Jean-Henri Fabre: unveiling the fascinating world of insects

by A. -M. Slézec, France

Anne-Marie SLÉZEC, PhD MNHN/Museum National d’Histoire Naturelle Paris, FRANCE

Anne-Marie SLÉZEC, PhD, trained as a mycologist and did cell biology research in fungal meiosis. She holds a Diploma in Museology and actively contributed to the creation of the Great Gallery of Evolution, which opened to the public in 1994 at the National Museum of Natural History (MNHN) in Paris. As a botanist with a special interest in the history of the life sciences and of gardens, she headed the MNHN’s regional projects from 1996 to 2006. She was from 2000 to 2007 director of the Jean-Henri Fabre estate at Sérignan-du-Comtat (Provence), of the Val Rahmeh Botanical Garden in Menton (on the French Riviera), and of La Jaÿsinia, an alpine botanical garden in Samoëns in the Haute-Savoie. Dr Slézec has since been in charge of the Fabre-Legros Collection at the MNHN’s main library.

If the plaudits of your peers are a yardstick of accomplishment, then Jean-Henri Fabre was a high achiever. Charles Darwin wrote of Fabre as “that inimitable observer”; the biologist and science writer Jean Rostand characterized him as a “great scientist who thinks as a philosopher, sees as an artist, and feels and expresses himself as a poet”; and Maurice Maeterlinck, Nobel Prize in Literature in 1911 and amateur entomologist, called him “the insect’s Homer.” And if that were not enough, Maeterlinck went on to say Fabre was “one of the most profound and inventive scholars and also one of the purest writers and, I was going to add, one of the finest poets of the century that is just past” (ie, the 19th). Yet Fabre could have attained even greater heights had the wherewithal to fund university studies been available to him. As it was, his formal education ended after teacher training and he was thwarted in his ambition to take the exams to become a university lecturer. Born in 1823 in southern France, Fabre lived in Provence from 1840 until his death seventyfive years later. Fame as an entomologist has tended to overshadow Fabre’s other accomplishments, manifest though they are among the pages of his Souvenirs Entomologiques, the ten-volume scientific and biographical work which has cemented his reputation as an outstanding botanist and zoologist, keen observer of nature, pioneer in the science of ecology, and stylish writer. Souvenirs Entomologiques has been translated around the world and in Japan is held in particularly high esteem for the way Fabre harnesses literature and science to shed light on the marvels of nature.

Portrait of Jean-Henri Fabre (1823-1915) in his garden, at the
Harmas. © MNHN/Philippe Abel.

“Life has unfathomable secrets. Human knowledge shall be erased from the archives of the world before
we possess the last word that the gnat has to say to us”
Jean-Henri Fabre. Souvenirs Entomologiques,
volume 10, “Onthophagus taurus.”

“From my earliest childhood,” wrote Jean-Henri Fabre in his Souvenirs Entomologiques, “I have felt drawn towards the things of Nature. It would be ridiculous to suppose that this gift, this love of observing plants and insects, was inherited from my ancestors, who were uneducated people of the soil and observed little but their own cows and sheep. Of my four grandparents only one ever opened a book, and even so he was very uncertain about his spelling. Nor do I owe anything to a scientific training. Without masters, without guides, often without books, I have gone forward with one aim always before me: to add a few pages to the history of insects.” As it turned out, Fabre added rather more than a few.

Born on December 22,1823, in Saint-Léons in the Aveyron department of southern France, Jean-Henri Fabre entered primary school in Avignon on a scholarship. Alert, intelligent, a brilliant student, he completed his school studies early, enjoining his teachers, as he later recalled in Souvenirs Entomologiques: “Do what you please with my goodwill, make of me what you will; as long as I can study, the rest is unimportant.”1

And study he did—botany, mycology, zoology, geology, archaeological science—passions that remained with him throughout his long life. An incomparable observer,2 Fabre in his fine prose called upon hard-won knowledge of Latin and of Greek, of chemistry, mathematics, and physics, the only subject matter deemed worthy of professional recognition at the time.

