.
+
+6/1. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 2nd series, chapter 1. "L'Harmas."
+
+6/2. Id., 6th series, chapter 5.
+
+6/3. The Lumbricus phosporeus of Dugés. Fabre had already clearly perceived
+that this curious phenomenon of phosphorescence appears at birth, and he
+saw in it a process of oxidation, a species of respiration, especially
+active in certain tissues.
+Letter to Léon Dufour, 1st February, 1857. Communicated by M. Félix Achard.
+
+6/4. To his brother, from Carpentras, 15th August, 1846.
+
+6/5. He died at the age of 96.
+
+6/6. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 1st series, chapter 21.
+
+6/7. To his son Émile, 4th November, 1879.
+
+6/8. To Henry Devillario, 30th March, 1883.
+
+6/9. Id., 17th December, 1888.
+
+NOTES TO CHAPTER 7.
+
+7/1. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 8th series, chapter 12.
+
+7/2. Id., 7th series, chapter 16.
+
+7/3. Id., 1st series, chapter 4.
+
+7/4. Id., 2nd series, chapter 3.
+
+7/5. Id., 6th series, chapter 21.
+
+7/6. Id., 1st series, chapter 19, and 2nd series, chapter 7.
+
+7/7. Id., 7th series, chapter 23.
+
+7/8. Maeterlinck, "The Bee."
+
+7/9. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 7th series, chapter 2.
+
+7/10. Id., 8th series, chapter 22.
+
+7/11. Id., 6th series, chapter 6.
+
+7/12. Id., 9th series, chapter 10.
+
+7/13. Bergson, "l'Evolution créatrice."
+
+7/14. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 10th series, chapter 6.
+
+7/15. "Les Serviteurs" and "Les Auxiliaires."
+
+7/16. François Raspail, born at Carpentras in 1794, was also a professor at
+the college of Carpentras.
+
+7/17. To his brother, 3rd September, 1848.
+The improvement did not last long; the child died finally a short time
+afterwards.
+
+7/18. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 10th series, chapter 21.
+
+7/19. Ed. Perrier. Private letter, 27th October, 1909.
+"He is the finest of all our observers, and all scientists should bow to
+the facts which he excels in discovering."
+
+7/20. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 6th series, chapter 25.
+
+7/21. Id., 10th series, chapter 16.
+
+7/22. Id., 10th series, chapter 20.
+
+7/23. Manuscripts, unpublished observations.
+
+7/24. A common spectacle in Provence, but one which Fabre never wearied of
+seeing.
+
+7/25. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 6th series, chapter 17.
+
+7/26. We know that the great naturalist was far from being charmed by the
+song of the nightingale.
+
+7/27. Manuscripts, unpublished observation. These remarks deal with the
+solar eclipse of 28th May, 1900.
+
+7/28. Among the insects which he has observed there are many which are not
+always sufficiently characterized. "Insectes coléoptères observes aux
+environs d'Avignon." Avignon, pub. Seguin, 1870.
+
+7/29. Coleoptera observed in the neighbourhood of Avignon. A catalogue now
+very scarce, a copy of which I owe to the kindness of Dr. Chobaut, of
+Avignon.
+
+7/30. Nomina si nescis, perit et cognitio rerum.
+
+7/31. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 4th series, chapter 11.
+
+7/32. Id., 9th series, chapter 19.
+
+7/33. Id., 1st series, chapter 9.
+
+7/34. "Jenner's Legend of the isolation of the young Cuckoo in the nest,"
+by Xavier Raspail, "Bull. de la Soc. Zool. de France," 1903.
+
+7/35. "Souvenirs entomologiques" 1st series, passim.
+
+7/36. Id., 4th series, chapter 14.
+
+7/37. Id., 1st series, chapter 7.
+
+7/38. Id., 2nd series, chapter 2.
+
+NOTES TO CHAPTER 8.
+
+8/1. "Souvenirs entomologiques" 1st series, chapter 2.
+
+8/2. Bergson, "l'Evolution créatrice."
+
+8/3. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 2nd series, chapter 4.
+
+8/4. Id., 5th series, chapter 8.
+
+8/5. Id., 9th series, chapter 3.
