is, however, that when the likeness is between some creature and a plant or inanimate object, scientists do not say that the former mimics the latter, but that it resembles it. They can put up with the right word then, but not, it appears, in the other case. Yet there is no essential distinction between the two, and the process by which each has been brought about, is identical. So, as one butterfly, say, does really resemble another, but does not really mimic it, why cannot learned gentlemen use the right word here too, instead of speaking a language which neither accords with the fact, nor expresses their real meaning? Even if it does come more pat to describe a thing badly, is it not, nevertheless, better to describe it well? So I say, with Hotspur— “Oh, while you live tell truth and shame the devil.” For my part I think it is only permissible to use the word “mimic,” in this relation, in order to give a vivid impression, not indeed of the thing, but of what the thing seems to be—to arouse interest in it, in fact, which is why I have done so here. But when the process is known the word had better be dropped—at least, in works that really profess to be scientific. This, of course, does not. CHAPTER XIII SPIDERS AND THEIR WEBS—TRAP-DOOR SPIDERS—SPIDERS THAT EAT BIRDS—AQUATIC SPIDERS—BORN IN A DIVING-BELL. Though we have already had something to say about spiders, they are such interesting creatures that we may as well devote a few pages more to them—especially as the web, which is their most salient peculiarity, has as yet hardly been mentioned. The beauty and ingenuity of this wonderful fabric has always aroused the interest and admiration of mankind, and will doubtless continue to do so, as long as spiders and men exist together on the earth. Our own common garden or geometric spider is as good a web-spinner, perhaps, as any that exists, or, if not, it is at least as good as any that I can think of at the moment. Everyone is familiar with the general appearance of the web and the mathematical regularity of its outline, whilst all who have watched its construction must have been astonished at the skill displayed by the spider, both in the weaving and placing of it. It is composed of two separate parts, the first, or framework, consisting of a number of stout, yet delicate, cables, which radiate outwards from a common centre, whilst around them a finer thread, quite distinct in its structure, is wound spirally, in wider and wider circles, the last of which makes the circumference. The quality of the thread, composing these two divisions of the web, is as distinct as the parts themselves, for whereas “the radiating lines are smooth and not very elastic, the spiral one is thickly studded with minute knobs, and is elastic to a wonderful degree, reminding the observer of a thread of india-rubber. It is to the little projections that the efficacy of the net is due, for they are composed of a thick