instances.

f this number the adventures of Robin food, the hunting of Chevy Chase, and he bravery of Johnny Armstrong, among he English; of Kaul Dereg, among the sh; and Creichton, among the Scots, Of all the traditions, hower, I remember to have heard, I do not collect any more remarkable than one all current in Flanders; a story generally the first the peasants tell their children, hen they bid them behave like Bidderman the wise. It is by no means, howver, a model to be set before a polite people for imitation; since if, on the one , we perceive in it the steady influence patriotism, we, on the other, find as rong a desire of revenge. But, to waive troduction, let us to the story. When the Saracens overran Europe with their armies, and penetrated as far even Antwerp, Bidderman was lord of a city which time has since swept into destrucon. As the inhabitants of this country were divided under separate leaders, the Saracens found an easy conquest, and the y of Bidderman, among the rest, became prey to the victors.

Thus dispossessed of his paternal city, unfortunate governor was obliged to ek refuge from the neighbouring princes, ho were as yet unsubdued, and he for ne time lived in a state of wretched pendence among them.

Soon, however, his love to his native antry brought him back to his own city, solved to rescue it from the enemy, or in the attempt: thus in disguise he ent among the inhabitants, and endeared, but in vain, to excite them to a volt. Former misfortunes lay so heavily their minds, that they rather chose to fer the most cruel bondage, than at

mpt to vindicate their former freedom.

As he was thus one day employed, whether by information or from suspicion not known, he was apprehended by Saracen soldier as a spy, and brought efore the very tribunal at which he once resided. The account he gave of him

elf was

by no means satisfactory. He uld produce no friends to vindicate his Saracter; wherefore, as the Saracens new not their prisoner, and as they had direct proofs against him, they were

content with condemning him to be publicly whipped as a vagabond.

The execution of this sentence was accordingly performed with the utmost rigour. Bidderman was bound to the post, the executioner seeming disposed to add to the cruelty of the sentence, as he received no bribe for lenity. Whenever Bidderman groaned under the scourge, the other, redoubling his blows, cried out, "Does the villain murmur?" If Bidderman entreated but a moment's respite from torture, the other only repeated his former exclamation, "Does the villain murmur?"

From this period revenge, as well as patriotism, took entire possession of his soul. His fury stooped so low as to follow the executioner with unremitting resentment. But, conceiving that the best method to attain these ends was to acquire some eminence in the city, he laid himself out to oblige its new masters, studied every art, and practised every meanness, that serve to promote the needy or render the poor pleasing; and by these means, in a few years, he came to be of some note in the city, which justly belonged entirely to him.

The executioner was, therefore, the first object of his resentment, and he even practised the lowest fraud to gratify the revenge he owed him. A piece of plate, which Bidderman had previously stolen from the Saracen governor, he privately conveyed into the executioner's house, and then gave information of the theft. They who are any way acquainted with the rigour of the Arabian laws know that theft is punished with immediate death. The proof was direct in this case; the executioner had nothing to offer in his own defence; and he was therefore condemned to be beheaded upon a scaffold in the public market-place. As there was no executioner in the city but the very man who was now to suffer, Bidderman himself undertook this, to him, most agreeable office. The criminal was conducted from the judgment seat, bound with cords: the scaffold was erected, and he placed in such a manner as he might lie most convenient for the blow.

But his death alone was not sufficient

to satisfy the resentment of this extraordinary man, unless it was aggravated with every circumstance of cruelty. Wherefore, coming up the scaffold, and disposing everything in readiness for the intended blow, with the sword in his hand he approached the criminal, and, whispering in a low voice, assured him that he himself was the person that had once been used with so much cruelty; that, to his knowledge, he died very innocently, for the plate had been stolen by himself, and privately conveyed into the house of the other.

"Oh, my countrymen!" cried the criminal, do you hear what this man says?"-"Does the villain murmur?" replied Bidderman, and immediately, at one blow, severed his head from his body. Still, however, he was not content, till he had ample vengeance of the governors of the city, who condemned him. To effect this, he hired a small house adjoining to the town wall, under which he every day dug, and carried out the earth in a basket. In this unremitting labour he continued several years, every day digging a little, and carrying the earth unsuspected away. By this means he at last made a secret communication from the country into the city, and only wanted the appearance of an enemy in order to betray it. This opportunity at length offered: the French army came into the neighbourhood, but had no thoughts of sitting down before a town which they considered as impregnable. Bidderman, however, soon altered their resolutions, and upon communicating his plan to the general, he embraced it with ardour. Through the private passage above mentioned he introduced a large body of the most resolute soldiers, who soon opened the gates for the rest, and the whole army rushing in, put every Saracen that was found to the sword.

