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diff --git a/3489-h/3489-h.htm b/3489-h/3489-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..27eb828 --- /dev/null +++ b/3489-h/3489-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9384 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"> +<title>Poet of Science | Project Gutenberg</title> + +<style type="text/css"> + +body {margin:10%; text-align:justify} +blockquote {font-size:14pt} +P {font-size:14pt} + +</style> +</head> +<body> +<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">"De fimo ad excelsa."<br> + J.-H. Fabre.</h2> +<h1 align="center"> </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 "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."</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‑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 "TRANSFORMISM."</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‑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 "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.</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 "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? +<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 "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.</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 "the fairies who turned pumpkins into coaches and lizards into +footmen" 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, "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." <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 +"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.</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, "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."</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 "the flat stone on which +he heard, for the first time, the mellow ringing of the bellringer frog." +<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 "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." <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 "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." <a href="#C1-6">(1/6.)</a> 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. <a href="#C1-7">(1/7.)</a></p> + +<p> +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."</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 "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. <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 "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 <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> +"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> +"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." +<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 +"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.</p> + +<p> +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."</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: "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." <a href="#C2-1">(2/1.)</a></p> + +<p> +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.</p> + +<p> +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.</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 "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. <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 "one of +the noblest; one of those best fitted for a noble spirit, and a lover of the +good." <a href="#C2-3">(2/3.)</a></p> + +<p> +Listen to the lesson which he gives his brother: </p> + +<p> +"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...</p> + +<p> +"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> +"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> +"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> +"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!" <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 "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.</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, "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." <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, "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." <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 "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."</p> + +<p> +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.</p> + +<p> +Once more he reinforced his advice by that excellent counsel which was always his +own lodestar: </p> + +<p> +"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." <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, "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." <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. "When we do not know where we shall +be tomorrow nothing can distract us." <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, "even if all the wrongs +were not on his side."</p> + +<p> +"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." <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> +"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!" +<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 "from one day to another, like a beggar."</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, +"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." <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 "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."</p> + +<p> +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." <a href="#C2-14">(2/14.)</a></p> + +<p> +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." <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 "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!" <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> +"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." <a href="#C3-1">(3/1.)</a></p> + +<p> +"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?"</p> + +<p> +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?"</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 "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> +"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."</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; "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." <a href="#C3-2">(3/2.)</a></p> + +<p> +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!"</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, "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." <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> +"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."</p> + +<p> +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." +<a href="#C3-6">(3/6.)</a> And the hours went by quickly, so quickly with "x," the plants +and the shells, that "literally there was no time to eat."</p> + +<p> +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." +<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, "irresistible, omnipotent, keystone of the +vault of the universe, rules at once Time and Space." He ascends, he +rushes forward, farther than the chariot--</p> + +<p> +"Beyond the Husbandman who ploughs in space<br> +And sows the suns in furrows of the skies."</p> +<p> +He ascends those tracks of flame, where on high<br> + "in those lists inane<br> +Wise regulator, Number holds the reins<br> + Of those indomitable steeds; <br> +Number has set a bit i' the foaming mouths<br> +Of these Leviathans, and with nervous hand<br> + 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." <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 +"tropes of rhetoric."</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 "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." <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 "up +in the clouds, mantle on back and numb with cold." <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 "an ingenious poet in his Montpellerian +dialect," <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, "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.