THE CARDINAL-SPIDER,

a large and hideous species, found very generally in the palace of Hampton Court. They are called there 'cardinals,' having, it is supposed, been first seen in Cardinal Wolsey's Hall. They are fully an inch in length, according to Mr Jesse's description, and many of them of the thickness of a finger. Their legs are about two inches long, and their body covered with thick hair. They feed chiefly on moths, as appears from the wings of these insects being found in great abundance under and amongst their webs. In running across the carpet in an evening, with the shade cast from their large bodies by the light of the lamp or candle, they have been mistaken for mice, and have occasioned no little alarm to some of the more nervous inhabitants of the palace. This spider is considered a curiosity, and Hampton Court is the only place in which Mr Jesse has met with it.

One cannot read the preceding account without calling to mind the gigantic spider found in the church of St Eustace, at Paris, and which seems to have belonged to the same species. It is told that the sexton of this church was surprised at very often discovering a certain lamp extinguished in the morning, notwithstanding it had been duly replenished with oil the preceding evening. Curious to learn the cause of this mysterious circumstance, he kept watch several evenings, and was at last gratified by the discovery. During the night he observed a spider, of enormous dimensions, come down the chain by which the lamp was suspended, drink up the oil, and, when gorged to satiety, slowly retrace its steps to a recess in the fretwork above. A similar spider is said to have been found, in 1751, in the cathedral church of Milan. It was observed to feed also on oil. When killed, it was sent to the Imperial Museum at Vienna.

THE GARDEN-SPIDER.

The garden-spider (Epeira diadema) is one of the most interesting of the family, both as regards the beauty of its form and that of the web, or rather net, which it weaves. It is the circular net of this species which we so often see glittering among the branches of shrubs and trees, formed with as much art and regularity as the figures which adorn the finest lacework. The manner in which this net is suspended and stayed on every side displays even greater ingenuity than is to be found in the web of the house-spider. When desirous of forming a net, the epeira fixes one end of her thread to the place where she is seated, and then elevating her spinnerets, No. 35.

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throws from them a continued jet of thread, which floats onward until it reaches some adjoining branch, to which by its glutinous nature it adheres. By occasionally feeling the tightness of the

thread, the spider knows when it has fastened, and then she walks backward and forward over it, each time strengthening it by an additional strand. In this way she lays several suspension chains, each properly stayed and tightened, and then proceeds to weave such a network as is shewn in the accompanying figure. We have admitted the ingenuity of the garden-spider in the extension and structure of her net, but can scarcely receive what is stated by Professor Weber of Leipsic in reference to one which he witnessed constructing its meshes between two trees. The three principal points to which it was attached formed, as usual, an equilateral triangle. The two upper threads were fixed to the trunks of the trees; but not finding a point to fix the lower upon, the spider suspended from its extremity a little pebble by way of counterpoise!-the pebble being heavier than the insect, kept the web perfectly extended.

Epeira diadema.

When on the watch for her prey, the epeira sometimes takes her stand motionless in the centre, but more frequently under some leaf, or in some adjoining crevice, to which she has several leading lines directed. She seizes her victim much in the same manner as the house-spider, but is more careful, if possible, of her net. We once discovered a very large net suspended in front of a summerhouse, which was trellised with a rose-bush: the spider was sheltered in a crevice, but the web was exposed and free. Upon throwing a large lively fly on the net, the lurker was instantly out, threw round the buzzing wings of his game a few coils of gossamer, and then seized him, and struck the fatal wound. By struggling, the fly had entangled itself pretty largely in the net, so that it could not be dragged to the den without rending the net from the centre to the circumference. The spider perceiving this dilemma, cut the surrounding meshes, and the fly fell-not to the ground, however; for a strong thread had been provided, and it merely dangled a few inches under the net. The spider then hurried to the mouth of its den, and drew up the fly without difficulty or impediment. Could human reason have done more? This spider we watched for three successive weeks in the same den, and often supplied it with food. A dead fly was apparently no treat; but we have seen it seize five live ones in succession, and drag them to its den, obviously with the

intention of making a hearty meal at leisure. Though busily engaged in feasting, the instant that a buzz was heard on its net, out it sprang, and secured another victim-not, however, without always cautiously reconnoitring the size and strength it had to combat with.

From having frequently remarked that spiders spread their webs in solitary and confined places, to which it is sometimes difficult for flies to penetrate, M. Le Vaillant naturally concluded that these creatures must frequently remain long without food, and that, consequently, they were capable of enduring considerable abstinence. To ascertain the truth of this, he took a large garden-spider, whose abdomen was about the size of a nut, and enclosed it under a bellglass, which he secured with cement round its bottom, and left it in this situation for ten months. Notwithstanding this deprivation of food, it appeared during the whole time equally vigorous and alert, but its abdomen decreased, till at last it was scarcely larger than the head of a pin. He then put under the bell another spider of the same species. For a little while they kept at a respectful distance from each other, and remained motionless; but presently the meagre one, pressed by hunger, approached and attacked the stranger. It returned several times to the charge; and in these different conflicts its enemy became deprived of almost all its claws: it carried these away, and retired to its former situation to devour them. The meagre one had likewise lost three of its own claws, on which also it fed; and M. Le Vaillant perceived that by this repast its plumpness was in some measure restored. The day following, the new-comer, deprived of all its means of defence, fell a complete sacrifice. It was speedily devoured; and in less than twenty-four hours the old inhabitant of the bell became as plump as it was at the first moment of its confinement. There can be no doubt that all the spider tribe are sometimes compelled to practise extreme abstinence; but this less frequently than one would suppose; for during the summer and autumn months (the period when they are chiefly abroad), there are myriads of insects continually passing and repassing on every square foot of soil.

