Chapter 24

[169]Evelyn’s Travels in Italy.

We have only to add to this lively narrative, that the hunting-spider, when he leaps, takes good care to provide against accidental falls by always swinging himself from a good strong cable of silk, as Swammerdam correctly states[170], and which anybody may recognise, as one of the small hunters (Salticus scenicus), known by its back striped with black and white like a zebra.

[170]Book of Nature, part i. p. 24.

Mr. Weston, the editor of “Bloomfield’s Remains,” falls into a very singular mistake about hunting-spiders, imagining them to be web-weaving ones which have exhausted their materials, and are therefore compelled to hunt. In proof of this he gives an instance which came under his own observation[171]!

“As a contrast,” says Mr. Rennie, “to the little elastic satin nest of the hunter, we may mention the largest with which we are acquainted,—that of the labyrinthic spider (Agelena labyrinthica,Walckenaer). Our readers must often have seen this nest spread out like a broad sheet in hedges, furze, and other low bushes, and sometimes on the ground. The middle of this sheet, which is of a close texture, is swung like a sailor’s hammock, bysilkenropes extended all around to the higher branches; but the whole curves upwards and backwards, sloping down to a long funnel-shaped gallery which is nearly horizontal at the entrance, but soon winds obliquely till it becomes quite perpendicular. This curved gallery is about a quarter of an inch in diameter, is much more closely woven than the sheet part of the web, and sometimes descends into a hole in the ground, though oftener into a group of crowded twigs, or a tuft of grass. Here the spider dwells secure, frequently resting with her legs extended from the entrance of the gallery, ready to spring out upon whatever insect may fall into her sheet net. She herself can only be caught by getting behind her and forcing her out into the web; but though wehave often endeavored to make her construct a nest under our eye, we have been as unsuccesful as in similar experiments with the common house spider (Aranea domestica).

“The house spider’s proceedings were long ago described by Homberg, and the account has been copied, as usual, by almost every subsequent writer. Goldsmith has, indeed, given some strange mis-statements from his own observations, and Bingley has added the original remark, that, after fixing its first thread, creeping along the wall, and joining it as it proceeds, it ‘darts itself to the opposite side, where the other end is to be fastened[172]!’ Homberg’s spider took the more circuitous route of travelling to the opposite wall, carrying in one of its claws the end of the thread previously fixed, lest it should stick in the wrong place. This we believe to be the correct statement, for as the web is always horizontal, it would seldom answer to commit a floating thread to the wind, as is done by other species. Homberg’s spider, after stretching as many lines by way ofwarpas it deemed sufficient between the two walls of the corner which it had chosen, proceeded to cross this in the way our weavers do in adding thewoof, with this difference, that the spider’s threads were only laid on, and not interlaced[173]. The domestic spiders, however, in these modern days, must have forgot this mode of weaving, for none of their webs will be found thus regularly constructed!”

[171]Bloomfield’s Remains, vol. ii. p. 64,note.[172]Animal Biography, iii. 470, 471.[173]Mem. de l’Acad. des Sciences, pour 1707, p. 339.

[171]Bloomfield’s Remains, vol. ii. p. 64,note.

[172]Animal Biography, iii. 470, 471.

[173]Mem. de l’Acad. des Sciences, pour 1707, p. 339.

The geometric, or net-working spiders (See Fig. 12.Plate IV.) are as well known as any of the preceding; almost every bush and tree in our gardens and hedge-rows having one or more of their nests stretched out in a vertical position between adjacent branches. The common garden spider (Epeira diadema), and the long-bodied spider (Tetragnatha extensa), are the best known of this order.

“The chief care of a spider of this sort,” says Mr. Rennie, “is, to form a cable of sufficient strength to bear the net she means to hang upon it; and after throwing out a floating line as above described, when it catches properly, she doubles andredoubles it with additional threads. On trying its strength she is not contented with the test of pulling it with her legs, but drops herself down several feet from various points of it, as we have often seen, swinging and bobbing with the whole weight of her body. She proceeds in a similar manner with the rest of the frame of her wheel-shaped net; and it may be remarked that some of the ends of these lines are not simple, but in form of a Y, giving her the additional security of two attachments instead of one.”

In constructing the body of the nest, the most remarkable circumstance is the using of her limbs as a measure, to regulate the distances of herradiior wheel-spokes (See Fig. 12.Plate IV., which represents the geometric net of the “Epeira diadema”), and the circular meshes interwoven into them. These are consequently always proportional to the size of the spider. She often takes up her station in the centre, but not always, though it is so said by inaccurate writers; but she as frequently lurks in a little chamber constructed under a leaf or other shelter at the corner of her web, ready to dart down upon whatever prey may be entangled in her net. The centre of the net is said also to be composed of more viscid materials than its suspensory lines,—a circumstance alleged to be proved by the former appearing under the microscrope studded with globules of gum[174]. “We have not been able,” says Mr. Rennie, “to verify this distinction, having seen the suspensory lines as often studded in this manner as those in the centre.”