</p> + +<p> +"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." <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> +"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." <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 "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.</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 "his beloved studies in natural history" <a href="#C4-2">(4/2.)</a>; +he feared to lose precious time in preparing himself for a competitive +examination; "to compromise by such labour, which he felt would be +fruitless" <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, "which might one day open the doors of a faculty for him, +far more easily than would a fellowship and its mathematics." <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 +"the patriarch of entomologists."</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 "representative" 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 "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." <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 "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.</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 "the fly" 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 +"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.</p> + +<p> +"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." <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 "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.</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 "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.</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 +"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.</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, "the brown violinist of the +clods."</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>, "an honour of which, needless to say, he had never +dreamed." <a href="#C4-12">(4/12.)</a> Darwin, in his celebrated work on the "Origin of +Species," which appeared precisely at this moment, speaks of Fabre +somewhere as "the inimitable observer." <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, "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. +<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, "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." <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, "at the ineffable +festival of the awakening of life in the spring." <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>, +"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 "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.</p> + +<p> +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" <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 "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!'"</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 "those abominable private lessons" +<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 +"relic" 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 "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.</p> + +<p> +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--</p> + +<p> + "the bark<br> +Tender and juicy, of the bough,"</p> + +<p>on which it is quickly supplanted by</p> + +<p> +"Fly, drone, wasp, beetle too with hornèd head" <a href="#C4-24">(4/24.)</a>, </p> + +<p> +who</p> + +<p> +"Now lick their honey'd lips, and feed at leisure,"</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 "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.</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 "Agricultural Chemistry," 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 "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.</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 "killed the life."</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, "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"?</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> +"...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!" <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: "the most +precious friendship of his life" 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 "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.</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, "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." +<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, "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.</p> + +<p> +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.</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 "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.</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 "work which one does not understand disgusts one." +<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 "The Sky" <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 "Earth" <a href="#C5-3">(5/3.)</a>; 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."</p> + +<p> +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." <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 "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." <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 "The Plant" and "The Story of the +Log," 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 "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.</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 "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."</p> + +<p> +"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> +"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..."</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, "expelling a +slender thread of water in which the sunlight flickers," will introduce us +to the true syphon of physics.</p> + +<p> +"What amusing and useful lessons" a well-balanced scheme of education might +extract from this "academy of childish ingenuity"! <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 "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."</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, "where exact science should shed its light +upon a host of facts relating to domestic economy" <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 "lonely, abandoned, +struggling against misfortune; and before one can philosophize one has to +live." <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; "a sweeper-boy would have been treated +with as much ceremony." <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, "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!</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? +"Would he not suffer a thousand annoyances from pretentious +nobodies?" for as things were, all ideas of again "enregimenting" +himself "filled him with horror." <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 "Souvenirs +entomologiques." (A selection of which forms "Social Life in the +Insect World" (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, "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.</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, +"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.</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 "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.</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 +"Harmas," the open-air observatory, "the laboratory of living +entomology" <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 "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.</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 "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: </p> + +<p> +"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." <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 "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.</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 "Eden."</p> + +<p> +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.</p> + +<p> +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.