“If, by chance, an amalgam of Greek or Latin gives a meaning which alludes to its manner of life, the reality is very often in disagreement with the name, because the classifier, working over a necropolis, has outstripped the observer, whose attention is fixed upon the community of the living.”[3]
So the historian of the insects takes the greatest liberties with official science and the official language.
A Spider is not an insect, according to the rules of classification; and as such the Epeira seems out [[328]]of place here. A fig for systems! It is immaterial to the student of instinct whether the animal have eight legs instead of six, or pulmonary sacs instead of air-tubes.[4]
Above all, Fabre is interested in the study of instinct. It is this that determines his choice of the species and the data with which he occupies his leisure and entertains his readers.
Led by this purpose, allured by this vision, he turns by preference to the most richly-endowed species, disdaining the inept, though they may be the most beautiful and the most resplendent, like the Butterflies; and he is often attracted by creatures, great or small, which have scarcely anything in common with the insects save their habits. Thus the ferocity of the Spiders will justify their taking rank next to the Scorpions, the Mantes and the Grasshoppers, the cruelest and most ancient of terrestrial creatures.
Fabre, in fact, seldom departed from the world of insects, because it is in this little world that the greatest miracles of instinct are manifested, in accordance with the entomologist’s motto Maxima in minimis. [[329]]And, as though to increase this prodigious contrast, it often happens that the most remarkable instincts are allotted to the smallest and most despised of insects:
Among the insects it is often the case that one well known to all is a mere simpleton, while another, unknown, has real capacity. Endowed with talents worthy of attention, it remains misunderstood; rich in costume and imposing in deportment, it is familiar to us. We judge it by its coat and its size, as we judge our neighbour by the fineness of his clothes and the place which he occupies. The rest does not count.
Certainly, in order to deserve historical honours, it is as well that the insect should possess a popular reputation. It reassures the reader, who is at once precisely informed; further, it shortens the narrative, rids it of long and tedious descriptions. On the other hand, if size facilitates observation, if grace of form and brilliance of costume captivate the eye, we should do wrong not to take this outward show into account.
But far more important are the habits, the ingenious operations, which give entomological studies their serious attraction. Now it will be found that among the insects the largest, the most splendid, are usually inept creatures: a contradiction which is reproduced elsewhere. What can we expect from a Carabas, all glittering with metallic lights? Nothing but feasting in the slime of [[330]]murdered snail. What of the Cetonia, escaped, one would think, from a jeweller’s show-case? Nothing but drowsing in the heart of a rose. These splendid creatures do nothing; they have no art or craft.
But, on the other hand, if we are seeking original inventions, artistic masterpieces and ingenious contrivance, let us apply to the humblest, more often than not unknown to all. And let us not be repulsed by appearances. Ordure reserves for us beautiful and curious things of which we should not find the like upon the rose. So far the Minotaur has enlightened us by her family habits. Long live modesty and littleness![5]
The small and modest, provided they are valiant and ingenious, and more generally all those that commend themselves by unusual habits or singular technical aptitudes: such are the insects investigated by the author of the Souvenirs. These he follows up for years, sometimes in their natural environment, sometimes in his laboratory. He inquires into their manner of assuring themselves and their race of a livelihood, their fashion of behaviour toward their congeners and their offspring; their industry and their habits are his two chief preoccupations, those which are brought into prominence by the [[331]]sub-title of his book: “Studies in the Instincts and Habits of the Insects,” and the titles of the two volumes of selections which have been published for the general reader: La Vie des Insectes and Les Mœurs des Insectes.
It is, therefore, about these two principal themes, which are, for that matter, very closely connected and very subject to mutual interpenetration, that the data amassed in the ten volumes of the Souvenirs must be grouped and distributed, if we wish to attempt a classification in harmony with the character of the books and the nature of their contents.
By thus assuming the point of view of the author himself and adopting the principle and the form of his classifications and denominations, we shall discover, in this little entomological world, which seems to have been staged a little at random, a society as rich and varied as our own, in which almost all trades and all characters are represented, all the industries and habits of humanity.