fabre, poet of science-第42节

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！



had　been　somewhat　extravagant。



While　his　position　as　teacher　deteriorated　his　〃Souvenirs〃　brought　him

little　more　than　a　nominal　profit；　for　to　most　people　he　was　still

completely　unknown　among　the　potentates　who　monopolize　the　attention　of　the

crowd。



〃Work　such　as　a　Réaumur　might　be　proud　of　will　leave　me　a　beggar；　that　goes

without　saying；　but　at　least　I　shall　have　left　my　grain　of　sand。　I　would

long　ago　have　given　up　in　despair；　had　I　not；　to　give　me　courage；　the

continual　research　after　truth　in　the　little　world　whose　historian　I　have

become。　I　am　hoarding　ideas；　and　I　make　shift　to　live　as　I　can。〃　（16/11。）



Yet　his　reputation　had　long　ago　crossed　the　frontiers　of　his　country。　He

had　been　a　corresponding　member　of　the　Institute　of　France　since　1887；　and

a　Petit　d'Ormoy　prizeman。　（16/12。）　He　was　a　member　of　the　most　celebrated

foreign　academies；　and　the　entomological　societies　of　the　chief　capitals　of

Europe；　but　his　fame　had　not　passed　the　walls　of　these　academies　and　the

narrow　boundaries　of　the　little　world　of　professional　biologists　and

philosophers。



Even　in　these　circles；　where　he　was　almost　exclusively　read　and

appreciated；　he　was　little　known；　and　although　he　was　much　admired；

although　he　was　readily　given　credit　for　his　admirable　talent　and

exceptional　knowledge；　his　readers　were　far　from　realizing　the　real　powers

of　this　world　of　life　which　he　has　called　into　being。　His　books　are　of

those　whose　fertilizing　virtues　remain　long　hidden；　to　shine　only　at　a

distance；　when　much　frothy　writing；　that　has　made　a　sudden　noise　in　its

time；　has　fallen　into　oblivion。



Every　two　or　three　years；　after　much　fond　polishing；　he　would　open　the　door

to　yet　another　volume　which　was　ready　to　go　forth；　adding　astonishing

chapters　of　the　history　of　insects；　wonderful　fragments　of　animal

psychology；　but　always　obtaining　only　the　same　circumscribed　success；　that

is；　exciting　no　public　curiosity；　and　remaining　unperceived　in　the　midst　of

general　indifference。



His　books　interested　only　a　select　class；　who；　it　is　true；　welcomed　them

eagerly；　and　read　them　with　wonder　and　delight。　If　they　excited　the

curiosity　of　a　few　philosophers；　of　scientists　and　inquirers；　and　here　and

there　determined　a　vocation；　still　more；　perhaps；　did　they　charm　writers

and　poets；　they　consoled　Rostand　at　the　end　of　a　serious　illness；　their

virtue；　in　some　sort　healing；　procuring　him　both　moral　repose　and　a

delightful　relaxation。　（16/13。）　For　all　these；　we　may　say；　he　has　been　one

of　those　ten　or　twelve　authors　whom　one　would　wish　to　take　with　one　into　a

long　exile；　were　they　reduced　to　choosing　no　more　before　leaving

civilization　for　ever。



Yet　we　must　admit　that　this　work　has　certain　undeniable　faults。　The　title；

in　the　first　place；　has　nothing　alluring　about　it；　and　is　calculated　to

deter　rather　than　to　attract　purchasers；　by　evoking　vague　ideas　of

repulsive　studies；　too　arduous　or　too　special。



People　have　no　idea　of　the　wonderful　fairyland　concealed　by　this　unpopular

title；　no　conception　that　these　records　are　intended；　not　merely　for　the

scientist　pure　and　simple；　but　in　reality　for　every　one。



Moreover；　the　first　few　volumes　were　in　no　way　seductive。　They　boasted　not

the　most　elementary　drawings　to　help　the　reader；　not　the　slightest　woodcut

to　give　a　direct　idea　of　the　insects　described；　of　their　shape；　aspect；　or

physiognomy；　and　a　simple　sketch；　however　poor；　is　often　worth　more　than

long　and　laborious　descriptions。　The　first　volumes　especially；　printed

economically；　at　the　least　possible　expense；　were　not　outwardly　attractive。



It　is　also　true　that　he　had　never　founded　any　great　hopes　on　the　sale　of

such　works。



Very　few　people　are　really　interested　in　the　lower　animals；　and　Fabre　has

been　reproached　with　wasting　his　time　over　〃childish　histories；　unworthy　of

serious　attention　and　unlikely　to　make　money；〃　of　wasting　in　frivolous

occupations　the　time　which　is　passing　so　quickly　and　can　never　return。　And

why　should　he　have　still　further　wasted　so　many　precious　hours　in　executing

minute　drawings　whose　reproduction　would　have　involved　an　expenditure　which

his　publisher　would　not　dare　to　venture　upon；　and　which　he　himself　could

not　afford？



For　this　universal　inquirer　was　well　fitted　for　such　a　task；　and　all　these

creatures　which　he　had　depicted　he　is　capable　of　representing　with　brush

and　pencil　as　faithfully　as　with　his　pen。　He　had　it　in　him　to　be　not　only　a