</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 "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 <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> +"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." <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. "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." <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 "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.</p> + +<p> +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.</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 "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." <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? "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. <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, "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.</p> + +<p> +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. <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? "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." <a href="#C7-4">(7/4.)</a></p> + +<p> +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. <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 "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. +<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, "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." <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 "feigns death," 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, +"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? <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 "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.</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 "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." <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 "terribly scientific" combinations +realize "the spiral logarithm of the geometers, so curious in its +properties" <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, "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. <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 "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!" <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 "to the +delights of liberty."</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. +"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"?</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: "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.</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, "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.</p> + +<p> +"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.'" <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, "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. <a href="#C7-18">(7/18.)</a></p> + +<p> +While "all physicians should bow before the facts which he excels in +discovering" <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, +"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. <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 "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.</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 +"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."</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>; "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. +<a href="#C7-25">(7/25.)</a></p> + +<p> +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."</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 +"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.</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> +"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> +"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?" <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 "furnishes only a glimpse of matters."</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, "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.</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 "Flora of the +Vaucluse" and that careful catalogue of Avignon which he has not disdained +to republish. <a href="#C7-29">(7/29.)</a> The truth is that "if we do not know their names the +knowledge of the things escapes us" <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, "after a germination +more wonderful than that of the acorn which makes the oak."</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 +"these tiny living machines" 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 "the only method which can throw any light upon the nature +of instincts."</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 "trivial, peasant-made +articles."</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 "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?</p> + +<p> +"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."</p> + +<p> +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. <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, "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." <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 +"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.</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 "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.</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 "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.</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 "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?"</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, "as though all the springs were +broken"; 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; "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.</p> + + +<p> +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!</p> + +<p> +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.</p> + +<p> +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." <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, "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." <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, "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"?</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 +"surgeon."</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 "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.</p> + +<h2><a name="CHAP08">CHAPTER 8. THE MIRACLE OF INSTINCT.</a></h2> + +<p> +"The Spirit Bloweth Whither it Listeth."</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 "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?</p> + +<p> +Put to the question by the malice of the operator, the "transcendent" +anatomist trips over a mere trifle, and the slightest novelty confounds her.</p> + +<p> +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? <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 "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." <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> +"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."</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> +"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.</p> + +<p> +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." <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. "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." <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 "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." <a href="#C8-7">(8/7.)</a></p> + +<p> +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.</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 "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." <a href="#C8-8">(8/8.)</a></p> + +<p> +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." <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 "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.</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> +"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."</p> + +<p> +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."</p> + +<p> +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." <a href="#C8-10">(8/10.)