[174]Kirby and Spence, Intr. i. 419.

At the commencement of the last century a method was discovered in France by Monsieur Bon, of procuring silk from spiders’ bags, and its use was attempted in the manufacture of several articles. Mr. Bon has, however, noticed onlytwokinds of silk-making spiders, and these he has distinguished from each other as having either long or short legs, the last variety producing the finest quality of raw silk. According to this ingenious observer, the silk formed by these insects is equally beautiful, strong, and glossy with that formed by the silk-worm. When first formed, the color of these spiders’ bags is gray, but,by exposure to the air, they soon acquire a blackish hue. Other spider bags might probably be found of different colors, and affording silk of better quality, but their scarcity would render any experiment with them difficult of accomplishment; for which reason M. Bon confined his attention to the bags of the common sort of the short-legged kind.

These always form their bags in some place sheltered from the wind and rain, such as the hollow trunks of trees, the corners of windows or vaults, or under the eaves of houses. A quantity of the bags was collected from which a new kind of silk was made, said to be in no respect inferior to the produce of the silk-worm. It took readily all kinds of dyes, and might have been wrought into any description of silken fabric. Mr. Bon had stockings and gloves made from it, some of which he presented to the Royal Academy of Paris, and others he transmitted to the Royal Society of London.

This silk was prepared in the following manner:—Twelve or thirteen ounces of the bags were beaten with a stick, until they became entirely freed from dust. They were next washed in warm water, which was continually changed, until it no longer became clouded or discolored by the bags under process. After this they were steeped in a large quantity of water wherein soap, saltpetre, and gum-arabic had been dissolved. The whole was then gently boiled during three hours, after which the bags were rinsed in clear warm water to discharge the soap. They were finally set out to dry, previous to the operation of carding, which was then performed with cards differing from those usually employed with silk, being much finer. By these means silk of a peculiar ash color was obtained, which was spun without difficulty. Mr. Bon affirmed that the thread was both stronger and finer than common silk, and that therefore fabrics similar to those made with the latter material might be manufactured from this, there being no reason for doubting that it would stand any trials of the loom, after having undergone those of the stocking frame.

The only obstacle, therefore, which appeared to prevent the establishing of any considerable manufacture from these spider bags was the difficulty of obtaining them in sufficient abundance.Mr. Bon fancied that this objection could soon be overcome, and that the art of domesticating and rearing spiders, as practised with silk-worms, was to be attained. Carried away by the enthusiasm of one who, having made a discovery, pursues it with ardor undismayed by difficulties, he met every objection by comparisons, which perhaps were not wholly and strictly founded on fact. Contrasted with the spider, and to favor his arguments, the silk-worm in his hands made a very despicable figure. He affirmed that the female spider produces 600 or 700 eggs; while of the 100, to which number he limited the silk-worm, not more than one-half were reared to produce balls. That the spiders hatched spontaneously, without any care, in the months of August and September; that the old spiders dying soon after they have laid their eggs, the young ones live for ten or twelve months without food, and continue in their bags without growing, until the hot weather, by putting their viscid juices in motion, induces them to come forth, spin, and run about in search of food.

Mr. Bon’s spider establishment, was managed in the following manner:—having ordered all the short-legged spiders which could be collected by persons employed for the purpose, to be brought to him, he inclosed them in paper coffins and pots; these were covered with papers, which, as well as the coffins, were pricked over their surface with pin-holes to admit air to the prisoners. The insects were duly fed with flies, and after some time it was found on inspection that the greater part of them had formed their bags. This advocate for the rearing of spiders contended that spiders’ bags afforded much more silk in proportion to their weight than those of the silk-worm; in proof of which he observed, that thirteen ounces yield nearly four ounces of pure silk, two ounces of which were sufficient to make a pair of stockings; whereas stockings made of common silk were said by him to weigh seven or eight ounces.

It was objected by some of Mr. Bon’s contemporaries, that spiders were venomous; and this is so far true that a bite from some of the species is very painful, producing as much swelling as the smart sting of a nettle. Mr. Bon, however, asserted thathe was several times bitten, without experiencing any inconvenience; if so, he was more fortunate or less sensitive than any of the spider-tamers with whom we have been acquainted. It was further asserted, that this venom extended itself to the silk which the spider produced; but this assertion was utterly absurd, as any one who has ever applied a cobweb to stop the bleeding from a cut ought to have known. Mr. Bon declared with perfect truth, that the silk, so far from being pernicious, was useful in staunching and healing wounds, its natural gluten acting as a kind of balsam.