THE SAGACITY OF SOME INSECTS.

To the Author of the Bee.

SIR, Animals, in general, are sagacious in proportion as they cultivate society. The elephant and the beaver show the greatest signs of this when united; but

when man intrudes into their communities they lose all their spirit of industry, are testify but a very small share of the sagacity for which, when in a SOCIA state, they are so remarkable.

Among insects, the labours of the be and the ant have employed the attention and admiration of the naturalist; ba their whole sagacity is lost upon sepa ration, and a single bee or ant seem destitute of every degree of industry, the most stupid insect imaginable, lan guishes for a time in solitude, and sou dies.

Of all the solitary insects I have eve remarked, the spider is the most saga cious; and its actions, to me who have attentively considered them, seem almos to exceed belief. This insect is formed by nature for a state of war, not only upon other insects, but upon each other. For this state nature seems perfectly wel to have formed it. Its head and breast are covered with a strong natural coat of mail, which is impenetrable to the attempts of every other insect, and its belly is enveloped in a soft pliant skin. which eludes the sting even of a wasp. Its legs are terminated by strong claus not unlike those of a lobster; and their vast length, like spears, serves to keep every assailant at a distance.

Not worse furnished for observation than for an attack or a defence, it has seve ral eyes, large, transparent, and covered with a horny substance, which, however does not impede its vision. Besides this it is furnished with a forceps above th mouth, which serves to kill or secure th prey already caught in its claws or it

net.

Such are the implements of war with which the body is immediately furnished. but its net to entangle the enemy seems what it chiefly trusts to, and what it takes most pains to render as complete as pos sible. Nature has furnished the body of this little creature with a glutinous liquid, which, proceeding from the anus, it spins into thread, coarser or finer as it chooses to contract or dilate its sphincter. In order to fix its thread, when it begins to weave it emits a small drop of its liquid against the wall, which, hardening by

gees, serves to hold the thread very aly; then receding from the first point, it recedes the thread lengthens; and, en the spider has come to the place ere the other end of the thread should fixed, gathering up with its claws the ad, which would otherwise be too k, it is stretched tightly, and fixed in same manner to the wall as before. In this manner it spins and fixes several s parallel to each other, which, so speak, serve as the warp to the inand web. To form the woof, it spins |the same manner its thread, transely fixing one end to the first thread was spun, and which is always the gest of the whole web, and the other the wall. All these threads, being y spun, are glutinous, and therefore k to each other wherever they happen ach; and, in those parts of the web exposed to be torn, our natural Est strengthens them, by doubling the ads sometimes sixfold.

Thus far naturalists have gone in the ription of this animal; what follows the result of my own observation upon species of the insect called a house der. I perceived, about four years a large spider in one corner of my a, making its web; and, though the frequently levelled her fatal broom nst the labours of the little animal, I the good fortune then to prevent its struction; and, I may say, it more than d me by the entertainment it afforded. in three days the web was, with intible diligence, completed; nor could void thinking, that the insect seemed exult in its new abode. It frequently versed it round, examined the strength every part of it, retired into its hole, d came out very frequently. The first my, however, it had to encounter, was other and a much larger spider, which, ring no web of its own, and having bably exhausted all its stock in former tours of this kind, came to invade the perty of its neighbour. Soon, then, errible encounter ensued, in which the rader seemed to have the victory, and elaborious spider was obliged to take fage in its hole. Upon this I perceived e victor using every art to draw the

enemy from his stronghold. He seemed to go off, but quickly returned; and when he found all arts in vain, began to demolish the new web without mercy. This brought on another battle, and, contrary to my expectations, the laborious spider became conqueror, and fairly killed his antagonist.

Now, then, in peaceable possession of what was justly its own, it waited three days with the utmost impatience, repairing the breaches of its web, and taking no sustenance that I could perceive. At last, however, a large blue fly fell into the snare, and struggled hard to get loose. The spider gave it leave to entangle itself as much as possible, but it seemed to be too strong for the cobweb. I must own I was greatly surprised when I saw the spider immediately sally out, and in less than a minute weave a new net round its captive, by which the motion of its wings was stopped; and when it was fairly hampered in this manner, it was seized and dragged into the hole.