</a></p> + +<p> +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."</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 "of a +regularity so perfect that they recall exactly the bursting of the pyxidium +when the seed is distributed." <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 "vague discrimination."</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. "The weevil knows +nothing but its peas and beans, the golden Rhynchites only the sloe, and the +Balaninus only the nut or acorn."</p> + +<p> +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.</p> + +<p> +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."</p> + +<p> +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." +<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 "that which is most fitting"; they learn, +they compare; may we not also say that they judge?</p> + +<p> +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?</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 "introduces +in her silk-work a rampart of compressed earth to protect her eggs from the +probe of the Ichneumon"?</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 "which +she throws open with a push of the leg, and carefully bolts behind her on +returning by means of a little silk"? <a href="#C8-13">(8/13.)</a></p> + +<p> +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." <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 "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. <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, "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.</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 "she lays at will a male or a female egg, according to the +conditions of space."</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, "distinct idea of the invisible"? +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, +"Machiavellic ruses and unheard-of stratagems."</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. +"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." <a href="#C8-18">(8/18.)</a></p> + +<p> +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! <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, "when we know how subtle and +illusive is this Proteus, and that there are not two things only, but a +thousand dissimilar things" <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 "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."</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. "The same tools are equally good for any purpose. +Talent alone is able to adapt them to manifold ends."</p> + +<p> +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." <a href="#C8-21">(8/21.)</a></p> + +<p> +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."</p> + +<p> +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."</p> + +<p> +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."</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; "the exclusive portion of the one is the oak and of +the other the hawthorn or the cherry-laurel."</p> + +<p> +"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?"</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> +"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."</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 "TRANSFORMISM."</a></h2> + +<p> +"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?"</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 "from the urn of hazard."</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 "we do not know."</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 "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."</p> + +<p> +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.</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. "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."</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, "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." <a href="#C9-1">(9/1.)</a></p> + +<p> +What an astonishing conclusion! What a disconcerting and unexpected reply to the +"theories in vogue"!</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 +"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." <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> +"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."</p> + +<p> +The posterior limbs of the Geotrupes stercorarius, "perfectly developed in the +adult, are atrophied in the larvae, reduced to mere specks."</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, +"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.</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 "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." <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 "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?</p> + +<p> +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.</p> + +<p> +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? <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 "when the hymenopteron breaks its cocoon, where are its masters! Its +predecessors have long ago disappeared. How then can it receive education by +example?"</p> + +<p> +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 <a href="#C9-8">(9/8.)</a>; 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." <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 "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." <a href="#C9-10">(9/10.)</a> 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." <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. "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.</p> + +<p> +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.</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 "the vast and luminous balloon of transformism (evolution), +in order to empty it and expose it in all its inanity." <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 "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.</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> +"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> +"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." <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> +"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."</p> + +<p> +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." <a href="#C9-15">(9/15.)</a></p> + +<p> +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.</p> + +<p> +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."</p> + +<p> +The nymph of the Oniticella also decks itself in "a temporary horn, which +departs when it emerges."</p> + +<p> +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, <b><i>and if this were so the present +would teach us what the future is to be</i></b>." <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 "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.</p> + + +<p> +Species are therefore born as a whole, each at the same time, <b><i>at the same moment</i></b>, +"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."</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 "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?"</p> + +<p> +Fabre sees no other source than "the sun."</p> + +<p> +"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."</p> + +<p> +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."</p> + +<p> +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."</p> + +<p> +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!"</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; "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.</p> + +<p> +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." +<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, +"on which the young must themselves find food and shelter."</p> + +<p> +"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> +"The eggs of the Locustidae are implanted in the earth like seeds and germinate like +grain."