The honest enthusiasm of the projector, and the singularity of a regular establishment being formed for rearing and working spiders, excited a considerable share of public attention. It was, indeed, an age of strange speculations, for nearly at the same time a German gentleman broached a scheme for turning tame squirrels and mice to account in spinning; and companies were formed in England, with large nominal capitals to carry out schemes still more preposterous. So important did Mr. Bon’s project appear to the French Academy, that they deputed the eminent naturalist, M. Réaumur, to investigate the merits of this new silk-filament.

After a long and patient examination M. Réaumur stated the following objections to Mr. Bon’s plan for raising spider-silk, which have ever since been regarded as insurmountable.

1. The natural fierceness of spiders renders them unfit to be bred together. On distributing four or five thousand of these insects into cells or companies of from fifty to one or two hundred, it was found that the larger spiders quicklykilled and ate the smaller, so that in a short space of time the cells were depopulated, scarcely more than one or two being found in each cell.

2. The silk of the spider is inferior to that of the silk-worm both in lustre and strength; and produces less material in proportion, than can be made available for the purposes of the manufacture. The filament of the spider’s-bag can support a weight of only thirty-six grains, while that of the silk-worm will sustain a weight of one hundred and fifty grains. Thus four or five threads of the spider must be brought together toequal one thread of the silk-worm, and as it is impossible that these should be applied so accurately over each other as not to leave little vacant spaces between them, the light is not equally reflected, and the lustre of the material is consequently inferior to that in which a solid thread is used.

3. A great disadvantage of the spider’s silk is, that it cannot be wound off the ball like that of the silk-worm, but must necessarily be carded. By this latter process, its evenness, which contributes so materially to its lustre, is destroyed.

The ferociousness and pugnacity of the spiders are not exaggerated; they fight like furies. Their voracity, too, is almost incredible, and it is very questionable whether the mere collection of flies sufficient to feed a large number of the spiders would not involve an amount of expense fatal to the project as a lucrative undertaking. The strength of the spiders’ filament is, if anything, overstated by Réaumur. Deficiency of lustre arising from the carding of the filaments is common to the spider-fabric and to spun silk; this objection would, perhaps, not be of very great weight but for the decisive calculation by which Réaumur showed the comparative amount of production between the spider and the silk-worm.

The largest cocoons weigh four, and the smaller three grains each; spider-bags do not weigh above one grain each; and, after being cleared of their dust, have lost two-thirds of this weight; therefore thework of twelve spidersequals that ofonly one silk-worm; and a pound of spider-silk would require for its production 27,648 insects. But as the bags are wholly the work of the females, who spin them as a deposit for their eggs, it follows that 55,296 spiders must be reared to yield one pound of silk: yet this will be obtained only from the best spiders; those large ones ordinarily seen in gardens, &c., yielding not more than a twelfth part of the silk of the others. The work of 280 of these would therefore not yield more silk than the produce of one industrious silk-worm, and 663,552 of them would furnish only one pound of silk!

Although Réaumur’s report completely extinguished Mr. Bon’s project in France, it was revived in England two or three times in the early part of the last century. Swift hasnot neglected to make it a portion of his unrivalled satire against speculators and projectors, in his account of Gulliver’s visit to the Academy of Lagado:

“I went into another room, says he, where the walls and ceilings were all hung round with cobwebs, except a narrow passage for the artist to go in and out. At my entrance he called out to me not to disturb his webs. He lamented the fatal mistake the world had been so long in, of using silk-worms, while we had such plenty of domestic insects, who infinitely excelled the former, because they understood how to weave as well as spin. And he proposed further, that, by employing spiders, the charge of dyeing silk should be wholly saved; whereof I was fully convinced, when he showed me a vast number of flies most beautifully colored, wherewith he fed his spiders, assuring us that the webs would take a tincture from them, and as he had them of all hues, he hoped to suit every body’s fancy, as soon as he could find proper food for the flies, of certain gums, oils, and other glutinous matter to give a strength and consistency to the threads.”

The Ingenuity of Spiders.—Mr. Thomas Ewbank of New York, in a letter to the Editor of the Journal of the Franklin Institute, bearing date September 20th, 1842, gives us the following interesting description of the ingenuity of the Spider.

“The resources of the lower animals have often excited admiration, and though no comprehensive and systematic series of observations have yet been made upon them(?), the time is, I believe, not distant when the task will be undertaken—perhaps within the next century. But whenever and by whomsoever accomplished, the mechanism of animals will then form the subject of one of the most interesting andusefulvolumes in the archives of man.

“Among insects, spiders have repeatedly been observed to modify and change their contrivances forensnaring their prey. Those that live in fields and gardens often fabricate their nets or webs vertically. This sometimes occurs in locations where there is no object sufficiently near to which the lower edge or extremity of the web can properly be braced; and unless this be done, light puffs or breezes of wind are apt to blow it into an entangled mass. Instead of being spread out, like the sail of a ship, to the wind, it would become clewed over the upper line, or edge, like a sail when furled up. Now how would a human engineer act under similar circumstances? Butere the reader begins to reflect(!), he should bear in mind that it would not do to brace the web by running rigging from it to somefixedor immovable object below—by no means;—for were this done, it could not yield to impulses of wind; the rigging would be snapped by the first blast, and the whole structure probably destroyed.