+
+8/6. Id., 1st series, chapter 22.
+
+8/7. Id., 4th series, chapter 3.
+
+8/8. Id., 4th series, chapter 3.
+
+8/9. Id., 4th and 1st series, chapter 19.
+
+8/10. Id., 9th series, chapter 24.
+
+8/11. Id., 10th series, chapter 5.
+
+8/12. Id., 4th series, chapter 6.
+
+8/13. Id., 9th series, chapter 16.
+
+8/14. Id., 2nd series, chapter 5.
+
+8/15. Id., 5th series, chapter 7.
+
+8/16. Id., 6th series, chapter 8.
+
+8/17. Id., 3rd series, chapters 17, 18, 19 and 20.
+
+8/18. Id., 2nd series, chapter 15.
+
+8/19. Id., 3rd series, chapter 11.
+
+8/20. Emerson.
+
+8/21. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 4th series, chapter 9.
+
+8/22. Unpublished observations.
+
+8/23. "Mireille," 3rd canto.
+
+NOTES TO CHAPTER 9.
+
+9/1. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 8th series, chapter 21.
+
+9/2. "Les Ravageurs," chapter 34, agriculture.
+
+9/3. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 10th series, chapter 12.
+
+9/4. Id., 1st series, chapter 2, and 10th series, chapter 13.
+
+9/5. Id., 2nd series, chapter 17.
+
+9/6. Id., 7th series, chapter 20.
+
+9/7. Id., 2nd series, chapter 4.
+
+9/8. At novitas mundi nec frigora dura ciebat,
+Nec nimios aestus.
+Lucretius, "De Natura rerum."
+
+9/9. In this connection see the excellent introduction written by M. Edmond
+Perrier to serve as preface to the work of M. de Romanes: "l'Intelligence
+des animaux."
+
+9/10. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 8th series, chapter 20.
+
+9/11. To Henry Devillario, 30th March, 1883.
+
+9/12. To Henry Devillario, 12th May, 1883.
+
+9/13. To his brother, 1900.
+
+9/14. Letters to his brother.
+"I am not sulking; far from it...I have no lack of ink and paper; I am too
+careful of them to lack them; but I do lack time...So you still think I am
+sulking because I do not reply! But imagine, my dear and petulant brother,
+that for several weeks I have been pursuing, with unequalled persistence,
+some abominable conic problems proposed at the fellowship examination, and
+once I have mounted my hobby-horse, good-bye to letters, good-bye to
+replies, goodbye to everything." (Carpentras, 27th November, 1848.)
+"You are right, seven times right to storm at me, to grumble at my silence,
+and I admit, in all contrition, that I am the worst correspondent you could
+find. To force myself to write a letter is to place myself on the rack, as
+well you know...But why do you get it into your head, why do you tell me,
+that I disdain you, that I forget you, that I ignore you, you, my best
+friend?...For my silence blame only the multiplicity of tasks, which often
+surpasses, not my courage, but my strength and my time." (Ajaccio, 1st
+June, 1851.)
+
+9/15. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 10th series, chapter 8.
+
+9/16. Id., 9th series, chapter 2.
+
+NOTES TO CHAPTER 10.
+
+10/1. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 1st series, chapter 21.
+
+10/2. Id., 9th series, chapter 2.
+
+10/3. Id., 10th series, chapter 4.
+
+10/4. Montaigne's Essays.
+
+10/5. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 8th series, chapter 17.
+
+10/6. "Les Ravageurs."
+
+10/7. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 10th series, chapter 18, and "Merveilles
+de l'instinct: la Chenille du chou."
+
+10/8. Id., 8th series, chapter 17.
+
+NOTES TO CHAPTER 11.
+
+11/1. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 3rd series, chapter 8.
+
+11/2. Id., 2nd series, chapter 14 et seq.
+
+11/3. Id., 6th series, chapter 9.
+
+11/4. Id., 5th series, chapter 19.
+
+11/5. Tolstoy: "All that the human heart contains of evil should disappear
+at the contact of nature, that most immediate expression of the beautiful
+and the good." ("The Invaders.")
+
+11/6. The "Livre d'histoires" and "Chimie agricole."
