some solid object, when its thousands of ends are pressed upon it, than if this were done with a single end; and, what seems to be the chief intention, the line is much stronger in proportion to its thickness, by being formed of so many separate threads.

There are various ways, in which the spider applies to her own use the threads she spins, some of them exceedingly artificial. One species employs them to enable it to mount into the air, another to cross streams, and another still, as we have seen, to form itself a comfortable home; but the principal use to which this curious art is applied, is, for the capture of their prey. There is great variety in the manner in which the snares are constructed. That of the geometrician is the most beautiful and symmetrical, being formed of lines diverging from a common centre, and crossed at minute intervals by other lines, drawn in spiral circumvolutions. This spider frequents shrubs and hedges, where she spreads her net. The house-spider, on the other hand, weaves her web like a piece of gauze or fine muslin, with threads attached to the edges of the web, joining and crossing in various directions, and carried up often to the height of several feet. These lines intercept the insects flying across them, by which they become entangled, and, in struggling to get free, generally fall into the bosom of the net, spread beneath to receive them. That she may keep quite out of sight, and not frighten away her victims, the spider often adds a little silken apartment below, or at one side of the web; and in order to know when any one is caught, she spins several threads from the edge of the net to that of her hole. These, by moving, give notice of what has happened, and serve as a bridge, by which she may run in a moment to any quarter where her prey is entangled.

Among all the remarkable instincts of this tribe, there is, perhaps, none so extraordinary as that of the species which build their nests under water. This creature is called the water-spider. She spins some loose threads, which she fastens to the leaves of water plants growing in a still pool. Among these threads she weaves for her

self a cocoon, rendered impervious to water by covering the whole over with the gummy substance contained in her body. This apartment is about half the size of a pigeon's egg, and is formed with an opening below. Having covered her own body partly over with this gum, thus, in some mysterious manner, forming for herself an air-bag, she comes to the surface of the water, and draws in as much air as the bag will hold, which she conveys to her cell. This operation she repeats many times, till the cell is filled and expanded with air, the water being expelled; and during the operation, she usually swims upon her back, the air-bag, which is fixed to her abdomen, appearing like a bubble of quicksilver. In this diving-bell the spider lives, keeping herself quite dry, and having sufficient means of respiration, although under water. Here, too, she carries the prey which she captures, diving below the water, and entering her habitation by the aperture underneath.

The whole operations of these insects are exceedingly curious, and there is yet one other circumstance which I have to mention. They are gifted with the faculty of walking, in opposition to gravity, even upon the glass, with their bodies inverted. According to the observations of Mr. Blackwall, this is not effected by producing atmospheric pressure by the adhesion of suckers, as is the case with flies, and some other creatures, but by a brush, formed of "slender bristles, fringed on each side with exceedingly fine hairs, gradually diminishing in length as they approach its extremity, where they occur in such profusion as to form a thick brush on its superior surface."* These brushes he first discovered on a living specimen of the largest species of this insect, called the bird-spider; and the same structure, as far as his researches were carried, he found in those species which can walk in counteraction of gravity upon glass. mon mentions the spider among "the things that are little upon the earth, yet exceeding wise;" and one proof which he gives of her wisdom is that "she taketh hold

*Linnæan Transactions.

Solo

with her hands." There is, indeed, consummate wisdom in the contrivance by which she is enabled to do this, although we may not be able to understand how a brush so contrived as Mr. Blackwall describes, can bestow upon her that power to the extent in which she possesses

it.

But the instruments with which the spider constructs her web, rather than those which she employs in locomotion, were probably the objects of Solomon's admiration. These I shall not stop to describe, as they would lead us too much into detail. I shall only observe, that they are among the most remarkable parts of her structure, containing, as they do, regularly formed carding and spinning machines, which the animal employs for extracting the matter from the teat-like organs, already described, and drawing or weaving them into threads or webs at her pleasure. Entomologists have felt it an agreeable task to dwell on the peculiarities of this class of beings; and they form a theme no less pleasing to those who delight to trace the Creator in his works.