“Whatever contrivances human sagacity might suggest, they could hardly excel those which these despised engineers sometimes adopt. Having formed a web, under circumstances similar to those to which we have referred, a spider has been known to descend from it to the ground by means of a thread spun for the purpose, and after selecting a minute pebble, or piece of stone, has coiled the end of the thread round it. Having done this, the ingenious artist ascended, and fixing himself on the lower part of the web, hoisted up the pebble until it swung several inches clear of the ground. The cord to which the weight was suspended was then secured by additional ones, running from it to different parts of the web, which thus acquired the requisite tension, and was allowed, at the same time, to yield to sudden puffs of wind without danger of being rent asunder.

“A similar instance came under my notice a few days ago. A large spider had constructed his web, in nearly a vertical position, about six feet from the ground, in a corner of my yard. The upper edge was formed by a strong thread, secured at one end to a vine leaf, and the other to a clothes line. One part of the lower edge was attached to a Penyan sun-flower, and another to a trellis fence, four or five feet distant. Between these there was no object nearer than the ground, to which an additional brace line could be carried; but two threads, a foot asunder, descended from this part of the web, and, eight or ten inches below it, were united at a point. From this point, a single line, four or five inches long, was suspended, and to its lower extremity was the weight, aliving one, viz. a worm,three inches long, andone-eighth of an inch thick. The cord was fastened around the middle of the victim’s body, and as no object was within reach, all its writhings and efforts to escape were fruitless. Its weight answered the same purpose as a piece of inanimate matter, while its sufferings seemed not in the least todisturb the unconcerned murderer, who lay waiting for his prey above.

“Whether the owner of the web found it a more easy task to capture this unlucky worm and raise it, than to elevate a stone of the same weight, may be a question(?). Perhaps in seeking for the latter, the former fell in his way, and was seized as the first suitable object that came to hand—like the human tyrant, (Domitian) who, to show his skill in archery, planted his arrows in the heads of men or cattle, in the absence of other targets. It may be, however, that a piece of stone, earth, or wood, of a suitable weight, was not in the vicinity of the web.

“To observe the effect of this weight, I separated, with a pair of scissors, the thread by which it was suspended, and instantly the web sunk to half its previous dimensions—the lower part became loose, and with the slightest current kept shaking like a sail shivering in the wind. A fresh weight was not supplied by the next morning; but instead of it two long brace lines extended from the lower part of the web to two vine tendrils, a considerable distance off. These I cut away to see what device would be next adopted, but on going to examine it the following day, I found the clothes line removed, and with it all relics of the insect’s labors had disappeared.”

Mason-Spiders.—A no less wonderful structure is composed by a sort of spiders, natives of the tropics and the south of Europe, which have been justly called mason-spiders by M. Latreille. One of these (Mygale nidulans,Walckn.), found in the West Indies, “digs a hole in the earth obliquely downwards, about three inches in length, and one in diameter. This cavity she lines with a tough thick web, which, when taken out, resembles a leathern purse; but what is most curious, this house has a door with hinges, like the operculum of some sea-shells, and herself and family, who tenant this nest, open and shut the door whenever they pass and repass. This history was told me,” says Darwin, “and the nest, with its door, shown me by the late Dr. Butt, of Bath, who was some years physician in Jamaica[175].”

[175]Darwin’s Zoonomia, i. 253, 8vo. ed.

“The nest of a mason-spider, similar to this,” says Mr. Rennie, “has been obligingly put into our hands by Mr. Riddle of Blackheath. It came from the West Indies, and is probably that of Latreille’s clay-kneader (Mygale cratiens), and one of the smallest of the genus. We have since seen a pair of these spiders in possession of Mr. William Mello, of Blackheath. The nest is composed of very hard argillaceous clay, deeply tinged with brown oxide of iron. It is in form of a tube, about one inch in diameter, between six and seven inches long, and slightly bent towards the lower extremity—appearing to have been mined into the clay rather than built. The interior of the tube is linedwith a uniform tapestry of silken web, of an orange-white color, with a texture intermediate between India paper and very fine glove leather. But the most wonderful part of this nest is its entrance, which we look upon as the perfection of insect architecture. A circular door, about the size of a crown piece, slightly concave on the outside and convex within, is formed of more than a dozen layers of the same web which lines the interior, closely laid upon one another, and shaped so that the inner layers are the broadest, the outer being gradually less in diameter, except towards the hinge, which is about an inch long; and in consequence of all the layers being united there, and prolonged into the tube, it becomes the thickest and strongest part of the structure. The elasticity of the materials, also, gives to this hinge the remarkable peculiarity of acting like a spring, and shutting the door of the nest spontaneously. It is, besides, made to fit so accurately to the aperture, which is composed of similar concentric layers of web, that it is almost impossible to distinguish the joining by the most careful inspection. To gratify curiosity, the door has been opened and shut hundreds of times, without in the least destroying the power of the spring. When the door is shut, it resembles some of the lichens (Lecidea), or the leathery fungi, such asPolyporus versicolor(Micheli), or, nearer still, the upper valve of a young oyster-shell. The door of the nest, the only part seen above ground, being of a blackish-brown color, it must be very difficult to discover.”

