forty--making a difference of twenty degrees. Soon after this she closed her domicile with a canopy of thick close web. She also drew in a few sticks and straws.

There is a great difference in the size of mature individuals of this species. I have never found any specimens in New Jersey that would at all compare in size with four that were sent me from New Hampshire. The male, like others of its class, has very long legs, as may be seen from his photograph, and, poor fellow, he may often need them in making long strides to get out of the reach of his lady-love, who is not very even-tempered, sometimes petting him, at others savagely attacking him. The best builders in my menagerie are Tarantula tigrina, McCook, and T. turricula; but there is a marked difference in individuals even of the same species; and I am inclined to think that parentage tells with spiders as well as with the higher animals. The first brood which left my famous pet tower-builder, early in July, have built their little towers as neatly as the mother, and precisely in the same way; while some others of this species rake together whatever they can procure, without order or method. A fine builder of T. turricula, however, far outstrips T. tigrina, and the winter covering over the home of a good tower-builder is carefully made. Small sticks are laid side by side, and held together with web, forming a firm roof, which is lined on the inside with a thick silken web. But probably all of the various species dig and dispose of the earth in the same way.

Among the New Hampshire spiders sent was a small one-unknown to me-taken from a burrow sixteen inches deep. I put it in a glass jar with five inches of moist earth well pressed down. It soon commenced to dig a burrow next to the glass, giving me a fine opportunity to see it work. It dug the earth loose with its mandibles and fore-feet, and then turned, and with its spinneret made the earth into a pellet; it again turns, seizes the pellet in its mandibles, necessitating a third turn, and now comes to the edge of the tube, always with its back to the glass, and adjusts its fore-feet so that the tips touch beneath and partly behind the ball of earth, and with a sudden movement of the feet, like the snapping of a finger, it shoots the

earth with sufficient force to make it hit the opposite side of the jar. I take some of the pellets, and find that the earth is

held together with a kind of mucilage, and sometimes mixed with web.

This little creature-only about half an inch in length-was the fastest worker of any I have on record. In four hours she had dug to the depth of three inches, never stopping for a moment, although the jar sat on the table near the lamp, where I was moving books and papers, and part of the time conversing with a friend, yet nothing diverted her from the main business of establishing a home. In the morning she had reached the bottom of the jar, and was not satisfied, so I put her with the rest, where her energy and perseverance might have full scope. The ground was in good condition, and she very soon commenced a second burrow. She has not covered her retreat, and every pleasant day-now December-she comes up and looks around; she is under glass, which makes it quite warm when the sun shines.

The greatest perfection of tubular nests, however, culminates with spiders that live in warm countries, and make trap-doors with bevelled edges that fit into the top of the tube perfectly; and the spider, when pursued by an enemy, can shut the door tightly, and hold it fast with its two front pairs of legs. It inserts its claws into holes made near the edge of the door, and braces itself so firmly against the walls of its tube, and holds on with such pertinacity, that the cover can not be raised without tearing it.

These curious nests are often brought from Southern California, but the spiders which construct them do not take kindly to confinement, at least in the North.

WHEN?

WHEN vanished is this vapor we call life,

And all the storms that vex us disappearSorrow's sharp thorn, the weary wheel of strife, And all the miseries we feel or fear

When of the "day far spent" a night is born, Shall we who see the glory of such mornBefore there dawns a day that knows no night,

Shall we recall, upon that dazzling height,
One touch of this wild warfare of the earth,
The wounds that scarred us, or the tears we wept,

The sin that so beset us from our birth,
The woes, the wrongs, the cares that never slept?
Or will there be a gap betwixt that Time

And this Eternity which numbs the sense,
As after sudden ceasing of some chime
Forbear to question, O mine idle thought;
A lengthened pause makes rest the more intense?