writer；　but　an　excellent　draughtsman；　and　even　a　great　painter。　He　has

reproduced　in　water…colour；　with　loving　care；　the　decorations　of　the

specimens　of　prehistoric　pottery　which　his　excavations　have　revealed；　and

which　he　has　endeavoured　to　reconstruct；　with　all　the　science　of　an

archaeologist。　He　has　displayed　the　same　skill　in　water…colour　in　that

astonishing　iconography；　in　which　he　has　detailed；　with　marvellous

accuracy；　all　the　peculiarities　of　the　mycological　flora　of　the　olive…

growing　districts。　（16/14。）



As　for　those　〃paltry　figures〃　insufficient　or　flagrantly　incorrect　in

drawing；　with　which　many　people　are　satisfied；　he　regards　them　as

〃intolerable〃　in　his　own　books；　and　as　absolutely　contradicting　the

rigorous　accuracy　of　his　text。　（16/15。）



Of　late　years　photography　and　the　skill　of　his　son　Paul　have　supplied　this

deficiency。　He　taught　his　son　to　fix　the　insects　on　the　sensitive　plate　in

their　true　attitudes；　in　the　reality　of　their　most　instantaneous　gestures。

However　valuable　such　documents　may　be；　how　much　we　should　prefer　fine

drawings；　giving　relief　not　only　to　forms　and　colours；　but　also　to　the　most

characteristic　features　and　the　whole　living　physiognomy　of　the　creature！

This　is　the　function　of　art；　but　the　great　artist　that　was　in　Fabre　was

capable　in　this　domain　of　rivalling　the　magical　talent　of　an　Audubon。



Such　work　was　relinquished；　although　so　many　romances　of　nature；　so　much

dishonest　patch…work；　won　the　applause　due　to　success。



Fabre　fell　more　and　more　into　a　state　bordering　on　indigence；　and　finally

he　was　quite　forgotten。　An　opponent　of　evolution；　he　was　out　of　the

fashion。　The　encyclopaedias　barely　mentioned　him。　Lamarckians　and

Darwinians；　who　still　made　so　much　noise　in　the　world；　ignored　him；　and　no

one　came　now　to　open　the　gate　behind　which　was　ageing；　in　obscurity　and

deserted；　〃one　of　the　loftiest　and　purest　geniuses　which　the　civilized

world　at　that　moment　possessed；　one　of　the　most　learned　naturalists　and　one

of　the　most　marvellous　of　poets　in　the　modern　and　truly　legitimate　sense　of

the　word。〃　（16/16。）



In　the　department　of　Vaucluse；　where　he　lived　for　more　than　sixty　years；　in

Avignon　itself；　where　he　had　taught　for　twenty　years；　the　prefect　Belleudy；

who　had　succeeded　in　approaching　him；　was　astonished　and　distressed　to　find

〃so　great　a　mind　so　little　known〃；　for　even　those　about　him　scarcely　knew

his　name。　（16/17。）



But　what　matter！　The　hermit　of　Sérignan　was　not　discouraged；　he　was

disturbed　only　by　the　failure　of　his　strength；　and　the　fear　that　he　could

not　much　longer　exercise　that　divine　faculty　which　had　always　consoled　him

for　all　his　sorrows　and　his　disappointments。　He　could　scarcely　drag　his

weary　limbs　across　the　pebbles　of　his　Harmas；　but　he　bore　his　eighty…seven

years　with　a　fine　disdain　for　age　and　its　failings；　and　although　the　fire

of　his　glance　and　that　whole；　eager　countenance　still　expressed　his　passion

for　the　truth；　his　abrupt　gestures；　touched　with　irony；　his　simple　bearing；

and　the　extreme　modesty　of　his　whole　person；　spoke　sufficiently　of　his

profound　indifference　toward　outside　contingencies；　for　the　baubles　of　fame

and　all　the　stupidities　of　life。



At　a　few　miles'　distance；　in　another　village；　that　other　great　peasant；

Mistral；　the　singer　of　Provence；　the　poet　of　love　and　joy；　the　minstrel　of

rustic　labour　and　antique　faiths；　was　pursuing；　amid　the　homage　of　his

apotheosis；　the　incredible　cycle　of　his　splendid　existence。



This　glory　had　come　to　him　suddenly；　this　fame　〃whose　first　glances　are

sweeter　than　the　fires　of　dawn；〃　and　which　was　never　to　desert　him　for

fifty　long　years。



The　wind　of　favour　which　had　sweetened　his　youth　continued　to　propel　him　in

full　sail。　He　had　only　to　show　himself　to　be　at　once　surrounded；

felicitated；　worshipped；　and　his　mere　presence　would　sway　a　crowd　as　the

black　peaks　of　the　high　cypresses　are　swayed　by　the　great　wind　that　bears

his　name。　Like　Fabre；　he　had　remained　faithful　to　his　native　soil；　that

soil　which　the　great　naturalist　had　never　been　able　to　leave　without　at

once　longing　impatiently　to　return　to　its　dusty　olives　where　the　cigale

sings；　its　ilex　trees　and　its　thickets；　and　so　he　lived　far　from　the

cities；　in　a　quiet　village；　with　the　same　horizon　of　plains　and　hills　that

were　balmy　with　thyme；　leading　in　his　little　home　an　equal　life　full　of

wisdom　and　simplicity。



The　hermit　of　Sérignan　was　the　Lucretius　of　this　Provence；　which　had

already