SEVENTH WEEK-SUNDAY.

[SPIRITUAL TRANSFORMATION.

In the natural world there are going on perpetual and varied transformations. The little seed, hard to the touch, and unattractive in appearance, is transformed into the graceful plant, with its tender shoots, and its clear green leaves, and afterwards with its exquisite and freshsmelling flowers, and finally with its fair and delicious fruit. That great skeleton of a tree, which all winter long has creaked and rattled in the wind, causing the cold passenger to feel colder as he hurried by, presently puts forth its buds, and then its rich tufts of foliage, amidst which the birds sing and build their nests, and beneath

which man finds a grateful shade. The dark-looking chrysalis, shut up in its rough case, devoid of comeliness or motion, by and by comes forth from his prison, arrayed in wings of purple and gold, and is henceforth a companion of blossoms and rainbows.

Something analogous to this, takes place in the history of man. In the spiritual world, there are going on transformations as momentous and as wonderful as those which arrest our notice in the vegetable or insect kingdoms. A mind will be wrapped up in a hard coat of ignorancea small, imprisoned, unproductive mind-till presently the genial influences of education are brought to work upon it, and the latent capacities within it begin to swell, and the hard coat is cloven, and green leaves appear, and then branches, and blossoms, and fruit, and we behold the marvellous transformation of the mere elements of intellect, into intellect cultivated, enlarged, elevated, profound, piercing into the heavens above, and into the earth beneath. That which could not express itself before, now luxuriates in eloquence, and is profuse of thought, and clothes itself with clusters of choice words, that enrich the neighboring air, and are long redolent to the memory. That which was undistinguished in the world before, and unregarded, it was so little, so rude, is now an ornament to the land which produced it, and is seen from afar, and is prized for its elegance and its usefulness.

It is education which has done this;-the transforming power of education. If it be asked, what education? whether from within or from without, by self-energy or by the action of other minds? I should certainly answer, by both modes of operation and influence has the transformation been effected, because either one is unavailable without the other, to the full extent of the actual result. There has been self-education, and there has been imparted education. The call from without has met an answer from within. The want which cried from within, has found a supply administered from without. The sun may shine, and the rain may fall for ever, but if there is no vital principle in the seed, if its life is gone, and there is no will to put forth, there will be no springing, and no

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plant; and if no sun shines, and no rain falls, where the seed is lying, there may be ever so much vital principle within it, but still it cannot come to a perfect plant. And so the influences of education, if directed upon a recusant or unreceptive mind, will be exerted fruitlessly. And if a willing mind is condemned to entire solitude, and longs for help which is not near, and for suggestion and sympathy which never approach, its willingness cannot of itself insure growth and production.

Let us understand this matter, at least so far as there are facts to enlighten us. There are things in this world so essentially united together, so naturally dependent on each other, that we may not by any artifice put them asunder, or cause them to prosper or bring forth fruit independently. Self-education is the reception and application by an individual mind of the means of education which are offered to it, or are within its reach. We say that a man is self-educated, whose receptiveness and earnestness of application, bear a large proportion to the means; are beforehand with them; and meet with difficulties in obtaining them, to distinguish him from one who is rather sought by means than seeks them, and is so surrounded and even urged by them, that they bear a large proportion to his own efforts. The first of these, we say, is self-educated, the second is educated. But neither in the one case nor the other, is there any education at all, without receptiveness and application, in some degree, on the one hand, and without means, of some sort, on the other.

And then these means, what are they? They are not merely books, with their printed words, with their facts, their precepts, their history, their fiction, their poetry; they are not merely a class of men called instructers, with their lessons, their injunctions, their sciences, their languages, their methods; they are not merely our fellow-men at large, with their encouragement and their opposition, their love and their enmity, their guidance and their temptings, their smiles, their tears, their glory, their shame, their wisdom, their folly, their virtue, their vice, their example for good and for ill. All these means and