The life of Jean Henri Fabre, the entomologist, 1823-1910 — John Shaqi
The life of Jean Henri Fabre, the entomologist, 1823-1910Fabre, Augustin
Science
The life of Jean Henri Fabre, the entomologist, 1823-1910
Fabre, Augustin
Entomologists -- France -- Biography; Fabre, Jean-Henri, 1823-1915
And yet no! Alone among living creatures man has the thirst for
knowledge; he alone pries into the mysteries of things. The least
among us will utter his whys and his wherefores, a fine pain
unknown to the brute beast. If these questionings come from us with
greater persistence, with a more imperious authority, if they
divert us from the quest of lucre, life’s only object in the eyes
of most men, does it behove us to complain? Let us be careful not
to do so, for that would be denying the best of all our gifts.
Let us strive, on the contrary, within the measure of our capacity,
to force a gleam of light from the vast unknown; let us examine and
question and, here and there, wrest a few shreds of truth. We shall
sink under the task; in the present ill-ordered state of society,
we shall end, perhaps, in the workhouse. Let us go ahead for all
that: our consolation shall be that we have increased by one atom
the general mass of knowledge, the incomparable treasure of
mankind.
As this modest lot has fallen to me, I will return to the pond,
notwithstanding the wise admonitions and the bitter tears which I
once owed to it. I will return to the pond, but not to that of the
small ducks, the pond aflower with illusions: those ponds do not
occur twice in a lifetime. For luck like that, you must be in all
the new glory of your first breeches and your first ideas.
Many another have I come upon since that distant time, ponds very
much richer and, moreover, explored with the ripened eye of
experience. Enthusiastically I searched them with the net, stirred
up their mud, ransacked their trailing weeds. None in my memories
comes up to the first, magnified in its delights and mortifications
by the marvellous perspective of the years. [20]
His excursions to the pond and the garden were little more to our
little Jean-Henri than the preface to rather more distant excursions in
the neighbourhood of Saint-Léons. The edge of the brook, the crest of
the hill and the skirts of the beechwood which limit his horizon are
the chosen spots to which his curiosity leads him, and the favourite
scene of his childish rambles. It is really delightful to watch him
taking possession of these unknown territories and making the first
inventory of the wealth that he will explore later on.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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