Childhood and adolescence: from Rodez to Avignon

Fabre was born into want. “I was five to six years old. To reduce the number of mouths to be fed in our poor household, I was entrusted to the care of grandmother.”3 There, in the harsh climate of the Aveyron (called Rouergue at the time), living conditions on the paternal grandparents’ farm were tough and no doubt forged the combative nature that Fabre showed throughout his life. “I owe you much, dear grandmother […] Perhaps you passed on to me something of your robustness, of your love of work.”4

Later, back in the paternal home, when Fabre turned seven, “…the time was come to go to school. […] How shall I name the room where I was to learn the alphabet? At one and the same time it was a schoolroom, kitchen, bedroom, refectory, at times a henhouse, a pigpen. In those days we scarce dreamed of [the] palace-like schools [that came later].”5

Fabre’s parents moved often in search of work and his was an itinerant childhood. From Rodez, where he was altar boy at the seminary, to Aurillac, to Toulouse, where he completed his school studies, to Montpellier and Pierrelatte.

“Then suddenly it was farewell to my studies. Relentless bad luck struck us. Bread in danger of short supply at home…[…] Scratch around as best you can to earn ten cents’ worth of fried potatoes. Your life will become a loathsome Gehenna. Let’s not dwell upon it.”6

Greater musk-mallow (Malva acea) from Jean-Henri Fabre’s herbarium. © MNHN/Philippe Abel.

Between seasonal jobs to make ends meet, Fabre persevered with his studies and in 1840 won a scholarship: “The good fortune that never abandons the brave led me to a primary school in the Vaucluse, where I found guaranteed fodder: dried chestnuts and chickpeas. […] I had a head start on my fellow students and used the time to organize my haphazard knowledge of plants and animals…”7

In the same year Fabre published his first collection of poetry, took part in the Sainte Croix pilgrimage in September,8 and, following the example of the 14th-century Italian poet and scholar Petrarch, climbed Mount Ventoux, from which he returned with one of the first flowering plants for his herbarium, the poppy Papaver aurantiacum Loisel.

Schoolteacher and father

As a freshly qualified 19-year-old primary teacher in Carpentras (Vaucluse), Fabre soon incurred the ire of his superiors for his teaching practices, which included outdoor nature classes. Teaching in those days was hard: the clergy and the laity taught subjects that weredeemed “noble”; the natural sciences were not among them. To what then could aspire a penniless, self-taught school teacher who had never set foot in a university and who, what is more, was sidetracked into observing nature?

In October 1844 Fabre married fellow teacher Marie Villard, who over the next two years gave birth to a son and daughter, both of whom died in infancy, followed in 1850 by a daughter and over the next thirteen years three more children.

Fabre took a bachelor’s degree in mathematical sciences in 1847 and another the following year in physical sciences: “In those long gone days it was customary to precede science by serious literary studies.”9 “Twelve months of lengthy meditation at my little desk finally were worth a degree in the mathematical sciences. And here I am, half a century later, able to perform eminently lucrative functions as a surveyor of spider’s webs.”10

Fabre’s reading of Natural History of Articulated Animals, Annelids, Crustaceans, Arachnids, Myriapods, and Insects, by Blanchard, Castelnau, and Lucas, spurred his studies and observations, restricted as they were by his teaching duties. “With this foretaste of the natural sciences,…I left school more passionate than ever about insects and flowers. Yet natural history had to be abandoned. It could lead me nowhere. Teaching in those days kept it at a distance, deeming it unworthy of association with Latin and Greek. This left me mathematics, the tools for which were most simple: a blackboard, a stick of chalk, some books…”11

A Corsican interlude

Armed with his diplomas, which procured a higher professional standing, in early 1849 Fabre was appointed head of physics at the Collège Fesch in Ajaccio on the French island of Corsica in the Mediterranean. “In short, I was sent to teach physics and chemistry…. The sea full of marvels…. …I succumbed. My free time was divided in two. The largest part I devoted to mathematics, the basis of my academic future … the other I spent tentatively collecting plants, studying things from the sea….” Times were hard at the Collège Fesch: no student passed the high school diploma and the local authorities’ verdict was damning: “The college has fallen into ruinous disrepute because many pupils have deserted it to take instead tuition at the small seminary.”