+
+11/7. "Oubreto Provençalo. La Bise."
+
+11/8. Id., "Le Semeur."
+
+11/9. Id., "Le Crapaud."
+
+NOTES TO CHAPTER 12.
+
+12/1. "Oubreto Provençalo. Le Maréchal."
+
+12/2. "Oubreto Provençalo."
+
+12/3. In this connection see the admirable passage in Sainte-Beuve's "Port-
+Royal," Book 2, chapter 14.
+
+12/4. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 4th series, chapter 1.
+
+12/5. Id., 1st series, chapter 17.
+
+12/6. Id., 7th series, chapter 8.
+
+12/7. Id., 7th series, chapter 10.
+
+12/8. Id., 8th series, chapter 8.
+
+12/9. Id., 8th series, chapter 20.
+
+12/10. Id., 6th series, chapter 14.
+
+12/11. Id., 8th series, chapter 18.
+
+12/12. Id., 10th series, chapter 8.
+
+12/13. Id., 10th series, chapter 6.
+
+12/14. Id., 5th series, chapter 22.
+
+NOTES TO CHAPTER 13.
+
+13/1. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 10th series, chapter 17.
+
+13/2. Id., 9th series, chapter 4, "l'Exode des arignées" (the Exodus of the
+Spiders), and chapter 5, "l'Araignée crabe" (the Crab Spider).
+
+13/3. Id., 5th series, chapter 17.
+
+13/4. Id., 3rd series, chapter 8.
+
+13/5. Id., 6th series, chapter 14.
+"Oubreto. Le Grillon," and unpublished verses.
+
+13/6. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 2nd series, chapter 16.
+
+13/7. Id., 9th series, chapter 21.
+
+13/8. "Les Merveilles de l'instinct: le Ver luisant" (Marvels of Instinct:
+the Glow-worm).
+
+13/9. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 2nd series, chapter 12.
+
+13/10. Id., 8th series, chapter 22, and 9th series, chapter 11.
+
+13/11. Id., 5th series, chapter 18.
+
+NOTES TO CHAPTER 14.
+
+14/1. Grandjean de Fouchy: eulogy of Réaumur, in "Recueils de l'Acad.des
+sciences," volume 157 H, page 201, and Preface to the "Lettres inédites de
+Réaumur," by G. Musset.
+
+14/2. "Mémoires," passim, and volume 2, 1st mémoire.
+
+14/3. Id., volume 3, 3rd mémoire.
+
+14/4. Id., volume 2, 1st mémoire.
+Ch. Tellier, "Le Frigorifique" (Refrigeration), story of a modern
+invention, chapter 23; cold applied to the animal kingdom.
+
+14/5. Léon Dufour: "Journal de sa vie."
+Souvenirs and impressions of travel in the Pyrenees to Gavarnie, Héas, the
+"Montagnes maudites," etc. Entomological excursions on the dunes of
+Biscarosse and Arcachon.
+
+14/6. Id., direction of entomological studies.
+
+14/7. "Souvenirs entomologiques" 2nd series, chapter 1: "L'Harmas."
+
+14/8. Id., 5th series, chapter 11.
+
+NOTES TO CHAPTER 15.
+
+15/1. Louis Charrasse, private letter, 20th February, 1912, and "Le Bassin
+du Rhône," March, 1911.
+
+15/2. "Oubreto. Le Crapaud."
+
+15/3. It was only in the afternoon that he devoted himself, when needful,
+to microscopic researches, on account of the better inclination of the
+light.
+
+15/4. He lost it at the end of last spring.
+
+15/5. "Les Serviteurs. Le Canard."
+
+15/6. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 1st series, chapter 13: an ascent of Mont
+Ventoux.
+
+15/7. The name given to Christmas in Provence.
+
+15/8. Louis Charrasse, private letters.
+
+15/9. Id.
+
+15/10. 1888-1892.
+
+15/11. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 2nd series, chapter 2.
+
+15/12. Louis Charrasse, private letter.
+
+15/13. Letter to his nephew, Antonin Fabre, 4th January, 1885.
+
+15/14. "Souvenirs entomologiques," 6th series, chapter 19.
+
+15/15. Id., 6th series, chapter 2.