Another mason-spider (Mygale cœmentaria,Latr.), foundin the south of France, usually selects for her nest a place bare of grass, sloping in such a manner as to carry off the water, and of a firm soil, without rocks or small stones. She digs a gallery a foot or two in depth, and of a diameter (equal throughout) sufficient to admit of her easily passing. She lines thiswith a tapestry of silk glued to the walls. The door, which is circular, is constructed of many layers of earth kneaded, and bound together withsilk. Externally, it is flat and rough, corresponding to the earth around the entrance, for the purpose, no doubt, of concealment: on the inside it is convex,and tapestried thickly with a web of fine silk. The threads of this door-tapestry are prolonged, and strongly attached to the upper side of the entrance, forming an excellent hinge, which, when pushed open by the spider, shuts again by its own weight, without the aid of spring hinges. When the spider is at home, and her door forcibly opened by an intruder, she pulls it strongly inwards, and even where half-opened often snatches it out of the hand; but when she is foiled in this, she retreats to the bottom of her den, as her last resource[176]. The nest of this spider (the mason spider) is represented inPlate IV.Fig. 14., and shows the nest shut. Fig. 15., represents it open. Fig. 16. the spider (Mygale cœmentaria). Fig. 17. the eyes magnified. Figures 18 and 19 parts of the foot and claw magnified. Rossi ascertained that the female of an allied species (Mygale sauvagesii,Latr.), found in Corsica, lived in one of these nests, with a numerous posterity. He destroyed one of the doors to observe whether a new one would be made, which it was; but it was fixed immoveably, without a hinge; the spider, no doubt, fortifying herself in this manner till she thought she might re-open it without danger[177].

[176]Mém. Soc. d’Hist. Nat. de Paris, An. vii.[177]Mém. Soc. d’Hist. Nat. de Paris, An. vii. p. 125, and Latreille, Hist. Nat. Génér. viii. p. 163.

[176]Mém. Soc. d’Hist. Nat. de Paris, An. vii.

[177]Mém. Soc. d’Hist. Nat. de Paris, An. vii. p. 125, and Latreille, Hist. Nat. Génér. viii. p. 163.

“The Rev. Revett Shepherd has often noticed, in the fen ditches of Norfolk, a very large spider (the species not yet determined) which actually forms araftfor the purpose of obtaining its prey with more facility. Keeping its station upon aball of weeds about three inches in diameter, probably held together by slight silken cords, it is wafted along the surface of the water upon this floating island, which it quits the moment it sees a drowning insect. The booty thus seized it devours at leisure upon its raft, under which it retires when alarmed by any danger[178].” In the spring of 1830, Mr. Rennie found a spider on some reeds in the Croydon Canal, which agreed in appearance with Mr. Shepherd’s.

[178]Kirby and Spence, Intr. i. 425.

Among our native spiders there are several, which, not contented with a web like the rest of their congeners, take advantage of other materials to construct cells where, “hushed in grim repose,” they “expect their insect prey.” The most simple of those spider cells is constructed by a longish-bodied spider (Aranea holosericea,Linn.), which is a little larger than the common hunting spider. It rolls up a leaf of the lilac or poplar, precisely in the same manner as is done by the leaf-rolling caterpillars, upon whose cells it sometimes seizes to save itself trouble, having first expelled, or perhaps devoured, the rightful owner. The spider, however, is not satisfied with the tapestry of the caterpillar,but always weaves a fresh set of her own, more close and substantial.

Another spider, common in woods and copses (Epeira quadrata?) weaves together a great number of leaves to form a dwelling for herself, and in front of it she spreads her toils for entrapping the unwary insects which stray thither. These, as soon as caught, are dragged into her den, and stored up for a time of scarcity. Here also her eggs are deposited and hatched in safety. When the cold weather approaches, and the leaves of her edifice wither, she abandons it for the more secure shelter of a hollow tree, where she soon dies; but the continuation of the species depends upon eggs, deposited in the nest before winter, and remaining to be hatched with the warmth of the ensuing summer.

