And yet, in the execution of these beautiful and elaborate webs, the fine threads of which are placed with such nicety, and at such regular distances one from another, that they have procured for their manufacturers the specific title of “_geometric_,” the spider is guided entirely by the sense of touch. This is proved by the fact that when confined in total darkness it will spin webs as truly as by daylight; but the test is hardly necessary, since, as the eyes of the spider are situated on the front part of its head, whereas the threads issue from the spinnarets at the extremity of its body and are guided by the hind pair of legs, sight, it is evident, could hardly aid in the process. Does reason, therefore, enter into the process of web-making, or is it merely an instinctive one? This being a difficult question to answer, instead of doing so I will quote the minute and interesting account given by Thompson in his _Passions of Animals_ of how the spider spins its web under ordinary conditions, premising, however, that, in almost every point, different people, who all write as though they had been witnesses of what they describe, appear to differ in their opinion. This remark applies also to the structure of the thread itself, for whilst Wood and Blackwell, as we have just seen, say that this differs essentially in the two parts of the web, Kirby and Spence, who are followed by Professor Romanes, believe it to be one and the same. Büchner, too, speaks of the “high degree of elasticity” of the radii as against the “moderate share” of it, which is all that Blackwell allows them, and so on—ample encouragement this, surely, to observe spiders for ourselves, since whatever we may think, there is sure to be someone respectable to agree with us.