The Life of the Fly 



re scibili after the botanical excursion was 

 over. 



With Moquin-Tandon, new vistas opened 

 before me. Here it was no longer the case 

 of a nomenclator with an infallible memory: 

 he was a naturalist with far-reaching ideas, a 

 philosopher who soared above petty details 

 to comprehensive views of life, a writer, a 

 poet who knew how to clothe the naked truth 

 in the magic mantle of the glowing word. 

 Never again shall I sit at an intellectual feast 

 like that: 



'Leave your mathematics,' he said. 'No 

 one will take the least interest in your formulae. 

 Get to the beast, the plant; and, if, as I be- 

 lieve, the fever burns in your veins, you will 

 find men to listen to you.' 



We made an expedition to the centre of the 

 island, to Monte Renoso, 1 with which I was 

 already familiar. I made the scientist pick the 

 hoary everlasting {Helichrysum frigidum), 

 which makes a wonderful patch of silver; the 

 many-headed thrift, or mouflon-grass (Ar- 

 mer'ia mult'iceps) , which the Corsicans call 

 erba muorone; the downy marguerite (Leu- 

 can themum tomosum) , which, clad in wadding, 



1 A mountain of 7,730 feet, about twenty-five miles from 

 Ajaccio. — Translator's Note. 



158 