Books authored by Jean-Henri Fabre: Clockwise from top left: The Little Girls, a primer. © MNHN/Philippe Abel.; a small schoolbook on botany. Private collection.
Complete 11-volume collection of Souvenirs Entomologiques (1920). All rights reserved.

During Fabre’s Corsican interlude, his encounter with Esprit Requien, the Director of the botanical gardens and founder of the Natural History Museum in Avignon, proved decisive in his development as a scientist. Requien introduced Fabre to Alfred Moquin-Tandon, professor of botany at the botanical gardens in Toulouse, zoologist, poet, philosopher, and physician. Moquin-Tandon accompanied Fabre on botanical excursions, discussed science with him, encouraged him to follow his penchant for natural history, and urged him to continue to use and preserve the Occitan language. Fabre and Requien planned to write a book on the flora of Corsica, but the plan came to naught following Requien’s sudden death in 1851.12

Upon his return to mainland France, Fabre took up a position in January 1853 as assistant teacher of physics at the Lycée Impérial in Avignon, where he and his family rented a house and garden at number 14, rue des Teinturiers. In Avignon, Fabre became firm friends with Théodore Delacour, who worked as crop manager and associate at the seed merchant’s Vilmorin–Andrieux on the Quai de la Mégisserie in Paris. Delacour was Fabre’s Parisian contact and smoothed the way to the publication of his articles in journals of natural science or at the Academy of Sciences. Delacour procured for Fabre the latest scientific works and journals and even asked him to teach courses at the Vaucluse Chamber of Agriculture. Fabre’s garden in Avignon and after 1879 his house and garden in Sérignan-du-Comtat were the scene of their discussions, horticultural tests, and attempts to acclimate new species to be introduced onto the market.13

In addition to his passionate interest in botany, Fabre devoted much time to studying insects, for which he invented living spaces wherein to observe them. He kept abreast of publications by fellow entomologists, including Léon Dufour’s work on Cerceris, a genus of wasps, on which Fabre published an article in the Annales de Sciences Naturelles in 1855, for which the following year he was awarded the Montyon Prize for experimental physiology at the Institut de France. At this time Fabre completed his university studies with a Bachelor’s Degree in Natural Sciences, and two doctoral theses (zoology and botany) defended at the Faculty of Sciences in Paris.

Always keen to improve his family’s living conditions, Fabre gave his career a new twist by deploying his qualities as a chemist. Using the roots of madder, which was much grown in Provence, he extracted alizarin, a natural red colorant used to dye cloth for soldiers’ trousers. He registered several patents at the Vaucluse Agricultural Academy, but his hopes were dashed when two German chemists synthesized alizarin and the market for the natural dye collapsed.

Ever resourceful and hard-working and making use of his talents as a teacher and writer, Fabre published in 1862 Lessons in Agricultural Chemistry, followed by over one hundred schoolbooks, from which additional revenue in the form of royalties eased the family’s financial situation.