+
+15/16. Id., 6th series, chapter 11.
+
+15/17. Conversations.
+
+NOTES TO CHAPTER 16.
+
+16/1. Letter to his brother, 4th February, 1900.
+
+16/2. To his brother, 18th July, 1908. At this time the eighth volume of
+his "Souvenirs" had just appeared, and the ninth was in hand.
+
+16/3. Id.
+
+16/4. "Chimie agricole."
+
+16/5. To his brother, 10th October, 1898.
+
+16/6. Private letter, 30th March, 1908.
+
+16/7. Id.
+
+16/8. Id.
+
+16/9. Unpublished experiments.
+
+16/10. To Charles Delagrave, 27th January, 1899.
+
+16/11. To his brother, 4th February, 1900.
+
+16/12. This prize was awarded to Fabre in 1899. The amount of the prize is
+400 pounds sterling. It is one of the chief prizes of the Institute.
+
+16/13. Edmond Rostand. Private letter, 7th April, 1910: "His books have
+been my delight during a very long convalescence."
+
+16/14. This magnificent atlas, the gem of Fabre's collections, comprises
+nearly 700 plates, and a large body of explanatory and descriptive matter.
+
+16/15. To Charles Delagrave, undated.
+
+16/16. Maeterlinck. Private letter, 17th November, 1909.
+"Les 4 Chemins,
+"Grasse (Alpes-Maritimes).
+"You overwhelm me with pleasure and do me the greatest honour in allowing
+my name to be inscribed among those of the committee which proposes to
+celebrate the jubilee of Henri Fabre...Henri Fabre is, indeed, one of the
+chiefest and purest glories that the civilized world at present possesses;
+one of the most learned naturalists and the most wonderful of poets in the
+modern and truly legitimate sense of the word. I cannot tell you how
+delighted I am by the chance you offer me of expressing in this way one of
+the profoundest admirations of my life."
+
+16/17. J. Belleudy, prefect of Vaucluse. Private letter, 29th September,
+1909.
+"It pains me to see so great a mind, so eminent a scientist, such a master
+of French literature, so little known. Two years ago, when the Gegner prize
+was awarded to him, I felt that I must speak of him to certain of those
+about me; and they had hardly heard his name!"
+
+16/18. Letter to Frédéric Mistral, 4th July, 1908.
+
+16/19. Council General of Vaucluse, session of August, 1908. The words of
+the recorder, M. Lacour, mayor of Orange, to-day deputy for Vaucluse, a
+personal friend and ardent admirer of the old master.
+
+16/20. Edmond Rostand. Private letter, 20th November, 1909.
+"I am, sir, not only greatly touched, but also and above all delighted that
+you have thought of including me among the friends who wish to fete Henri
+Fabre. Thanks for having considered that my name would assist your
+undertaking. The "Souvenirs entomologiques" have long ago made me intimate
+with his charming, profound, and moving genius. I owe them an infinity of
+delightful hours. Perhaps also I ought to thank them for having encouraged
+one of my sons to pursue the vocation which he entered. If, in order to
+honour Henri Fabre, you run the pious risk of disturbing, for a moment, the
+studious retreat in which, for so many years, he has pursued his life and
+his work, it is an act of justice toward this great scientist, who thinks
+as a philosopher, sees as an artist, and feels and expresses himself as a
+poet."
+Romain Rolland. Private letter, 7th January, 1910.
+"You cannot imagine what pleasure you have given me by requesting me to
+associate myself in the glorification of J.H. Fabre. He is one of the
+Frenchmen whom I most admire. The impassioned patience of his ingenious
+observations delights me as much as the masterpieces of art. For years I
+have read and loved his books. During my last holidays, of three volumes
+that I travelled with two were volumes of his "Souvenirs entomologiques."
+You will honour me and delight me by counting me as one of you."
+
+16/21. Edmond Rostand. Telegram.
+
+16/22. Romain Rolland.
+
+
+INDEX.
+
+Achard, M.
+
+Agaricus, luminosity of.
+
+"Agricultural Chemistry."
+
+Ajaccio, Fabre at.
+
+Ammophila.
+
+Anthidium.
+
+Anthophora.