The garden-spider is one of those that weave a bag or envelope for their eggs, in which they carry them till hatched. There is no foundation whatever for the story, told in some 'entertaining books on natural history,' that the female epeira lines this bag with down plucked from her own breast. The truth is, there is no down on her breast to pluck. The envelope is woven of the same material with which she constructs her web; namely, gossamer from her spinnerets. Some animals, it is true-as the eider-duck, rabbit, &c. -pluck down from their own bodies wherewith to line a nest for their young; but the garden-spider is not one of those.

Somewhat resembling the garden-spider in its habits, and constructing also a geometric net, is the

LABYRINTHIC SPIDER.

the Angela labyrinthica of the systematic naturalist. The net of this species is the largest constructed by any European spider, and may be often seen towards the end of summer spread out like a broad sheet in hedges, furze, and other low bushes, and sometimes on the ground. "The middle of this sheet,' says Mr Rennie, 'which is of a close texture, is swung, like a sailor's hammock, by silken ropes extended all around to the higher branches; but the whole curves upward and backward, sloping down to a long funnelshaped gallery, which is nearly horizontal at the entrance, but soon winds obliquely till it becomes quite perpendicular. This curved gallery is about a quarter of an inch in diameter, is much more closely woven than the sheet part of the web, and sometimes descends into a hole in the ground, though oftener into a group of crowded twigs, or a tuft of grass. Here the spider dwells secure, frequently resting with her legs extended from the entrance of the gallery, ready to spring out upon whatever insect may fall into her sheet-net. She herself can only be caught by getting behind her, and forcing her out into the web; but though we have often endeavoured to make her construct a net under our eye, we have been as unsuccessful as in similar experiments with the common house-spider.'

THE JUMPING SPIDERS.

The jumping spiders, which form the genus Salticus of naturalists, do not ensnare their prey by means of a net or web, but are constrained to seize it by their own activity. They are extremely agile; running, then standing still, as if to collect their strength, springing like a grasshopper, and anon raising themselves on their limbs to look around for prey. Should one of these spiders perceive a fly, it moves stealthily and steadily in that direction, endeavouring all the while to conceal itself; and when near its object, pounces upon it, swift as lightning, and strikes the fatal wound. Should the fly move forward, the spider moves simultaneously; and should the former take wing and alight in the vicinity, the little hunter is off in an instant in that direction; and thus, by alternating watching and dodging, seldom fails in securing its prey. Evelyn, in his Travels in Italy, gives an interesting account of the manoeuvres of one of these hunters: 'Of all sorts of insects,' says he, 'there is none has afforded me more divertisement than the venatores (hunters), which are a sort of lupi (wolves), that have their dens in rugged walls and crevices of our houses-a small, brown, and delicately spotted kind of spiders, whose hinder legs are longer than the rest. Such I did frequently observe at Rome, which, espying

a fly at three or four yards' distance upon the balcony where I stood, would not make directly to her, but crawl under the rail, till, being arrived to the antipodes, it would steal up, seldom missing its aim; but if it chanced to want anything of being perfectly opposite, would at first peep, immediately slide down again, till, taking better notice, it would come the next time exactly upon the fly's back. But if this happened not to be within a competent leap, then would this insect move so softly, as the very shadow of the gnomon seemed not to be more imperceptible, unless the fly moved; and then would the spider move also in the same proportion, keeping that just time with her motion, as if the same soul had animated both these little bodies; and whether it were forward, backward, or to either side, without at all turning her body, like a well-managed horse. If, however, the capricious fly took wing, and pitched upon another place behind our huntress, then would the spider whirl its body so nimbly about as nothing could be imagined more swift; by which means she always kept the head towards her prey, though, to appearance, as immovable as if it had been a nail driven into the wood, till, by that indiscernible progress (being arrived within the sphere of her reach), she made a fatal leap, swift as lightning, upon the fly, catching him in the pole, where she never quitted hold till her belly was full, and then dragged the remainder home.'

A correspondent of the Zoologist for 1844 corroborates this account of old Evelyn's, by an anecdote of one of our native hunting spiders (Salticus scenicus)-a species with black and white zebralooking stripes on the upper part of the abdomen, and very common in shrubberies and hedgerows: 'He (the spider) was a very fine fellow, and very lively, and was running about on a large leaf, apparently on the look-out for food. When near the tip of the leaf, a fly alighted at its base: in an instant the spider turned and faced the fly. After steadily pointing for a short time, he sidled off towards the edge of the leaf, but with a motion so slow as to be almost imperceptible, and still keeping his head directed towards the fly. On reaching the edge of the leaf, he quickly turned over, and crept along on the under side, every now and then popping up his head to see how near he could get to his intended victim. When he arrived at what he considered a convenient distance, he returned to the upper side of the leaf, and with one bound cleared the distance (nearly two inches) between himself and the fly; the latter, however, was too quick for him, and flew off at the moment he made his spring, otherwise, so well directed was his aim, that he must have alighted on the fly's back. Poor fellow! he appeared much ashamed of his failure, and slunk away to the shelter of a leaf which hung down on the one where he had been hunting.'

Evelyn also ascribes to these spiders the property of instructing their young how to hunt; but this we consider as apocryphal, believing that their natural instinct is all-sufficient in this respect.