FABRE'S BOOK OF INSECTS 



contained the under-linen of a princess. Here is a grain 

 that is even more astonishing. The one in the story 

 took years and years to sprout and multiply, till at last 

 it yielded the hemp required for the trousseau: the 

 Locust's tiny bundle supplies a sumptuous set of sails 

 in three hours. They are formed of exquisitely fine 

 gauze, a network of innumerable tiny bars. 



In the wing of the larva we can see only a few un- 

 certain outlines of the future lace-work. There is no- 

 thing to suggest the marvellous fabric whose every mesh 

 will have its form and place arranged for it, 'with 

 absolute exactness. Yet it is there, as the oak is inside 

 the acorn. 



There must be something to make the matter of the 

 wing shape itself into a sheet of gauze, into a labyrinth 

 of meshes. There must be an original plan, an ideal 

 pattern which gives each atom its proper place. The 

 stones of our buildings are arranged in accordance with 

 the architect's plan; they form an imaginary building be- 

 fore they exist as a real one. In the same way a Locust's 

 wing, that sumptuous piece of lace emerging from a 

 miserable sheath, speaks to us of another Architect, the 

 Author of the plans which Nature must follow in her 

 labours. 



[248] 



