216 
“WITH PRUDENCE AND PATIENCE.” 
This web, woven out of itself, living and vibrating, is much more 
than an instrument; it is a part of its being. Itself of a circular form, 
the spider seems to expand within this circle, and prolong the fila¬ 
ments of its nerves to the radiating threads which it weaves. In the 
centre of its web lies its greatest force for attack or defence. Out of 
that centre it is timid; a fly will make it recoil. The web is its 
electric telegraph, responding to the lightest touch, and revealing the 
presence of an imperceptible and almost imponderable victim; while, 
at the same time, being slightly viscous in substance, it retains the 
prey, or delays and entangles a dangerous enemy. 
In windy weather, the continual agitation of the web prevents it 
from giving an account of what transpires, and the spider then remains 
at the centre. But usually it keeps near its machinery, hidden under 
a leaf, that it may not terrify its victims, or fall a prey to any of its 
numerous foes. 
Prudence and patience, rather than courage, are its characteristics. 
Its experience is too great, it has undergone too many accidents and 
misadventures, it is too much accustomed to the severities of fate, to 
indulge in any surpassing audacity. It is afraid even of an ant. The 
latter, often a mischievous individual, a restless and rugged rodent, and 
afraid of nothing, frequently persists in exploring the strange woof, of 
which it can make nothing. The spider accordingly gives way to it, 
—whether it fears the acid of the ant, which burns like aquafortis, or 