Under Napoleon III (French Emperor between 1852 and 1870), teaching methods evolved on the initiative of the Minister of Public Instruction Victor Duruy, who initiated evening classes for adults. As a teacher, Fabre was ahead of his time and highly successful in this role, collecting plants in the countryside, studying and speaking of natural phenomena and mother nature in all her guises, including sex in flowering plants. “This was too much. See indeed how dark was my crime: I was teaching these young people what the air and water are, where thunderbolts, lightning, and thunder come from… how a seed germinates and how a flower blooms, things eminently abominable in the eyes of some, who half-close their flabby eyelids against the brightness of day. As a matter of urgency, the little source of enlightenment had to be snuffed out, the nuisance banished.” Much valued by his students, but disparaged by his superiors, Fabre was the victim of a conspiracy and the family lost their lodgings and had to leave Avignon.14

By 1868 Fabre was earning royalties from his schoolbooks equivalent to his teacher’s remuneration and so he left teaching forthwith. The city of Avignon provisionally appointed him to the position of curator at the Musée Requien (natural history), which is where he met John Stuart Mill. Economist, theoretician of liberalism, and former director of the British East India Company, Mill had come to Avignon to spend his retirement collecting plants, writing, and visiting the Musée Requien. Recently widowed after only seven years of marriage, Mill was inconsolable and found solace in his conversations with Fabre. They shared a taste for nature and upon Mill’s initiative planned to write a book on the flora of the Vaucluse. Fabre was to deal with Cryptogams (plants and fungi that produce spores, and not seeds or flowers), starting with a study of the Spheriaceae (minuscule fungi that cover dead wood). But Fabre’s precarious financial situation hampered his work on the project and with great tact Mill came to his assistance. Deeply moved, Fabre made it a point of honor to repay his friend. Sadly, the projected flora of the Vaucluse never materialized as Mill died in 1873, and in the same year the city of Avignon stripped Fabre of his position, thus separating him from the plant collections to which Mill had greatly contributed. Fabre’s essay on the Spheriaceae of the Vaucluse Department was finally published in 1878.

English philosopher and political economist
John Stuart Mill (1808-1873).
© Akg-images/Blanc Kunstverlag.

At the outbreak of the Franco-Prussian War in 1870 the Fabre family moved to Orange, where they rented accommodation in town and then on the outskirts, in La Vinarde. There, over the next nine years Fabre wrote educational books and part of what would later become the first volume of his Souvenirs Entomologiques. City Hall in Orange entrusted Fabre with expert appraisals pending receipt of his royalties, payment of which was blocked in Paris because of the war. The relative peace Fabre found in La Vinarde, far from the hubbub of the city, was nonetheless troubled by illness and above all by the death at just sixteen of his son Jules. “Dear child,” wrote Fabre, “my collaborator so passionate about insects… Ah! How death is unbearable when it cuts down a flower in the full bloom of youth!”15 In late 1878, during his convalescence from a bout of pneumonia, Fabre discovered that the magnificent line of plane trees on the approach to La Vinarde had been cut down on the orders of the owner. It was time to move and in February of the following year Fabre bought a two-storied house eight kilometers west of Orange, in the village of Sérignan-du- Comtat. “Hoc erat in votis” (This was among my prayers) he wrote in his Souvenirs Entomologiques, quoting Horace, the 1st-century BCE Roman lyric poet.16 What’s more, the house came with an overgrown garden or “harmas,” which Fabre described as “an untilled, pebbly expanse where hardly any plant but  thyme can grow. It is too poor to be worth the trouble of plowing, but the sheep pass there in spring, when it has chanced to rain and a little grass grows up.” This was to be his laboratory where never had he “seen so large a population of insects at a single spot.”

The Harmas. © MNHN/Philippe Abel.

Jean-Henri Fabre’s study at the Harmas.
© MNHN/Philippe Abel.

Jean-Henri Fabre’s study at the Harmas.
© MNHN/Philippe Abel.

Thus began thirty-six intellectually rich and fruitful years at Sérignan, during which Fabre went into the village no more than a score of times, but climbed the slopes of Mount Ventoux on close to fifty occasions and, in his harmas, his “field laboratory,” recorded his observations of insects in the next nine volumes of his Souvenirs Entomologiques. Until 1909 he continued to write school texts and science books for the general public, poetry in Provençal (a variety of Occitan, a Romance language closely related to Catalan), and also painted over six hundred watercolor drawings of fungi for educational purposes.

