Tell them that, and they will pardon me.
Others have reproached me with my style, which has not the solemnity, nay, better, the dryness of the schools.

They fear lest a page that is read without fatigue should not always be the expression of the truth.
Were I to take their word for it, we are profound only on condition of being obscure.

Come here, one and all of you--you, the sting-bearers, and you, the wing-cased armour-clads--take up my defence and bear witness in my favour.

Tell of the intimate terms on which I live with you, of the patience with which I observe you, of the care with which I record your actions.

Your evidence is unanimous: yes, my pages, though they bristle not with hollow formulas nor learned smatterings, are the exact narrative of facts observed, neither more nor less; and whoso cares to question you in his turn will obtain the same replies.
And then, my dear insects, if you cannot convince those good people, because you do not carry the weight of tedium, I, in my turn, will say to them: "You rip up the animal and I study it alive; you turn it into an object of horror and pity, whereas I cause it to be loved; you labour in a torture-chamber and dissecting-room, I make my observations under the blue sky, to the song of the Cicadae (The Cicada Cigale, an insect akin to the Grasshopper and found more particularly in the south of France .-- Translator's Note.); you subject cell and protoplasm to chemical tests, I study instinct in its loftiest manifestations; you pry into death, I pry into life.