In this manner it lived, in a precarious state; and nature seemed to have fitted it for such a life, for upon a single fly it subsisted for more than a week. I once put a wasp into the net; but when the spider came out in order to seize it as usual, upon perceiving what kind of an enemy it had to deal with, it instantly broke all the bands that held it fast, and contributed all that lay in its power to disengage so formidabic an antagonist. When the wasp was a. liberty, I expected the spider would have set about repairing the breaches that were made in its net; but those, it seems, were irreparable; wherefore the cobweb was now entirely forsaken, and a new one begun, which was completed in the usual time.

I had now a mind to try how many cobwebs a single spider could furnish; wherefore I destroyed this, and the insect set about another. When I destroyed the other also, its whole stock seemed entirely exhausted, and it could spin no more. The arts it made use of to support itself, now deprived of its great means of subsistence, were indeed surprising. I have seen it roll up its legs like a ball, and lie motionless for hours together, but cautiously

watching all the time: when a fly happened to approach sufficiently near, it would dart out all at once, and often seize its prey.

Of this life, however, it soon began to grow weary, and resolved to invade the possession of some other spider, since it could not make a web of its own. It formed an attack upon a neighbouring fortification with great vigour, and at first was as vigorously repulsed. Not daunted, however, with one defeat, in this manner it continued to lay siege to another's web for three days, and at length, having killed the defendant, actually took possession. When smaller flies happen to fall into the snare, the spider does not sally out at once, but very patiently waits till it is sure of them; for, upon his immediately approaching, the terror of his appearance might give the captive strength sufficient to get loose: the manner then is to wait patiently till, by ineffectual and impotent struggles, the captive has wasted all its strength, and then he becomes a certain and easy conquest.

The insect I am now describing lived three years; every year it changed its skin, and got a new set of legs. I have sometimes plucked off a leg, which grew again in two or three days. At first it dreaded my approach to its web, but at last it became so familiar as to take a fly out of my hand; and upon my touching any part of the web, would immediately leave its hole, prepared either for a defence or an attack.

To complete this description, it may be observed, that the male spiders are much less than the female, and that the latter are oviparous. When they come to lay, they spread a part of their web under the eggs, and then roll them up carefully, as we roll up things in a cloth, and thus hatch them in their hole. If disturbed in their holes, they never attempt to escape without carrying this young brood in their forceps away with them, and thus frequently are sacrificed to their parental affection.

As soon as ever the young ones leave their artificial covering, they begin to spin, and almost sensibly seem to grow bigger. If they have the good fortune, when even

but a day old, to catch a fly, they fal with good appetites; but they live sa times three or four days without any of sustenance, and yet still continue grow larger, so as every day to do their former size. As they grow old, h ever, they do not still continue to incre but their legs only continue to grow long and when a spider becomes entirely with age, and unable to seize its prey dies at length of hunger.

THE CHARACTERISTICS OF
GREATNESS.

IN every duty, in every science in wh we would wish to arrive at perfection, should propose for the object of our p suit some certain station even bey our abilities-some imaginary excellen which may amuse and serve to anir our inquiry. In deviating from others following an unbeaten road, though perhaps may never arrive at the wishe for object, yet it is possible we may m several discoveries by the way; and t certainty of small advantages, even wh we travel with security, is not so amusi as the hopes of great rewards, which inspi the adventurer. "Evenit nonnunquam says Quintilian, "ut aliquid grande inv niat qui semper quærit quod nimium est

This enterprising spirit is, however, no means the character of the pres age; every person who should now lea received opinions, who should attempt be more than a commentator upon ph sophy, or an imitator in polite learnin might be regarded as a chimerical p jector. Hundreds would be ready not of to point out his errors, but to load b with reproach. Our probable opini are now regarded as certainties; the di culties hitherto undiscovered as utter inscrutable; and the writers of the la age inimitable, and therefore the proper models of imitation.

One might be almost induced to deno the philosophic spirit of the age, whic in proportion as it enlightens the min increases its timidity, and represses t vigour of every undertaking. Men a now content with being prudently in t right; which, though not the way to mal new acquisitions, it must be owned is t