Fabre the scientist: an experimenter and observer of life

Fabre, “that inimitable observer” as Charles Darwin called him in The Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection, discovered insects by reading the 17th-century French fabulist and poet Jean de La Fontaine and the great and the good of entomology in 18th- and 19th-century France—René Antoine Ferchault de Réaumur, Pierre-André Latreille, Jean Théodore Lacordaire, and Émile Blanchard.

Fabre found that insects were easy to rear and observe in his closed garden, a sort of ecological reserve, and in his lab, and to study in the surrounding countryside, blessed as it was with a wide range of species. The instincts of insects were much debated at the time and of great interest to Fabre.17 “The instinct aroused by a chance act that proves favorable for the animal is an acquired habit. And on that, arguments invoke natural selection, atavism, the struggle for life. I see a good many big words, but I prefer a few small facts. And for forty years before long I have been gathering these little facts, examining them. And they don’t tally exactly with current theories. […] In this world, apparently, the evolution of the cell is not everything. […] I dismiss the modern theory of instinct. I see nothing there but a presumption in which revels a naturalist who ventures not into the field but rather fashions the world according to his imagination; in which, however, the observer, grappling with the reality of things, finds no serious explanation of what he sees.”18

Fabre corresponded extensively with Darwin on matters of natural history and jointly they devised experiments, which Fabre carried out. Darwin wrote: “Allow me to make a suggestion in relation to your wonderful account of insects finding their way home. I formerly wished to try it with pigeons; namely, to carry insects in their paper cornets about hundred paces in the opposite direction to that which you intended ultimately to carry them, but before turning round to return, to put the insects in a circular box with an axle which could be made to revolve very rapidly first in one direction and then in another, so as to destroy for a time all sense of direction in the insects. I have sometimes imagined that animals may feel in which direction they were at the first star carried.”

One experiment on Chalicodoma (bees) led Fabre to posit that the Earth’s magnetic field influenced the return of the bees to their nest, a hypothesis confirmed in the 1980s by the mathematician and physicist Yves Rocard. Fabre wrote: “The method of experimentation seemed ingeniously designed to me… This result seemed all the more likely to me as the country people around me repeated facts likely to confirm my expectations… I related to the philosopher of Down [Darwin] how the peasants had anticipated the investigations of science….” 19

Charles Darwin and extract of a letter to Jean-Henri Fabre: ”I am extremely happy to hear that your book will probably
be translated into English….P. S. I shall be much pleased to hear the result of your experiments.”
Photo of Charles Darwin, Photographische Gesellschaft, Berlin © Wellcome Library, London; Photo of letter: © MNHN/Philippe Abel.

Fabre’s excursions on Mount Ventoux provided evidence for plant species’ composition at different altitudes. “My barometer indicated the altitude of the main botanical sites […] The temperature becoming too low, little by little the olive tree, the holm oak, vines and almond trees disappear; followed by blackberry bushes, the walnut, the white oak. Box becomes abundant. We enter a monotonous region that extends from the end of the arable land to the lower half of beeches and where the dominant vegetation is mountain savory.”20 These observations were later confirmed by Charles Henri Marie Flahault, the pioneer of phytogeography who drew the first vegetation map in 1894.

Town in Roussillon with Mont Ventoux in the distance. © Christophe Boisvieux/Corbis.

