When in the vengeance of God upon the guilty land of Egypt it pleased Him to send the plague of insects, the exclamation of the magicians was: This is the finger of God." Such, in an admiring sense, may be ours also as we look back upon what we perceive God to have done for this humble portion of His creation in the few past pages. What provision, what wonderful forethought and wisdom has not been exercised upon beings which man despises, or even abhors, and which fall daily by thousands under foot, crushed and forgotten except by a few. Let us search the green lanes and hedge-rows more assiduously,--let us poke even into the dirtiest corners,--let us examine well the leaves and branches in our gardens, the depths of the purling brook, the cavities of the aged trunks, and the cracks in the deep-furrowed bark,--let us look narrowly upon the cabbages and nettles, as well as upon the rose-bush and myrtle,--let no place, in a word, be beneath our scrutiny, no object beneath our notice;--let us do this, and we shall not need to sigh after foreign scenes, or the majestic wonders of nature, for we shall have a microcosm, a world of wonders, in a table drawer, and an exhaustless theme of admiration in the contents of a tumbler of water.
[Illustration: INSECTS ESCAPING FROM THE PUPA CONDITION.
Hanging to the slender branch of yonder rose-tree, swinging to and fro with the gentle air which blows in scented waves through the flower-garden, is a little object to which we wish to direct attention. Had not notice been thus directed to it, in all probability we should have passed it by, if we observed it at all, only considering it to be a broken twig or withered leaf suspended by a cob-web. We may examine it minutely, but all is quiet and motionless in the little mass, and it is impossible to detect the least sign of life. A casual eye would rest upon it without interest, and would turn away from it uninstructed as to its nature and properties. In colour it has nothing to attract--it is of a dirty white or brown, and in shape it is, though curious, so small, and so uninviting, that few would take the trouble to pay much attention to it. Day by day it swings from its silken cord, and is to all appearance an object without interest to all around it.