THE REPOSE OF NATURE. 221 



in rows more regular than the slates on a house-top, 

 each over-lapping the other, and arranged so as to 

 defend the delicate membrane of the wing from mois- 

 ture. You cannot wet a moth's wing with water, for it 

 runs off in drops as if the wings were covered with 

 oil. 



When were these scales made, and how were they 

 fashioned? No naturalist can give an answer, save 

 that they exist by the will of the Divine author. Truly 

 it is worth while to reflect upon the constant and 

 elaborate providential care which is required to form 

 the wing of a moth in so short a time, and to think 

 what laborious tasks are being elaborated in the earth 

 beneath our feet, while we superficially think that 

 nature is reposing. Not even the trees are reposing, 

 although their branches wave, black and deathlike, 

 against the sky. They are silently but laboriously 

 concentrating their forces, settling the spots whence 

 new leaves and new branches are to spring, driving 

 fresh rootlets through the soil, in order to gather from 

 its various elements those particles which will be 

 needed to carry on the work of increase, and preparing 

 themselves with the instinctive foresight of the vege- 

 table kingdom for the labours of the ensuing year. 



Even in so-called inorganic particles there is no 

 absolute repose ; for the chemist can detect in each 

 grain of sand below our feet, in each tiny mite that 

 dances and sparkles in the sunbeams, an array of 

 mighty forces acting together, and uniting for the 



