There is much that passes muster as acts of generosity which, if
spiritually analyzed, would be found to be merely selfish policy, like
that exercised by the spider:
The moment an ill-starred fly or other insect comes in contact
with the net of the spider, it is sprung upon with the rapidity
of lightning, and if the captured insect be of small size the
spider conveys it at once to the place of slaughter, and having
at its leisure sucked all its juice, throws out the carcass. If
the insect be large and struggles to escape, the spider envelops
its prey in a mesh of thread, and its legs and wings secured,
it is conveyed to its den and devoured. But when a bee or large
fly, too powerful to be mastered by the spider, gets entangled
in its toils, then the wary animal, conscious of its incapacity
to contend with such fearful odds, makes no attempt to seize or
embarrass the victim. On the contrary, it assists the entangled
captive in its efforts to free itself, and often goes so far
as to break that part of the web from which it is suspended.
This act has upon it the color of generosity, but it is really
nothing more than the performance of selfish cunning. The
tyrant, feeling himself incapable of doing an injury, determines
to have no molestation. To this end he performs an act of
manumission.
(2404)
=Polish=--See EDUCATION.