“On this memorable day, therefore, the 13th of December, 1895, I instituted the caterpillars’ meteorological observatory.” Thus did Fabre begin his studies of the pine processionary caterpillar and its sensorial perception. He observed that the caterpillar dreads inclement weather: “A drop of rain sets him in a flutter; a snowflake exasperates him. To start for the grazing-grounds at dark of night, in uncertain weather, would be dangerous, for the procession goes some distance and travels slowly. The flock would fare ill before regaining shelter did any sudden atmospheric trouble supervene, an event of some frequency in the bad season of the year. So that he may be informed in this particular during his nocturnal winter rambles, can the Pine Caterpillar be endowed with some sort of meteorological aptitudes? […] From the sumof my observations it appears that the Pine Processionary is eminently sensitive to atmospheric vicissitudes, an excellent quality, having regard to his way of life in the sharp winter nights. He foresees the storm, which would imperil his excursions.”21

The great peacock evening

Fabre bred the giant peacock moth (Saturnia pyri) and observed its behavior and whether sight, hearing, or sense of smell guides the males to a female sequestered in a wire-gauze bell-jar in his laboratory. “It was a memorable evening. I shall call it the Great Peacock evening. […] What are the organs of information that direct the rutting Moth on its nightly pilgrimage? […] One suspects the antennae, which, in the males, do in fact seem to be questioning space with their spreading tufts of feathers. […] Are there, in point of fact, effluvia similar to what we call odor, effluvia of extreme subtlety, absolutely imperceptible to ourselves and yet capable of impressing a sense of smell better endowed than ours?”22 Fabre needed nearly six seasons to affirm the probable existence of odor emitted by the female moth that our olfactory organs are unable to detect, but which is indispensable for the survival of the giant peacock moth. It was not until 1959 that the mystery was solved by the German biochemist Peter Karlson and the Swiss entomologist Martin Lüscher who coined the term pheromones for “substances which are secreted to the outside by an individual and received by a second individual of the same species, in which they release a specific reaction, for example, a definite behavior or a developmental process.”

Jean-Henri Fabre’s Souvenirs Entomologiques continue to enjoy huge popularity in Japan and China.
From top to bottom: Japanese edition for children;
10-volume children’s edition in Chinese. One volume of a standard Chinese edition. All rights reserved.

Death comes to all living things, but what happens to their bodies abandoned in the woods or fields? In his chapter on burying beetles, Fabre carefully describes his observations “…the ant hastens there first and starts the dissection into pieces. Soon the odor attracts Diptera, which generate the odious maggot […], …in waves scuttling with mincing steps comes the shiny carrion beetle.” The cadaver soon teems with insects, each wave exploiting another niche, another part of the nutrient-rich food source. The burying beetle does what its name says and uses the cadaver as food for its offspring. It is “the first of the little ‘sanitizers,’ ‘cleansers’ of the fields.”23

“…to rid the soil of the stains of death and to put into the treasures of life the deceased animal matter, there are legions of enterprising butchers, including in this part of the world the bluebottle fly (Calliphora vomitoria) and the common flesh fly (Sarcophaga carnaria). […] To lay its eggs the bluebottle seeks open wounds or the mucous membranes of the mouth or eyes unprotected by an epidermis offering any resistance.” 24 “He who says dung-beetle says a fervent friend of dung, in which the insect protects the provender of its offspring. But this is not the case of the Coprophanaeus milon, the scavenging dung-beetle of the pampa. […] It needs the pus of corpses. In Provence just one scavenging dungbeetle, Onthophagus ovatus, is found frequently on dead moles and lifeless rabbits.” 25 Did Fabre perhaps imagine insects in the service of forensic science?

George Legros and the legacy of Jean-Henri Fabre

Fabre’s intuition, experiments, and patience underpin his meticulous and allembracing observations, which often are found in scientific work that came after him. We are indebted to biographer Georges Legros for many pages on Fabre and through these for the entomologist’s enduring renown.26 A man of means, country doctor, surgeon during the Great War, Legros never forgot “his master” and as a long-serving parliamentary deputy (congressman) oversaw laws that saved national heritage sites like Fabre’s home and garden, which in 1922 were acquired by the National Museum of Natural History. A duty to remember.


