dents which threaten them? how comes it that the rain does not penetrate their habitation, open as it is on every side? these simple questions appear to have obtained the attention of no naturalist before Huber. On closely watching the appearance of one of these nests, he found it undergoing an hourly change, and that the apertures, so spacious in the middle of the day, gradually diminished in size towards the evening, and at night entirely disappeared; the dome became closed in every part, and all the ants were concealed within. In order to accomplish this, the ants draw into the openings little bits of wood, placing them across the entrance and sinking the ends in the covering of the hill; they then fetch others, laying them across the first, and so continue selecting other pieces, smaller and smaller as the work advances towards its accomplishment, and finally close the opening with bits of dried leaves, and similar materials.

In the morning a few ants may be seen wandering about the exterior of the nest, the number gradually increasing as others emerge from the interior, under the little roofs formed at the entrance of each avenue, and these soon set to work, and begin to clear away the barricades. This employment continues for hours, until at length the apertures are sufficiently extended, and the materials used in closing them distributed over the exterior of the nest. This is a daily labour unless it rains, or the morning threatens rain; and if after it has been performed rain come on, they hasten to close the apertures as at night.

At its commencement the nest is simply an excavation made in the earth: a number of the labourers wander about

in quest of materials suitable for the superstructure; others carry out particles of earth from the interior, and these particles, interspersed with the fragments of wood and leaves brought in continually from every quarter, give a

kind of stability to the edifice: it daily increases in size, the ants taking care to leave the spaces required for the galleries which lead to the exterior. The dome contains a number of spacious chambers, excavated by the labourers in the solid, compact substance of the edifice itself; but though spacious, these chambers are low, irregular in figure, and carelessly constructed, but convenient nevertheless for the purpose for which they are intended, that of containing the larvæ and pupæ at certain hours of the day. These chambers communicate with each other by means of galleries constructed in a similar manner.

It is in these chambers that the eggs are first deposited by the parent, and respecting the eggs a remarkable fact has been observed; on watching them from day to day, after their being first laid by the female, they have been found not only continually to vary in colour and form, but to increase in size long before the emancipation of the larva or grub from its shell, an event which takes place at the end of fifteen days. On extrusion the body is perfectly transparent, the head and abdominal segments alone being visible; the larvæ have neither legs nor antennæ, and are solely dependant on the labourers for support. They are most carefully protected by a number of labourers, who stand around them as a body-guard, each having its body bent and its sting protruded, ready for an instant attack on any insect enemy that might perchance have found its way into the interior of the nest. At the same time other labourers, in the chambers but apparently not on duty, appear to be spending the time of relaxation in sleep.

Ants do not prepare for their larvæ any particular kind of food, as is the case with bees and some other insects, but give them day by day whatever suitable food they meet with in the course of their peregrinations. The larvæ, although apparently so helpless, are sufficiently knowing to

demand and receive their food; lengthening their bodies, and with their mouths sucking the mouths of the labourers, as little birds stretch out their necks and open their bills on the approach of their parents. The labourer opens his mouth, and gives to his little charge the required supply. As the larvæ increase in size and strength, the aliment provided for them becomes daily more solid and nutritious.

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When the larvæ have attained their full growth they spin a silken covering, called by entomologists a cocoon: in this they completely enclose themselves, and remain perfectly quiescent without receiving any nutriment, awaiting the final change when they are to assume the form of perfect ants. This stage of its existence is the pupa, but is commonly, although very erroneously, called the egg. Ants' eggs," as they are vulgarly called, are a favourite food for partridges and pheasants, and are eagerly sought after by persons who rear these birds from the egg. The cocoon containing the pupa is of a long cylindrical form, of a dirty white colour, and is perfectly without motion. The pupa within the cocoon has now attained the form which it will finally possess; its limbs are distinct, but want strength and consistence, and are covered by a skin which has yet to be cast. In colour it changes from white to a pale yellow, then to red, and finally becomes almost black; its wings, if a male or female, are distinctly visible, but do not assume the shape, size, or character, they are hereafter destined to bear.

As the laying of eggs continues for some weeks, and each egg is hatched, as before stated, at a period of fifteen days, it necessarily follows that the family, although equally progressing towards maturity, must be in different stages, so that eggs, larvæ of all sizes, and pupæ, abound in the nest at the same time. When the rays of the sun warm the exterior of a nest thus stocked with inhabitants, a most

animated scene takes place. The ants on the exterior are the first to feel the influence of the warmth: they enter the nest, run along the avenues and galleries to the various chambers, and communicate the intelligence to every ant they meet, tapping one gently with their antennæ, and even biting another severely with their mandibles. At last the whole colony seems to partake of the excitement, and each labourer then carefully takes a larva or pupa in its mouth, conveys it through all the winding passages to the outside, and places it in such a position as to receive the rays of the sun. This operation is attended with vast exertion, for the pupa of the females are often more than double the weight of the labourers who carry them, and are not to be conveyed through the long circuitous passages without a labour that appears almost incredible. Notwithstanding, however, the difficulties which have to be overcome in placing the larvæ and pupa in this situation, they are seldom allowed to receive the full rays of the sun for a longer time than fifteen or twenty minutes, and are then conveyed into little cells, constructed on the exterior of the nest purposely to receive them, and protected from the too great ardour of the sun's rays, by a slight covering of chaff, stubble, or other light matter. As the heat of the sun decreases in the afternoon, the larvæ and pupæ are again fully exposed to it for a short season as before, and are then carefully returned one by one, through the almost interminable passages, each into the identical chamber from which in the morning it was originally brought; and now the time of feeding has arrived, and this duty has to be carefully performed.

But it is not only to the sunning and feeding of the larvæ that the care of the labourers in their behalf extends. It is an addition of duty to keep the larvæ clean, and perfectly free from all impurities; and it is an almost incessant

occupation to lick them over and over, cleansing every part of the body, and keeping it in a state of the most perfect whiteness. This care commences with the extrusion of the larva from the egg, and ceases not until it is about to assume the ensuing state of pupa or nymph.

As soon as the insect is sufficiently mature to issue from the cocoon into which we have before traced it, the assistance of the labourers is again required. The pupæ of ants, unlike those of other insects, know not how to escape from their self-wrought shroud, by moistening its texture and cutting it with their mandibles. They scarcely possess sufficient strength to enable them to move. The cocoon in which they are enclosed is of too compact a texture, and of too strong a material, for the unassisted prisoner to tear it open. How the indefatigable assistants ascertain the exact period when it requires to be liberated, remains, and ever must remain, a profound secret. They may be observed mounting on a cocoon when its occupant has arrived at maturity; they may be seen scraping away the silken texture, and, having inserted their mandibles into the aperture, using them as we use a pair of scissors, cutting across the cocoon in a direct line.

At the period of emancipating the winged ants a great deal of excitement prevails in the nest. Some of the labourers may be seen arduously at work, in the operation of cutting open a cocoon, while others with great gentleness are drawing through the aperture the newly-born mother of a future colony. The labour of these assiduous attendants does not end here; for when the perfect ant is at last drawn from its cocoon, it is not in a state to take its flight and provide for itself; on the contrary, it is weak and helpless, and every part of its body and limbs is swathed in a delicate satiny membrane or skin, which has to be carefully removed before it can even stand upon its