The spider’s den of united leaves, however, which has just been described, is not always useless when withered and deserted; for the dormouse usually selects it as a ready-maderoof for its nest of dried grass. That those old spiders’ dens are not accidentally chosen by the mouse, appears from the fact, that out of about a dozen mouse-nests of this sort found during winter in a copse between Lewisham and Bromley, Kent (England), every second or third one was furnished with such a roof.

The Water Spider.—We extract the following exquisitely beautiful and interesting fact in nature,connected with diving operations, from the Rev. Mr. Kirby’s Bridgewater Treatise:—

“The Water Spider is one of the most remarkable upon whom that office (diving) is developed by her Creator. To this end, her instinct instructs her to fabricate a kind ofdiving-bellin the bosom of that element. She usually selects still waters for this purpose. Her house is anoval cocoon, filled with air, and lined withsilk, from which threads issue in every direction, and are fastened to the surrounding plants; in this cocoon, which is open below, she watches for her prey, and even appears to pass the winter, when she closes the opening. It is most commonly, yet not always, entirely under water; but its inhabitant has filled it with air for her respiration, which enables her to live in it. She conveys the air to it in the following manner: she usually swims upon her back, when her abdomen is enveloped in a bubble of air, and appears like a globe of quicksilver[179]; with this she enters her cocoon, and displacing anequal mass of water, again ascends for a second lading, till she has sufficiently filled her house with it, so as to expel all the water.

“The males construct similar habitations by the same manœuvres. How these little animals can envelope their abdomen with an air-bubble, and retain it till they enter their cells, is still one of Nature’s mysteries that have not been explained.

“We, however, cannot help admiring, and adoring, the wisdom, power, and goodness manifested in this singular provision, enabling an animal that breathes the atmospheric air, to fill her house with it under water, and which has instructed her in a secret art,by which she can clothe part of her body with air as a garment, and which she can put off when it answers her purpose.

“This is a kind of attraction and repulsion which mocks all our inquiries.”

[179]Her singular economy was first, we believe, described by Clerck (Aranei Suecici, Stockholm, 1757.), L. M. de Lignac (Mém. des Araign. Aquat., 12mo. Paris, 1799.), and De Geer.“The shining appearance,” says Clerck, “proceeds either from an inflated globule surrounding the abdomen, or from the space between the body and the water. The spider, when wishing to inhale the air, rises to the surface, with its body still submersed, and only the part containing the spinneret rising just to the surface, when it briskly opens and moves its four teats. A thick coat of hair keeps the water from approaching or wetting the abdomen. It comes up for air about four times an hour or oftener, though I have good reason to suppose it can continue without it for several days together.“I found in the middle of May one male and ten females, which I put into a glass filled with water, where they lived together very quietly for eight days. I put some duck-weed (Lemna) into the glass to afford them shelter, and the females began to stretch diagonal threads in a confused manner from it to the sides of the glass about half way down. Each of the females afterwards fixed a close bag to the edge of the glass, from which the water was expelled by the air from the spinneret, and thus a cell was formed capable of containing the whole animal. Here they remained quietly, with their abdomens in their cells, and their bodies still plunged in the water; and in a short time brimstone-colored bags of eggs appeared in each cell, filling it about a fourth part. On the 7th of July several young ones swam out from one of the bags. All this time the old ones had nothing to eat,and yet they never attacked one another, as other spiders would have been apt to do (Clerck, Aranei Suecici, cap. viii.).”“These spiders,” says De Geer, “spin in the water a cell of strong,closely woven, white silkin the form of half the shell of a pigeon’s egg, or like a diving bell. This is sometimes left partly above water, but at others is entirely submersed, and is always attached to the objects near it by a great number of irregular threads. It is closed all round, but has a large opening below, which, however, I found closed on the 15th of December, and the spider living quietly within, with her head downwards. I made a rent in this cell, and expelled the air, upon which the spider came out; yet though she appeared to have been laid up for three months in her winter quarters, she greedily seized upon an insect and sucked it. I also found that the male as well as the female constructs a similar subaqueous cell, and during summer no less than in winter (De Geer, Mém. des Insectes, vii. 312.).” “We have recently kept one of these spiders,” says Mr. Rennie, “for several months in a glass of water, where it built a cell half under water, in which it laid its eggs.”

[179]Her singular economy was first, we believe, described by Clerck (Aranei Suecici, Stockholm, 1757.), L. M. de Lignac (Mém. des Araign. Aquat., 12mo. Paris, 1799.), and De Geer.

“The shining appearance,” says Clerck, “proceeds either from an inflated globule surrounding the abdomen, or from the space between the body and the water. The spider, when wishing to inhale the air, rises to the surface, with its body still submersed, and only the part containing the spinneret rising just to the surface, when it briskly opens and moves its four teats. A thick coat of hair keeps the water from approaching or wetting the abdomen. It comes up for air about four times an hour or oftener, though I have good reason to suppose it can continue without it for several days together.