+
+Anthrax.
+
+Arachne clotho.
+
+Arachnoids, cannibalism of.
+
+Audubon.
+
+Avignon, Fabre at.
+suggested agronomic station at.
+
+Balaninus.
+
+Balzac.
+
+Bees.
+
+Belleudy, M.
+
+Bembex.
+
+Bergson.
+
+Bernard, Claude.
+
+Blanchard.
+
+Blue fly.
+
+Bombyx.
+
+Bordone.
+
+Bossuet.
+
+Bourdon.
+
+Buffon.
+
+Buprestis.
+
+Calendal.
+
+Calendar-beetle.
+
+Calosoma sycophanta.
+
+Candolle, de.
+
+Cannibalism.
+
+Cantharides.
+
+Cantharis, courtship of.
+
+Capricornis.
+
+Carabidae.
+
+Carpentras.
+fauna of.
+
+Caterpillars, poisonous.
+
+Centipedes.
+
+Cerceris.
+
+Chalcidia.
+
+Chalicodoma.
+
+Charrasse, Louis.
+
+Chermes.
+
+Cicada (Cigale).
+
+Cicadelina.
+
+Cicindela.
+
+Cione.
+
+Clathrix.
+
+Clythris.
+
+Clytus.
+
+Cleona opthalmica.
+
+Coincidence in life of parasites.
+
+Coleoptera of Avignon.
+
+Conchology, Fabre studies.
+
+Copris.
+
+Corsica.
+
+Courrier.
+
+Crickets, courtship of.
+
+Crioceris.
+
+Cuckoo.
+
+Curves, properties of.
+
+Darwin, Charles, Fabre an opponent of.
+praises Fabre.
+corresponds with Fabre.
+
+Darwin, Erasmus.
+
+Decticus.
+
+Delagrave, Charles.
+
+Dermestes.
+
+Devillario, Henry.
+
+Dorthesia.
+
+Dufour, Léon.
+
+Dumas.
+
+Dung-beetles.
+
+Duruy, Victor.
+sends for Fabre to attend Court.
+fall of.
+
+Dyticus.
+
+"Earth, The."
+
+Eclipse of sun.
+
+Education in France.
+
+Ephippigera.
+
+Epeïra.
+
+Emerson.
+
+Empusa.
+
+Ergatus.
+
+Eucera.
+
+Eumenes.
+
+Evil.
+
+Evolution.
+
+Fabre, Aglaë.
+
+Fabre, Antoine.
+
+Fabre, Antonia.
+
+Fabre, Antonin.
+
+Fabre, Émile.
+
+Fabre, Frédéric.
+
+Fabre, Henri.
+birthplace.
+childhood.
+boyhood.
+school days.
+a primary teacher.
+marriage and loss of first child.
+professor of physics at Ajaccio.
+professor at Avignon.
+takes up entomology.
+salary.
+poverty.
+as teacher.
+character.
+his pupils.
+goes to Court and is decorated.
+writes textbooks for schools.
+portraits of.
+meets J.S. Mill.
+denounced for subversive teaching.
+evicted.
+settles at Orange, money difficulties solved by Mill.
+breaks with the University.
+continues his series of textbooks.
+repays Mill money lent.
+dismissed from Requien Museum.
+researches concerning madder.
+leaves Orange.
+work at Sérignan.
+second marriage.
+his workshop.
+methods of work.
+attitude toward evolution.
+corresponds with Darwin.
+ideas as to origin of species.
+methods of work.
+compared with Réaumur.
+life at Sérignan.
+love of music.
+old age.
+poverty.
+jubilee celebrated.
+
+Fabre, Henri, of Avignon.
+
+Fabre, Jules.
+
+Fabre, Paul.
+
+Fabre, Mme (mother of Henri).
+
+Fabre, Mme (1st wife).
+
+Fabre, Mme (2nd wife).
+
+Fabre, Mme Antoine.
+
+Favier.
+
+Female education.
+
+Frog, bellringer.
+
+Gadfly.
+
+Gegner prize.
+
+Geometry, Fabre's love of.
+
+Geotrupes.
+
+Glow-worm.
+
+Goat caterpillar.
+
+Goethe.
