MICROSCOPIC DISCOVERIES, 85 



accumulate, and at length, when entirely deprived of moist- 

 ure, perish. Previously to this they appear in great distress, 

 writhe their bodies, and endeavour to escape from that state 

 of uneasiness which they evidently feel. If the smallest 

 quantity of sulphuric acid be put into a drop of the infusion 

 which swarms with these insects, they immediately throw 

 themselves on their backs and expire. 



Upon examining the edge of a very sharp lancet with a 

 microscope, it will appear as broad as the back of a knife ; 

 rough, uneven, full of notches and furrows. An exceed- 

 ingly small needle resembles a rough iron bar. But the 

 sting of a bee, seen though the same instrument, exhibits 

 every where a most beautiful polish, without the least flaw, 

 blemish, or inequality, and it ends in a point too fine to be 

 discerned. The threads of fine lawn seem coarser than the 

 yarn with which ropes are made for anchors. But a silk- 

 Worm's web appears perfectly smooth and shining, and every 

 where equal. The smallest dot, that can be made with a 

 pen, appears irregular and uneven. But the little specks on 

 the wings or bodies of insects are found to be most accu- 

 rately circular. The finest miniature paintings appear be- 

 fore the microscope rugged and uneven, entirely void of 

 beauty, either in the drawing or colouring. The most even 

 and beautiful varnishes will be found to be mere roughness. 

 But the nearer we examine the works of God, even in the 

 least of his productions, the more sensible shall we be of his 

 wisdom and power. In the numberless species of insects, 

 what proportion, exactness, uniformity, and symmetry do we 

 perceive in all their organs ! what a profusion of colouring ! 

 azure, green, and vermilion, gold, silver, pearls, rubies, and 

 diamonds ; fringe and embroidery on their bodies, wmgs, 

 heads, and every other part ! how high the finishing, how 

 inimitable the polish we every where behold ! 



On the gay bosom of some fragrant flower 

 They, idly fluttering, live their little hour ; 

 Their life all pleasure, and their task all play, 

 All spring their age, and sunshine all their day. 

 Not so the child of sorrow, wretched man, 

 His course with toil concludes, with pain began ; 

 That his high destiny he might discern. 

 And in misfortune's school this lesson learn ; 

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