LETTER II. 



THE LOVES O^ THE SPIDERS — THE TOUR — COMPARISONS. 



As I stood at my window the next morning, I perceived m 

 a corner a spider's web. The hunter, who had spread his nets, 

 was busy in repairing the rents caused, either the evening 

 before or that morning, by some prey of an unexpected size, 

 or a desperate resistance. When all was repaired, the spider, 

 which was twice as big and as heavy as the largest fly, ran 

 along the web without breaking a single mesh, and went 

 to conceal itself in an obscure corner, whence it might watch. 

 I observed it for a long time. Two or three flies floating 

 heedlessly about were taken in these perfidious toils, and 

 struggled in vain; the implacable Nimrod darted upon its 

 captives, and sucked them without mercy; after which it 

 repaired one or two damaged threads, and returned to its 

 hiding-place. 



But behold ! another spider of a smaller size. Why has 

 it left its nets and its ambush? Ha ! ha! it is a male, and 

 a male in love; he thinks no longer of the chase, he is like 

 the son of Theseus — 



" My bow, my darts, my car, invite in vain." 



He approaches, and he draws back — ^he loves, he fears. There 