+
+Grasshopper.
+
+Halictus.
+
+Harmas, the.
+
+Heat, takes place of food.
+
+Helix raspaillii.
+
+Hemerobius, curious garment of.
+
+Horace.
+
+Horn-beetle.
+
+Horus Apollo.
+
+Huber.
+
+Hugo, Victor.
+
+Hyper-metamorphism.
+
+Instinct.
+
+Intelligence, function of.
+
+Janin, Jules.
+
+Jullian.
+
+Jussieu, de.
+
+La Fontaine.
+
+Lamarck.
+
+Lapalud.
+
+Latreille.
+
+Larra.
+
+Leibnitz.
+
+Leucopsis.
+
+Libellula.
+
+Linnaeus.
+
+Locust.
+
+"Log, Story of the."
+
+Lycosa.
+
+Madder, Fabre's researches concerning.
+
+Magendie.
+
+Malaval.
+
+Mantis.
+
+Maquis, the Corsican.
+
+Marius.
+
+Mason-bee.
+
+Medicine, Fabre's inclination toward.
+
+Megachile.
+
+Meloë.
+
+Michelet.
+
+Mill, J.S.
+helps Fabre in difficulties.
+death of.
+
+Mill, Mrs.
+
+Millipedes.
+
+Mimicry.
+
+Mind, of animals.
+
+Minotaurus.
+
+Mistral.
+corresponds with Fabre.
+
+Mitscherlich.
+
+Montyon prize.
+
+Moquin-Tandon.
+
+Mushrooms, recipe for cooking.
+
+Napoleon III.
+
+Necrophorus.
+
+Number, properties of.
+poem.
+
+Odynerus.
+
+Oniticella.
+
+Onthophagus.
+
+Orange, Fabre at.
+
+Orchids, Fabre on.
+
+"Origin of Species."
+
+Orthoptera, primitive.
+
+Osmia, control of sex.
+courtship of.
+
+Pasteur.
+
+Peacock moth.
+
+Pelopaeus.
+
+Perrier, Ed.
+
+Philanthus.
+
+Phryganea.
+
+Pieris.
+
+"Plant, The."
+
+Pliny.
+
+Poems, Fabre's.
+
+Polygons, properties of.
+
+Pompilus.
+
+Potato.
+
+Processional caterpillar.
+
+Psyche.
+
+Rabelais.
+
+Raspail.
+
+Racine.
+
+Réaumur.
+compared with Fabre.
+
+Requien of Avignon.
+
+Requien Museum.
+
+Rhynchites.
+
+Ricard, Pierre, schoolmaster.
+
+Rose-beetle.
+
+Roumanille.
+
+Saint-Léons.
+
+Saprinidae.
+
+Sarcophagus.
+
+Scarabaeus sacer.
+
+Scolia.
+
+Scolopendra.
+
+Scorpion.
+
+Sérignan.
+Fabre settles at.
+evenings at.
+
+Sicard's portraits of Fabre.
+
+Silkworm moth.
+
+Sisyphus.
+
+Sitaris.
+
+"Sky, The."
+
+"Souvenirs entomologiques."
+
+Spaeriaceae.
+
+Sphex.
+
+Spiders, aeronautic.
+
+Sport, Fabre's love of.
+
+Staphylinus.
+
+Tachina.
+
+Tachinarius.
+
+Tachytes.
+
+Tarantula.
+
+Taylor, Harriett (Mrs. J.S. Mill).
+
+Taylor, Miss.
+
+Terebinth louse.
+
+Theophrastus.
+
+Thomisus.
+
+Tolstoy.
+
+Toussenel.
+
+Trox.
+
+Vanessa.
+
+"Vaucluse, Flora of the."
+
+Vaucluse, General Council of, grants Fabre a pension.
+
+Vayssières, M.
+
+Ventoux Alp.
+banquet on the.
+
+Vezins.
+
+Villard, Marie (Mme Henri Fabre).
+
+Virgil.
+
+Volucella.
+
+Wasps' nest in winter.
+
+Weevils, sloe.
+poplar.
+acorn and poplar.
+
+Woodland bug.
+
+Xylocopa.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Fabre, Poet of Science by Legros
+