Where were our faith if all were come to sight? "Avoid vain babblings"-thus much are we taught. 'Twere vain to breathe them, yet I long for light.

porated in 1870. It originated with a number of gentlemen in New York who were lovers of art, and who were sensibly alive to the truth that art is not only a civilizer of those who study it, but that its love by a people leads to the establishment of art industries, the employment of capital and labor, and the increase of wealth among artists, artisans, and art purchasers. It was not their purpose to found an institution which should be a lounging-place for the lazy, and afford only occupation to those who enjoy airing their knowledge or their ignorance by what is popularly called criticism. They conceived an art museum which should be practically useful, teaching the history of art, which is the history of man in what he has made, and furnishing to the present age the opportunity of learning by personal inspection what their predecessors had done, and what they might themselves equal and surpass.

The plan to be adopted in founding such an institution, as might be expected, called out a vast amount of advice and a great many different views. The trustees of the Museum listened to all that was said, examined the subject, considered the possibilities of the work they had under

allel in the history of public institutions. They have not only worked together with entire agreement of views, but they have provided the means for the ends, and supplied from their own purses the large deficiencies which resulted after applications to the public for the necessary funds. By the last annual report (1879) it appears that of the moneys contributed to the funds of the Museum, about one-fourth has been given by trustees.

In founding such an institution, it can easily be imagined how one class of advisers might suppose the true plan to be the formation of a gallery of paintings by modern artists, selecting, of course, only such examples as are most highly prized by connoisseurs, and of which twenty or thirty might be bought for all the money the trustees could raise in ten years. Another class would have the Museum devote itself exclusively to the patronage of American art, and the exhibition of its progress; another would have them gather nothing but the very finest specimens of the greatest artists of all time; another could see no fine art in any works but sculpture and painting; and when it comes to the selection of examples of these arts, there would always be a hundred

tomed to rely. The merit of the several pictures was a matter of independent art judgment of lovers of pictures in general, as well as of those who think themselves qualified with special ability to see and taste to determine beauty. These collections, with the addition of a few paintings purchased singly, and one or two which were presented to the Museum, were united, and opened to view at a hall, No. 681 Fifth Avenue, where the Museum of Art may be said to have commenced its public existence.

Of course the old masters were roundly abused by all classes of critics whose advice had not been taken in the plans of

There are few, if any, public galleries of historical art which do not contain a great many poor pictures to one good one. Students who know the great European galleries know this, and know also that the history of a school of painting can not be shown without showing many inferior works. The best efforts of artists are not always to be procured at any price. There is great difference of opinion as to what pictures best illustrate the power of an artist or of a school. When the best works can not be had, the next best must be sought for new museums. This collection, after surviving the criticism of friends and foes, has grown into favor

his own expense, were the first American explorations among the remains of European and Asiatic art. The trustees of the Museum of Art recognized the opportunity, and much swifter to decide than European governments, purchased the first Cesnola collection from under the eyes of the archæologists of Europe, who, in Germany, Russia, France, and England, were anxious for its possession. It was in many respects a most important and fortunate purchase. No museums in the world had any connected illustrations of the origins of Greek art. The Cesnola collection was a history of those origins in Phoenician art, hitherto practically unknown. The general continued his excavations, and gathered a new collection, largely adding to the value of his former discoveries, especially in his marvellous find of the treasure vaults of the temple of Kurium, which has been heretofore described in this Magazine.

When the Museum of Art became possessed of the first Cesnola collection, it was necessary to find a more roomy location than the gallery in Fifth Avenue. The old Douglas mansion in Fourteenth Street, near Sixth Avenue, was leased, and the Cypriote works were there exposed to

public view in the year 1873. At this time a loan exhibition was commenced as a feature of the Museum. It seems now a matter of surprise that such serious doubt had existed, outside of the Museum, as to the possibility of finding in American houses any variety of works of art worthy a place in a public museum. Such an exhibition had always been contemplated, but the experiment would not have been tried had the trustees listened to the assurances of many who had great contempt for Americans as appreciators of art. They did not believe the private houses of New York contained anything worth borrowing. The loan exhibition was limited only by the small amount of room at its disposal in Fourteenth Street; and it demonstrated beyond question that our people are vastly richer in works of fine art in all departments than any one had imagined. This exhibition proved to be of the highest practical advantage to the public. If any evidence were needed of the pecuniary value of such a museum, it was found in the effect produced in New York, in four years, on the commerce of the city in the single article of porcelains and potteries.

Before the exhibitions of the Museum,