“I found in the middle of May one male and ten females, which I put into a glass filled with water, where they lived together very quietly for eight days. I put some duck-weed (Lemna) into the glass to afford them shelter, and the females began to stretch diagonal threads in a confused manner from it to the sides of the glass about half way down. Each of the females afterwards fixed a close bag to the edge of the glass, from which the water was expelled by the air from the spinneret, and thus a cell was formed capable of containing the whole animal. Here they remained quietly, with their abdomens in their cells, and their bodies still plunged in the water; and in a short time brimstone-colored bags of eggs appeared in each cell, filling it about a fourth part. On the 7th of July several young ones swam out from one of the bags. All this time the old ones had nothing to eat,and yet they never attacked one another, as other spiders would have been apt to do (Clerck, Aranei Suecici, cap. viii.).”

“These spiders,” says De Geer, “spin in the water a cell of strong,closely woven, white silkin the form of half the shell of a pigeon’s egg, or like a diving bell. This is sometimes left partly above water, but at others is entirely submersed, and is always attached to the objects near it by a great number of irregular threads. It is closed all round, but has a large opening below, which, however, I found closed on the 15th of December, and the spider living quietly within, with her head downwards. I made a rent in this cell, and expelled the air, upon which the spider came out; yet though she appeared to have been laid up for three months in her winter quarters, she greedily seized upon an insect and sucked it. I also found that the male as well as the female constructs a similar subaqueous cell, and during summer no less than in winter (De Geer, Mém. des Insectes, vii. 312.).” “We have recently kept one of these spiders,” says Mr. Rennie, “for several months in a glass of water, where it built a cell half under water, in which it laid its eggs.”

Thus it appears, that by the successive descents of the little water-spider under the impulsion of its instinct, produce effects in its subaqueous pavilion equivalent to those produced in the diving-bell, or diving helmet, by the successive strokes of the condensing air-pump of scientific man!

In the language of the book of Psalms, this insect “LAYETH THE BEAMS OF” her “CHAMBERS IN THE WATERS,” and there secures her subaqueous chambers in the manner described.

Cleanliness of Spiders.—“When we look at the viscid material,” says Mr. Rennie, “with which spiders construct their lines and webs, and at the rough, hairy covering (with a few exceptions) of their bodies, we might conclude, that they would be always stuck over with fragments of the minute fibres which they produce. This, indeed, must often happen, did they not take careful precautions to avoid it; for we have observed that they seldom, if ever, leave a thread to float at random, except when they wish to form a bridge. When a spider drops along a line, for instance, in order to ascertain the strength of her web, or the nature of the place below her, she invariably, when she re-ascends, coils it up into a little ball, and throws it away. Her claws are admirably adapted for this purpose, as well as for walking along the lines, as may be readily seen by a magnifying glass. Fig. 13.Plate IV.shows the triple-clawed foot of a spider, magnified, the others being toothed like a comb, for gliding along the lines. This structure, however, unfits it to walk, as flies can do, upon any upright polished surface like glass; although the contrary[180]is erroneously asserted by the Abbé de la Pluche. Before she can do so, she is obliged to construct a ladder of ropes, as Mr. Blackwall remarks[181], by elevating her spinneret as high as she can, and laying down a step upon which she stands to form a second; and so on, as any one may try by placing a spider at the bottom of a very clean wine glass.

“The hairs of the legs, however, are always catching bits of web and particles of dust; but these are not suffered to remain long. Most people may have remarked that the house-fly is ever and anon brushing its feet upon one another to rub off thedust, though we have not seen it remarked in authors that spiders are equally assiduous in keeping themselves clean. They have, besides, a very efficient instrument in their mandibles or jaws, which, like their claws, are furnished with teeth; and a spider which appears to a careless observer as resting idly, in nine cases out of ten will be foundslowly combing her legs with her mandibles, beginning as high as possible on the thigh, and passing down to the claws. The flue which she thus combs off is regularly tossed away.

“With respect to the house-spider (A. domestica), we are told in books, that ‘she from time to time clears away the dust from her web, and sweeps the whole by giving it a shake with her paw, so nicely proportioning the force of her blow, that she never breaks any thing[182].’ That spiders may be seen shaking their webs in this manner, we readily admit; though it is not, we imagine, to clear them of dust, but to ascertain whether they are sufficiently sound and strong.

