many cases; while the fact that the males of these spiders are always more brilliant than their mates suggests again that the brilliancy is wrapped up along with the mystery of maleness, which it is not sufficient to define merely as superabundant vitality, or as greater activity, but rather as a tendency towards a relative increase of destructive or disruptive vital changes over those which are constructive or conservative. But the problem is very complex, and dogmatic conclusions are premature. We need to know the chemical nature and history of the pigments to which the colour is due; we need to have an approximate balance-sheet of the income and expenditure of the two sexes. Enough of this, however; let us return to the pictures. We talk about romancelisten to these patient observers :

FIG. 22.-Two male spiders (Habrocestum splendens to the left, and Astia vittata to the right) displaying themselves before their mates. (After G. W. and E. G. Peckham.)

"On reaching the country we found that the males of Saitis pulex were mature and were waiting for the females, as is the way with both spiders and insects. In this species there is but little difference between the sexes. On May 24th we found a mature female and placed her in one of the larger boxes, and the next day we put a male in with her. He saw her as she stood perfectly still, twelve inches away. The glance seemed to excite him, and he at once moved toward her. When some four inches from her he stood still, and then began the most remarkable performances that an amorous male could offer to an admiring female. She eyed him eagerly, changing her position from time to time, so that he might always be in view. He, raising his whole body on one side by straightening out the legs, and lowering it on the other by fold

ing the first two pairs of legs up and under, leaned so far over as to be in danger of losing his balance, which he only maintained by sidling rapidly toward the lowered side. The palpus, too, on this side was turned back to correspond to the direction of the legs nearest it. He moved in a semicircle of about two inches, and then instantly reversed the position of the legs and circled in the opposite direction, gradually approaching nearer and nearer to the female. Now she dashes toward him, while he, raising his first pair of legs, extends them upward and forward as if to hold her off, but withal slowly retreats. Again and again he circles from side to side, she gazing toward him in a softer mood, evidently admiring the grace of his antics. This is repeated until we have counted one hundred and eleven circles made by the ardent little male. he approaches nearer and nearer, and when almost within reach whirls madly around and around her, she joining and whirling with him in a giddy maze. Again he falls back, and resumes his semicircular motions with his body tilted over; she, all excitement, lowers her head and raises her body, so that it is almost vertical. Both draw nearer, she moves slowly under him, he crawling over her head, and the mating is accomplished." The males are quarrelsome and fight with

Now

one another; but after watching "hundreds of seemingly terrible battles " between the males of twelve different species, the observers were forced to the conclusion that " they are all sham affairs gotten up for the purpose of displaying before the females, who commonly stand by interested spectators." "It seemed cruel sport at first to put eight or ten males (of Dendryphantes capitatus) into a box to see them fight, but it was soon apparent that they were very prudent little fellows, and were fully conscious that he who fights and runs away will live to fight another day.' In fact, after two weeks of hard fighting we were unable to discover one wounded warrior. single female (of Phidippus morsitans) that we caught during the

FIG. 23.-Two male spiders (Zygoballus bettini) fighting. (After G. W. and E. G. Peckham.)

The

FIG. 24.-Male argus pheasant displaying its plumage. (From Darwin.)

summer was a savage monster. The two males that we provided for her had offered her only the merest civilities when she leaped

upon them and killed them." "The female of Dendryphantes elegans is much larger than the male, and her loveliness is accompanied by an extreme irritability of temper, which the male seems to regard as a constant menace to his safety; but his eagerness being great, and his manners devoted and tender, he gradually overcomes her opposition. Her change of mood is only brought about after much patient courting on his part." In other species (Philæus militaris) the males take possession of young females and keep guard over them until they become mature. We sometimes hear of courtship by telephone. In the Epeiridæ spiders "it seems to be carried on, to some extent at least, by a vibration of web lines," as M'Cook and Termeyer have also observed.

Surely it is a long gamut this, from a mammal's clamant call and forcible wooing, or from the sweet persuasiveness of our singing birds, and the fluttering displays of others, to the trembling of a thread in the web of a spider. But, however varied be the pitch of the song and the form of the dance, all are expressions of love.

as

Mates are also attracted to one another by odours. These are best known in mammals (e.g. beaver and civet) and in reptiles; they predominate in the males, and at the breeding season. They usually proceed from skin glands; but we understand little about them. They serve incense or as stimulant, but perhaps this usefulness is secondary. The zoologist Jaeger regards the odoriferous substances in plants and animals as characteristic of and essentially associated with each life; but without going so far we may recognise that in the general life of flowers and animals alike odours are very important. We know, too, that certain odours make much impression upon us; such as those of hawthorn and of the hay-field, of newlymown grass and of withered leaves, of violet and of lavender; and furthermore, that in some mysterious way some fragrances excite or soothe the system, and have become associated with sexual and other emotions.

2. Love and Care for Offspring. Gradual as the incoming of spring has been the blossoming of parental love among animals. We cannot tell in what forms it first appeared in distinctness. We cannot say Lo here! or Lo there! for it is latent in them all.

In many of the lower animals the units which begin new lives are readily separated from the parent; but in others, e.g. some of the simplest, or some by no means simple "worms," and even some insects, the parent life disappears in giving birth to the young. Reproduction or the continuance of the species often involves a sacrifice of the individual life.

It is strangely true, even in the highest forms, that reproduction, though a blossoming of the whole life, is also the beginning of death. It is costly, and brings death as well as life in its train. This is tragically illustrated by many insects, such as butterflies, who die soon after reproducing, though often not before they have, in obedience to instinctive impulse, cared most effectively for their eggs— the results of which they do not live to see. Think also of the mayflies, or Ephemerida, who, after a prolonged aquatic life as larvæ, become winged, dance in the sunlight for an hour, mate and reproduce, and die.

Picture the long larval life in the water, and the short aerial happiness lasting for an evening or two. Long life, compared with the span of many other insects, but short love; there may be years of patience, and but a day of pleasure; great preparations, and the anti-climax of death. The eggs lie half conscious in the water, faintly stirred by the growing life within, lapped round about by peace, — though the trout thin them sorely. In the survivors the embryos become conscious, awaken from their rocking, and turn themselves in their cradles. See the larvæ creep forth, wash themselves gaily in the water, and hungrily fall upon their prey, some smaller insects. The little "water-wings" grow, and the air soaks into the blood; the larvæ cast their skins many times, and hide from the fishes. At length comes the final moult, and the making of the air-wings, of which in the summer evening you may see the first short flight as the insects rise like a living mist from the pool. But even yet a thin veil, too truly suggestive of a shroud, encumbers them; and they rest wearily on the grass or on the branches of the willow. Watch them writhe and jerk, as if