of every part of it, retired into its hole, and came out very frequently. The firft enemy, however, it had to encounter, was another and a much larger fpider, which, having no web of its own, and having probably exhaufted all its stock in former labours of this kind, came to invade the property of its neighbour. Soon then a terrible encounter enfued, in which the invader feemed to have the victory, and the laborious spider was obliged to take refuge in its hole. Upon this I perceived the victor ufing every art to draw the enemy from his ftrong hold. He feemed to go off, but quickly returned, and when he found all arts vain, began to demolish the new web without merey. This brought on another battle, and, contrary to my expectations, the laborious fpider became conqueror, and fairly killed his antagonist. Now then, in peaceable, poffeffion of what was juftly its own, it waited three days with the utmost impatience, repairing the breaches of its web, and taking no sustenance that I could perceive. At laft, however, a large blue fly fell into the fnare, and ftruggled hard to get loofe. The spider gave it leave to entangle itself as much as poffible, but it seemed to be too strong for the cobweb. I muft own I was greatly furprized when I faw the spider immediately fally out, and in lefs than a minute weave a new net round its captive, by which the motion of its wings was ftopped, and when it was fairly hampered in this manner, it was feized, and dragged into the hole. In this manner it lived, in a precarious ftate, and Nature feemed to have fitted it for fuch a life, for upon a fingle fly it fubfifted for more than a week. I once put a wafp into the neft, but when the spider came out in order to feize it as ufual, upon perceiving what kind of an enemy it had to deal with, it inftantly broke all the bands that held it fast, and con tributed tributed all that lay in its power to difengage fo formidable an antagonist. When the wafp was at liberty, I expected the fpider would have fet about repairing the breaches that were made in its net, but those it seems were irreparable, wherefore the cobweb was now entirely forfaken, and a new one begun, which was completed in the usual time. I had now a mind to try how many cobwebs a fingle spider could furnish, wherefore I deftroyed this, and the infect set about another. When I deftroyed the other also, its whole stock feemed entirely exhaufted, and it could fpin no more. The arts it made ufe of to fupport itself, now deprived of its great means of fubfiftence, were indeed furprising. I have seen it roll up its legs like a ball, and lie motionless for hours together, but cautiously watching all the time; when a fly happened to approach fufficiently near, it would dart out all at once, and often feize its prey. It Of this life, however, it foon began to grow weary, and refolved to invade the poffeffion of fome other fpider, fince it could not make a web of its own. formed an attack upon a neighbouring fortification with great vigour, and at firft was as vigorously repulfed. Not daunted, however, with one defeat, in this manner it continued to lay fiege to another's web for three days, and at length, having killed the defendant, actually took poffeffion. When smaller flies happen to fall into the fnare, the spider does not fally out at once, but very patiently waits till it is fure of them; for, upon his immediately approaching, the terror of his appearance might give the captive ftrength fufficient to get loofe: the manner then is to wait patiently till, by ineffectual and impotent struggles, the captive has wafted all its ftrength, and then he becomes a certain and easy conqueft. The The infect I am now defcribing lived three years every year it changed its fkin, and got a new fet of legs. I have fometimes plucked off a leg, which grew again in two or three days. At firft it dreaded my approach to its web, but at laft it became fo familiar as to take a fly out of my hand, and upon my touching any part of the web, would immediately leave its hole, prepared either for a defence or an attack. To complete this defcription, it may be observed, that the male spiders are much less than the female, and that the latter are eoviparous. When they come to lay, they fpread a part of their web under the eggs, and then roll them up carefully, as we roll up things in a cloth, and thus hatch them in their hole. If difturbed in their holes, they never attempt to efcape without carrying this young brood in their forceps away with them, and thus frequently are facrificed to their paternal affection. As foon as ever the young ones leave their artificial covering, they begin to fpin, and almost senfibly seem to grow bigger. If they have the good fortune, when even but a day old, to catch a fly, they fall too with good appetites; but they live fometimes three or four days without any fort of fuftenance, and yet ftill continue to grow larger, fo as every day to double their former fize. As they grow old, however, they do not ftill continue to increase, but their legs only continue to grow longer; and when a fpider becomes entirely ftiff with age, and unable to feize its prey, it dies at length of hunger. THE THE CHARACTERISTICS OF GREATNESS. IN This enterprifing fpirit is, however, by no means the character of the prefent age; every person who fhould now leave received opinions, who fhould attempt to be more than a commentator upon philofophy, or an imitator in polite learning, might be regarded as a chimerical projector. Hundreds would be ready not only to point out his errors, but to load him with reproach. Our probable opinions are now regarded as certainties; the difficulties hitherto undiscovered as utterly inscrutable; and the writers of the laft age inimitable, and therefore the propereft models of imitation. One might be almoft induced to deplore the philofophic fpirit of the age, which in proportion as it enlightens the mind, increases its timidity, and repreffes the vigour of every undertaking. Men are now content with being prudently in the right; VOL. IV. P which, which, though not the way to make new acquifitions, it must be owned, is the beft method of fecuring what we have. Yet this is certain, that the writer who never deviates, who never hazards a new thought, or a new expreffion, though his friends may compliment him upon his fagacity, though criticism lifts her feeble voice in his praife, will feldom arrive at any degree of perfection. The way to acquire lafting efteem, is not by the fewness of a writer's faults, but the greatnefs of his beauties, and our nobleft works are generally moft replete with both. An author, who would be fublime, often runs his thought into burlesque; yet I can readily pardon his mistaking ten times for once fucceeding. True Genius walks along a line, and perhaps our greatest pleasure is in feeing it fo often near falling, without being ever actually down. Every science has its hitherto undiscovered myfteries, after which men fhould travel undiscouraged by the failure of former adventurers. Every new attempt ferves perhaps to facilitate its future invention. We may not find the Philofopher's ftone, but we fhall probably hit upon new inventions in pursuing it. We fhall perhaps never be able to discover the longitude, yet perhaps we may arrive at new truths in the investigation. Were any of thofe fagacious minds among us, (and furely no nation, or no period could ever compare with us in this particular) were any of those minds, I fay, who now fit down contented with exploring the intricacies of another's fyftem, bravely to fhake off admiration, and undazzled with the fplendour of another's reputation, to chalk out a path to fame for themselves, and boldly cultivate untried experiment, what might not be the refult of their inquiries, should the fame ftudy that has made them wife, make them enterprifing alfo? What could |