</p> + +<p> +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?</p> + +<p> +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.</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, "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."</p> + + +<p> +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."</p> + +<p> +With them, as with all, life can only be a perpetual illusion.</p> + +<p> +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.</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 +"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."</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> +"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?"</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 "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"? <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 "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.</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."</p> + +<p> +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."</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 "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."</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 "remnants of life."</p> + +<p> +Each has its providential hygienic function.</p> + +<p> +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.</p> + +<p> +The Onthophagi purify the soil, "dividing all filth into tiny crumbs, ridding +the earth of its defilements."</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 "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."</p> + +<p> +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."</p> + +<p> +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."</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, "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.</p> + +<p> +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. <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, "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."</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." <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, "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.</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> +"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."</p> + +<p> +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." <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 +"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." <a href="#C11-3">(11/3.)</a></p> + +<p> +The female scorpion devours the male; "all is gone but the tail!"</p> + +<p> +The female Spider delights in the flesh of her lover.</p> + +<p> +The cricket also devours a small portion of her "debonair" admirer.</p> + +<p> +The Ephippigera "excavates the stomach of her companion and eats him."</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 "ferocious +spectre, never wearied of embraces, munching the brains of its spouse at the +very moment of surrendering her flanks to him." <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 "remnants of atavism," 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, "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.</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, +"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."</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, "although He is veiled from our imperfect +senses" <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, +"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.</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 "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.</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, "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." <a href="#C11-9">(11/9.)</a> 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.</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? +"For the theorem lucidity suffices; truth issues naked from the bottom of +a well."</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. "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.</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 "using +his marrow-bones." <a href="#C12-1">(12/1.)</a> 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.</p> + +<p> +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.</p> + +<p> +Then he would begin to write, "his pen dipped not in ink only" 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 "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! <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 "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.</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 "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."</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 +"Souvenirs" 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 +"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." <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> +"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." +<a href="#C12-5">(12/5.)</a></p> + +<p> +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." <a href="#C12-6">(12/6.)</a></p> + +<p> +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." <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, "which we might think +were stolen from the cupboard of a fairy."</p> + +<p> +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.</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, "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." <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> +"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.</p> + +<p> +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."</p> + + +<p> +In "that hideous lout" the Scorpion he shows us a rough epitome of the +shapeless head, the truncated face of the spider.</p> + +<p> +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!"</p> + +<p> +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.</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 "inspired by an aesthetic which nothing escapes, achieve the +beautiful" <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, "as though carved from a +block of crystal, with its wide snout and its enormous horns like those of the +Aurochs"? <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 +"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."</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 "stupendous mitre": 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 +"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.</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 "a prodigious travail."</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 "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."</p> + +<p> +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."</p> + +<p> +What marvellous inventions, what machinery, what incredible contrivances, "in +order that a tiny fly can emerge from under ground"!</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."</p> + +<p> +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. <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. "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"!</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, "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, </p> + +<p> +"Half drunken with her joy, she feasts<br> +In a hail of fire"; </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 "to celebrate such felicity, so well +earned and so ephemeral"! <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 "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.</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 +"love is the sole joy of the animal," and "to love is to +die."</p> + +<p> +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.</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> +"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 <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 "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."