y of captivating matters all abou

-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 h

ranth." 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

blem 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, an

ded 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 eart

ather 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

pen 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 botani

ts 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

e, and which the human eye, though it searches for hours, can scarcely find anywhere. The eyes of the Cerceris are like magnifying glasses, v

he 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 a

ore infallible than that of the physicists. "It foresees the tempests preparing afar, at enormous distances, almost i

ross 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 g

the remotest depths of the horizon to find their "sleeping beauties," drawn thereto by unknown odours, inappreciable by our senses, yet so penetrating tha

ring more things than are contained in all the

ew glimpses of day, which suddenly throw a singular light upon this black labyrinth, in which the least secret we can surprise "enters perhaps mor

simulates death, but in reality because this magnetic condition resembles that of death. (7/9.) Now the Odynerus, the Anthidium, the Eucera, the Ammophila, and all the hymenoptera which Fabre has observed sleeping at the fall of night, "suspended in space solely by the strength of their mandibles, their bodies tense, their limbs retracted, without exhaustion or collapse"; and the larva of the Empusa, "which for some ten months hang

ough 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

living persons. But without a profound knowledge of botany, who would hope to gr

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 exampl

ting-net of the Epe?ra. Whose "terribly scientific" combinations realize "the spiral logarithm of the geometers, so curious in its properties" (7/12.); a splendid obs

lf 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

enough to know

nite wall of the Unknowable." Above all we need an ardent and interested sympathy, for "we penetrate farther into the secret of things by the heart than by the reason," as Toussenel has said; and "it is only by intuition that we can know what life truly is," adds Bergson profoundly. (7/13.) Now Fabre loves these little peoples and knows how to make us love them. How tenderly he speaks of them; with what solicitude he observes them; with what love he follows the progress of their nurslings; the young grubs wriggling in his test-tubes, with doddering heads, are happy; and he himself is happy to see them "well-fed and shining with health." He pi

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

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

, 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 e

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, a

through all the admirable discoveries of Pasteur gi

r 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

tive faculty, mysterious and instinctive, which alone makes a great naturalist like Fa

ose who possess in a high degree that special vision, that gift, properly speaking poetic, which is kno

, that science which is based upon an abundant provision of facts, but in which good sense and a kind of divination pl

g 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 fir

accordingly. To?day he is convalescent; and his appetite has returned. I believe he is s

ions its contents of vitriol," right in the midst of the suddenly interrupted chemistry lesson, and when, thanks to hi

sm, a derivative of uric acid; he does not hesitate to perform painful experiments on himself in order to furnish the proof of his theory; and he explains thus the curious cases of dermatitis which are often observed among silkworm-breeders. (7/20.) He proves the uselessness of our meat-safes of metallic gauze, intended to preserve meat against contamination, and the efficacy of a me

wholly lacking, for the events of ephemeral lives occur at indet

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

es of the terebinth louse, whose proboscis "cunningly distils the venom which causes the leaf to swell and produc

his eyelids blinking. He will wake early to witness the fairy-like resurrection of the silkworm moth (7/24.); "in order not to lose the moment when the nymph bursts her swaddling-bands," or when the wing of the locust issues from its sheath and "commences to sprout"; no spectacle in the world is more wonderful than the sight of "this extraor

ly giant from Sirius, holding a magnifying glass to his eye, retaining his bre

ome 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

tness those precise notes of an eclipse of the sun, and of the e

across the sun through a pane of smoked glass, he att

dow of which is open...when the normal light returns they will come outdoors once more...The nightingale, which had so long importuned me by his interminable song, is silent at last (7/26.); the black-capped skylarks, which were warbling continually, are suddenly st

his amorous by-play, as though nothing unusual were happening...The nightingale and the skylark may be silent, oppre

ing 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 risin

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 t

ecessors, Réaumur and Huber, is often insuffic

n as experimentation, and we may say that Fabre was really the first t

d 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

omological 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 pot

the first volumes of which go back to the early youth of their owner; all the flora, both of the Midi a

s 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 specime

uch humour the abuse of classifications, has sometimes allowed himself to fall into the same fault. (7/28.) He has taken good care, however, not to neglect the systematic study of species; witness his "Flora of the Vaucluse" and that careful cata

ch 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

-pots or sweetmeat jars closed with a square of glass; these serve as observation or experimen

te art of experimentation; the art of making the insect speak, of putting questions to it, of forcing it to b

quipment, and has discovered less costly and less complex means of conducting his experiments; knowing t

great biologists. He has therefore been able to establish his beautiful observations in a manner so indisputable that those who com

afterwards refer to them and profit by them; the difficult thing is to interpret them, to dis

ill be instantly luminous to this searching understanding, it will suggest questions unforeseen, and will evoke,

to feed her larvae; why, before she carries her prey to her offspring, does she "outrage the dying insect," by s

ce 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 c

for which is simply maternity. The Philanthus knows, instinctively, without having learned it, that hone

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

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

f which is to receive the egg"; in which, under the cover of cocoons, murderous grubs devour slumbering nymphs; even the depths

abits; all that is incoherent, or ill observed, or misinterpreted;

he gives us laws, const

repeats and tests the anci

Darwin is mistaken; he points out how it

, 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

l of the Unknowable"! Then, with admirable frankness, tranquil and sincere, he simply owns that "he does not know," unlike so many others, whose u

ly instructive book might be written concerning the discrepancies and the weak points in our knowledge. If they were subjected to a sufficie

incessantly repeated down to the days of Xavier Raspail, and to us so fa

served facts remain irrefragable. With stones such as these, which are hewn by the great artisan, th

; a manual of mental discipline, a true "essay upon method," which should be read by every naturalist, an

ence 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

ed over wide areas of country. Some live only in determined spots, and not elsewhere, such as the famous Cerceri

ry 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 labou

ed the beginning of his fame, with the greater interest and profit in that Fabre ha

ad made of the nest of the Cerceris was transformed in his

ous facts have been well-known. They form perhaps the greatest

rs; but their larvae, which they will never behold, must h

ing provisioned the cell with selected game--cricket, spider, caterpillar,

he moment of its hatching to the end of its growth--that is to say, for a perio

ed 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,

mystery of which Fab

not at random into the body, which would involve the risk of death, but at determined points, exactly into

out its body; its members appear to be disarticulated, "as though a

ange prerogative of being able to live for a very long period without taking any nourishment, thank

ng 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

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." Wh

rding to the species of the hunter and the structure of the prey; thus the Cerceris, which attacks the coleoptera, and the Scolia, which preys

la, knows that its quarry "has two nervous centres which animate respectively the movemen

he knows, by an intuition that we cannot comprehend, that the locomotor innervatio

confounded, stabs the caterpillar in nine places, because the body of the victim with which it feeds its larva

ny 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

ain 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

s his original theme, and the unaccustomed wealth of this

er solitary, who retired to his province, in the depth of the Landes, was above all a d

ervation was explained simply as a kind of embalming, du

ore, were stated as

movement, by provoking contractions in their members under the influence of var

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,

rom that of the correlative life, sparing the former, and taking care not to wound the abdomen, which contains the ganglions of the gre

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 beauti