The Life of the Fly 



the reader must see no more than a figure of 

 speech, which, without explaining anything, 

 tries to throw a glimmer of light upon it. The 

 long procession of card friars is knocked down 

 by the mere touch of the little finger to the 

 first; the voluminous solution of alum suddenly 

 turns solid under the influence of an invisible 

 particle. In the same way, the victims of my 

 operations succumb, thrown into convulsions 

 by a tiny drop of insignificant size and harm- 

 less appearance. 



Then what is there in that terrible liquid? 

 First of all, there is water, inactive in itself 

 and simply a vehicle of the active agent. If a 

 proof were needed of its innocuousness, here 

 is one : I inject into the thigh of any one of the 

 Sacred Beetle's six legs a drop of pure water 

 larger than that of the fatal inoculations. As 

 soon as he is released, he makes off and trots 

 about as nimbly as usual. He is quite firm on 

 his legs. When put back to his pellet,^ he rolls 

 it with the same zeal as before the experiment. 

 My injection of water makes no difference to 

 him. 



What else is there in the mixture in my 



^The Dung-beetles roll cattle-droppings into pills for 

 their own consumption and that of their grubs. See In- 

 sect Life: chaps, i and ii; and The Life and Love of the 

 Insect: chaps, i to iv. — Translator's Note. 

 380 