</p> + +<p> +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." <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, "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."</p> + +<p> +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. +<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, "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...!" <a href="#C13-7">(13/7.)</a></p> + +<p> +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." +<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 "the intestine rules the world."</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. "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.</p> + +<p> +To hunger and maternity let us also add love, which "rules the world by +conflict."</p> + +<p> +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."</p> + +<p> +"Each has its ruses of war, its methods of attack, its methods of killing."</p> + + +<p> +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!</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: "true practitioners in crime."</p> + +<p> +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."</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 "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."</p> + +<p> +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."</p> + +<p> +"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." <a href="#C13-9">(13/9.)</a></p> + +<p> +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."</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 "crunches the heads +of grasshoppers in his mandibles."</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, +"as the Red Indian ties about his loins the tresses of his scalped +enemies."</p> + +<p> +Caterpillars are surrounded by the implacable voracity of the Carabidae: </p> + + +<p> +"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."</p> + +<p> +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. <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, "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." <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 "anaethetizes the +snail," 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 "the ear of +the mind" seems to hear</p> + +<p> +"A tiger's rage and cries as of a lion<br> +Roaring remotely through this pigmy world."</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 "the Homer of the insects," 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, "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.</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 "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.</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 "tabernacle" in +which a divine comedy is enacted.</p> + +<p> +The ant, that "ardent filibuster, comes first, and commences to dissect it +piecemeal."</p> + +<p> +The Necrophori "exhaling the odour of musk, and bearing red pompons at the end +of their antennae," are "transcendent alchemists."</p> + +<p> +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."</p> + +<p> +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.</p> + +<p> +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!</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 "that most nearly concerns us," or +to point out "all the singular conclusions" which may be drawn +therefrom. <a href="#C14-2">(14/2.)</a></p> + +<p> +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.</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 "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.</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 "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 +"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."</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 +"the insects, the habits of life, the labours, the struggles and the +propagation of this little world, which agriculture and philosophy should +closely consider"? <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 "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."</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 "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.</p> + +<p> +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.</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 "even the humblest species either has no +history, or the little that has been written concerning it calls for serious +revision" <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, "has its habits, its tricks of cunning, +its customs, its industries, its art, its architecture, its different +instincts, and its individual genius."</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, "face pale and features drawn." <a href="#C15-1">(15/1.)</a></p> + +<p> +Now he is "at leisure: the half-day is over" <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 "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. <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>, "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.</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 "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.</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 "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."</p> + +<p>"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."</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 "fertile ignorance." <a href="#C15-12">(15/12.)</a></p> + +<p> +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.</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 "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.</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> +"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." <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 "brigand's trick" 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> +"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." <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 "twenty thousand renounce maternity and devote themselves to +celibacy to raise the prodigious family of a single mother."</p> + +<p> +Among the ants, the wasps, the termites "thousands and thousands remain +incomplete and become humble auxiliaries of a few who are sexually +gifted."</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. "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.</p> + +<p> +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." <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, "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.</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 "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.</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 "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.</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 +"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 <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. +"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." <a href="#C16-1">(16/1.)</a></p> + +<p> +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." <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> +"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." <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. "Away with repose! For him who would spend his life properly there +is nothing like work--so long as the machine will operate."</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 "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."</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 +"let herself be crushed under the feet of the passer-by rather than +abandon her task."</p> + +<p> +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."</p> + +<p> +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."</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> +"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." <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 "Souvenirs": +"Laboremus."