almost all the modes of obtaining food which prevail amongst predaceous quadrupeds-the audacious attack of the lion; the wily spring of the tiger; the sedentary cunning of the lynx; and the amphibious dexterity of the otter.

This general view of the stratagems by which the spider tribe obtain their food, imperfect as it is, will, I trust, have interested you sufficiently to drive away the associations of disgust with which you, like almost every one else, have probably been accustomed to regard these insects. Instead of considering them as repulsive compounds of cruelty and ferocity, you will henceforward see in their procedures only the ingenious contrivance of patient and industrious hunters, who, while obeying the great law of nature in procuring their sustenance, are actively serviceable to the human race in destroying noxious insects. You will allow the poet to stigmatize them as

but you will see that these epithets are in reality as unjustly applied to them (at least with reference to the mode in which they procure their necessary subsistence) as to the patient sportsman who lays snares for the birds that are to serve for the dinner of his family; and when you hear

"........ the fluttering wing

And shriller sound declare extreme distress,"

you will as little think it the part of true mercy to stretch forth the helping hospitable hand" to the entrapped fly as to the captive birds. The spider requires his meal as

well as the Indian: and, however to our weak capacity the great law of creation "eat or be eaten" may seem cruel or unnecessary, knowing as we do that it is the ordinance of a beneficent Being, who does all things well, and that in fact the sum of happiness is greatly augmented by it, no man, who does not let a morbid sensibility get the better of his judgement, will, on account of their subjection to this rule, look upon predaceous animals with abhorrence.

pro

One more instance of the stratagems of insects in curing their prey shall conclude this letter. Other examples might be adduced, but the enumeration would be tedious. This, from an order of insects widely dif fering from that which includes the race of spiders, is perhaps more curious and interesting than any of those hitherto recited. The insect to which I allude, an inhabitant of the south of Europe, is the larva of a species of ant-lion (Myrmeleon, L.), so called from its singular manners in this state. It belongs to a genus between the dragon-fly and the Hemerobius. When full When full grown its length is about half an inch: in shape it has a slight resemblance to a wood-louse, but the outline of the body is more triangular, the anterior part being considerably wider than the posterior: it has six legs, and the mouth is furnished with a forceps consisting of two incurved jaws, which give it a formidable appearance1. If we looked only at its external conformation and habits, we should be apt to conclude it one of the most helpless animals in the creation. Its sole food is the juices of other

a PLATE XIX. FIG. 8

insects, particularly ants, but at the first view it seems impossible that it should ever secure a single meal. Not only is its pace slow, but it can walk in no other direction than backwards; you may judge, therefore, what would be such a hunter's chance of seizing an active ant. Nor would a stationary posture be more favourable; for its grim aspect would infallibly impress upon all wanderers the prudence of keeping at a respectful distance. What then is to become of our poor ant-lion? In its appetite it is a perfect epicure, never, however great may be its hunger, deigning to taste of a carcase unless it has previously had the enjoyment of killing it; and then extracting only the finer juices. In what possible way can it contrive to supply such a succession of delicacies, when its ordinary habits seem to unfit it for obtaining even the coarsest provision? You shall hear. It accomplishes by artifice what all its open efforts would have been unequal to. It digs in loose sand a conical pit, in the bottom of which it conceals itself, and there seizes upon the insects which, chancing to stumble over the margin, are precipitated down the sides to the centre. "How wonderful!" you exclaim: but you will be still more surprised when I have described the whole process by which it excavates its trap, and the ingenious contrivances to which it has recourse.

Its first concern is to find a soil of loose dry sand, in the neighbourhood of which, indeed, its provident mother has previously taken care to place it, and in a sheltered spot near an old wall, or at the foot of a tree. This is necessary on two accounts: the prey most acceptable to it abounds there, and no other soil would suit for the

construction of its snare. Its next step is to trace in the sand a circle, which, like the furrow with which Romulus. marked out the limits of his new city, is to determine the extent of its future abode. This being done, it proceeds to excavate the cavity by throwing out the sand in a mode not less singular than effective. Placing itself in the inside of the circle which it has traced, it thrusts the hind part of its body under the sand, and with one of its fore-legs, serving as a shovel, it charges its flat and square head with a load, which it immediately throws over the outside of the circle with a jerk strong enough to carry it to the distance of several inches. This little manœuvre is executed with surprising promptitude and address. A gardener does not operate so quickly or so well with his spade and his foot, as the ant-lion with its head and leg.—Walking backwards, and constantly repeating the process, it soon arrives at the part of the circle from which it set out. It then traces a new one, excavates another furrow in a similar manner, and by a repetition of these operations at length arrives at the centre of its cavity. One circumstance deserves remark-that it never loads its head with the sand lying on the outside of the circle, though it would be as easy to do this with the outward leg, as to remove the sand within the circle by the inner leg. But it knows that it is the sand in the interior of the circle only that is to be excavated, and it therefore constantly uses the leg next the centre. It will readily occur, however, that to use one leg as a shovel exclusively throughout the whole of such a toilsome operation, would be extremely wearisome and painful. For this difficulty our ingenious pioneer has a resource. After

finishing the excavation of one circular furrow, it traces the next in an opposite direction; and thus alternately exercises each of its legs without tiring either.

In the course of its labours it frequently meets with small stones: these it places upon its head one by one, and jerks over the margin of the pit. But sometimes, when near the bottom, a pebble presents itself of a size so large that this process is impossible, its head not being sufficiently broad and strong to bear so great a weight, and the height being too considerable to admit of projecting so large a body to the top. A more impatient labourer would despair, but not so our insect. A new plan is adopted. By a manoeuvre, not easily described, it lifts the stone upon its back, keeps it in a steady position by an alternate motion of the segments which compose that part; and carefully walking up the ascent with the burthen, deposits it on the outside of the margin. When, as occasionally happens, the stone is round, the labour becomes most difficult and painful. A spectator watching the motions of the ant-lion feels an inexpressible interest in its behalf. He sees it with vast exertion elevate the stone, and begin its arduous retrograde ascent: at every moment the burthen totters to one side or the other: the adroit porter lifts up the segments of its back to balance it, and has already nearly reached the top of the pit, when a stumble or a jolt mocks all its efforts, and the stone tumbles headlong to the bottom. Mortified, but not despairing, the ant-lion returns to the charge; again replaces the stone on its back; again ascends the side, and artfully avails himself, for a road, of the channel formed by the falling stone,