The Atlantic Monthly | Page 2

the South, and is almost ready to exclaim,
"Can any good thing come out of Nazareth?" may now perhaps discern
a spot, small indeed, but brilliant, on the very edge of the dark Carolina
cloud; and it may not be too much to hope that, in course of time, the
cords of our spider's golden and silver silk may prove potent bonds of
union with the first of the rebellious States.
As to the mathematician who believes in the inborn tendency of
mankind to variation and imperfection, and holds up to us, as shining
examples of mathematical accuracy, the work of certain insects, and
who--since Professor Wyman has shown that the hexagonal form of the
bee's cell is not of original design, but rather the necessary result of
difficulties met and overcome in the most economical manner, though
by no means always with perfect exactness and uniformity--has fallen
back upon the ancient and still prevalent belief in the precise
construction of the spider's web, (which, as will be seen, really displays
it no more than does the bee's cell,)--to this disappointed man of
geometry and figures is now offered the alternative of either finding a
new and truer illustration, or of abandoning his position entirely.
Let us, then, wait till we have seen this spider and heard his story. His
story! That reminds me of another class which may possibly be
represented among my readers, and whose members, in the
contemplation of the domestic economy of these insects, will, I fear,
discover many and weighty arguments in favor of the various opinions
entertained by the advocates of Woman's Rights; for here is a
community in which the females not only far exceed the males in
number, but present so great a contrast to them in size and importance,
that, but for absolute proof, they never would be regarded as belonging
to the same species.
Here, then, is a life-size picture of our spider and of--I was about to say,
his partner; but in truth it is she who is the spider, and he is only her
partner. Such is the real physical, and, so to speak, mental superiority
of the female, that, even if we insist upon the legal equality at least of
the masculine element, we can do so only in name, and will find it hard

to avoid speaking of him as the male of the Nephila plumipes, thus
tacitly admitting her as the truer representative of the species. Their
relative size and appearance are shown by the figures; but it may be
added that she is very handsome; the fore part of her body, which,
being composed of the head and chest soldered together, is termed
cephalothorax, is glossy-black and covered, except in spots, with white
hairs; she has also upon six of her legs one or two brushes of black
hairs;--while he is an insignificant-looking insect of a dull-brown color
and half-starved look, with only a few scattered bristles upon his
slender limbs. He does nothing for himself, leaving her to make the
web and provide the food, and even to carry him on her back when
removal is necessary; but she makes up for the imposition by keeping
him on short allowance and at a respectful distance, excepting when the
impregnation of her eggs is necessary; and even then she is mistress of
the situation, and, etiam in amoribus sæva, may afterward eat him up.
But of this contrast between the two sexes, of their functions and their
relations to each other, more hereafter. It is sufficient to observe that,
when this spider is mentioned, and the sex is not specified, the female
is always referred to.
[Illustration: Fig. 1. Male and Female Nephila plumipes.]
When, where, and how was this spider discovered? and why is it that
we have never heard of it before? To answer these questions, we must
go back three years, to the 19th of August, 1863, and to the camp of the
Fifty-fifth Regiment of Massachusetts Volunteers, on a desolate island
a little south from the harbor of Charleston, South Carolina, and in
sight of the fortress which Gillmore had just begun to strengthen by the
addition of tons of Union shot and shell, till, from tolerably strong
masonry, its walls became solid earthworks which nothing could pierce
or greatly injure. There, at the north end of Folly Island,--scarce wider
than our camp at that point, and narrower than the magnificent beach
which, at low tide, afforded ample space for the battalion drill,--I found
in a tree a very large and handsome spider, whose web was at least
three feet in diameter.
Glad enough to meet with anything new, and bearing in mind the

interest with which, when a boy, I had watched and recorded the
operations of our common house and