1. Fabre JH. Souvenirs Entomologiques. Série X, chapitre XXI: Mémorable leçon;
p 345. Paris, France: Éditions Delagrave; 1925.
2. Fabre JH. Souvenirs Entomologiques. Série VI, chapitre III: L’atavisme; p 35.
Paris, France: Éditions Delagrave; 1925.
3. Ibidem (4) p 42.
4. ibidem (4) (5) p 41.
5. Fabre JH. Souvenirs Entomologiques. Série VI, chapitre IV: Mon école: p 46.
Paris, France: Éditions Delagrave; 1925.
6. Ibidem (7) p 63.
7. Ibidem (8) p 64-65.
8. Julian P. Pèlerinage du Mont Ventoux. Avignon, France: Éditions du Mont Ventoux.
Archives du Palais du Roure Avignon. 1917:171-218.
9. Fabre JH. Souvenirs Entomologiques. Série IX, chapitre XIII: Souvenirs mathématiques;
p 18. Paris, France: Éditions Delagrave; 1925.
10. Ibidem (11) p 197.
11. Fabre JH. Souvenirs Entomologiques. Série VI, chapitre IV: Mon école. p 64.
Paris, France: Éditions Delagrave; 1925.
12. Tort P. Fabre, le miroir aux insectes Paris:Vuibert ; 2002 /Adapt p 28; ou Fabre
JH. Souvenirs Entomologiques. Série VI, chapitre IV: Mon école pp 66-68. Paris,
France: Éditions Delagrave; 1925.
13. Slézec AM. Jean-Henri Fabre en son Harmas de 1879-1915. Avignon, France:
Edisud; 2011:1-127.
14. Fabre JH. Souvenirs Entomologiques. Série II, chapitre VIII:Histoire de mes chats.
p 135. Paris, France: Éditions Delagrave; 1925.
15. Fabre JH. Souvenirs Entomologiques. Série II, Préface: A mon fils Jules. Paris,
France: Éditions Delagrave; 1925.
16. Fabre JH. Souvenirs Entomologiques. Série II, chapitre I: L’harmas. Paris, France:
Éditions Delagrave; 1925.
17. Fabre JH. Souvenirs Entomologiques. Série II, chapitre X: Fragments sur la psychologie
de l’insecte. p 166 ff. Paris, France: Éditions Delagrave; 1925.
18. Fabre JH. Souvenirs Entomologiques. Série II, chapitre IV: La théorie de l’instinct.
p. 59.
19. Fabre JH. Souvenirs Entomologiques. Série II, chapitre VII: Nouvelles recherches
sur les Chalicodomes. pp106-108. Paris, France: Éditions Delagrave; 1925.
20. Fabre JH. Souvenirs Entomologiques. Série I, chapitre XIII: Une ascension au
Mont Ventoux. pp 212-221. Paris, France: Éditions Delagrave; 1925.
21. Fabre JH. Souvenirs Entomologiques. Série VI, chapitre XXI: La processionnaire
du pin: la météorologie. pp 386-391. Paris, France: Éditions Delagrave;
22. Fabre JH. Souvenirs Entomologiques. Série VII, chapitre XXIII: Le grand paon
pp.363 à 374.
23. Fabre JH. Souvenirs Entomologiques. Série VI, chapitre VII: Les nécrophores -
l’enterrement; chapitre VIII: Les nécrophores - Expériences. Paris, France: Éditions
Delagrave; 1925.
24. Fabre JH. Souvenirs Entomologiques. Série X, chapitre XVI. p 254 ff. Paris,
France: Éditions Delagrave; 1925.
25. Fabre JH. Souvenirs Entomologiques. Série VI, chapitre V: Les bousiers des pampas.
p 84. Paris, France: Éditions Delagrave; 1925.
26. Legros GV. La Vie de J.-H. Fabre, Naturaliste. Paris, France: Delagrave; 1925.
(Some translated quotes taken from: Fabre, Jean-Henri, 1823-1915: Fabre’s book
of insects, retold from Alexander Teixeira de Mattos’ translation of Fabre’s Souvenirs
Entomologiques. New York, NY: Dodd, Mead, and Co; 1921.)