A Sensible Spider by J. H. W.

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Nov 18, 1875

A Sensible Spider.

By J. H. W.

THE subject of the intelligence of the lower animals and of insects has become one of great interest since the assumed evidences of the natural immortality of man have been more closely examined. A few years ago no argument was more ready than this: “Matter cannot think; matter cannot reason. Thought and reason are attributes of spirit, and evidences of immortality.” But as the evidences accumulate that the lower animals, and even insects, do think and reason, this argument loses all its force. One by one the props of superstition give way, and the truth is being acknowledged by thousands that Jesus Christ “brought life and immortality to light through the gospel.”

Among the incidents which have been published of late years we have seen none more interesting than the following:—

“Some years ago, when living in a lonely way, I took pains to cultivate the acquaintance of a remarkably well-developed spider, who had formed a beautifully symmetrical web in one corner of my room. In order to propitiate his favor, I fed him regularly with such food as I thought adapted to his taste, and after a while he seemed to rely upon me entirely for his supplies, relapsing, as human beings often do under similar circumstances, into a condition of luxurious ease and inactivity. One morning, by way of testing his temper, I threw a small bit of wet tobacco into his web. He, supposing it to be his usual morning fly, rushed toward the tobacco with hungry avidity, and instantly ran away to a remote quarter of his premises with still greater velocity.”

“I was aware that the presence of such a nauseous substance as this in his domicile would be very offensive, and I also knew that he would not venture as near to it a second time, as would be necessary in order to remove the article; and my curiosity was excited to see what course he would pursue. After a while he crawled to the upper part of his web and shook it with all his might, but was unsuccessful in dislodging the offending substance. He then returned to his accustomed place in the center of the web, and for a few minutes appeared to be thinking the matter over. At last he stepped out with an air of confidence that satisfied me he had hit upon something, though I was unable to conjecture what it would be. True enough, he had solved the problem, and accordingly he went to work at once to saw away a circle round the tobacco, some two or three inches in diameter, until the whole concern fell out together, after which he repaired the damage and all was right again. I think, however, that from this time my spider-friend never gave me his entire confidence.”

We admire, not only the method and calculation displayed, but the good sense to so apply skill as to get rid of such a filthy enemy without coming in direct contact with it. How much wiser than many human beings! How many dwellings there are in the land which ought to be served as the spider served his, broken up to get rid of this abominable nuisance. Until our senses become so blunted and our taste so perverted that we should prefer a scorpion to an egg, or a serpent to a fish, we too would withhold our confidence from him who would try to satisfy our wants with tobacco. We would banish it from our household even if we had to break up a board or remove a beam. Noble spider! how many “half-reasoning” humans might profit by your example.—J. H. W., in SIGNS OF TIMES.