</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 "into a new and barely suspected region, which is <b><i>almost +absurd</i></b>." <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, "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?</p> + +<p> +"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." <a href="#C16-7">(16/7.)</a></p> + +<p> +But here are other miracles: </p> + +<p> +"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." <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> +"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." <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 "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.</p> + +<p> +"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." <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 "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?</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 "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. <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, "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." <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 +"so great a mind so little known"; 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 "whose first glances are sweeter +than the fires of dawn," 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> +"I have never thought of profiting by my humble fungoid water-colours...Fate will +perhaps decide otherwise.</p> + +<p> +"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." <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, +"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 <b><i>his excessive +modesty</i></b>." <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. "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."</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, "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.</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 +"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.</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, "the sole moments of happiness in his life."</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 "Virgil of the insects" +<a href="#C16-21">(16/21.)</a>, to the "good magician who knew the language of the myriad little +creatures of the fields." <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 "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.</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 +"Souvenirs entomologiques" 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 "kneel +in the grass."</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 "Souvenirs."</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 "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.</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> +"It is a country that has very little charm." To his brother, 18th +August, 1846.</p> + +<p> +<a name="C1-2">1/2.</a><br> +"Practicien, homme d'affaires ou de chicane": roughly, +"practitioner, man of business or law": so his father is described in +his birth certificate.</p> + +<p> +<a name="C1-3">1/3.</a><br> +"Souvenirs entomologiques," 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. "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."</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> +"Souvenirs entomologiques," 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> +"Souvenirs entomologiques," 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> +"Souvenirs entomologiques," 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> +"Souvenirs entomologiques," 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> +"I have set to work upon a conchology of Corsica, which I hope soon to +publish."</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> +"Souvenirs entomologiques," 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 "Souvenirs entomologiques," 10th series, +chapter 21.</p> + +<p> +<a name="C3-11">3/11.</a><br> +Fr. Mistral, "Mémoires."</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> +"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."</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> +"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."</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.--"Annales de Sc. natur.," 4th series, 1855.</p> + +<p> +<a name="C4-6">4/6.</a><br> +"Souvenirs entomologiques," 10th series, chapter 22.</p> + +<p> +<a name="C4-7">4/7.</a><br> +"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.)</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> +"The Origin of Species," 1857 (?), translated by Barbier, page 15.</p> + +<p> +<a name="C4-14">4/14.</a><br> +"Souvenirs entomologiques," 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‑day at Frontignan. Vayssières, professor of Zoology in the +faculty of sciences at Marseilles.</p> + +<p> +<a name="C4-18">4/18.</a><br> +"Souvenirs entomologiques," 1st series, chapter 13.</p> + +<p> +<a name="C4-19">4/19.</a><br> +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.</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> +"Souvenirs entomologiques" 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> +"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.</p> + +<p> +<a name="C4-23">4/23.</a><br> +"Souvenirs entomologiques" 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, "Autobiography," 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 "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.</p> + +<p> +NOTES TO CHAPTER 5.</p> + +<p> +<a name="C5-1">5/1.</a><br> +"Chimie agricole."</p> + +<p> +<a name="C5-2">5/2.</a><br> +"Le Ciel." Lectures et Leçons pour tous.</p> + +<p> +<a name="C5-3">5/3.</a><br> +"La Terre." Lectures et Leçons pour tous.</p> + +<p> +<a name="C5-4">5/4.</a><br> +"La Chimie de l'oncle Paul." Lectures courantes pour toutes les +écoles.</p> + +<p> +<a name="C5-5">5/5.</a><br> +"Histoire de la bûche."</p> + +<p> +<a name="C5-6">5/6.</a><br> +"Les jouets. Le Toton" (manuscript).</p> + + +<p> +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.</p> + +<p> +<a name="C5-7">5/7.</a><br> +"The chemistry course is a great success at home." 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> +"The household; discussions as to domestic economy for use in girls' schools."</p> + +<p> +<a name="C5-9">5/9.</a><br> +"Souvenirs entomologiques," 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> +"Souvenirs entomologiques," 2nd series, chapter 1. +"L'Harmas."</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> +"Souvenirs entomologiques," 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> +"Souvenirs entomologiques," 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, "The Bee."</p> + +<p> +<a name="C7-9">7/9.</a><br> +"Souvenirs entomologiques," 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, "l'Evolution créatrice."</p> + + +<p> +<a name="C7-14">7/14.</a><br> +"Souvenirs entomologiques," 10th series, chapter 6.</p> + +<p> +<a name="C7-15">7/15.</a><br> +"Les Serviteurs" and "Les Auxiliaires."</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> +"Souvenirs entomologiques," 10th series, chapter 21.</p> + +<p> +<a name="C7-19">7/19.</a><br> +Ed. Perrier. Private letter, 27th October, 1909.</p> + +<p> +"He is the finest of all our observers, and all scientists should bow to the facts +which he excels in discovering."</p> + +<p> +<a name="C7-20">7/20.</a><br> +"Souvenirs entomologiques," 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> +"Souvenirs entomologiques," 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. "Insectes coléoptères observes aux environs +d'Avignon." 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> +"Souvenirs entomologiques," 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> +"Jenner's Legend of the isolation of the young Cuckoo in the nest," +by Xavier Raspail, "Bull. de la Soc. Zool. de France," 1903.