“We recently witnessed a more laborious process of cleaning a web than merely shaking it. On coming down the Maine by the steam-boat from Frankfort, in August 1829, we observed the geometric-net of a conic spider (Epeira conica,Walck.) on the framework of the deck, and as it was covered with flakes of soot from the smoke of the engine, we were surprised to see a spider at work on it; for, in order to be useful, this sort of net must be clean. Upon observing it a little closely, however, we perceived that she was not constructing a net, but dressing up an old one; though not, we must think, to save trouble, so much as an expenditure of material. Some of the lines she dexterously stripped of the flakes of soot adhering to them; but in the greater number, finding that she could not get them sufficiently clean, she broke them quite off, bundled them up, and tossed them over. We counted five of these packets of rubbish which she thus threw away, though there must have been many more, as it was some time before we discovered the manœuvre, the packets being so small as not to be readily perceived, except when placed between the eye and thelight. When she had cleared off all the sooted lines, she began to replace them in the usual way; but the arrival of the boat at Mentz put an end to our observations.” Bloomfield, the poet, having observed the disappearance of these bits of ravelled web, says that he observed a garden spider moisten the pellets before swallowing them! Dr. Lister, as we have already seen, thought the spider retracted the threads within the abdomen.

[180]Spectacle de la Nature, i. 58.[181]Linn. Trans. vol. xv.[182]Spectacle de la Nature, i. p. 61.

[180]Spectacle de la Nature, i. 58.

[181]Linn. Trans. vol. xv.

[182]Spectacle de la Nature, i. p. 61.

“I could wish,” says Addison, in ‘The Spectator,’ “our Royal Society would compile a body of natural history, the best that could be gathered together from books and observations. If the several writers among them took each his particular species, and gave us a distinct account of its original, birth, and education; its policies, hostilities, and alliances; with the frame and texture of its inward and outward parts,—and particularly those which distinguish it from all other animals,—with their aptitudes for the state of being in which Providence has placed them; it would be one of the best services their studies could do mankind, and not a little redound to the glory of the All-wise Creator.”—‘Spectator,’ No. iii.Although we do not consider Addison as a naturalist, in any of the usual meanings of the term, yet it would be no easy task, even for those who have devoted their undivided attention to the subject, to improve upon the admirable plan of study here laid down. It is, moreover, so especially applicable to the investigation of insects, that it may be more or less put in practice by any person who chooses, in whatever station or circumstances he happens to be placed. Nay, we will go farther; for since it agrees with experience and many recorded instances that individuals have been enabled to investigate and elucidate particular facts, who were quite unacquainted with systematic natural history, we hold it to be undeniable, thatany person of moderate penetration, though altogether unacquainted with what is called “Natural History,” who will take the trouble to observe particular facts and endeavor to trace them to their causes, has every chance to be successful in adding to his own knowledge, and frequently in making discoveries of what was previously unknown. It is related of M. Pélissan, while a prisoner in the Bastille, that he tamed a spider by means of music. This in conjunction with Evelyn’s observations on hunting-spiders is strong proof of our position, and show that though books are often of high value to guide us in our observations, they are by no means indispensable to the study of nature, inasmuch as the varied scene of creation itself forms an inexhaustible book, which “even he who runneth may read.”“It will be of the utmost importance, in the study here recommended, to bear in mind that an insect can never be found in any situation, nor make any movement, without some motive, originating in the instinct imparted to it by Providence. This principle alone, when it is made the basis of inquiry into such motives or instincts, will be found productive of many interesting discoveries, which, without it, might never be made. With this, indeed, exclusively in view, during an excursion, and with a little attention and perseverance, every walk—nay, every step—may lead to delightful and interesting knowledge.”—“Insect Architecture,” p. 219.

Although we do not consider Addison as a naturalist, in any of the usual meanings of the term, yet it would be no easy task, even for those who have devoted their undivided attention to the subject, to improve upon the admirable plan of study here laid down. It is, moreover, so especially applicable to the investigation of insects, that it may be more or less put in practice by any person who chooses, in whatever station or circumstances he happens to be placed. Nay, we will go farther; for since it agrees with experience and many recorded instances that individuals have been enabled to investigate and elucidate particular facts, who were quite unacquainted with systematic natural history, we hold it to be undeniable, thatany person of moderate penetration, though altogether unacquainted with what is called “Natural History,” who will take the trouble to observe particular facts and endeavor to trace them to their causes, has every chance to be successful in adding to his own knowledge, and frequently in making discoveries of what was previously unknown. It is related of M. Pélissan, while a prisoner in the Bastille, that he tamed a spider by means of music. This in conjunction with Evelyn’s observations on hunting-spiders is strong proof of our position, and show that though books are often of high value to guide us in our observations, they are by no means indispensable to the study of nature, inasmuch as the varied scene of creation itself forms an inexhaustible book, which “even he who runneth may read.”

“It will be of the utmost importance, in the study here recommended, to bear in mind that an insect can never be found in any situation, nor make any movement, without some motive, originating in the instinct imparted to it by Providence. This principle alone, when it is made the basis of inquiry into such motives or instincts, will be found productive of many interesting discoveries, which, without it, might never be made. With this, indeed, exclusively in view, during an excursion, and with a little attention and perseverance, every walk—nay, every step—may lead to delightful and interesting knowledge.”—“Insect Architecture,” p. 219.

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