JUNE 20, 1912| 
NATURE 
401 
FABRE AND THE INSECT WORLD. 
\V E have before us a fresh proof of the genius 
of the author of ‘Souvenirs Entomo- 
logiques.”” His true tales from the Midi stand 
in a place by themselves, whether we consider 
them as science or as literature. Fabre is not 
only on terms of extraordinary familiarity with 
cigale and mantis, scarabee and crickets, and 
how many more, but we feel that he has got far 
The mantis. 1. 
mate, 4. In her attitude of prayer. 
Life in the Insect World.” 
A duel between females. 2. Devouring a cricket. 
5. In her “spectral” attitude. 
into an understanding of a type of mental life 
which is on lines very different from ours. He 
has a Dickens-like power of disclosing con- 
vincingly to others the vie intime of insects which 
has become so real to him in the course of a life- 
time of patient observation. In this volume, 
the title of which is not very apposite, Fabre tells 
1 “Social Life in the Insect World.” 
Bernard Miall. Pp. viii+32 
ros. 6d. net. 
By J. H. Fabre. 
T. Fisher Unwin, rgr2.) Price 
Translated by 
7. (London: 
NOs 2225, VOL. 39] 
. Devouring her 
** Social 
From 
the story of the insects we have mentioned above, 
and of the sisyphus beetle, the bee-hunter 
Philanthus, the emperor moth, the oak eggar, the 
truffle-hunter Bolboceras, the elephant-beetle, the 
pea-weevil, the haricot-weevil, and the pine- 
chafer. But how can these names suggest the 
exciting and romantic tales Fabre has to tell? 
Let us take an instance briefly :— 
The bee-hunter, Philanthus apivorus (four times 
misprinted aviporus), is a brigand who attacks 
and kills hive-bees. The invariable situa- 
tion of the fatal wound is on a white soft 
spot under what we may call the chin of 
the bee. Why is that spot chosen when 
there is a wider defenceless breach in the 
region of the corselet? Observation sup- 
plies the answer that the blow under the 
chin means stabbing the head ganglia, 
means the sudden immobility of the 
mouth-parts. F 
If the object of the Philanthus were merely 
to cause paralysis she would plunge her 
sting into the defective corselet, as does the 
Cerceris in attacking the weevil, whose 
armour is quite unlike the bee’s. Her aim 
is to kill outright; she wants a corpse, not 
a paralytic. ... What art, to destroy a 
miserable bee! In what fencing school did 
the slayer learn that terrible upward thrust 
beneath the chin? And as she has learned 
it, how is it that her victim, so learned in 
matters of architecture, so conversant with 
the politics of Socialism, has so far learned 
nothing in her own defence? As vigorous 
as the aggressor, she also carries a rapier, 
which is even more formidable and more 
painful in its results. . . . For centuries and 
centuries Philanthus has stored her cellars 
with the corpses of bees, yet the innocent 
victim submits, and the annual decimation 
of her race has not taught her how to deliver 
herself from the scourge by a well-directed 
thrust. 
The hive-bee seems to be careless in 
the presence of Philanthus—assassin and 
future victim often drink from the same 
flower-goblet—and when it is caught it 
thrusts without method, at random. It 
only kills by accident. When the Phil- 
anthus has delivered the fatal stroke, it 
remains for sme time quiet, clasping the 
bee—perhaps because the corpse retains 
for some minutes the reflex use of the 
sting. Then it begins in an extraordinary 
way to bruise and pound the bee’s body, 
but with never another wound. What 
does it all mean? 
These various manipulations, above all, the com- 
pression of the throat, lead to the desired result: the 
honey in the stomach of the bee ascends to the mouth. 
The atrocious meal lasts often half an hour or 
more, and repeated manipulation is resorted to 
until the last trace of honey has disappeared. 
The book is full of similar stories, most of 
them, we must observe, of a less lurid character. 
Mr. Bernard Miall is to be heartily congratulated 
on his successful rendering of Fabre’s style. 