</p> + +<p> +<a name="C7-35">7/35.</a><br> +"Souvenirs entomologiques" 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> +"Souvenirs entomologiques" 1st series, chapter 2.</p> + +<p> +<a name="C8-2">8/2.</a><br> +Bergson, "l'Evolution créatrice."</p> + +<p> +<a name="C8-3">8/3.</a><br> +"Souvenirs entomologiques," 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> +"Souvenirs entomologiques," 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> + "Mireille," 3rd canto.</p> + +<h3> NOTES TO CHAPTER 9.</h3> + +<p> +<a name="C9-1">9/1.</a><br> +"Souvenirs entomologiques," 8th series, chapter 21.</p> + +<p> +<a name="C9-2">9/2.</a><br> +"Les Ravageurs," chapter 34, agriculture.</p> + +<p> +<a name="C9-3">9/3.</a><br> +"Souvenirs entomologiques," 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, "De Natura rerum."</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: "l'Intelligence des +animaux."</p> + +<p> +<a name="C9-10">9/10.</a><br> +"Souvenirs entomologiques," 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> +"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.)</p> + +<p> +"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.)</p> + +<p> +<a name="C9-15">9/15.</a><br> +"Souvenirs entomologiques," 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> +"Souvenirs entomologiques," 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> +"Souvenirs entomologiques," 8th series, chapter 17.</p> + +<p> +<a name="C10-6">10/6.</a><br> +"Les Ravageurs."</p> + +<p> +<a name="C10-7">10/7.</a><br> +"Souvenirs entomologiques," 10th series, chapter 18, and +"Merveilles de l'instinct: la Chenille du chou."</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> +"Souvenirs entomologiques," 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: "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.")</p> + +<p> +<a name="C11-6">11/6.</a><br> +The "Livre d'histoires" and "Chimie agricole."</p> + +<p> +<a name="C11-7">11/7.</a><br> +"Oubreto Provençalo. La Bise."</p> + +<p> +<a name="C11-8">11/8.</a><br> +Id., "Le Semeur."</p> + +<p> <a name="C11-9">11/9.</a><br> + Id., "Le Crapaud."</p> + +<h3> NOTES TO CHAPTER 12.</h3> + +<p> +<a name="C12-1">12/1.</a><br> +"Oubreto Provençalo. Le Maréchal."</p> + +<p> +<a name="C12-2">12/2.</a><br> +"Oubreto Provençalo."</p> + +<p> +<a name="C12-3">12/3.</a><br> +In this connection see the admirable passage in Sainte-Beuve's +"Port-Royal," Book 2, chapter 14.</p> + +<p> +<a name="C12-4">12/4.</a><br> +"Souvenirs entomologiques," 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> +"Souvenirs entomologiques," 10th series, chapter 17.</p> + +<p> +<a name="C13-2">13/2.</a><br> +Id., 9th series, chapter 4, "l'Exode des arignées" (the Exodus of the +Spiders), and chapter 5, "l'Araignée crabe" (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> +"Oubreto. Le Grillon," and unpublished verses.</p> + +<p> +<a name="C13-6">13/6.</a><br> +"Souvenirs entomologiques," 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> +"Les Merveilles de l'instinct: le Ver luisant" (Marvels of Instinct: +the Glow-worm).</p> + +<p> +<a name="C13-9">13/9.</a><br> +"Souvenirs entomologiques," 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 "Recueils de l'Acad.des +sciences," volume 157 H, page 201, and Preface to the "Lettres +inédites de Réaumur," by G. Musset.</p> + +<p> +<a name="C14-2">14/2.</a><br> +"Mémoires," 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, "Le Frigorifique" (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: "Journal de sa vie."</p> + +<p> +Souvenirs and impressions of travel in the Pyrenees to Gavarnie, Héas, the +"Montagnes maudites," 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> +"Souvenirs entomologiques" 2nd series, chapter 1: +"L'Harmas."</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 "Le Bassin du +Rhône," March, 1911.</p> + +<p> +<a name="C15-2">15/2.</a><br> +"Oubreto. Le Crapaud."</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> +"Les Serviteurs. Le Canard."</p> + +<p> +<a name="C15-6">15/6.</a><br> +"Souvenirs entomologiques," 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> +"Souvenirs entomologiques," 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> +"Souvenirs entomologiques," 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 +"Souvenirs" 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> +"Chimie agricole."</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: "His books have been my +delight during a very long convalescence."</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> +"Les 4 Chemins, </p> + +<p> +"Grasse (Alpes-Maritimes).</p> + +<p> +"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."</p> + +<p> +<a name="C16-17">16/17.</a><br> +J. Belleudy, prefect of Vaucluse. Private letter, 29th September, 1909.</p> + +<p> +"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!"</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‑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> +"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."</p> + +<p> +Romain Rolland. Private letter, 7th January, 1910.</p> + +<p> +"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."</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> +"Agricultural Chemistry."</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> + --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> + --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> + --praises Fabre.<br> + --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> + --sends for Fabre to attend Court.<br> + --fall of.<br> + +<p> +Dyticus.</p> +<p> +"Earth, The."</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> + --birthplace.<br> + --childhood.<br> + --boyhood.<br> + --school days.<br> + --a primary teacher.<br> + --marriage and loss of first child.<br> + --professor of physics at Ajaccio.<br> + --professor at Avignon.<br> + --takes up entomology.<br> + --salary.<br> + --poverty.<br> + --as teacher.<br> + --character.<br> + --his pupils.<br> + --goes to Court and is decorated.<br> + --writes textbooks for schools.<br> + --portraits of.<br> + --meets J.S. Mill.<br> + --denounced for subversive teaching.<br> + --evicted.<br> + --settles at Orange, money difficulties solved by Mill.<br> + --breaks with the University.<br> + --continues his series of textbooks.<br> + --repays Mill money lent.<br> + --dismissed from Requien Museum.<br> + --researches concerning madder.<br> + --leaves Orange.<br> + --work at Sérignan.<br> + --second marriage.<br> + --his workshop.<br> + --methods of work.<br> + --attitude toward evolution.<br> + --corresponds with Darwin.<br> + --ideas as to origin of species.<br> + --methods of work.<br> + --compared with Réaumur.<br> + --life at Sérignan.<br> + --love of music.<br> + --old age.<br> + --poverty.<br> + --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> +"Log, Story of the."</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> + --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> + --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> + --poem.</p> +<p> +Odynerus.</p> +<p> +Oniticella.</p> +<p> +Onthophagus.</p> +<p> +Orange, Fabre at.</p> + +<p> +Orchids, Fabre on.</p> + +<p> +"Origin of Species."</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> +"Plant, The."</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> + --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> +"Sky, The."</p> + +<p> +"Souvenirs entomologiques."</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> +"Vaucluse, Flora of the."</p> + +<p> +Vaucluse, General Council of, grants Fabre a pension.</p> + +<p> +Vayssières, M.</p> + +<p> +Ventoux Alp.<br> + --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> + --poplar.<br> + --acorn and poplar.<br> + +<p> +Woodland bug.</p> + +<p> +Xylocopa. +</p> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 3489 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + + |