difficult thing to be understood, so, I think, the writers of penny fiction, in clothing very conventional thoughts in rather high-faluting English, have found the secret of success. Each reader says

66

to himself (or herself), That is my thought, which I would have myself expressed in those identical words, if I had only known how."-The Nineteenth Century.

"Go to the ant, thou sluggard," says Solomon. But we are not quite sure that Solomon, if he had to advise the Irish farmer at least, would be inclined to insist so much on the ant's example. It is true that as a farmer, as we shall show, the ant is not only industrious, but very capable. The agricultural ant of Texas achieves wonders. But it achieves wonders with a little too much of the method of the Irish Land League. Not that it has discovered the art of Boycotting its comrades, but that it does at times adopt a sort of physical compulsion which dispenses with all need for that operation. In short, the agricultural ant, being a communist by profession, naturally invents methods of compulsion which are appropriate to the life of the commune, and not appropriate to societies in which there is any attempt to cultivate what has been called "the individuality of the individual." But before we touch on this part of our subject, let us show what admirable achievements in farming the agricultural ant has accomplished. In the amusing book of Mr. McCook, of Philadelphia, "The Natural History of the Agricultural Ant of Texas, recently published in the United States, we have a most fascinating account of one great tribe belonging to that species of insects which has achieved a pastoral as well as an agricultural.career. That the ant is a cowkeeper, and milks its aphides as carefully as a dairyman milks his cows, has long been admitted. But that there exists an ant so far at least a farmer as to gather in its grain harvest against the winter, and often even to husk its grain before storing it in the granaries, has been strenuously denied, in spite of Solomon's assertion of the fact, till the late Mr. Moggridge and others re-established this point within the last few years. Mr. McCook, by his careful study of the habits of the agricultural

ant of Texas, has put the farming talents. of the insect up to a certain point beyond doubt. It is true, he does not be lieve, though he does not deny, that the Texas ant itself sows the seeds of the crop which it expects to reap. He thinks the facts, so far as they are known to him, rather point to the supposition that the agricultural ant simply permits the growth within its enclosure of the particular plant whose seeds it wishes to harvest, while carefully clearing all other grasses away. But thus much appears to be certain-that during the ants' partial winter hibernation, grasses of all sorts grow over the disks which the agricultural ants are in the habit of clearing round the principal gate of their nest; that in the early spring, these ants clear away all this winter vegetation completely; but that by May the clearings of all those kinds of agricultural ants which have a flat disk round their chief entrance are more or less overgrown with one plant, and one only-the Aristida Oligantha, whose seeds they love to harvest and to feed on. Mr. McCook himself believes that this growth is permitted by the ant within its enclosure, on account of the greater convenience of harvesting the seed, while every other growth is carefully arrested and exterminated. "It seems hardly credible," he says, "that the energy and skill which enabled these creatures to wholly clear away a winter growth which had overrun the disks, should be foiled in the effort to keep them clear." Mr. McCook describes carefully the operations by which this ant clears away the grasses it wants to get rid of. An ant goes to the root and bites, pulls, and twists at it, with a view to sever the stem at this point. Often after making a great incision, it will run up the leaf, and hang by the end of it, in order to increase the fracture by thus pulling it to the ground. Sometimes, while one ant

continues to gnaw away at the root, another will run up the leaf, and hang with its whole sinall weight from the extremity. As a result of all this work, the clearing is usually left with the stunted grass-stumps, precisely resembling on a minute scale the clearing which a backwoodsman effects in an American forest. Thus Mr. McCook says of the tufts of grass in the ants' clearing: "The stumps were dry, quite dead and black, and stood slightly above the surface, as the soil had been removed from between the grarled rootlets. These tiny objects were spread over the inner section of the clearing. The whole so vividly recalled the pioneer scenes in Western forests with which I was familiar in boyhood that I could not rid myself of the impression that the ants had wrought much on the same principle as the pioneers, who, having chopped down the trees and cleared away the timber and bush, leave the stumps afield, that the roots may loosen by natural decay, so that the stumps may be more easily removed and burned." The agricultural ants of Texas garner in their seed-harvest only after the grain has dropped from the stalk, but the Atta crudelis of Florida and Georgia does more-it mounts the stalk, and severs the ripe grain while still growing on the stalk. In fact, it reaps as well as garners in the grain; and this Mr. McCook proved for himself by sticking stalks of millet upright into the box where a nest of ants of this kind were confined; these stalks the ants mounted, and cut the grain away. In Texas, Mr. McCook found that the agricultural ant, when it was by any chance overshadowed by a peach-tree, deliberately stripped the tree of all its leaves, as this ant cannot bear to live in the shade; and if it cannot destroy an overshadowing tree, or strip it of its leaves, it will migrate, and build itself a nest more exposed to the sun, rather than remain in the shadow. That the ant garners in great stores of grain, and not only garners it in, but, in case of injury from rain, brings out the moistened grain to dry again in the sun, Mr. McCook had the fullest proof; so that we may say, on the authority of this very cautious and scrupulous writer, that the agricultural ant of Texas rivals the farm

ing operations of man, at least on these heads-it makes a clearing round its home; it encourages the growths it approves, and exterminates all others; it garners the grain when it is ripe, and stores it away in granaries; it husks much of this grain; it brings it out to dry when injured by moisture, and then stores it away again; and some of the allied tribes of ants not only do all this, but also reap the grain while still growing on the stalk. And all this the ant does, in addition to the very elaborate mining operations by which it constructs the various chambers of its subterranean dwelling. No human farmer is at the same time a most effective miner. the agricultural ant of Texas is bath, and spends even more of its energy and skill on mining than it spends on farming.

But

But now, how are these great results attained? Clearly, to a great extent, by the complete merging of the individual self in the tribal self-which, as we are told by the modern moralists, is the great goal even of human morality. Mr. McCook has accumulated curious evidence that the agricultural ant hardly develops his proper nature at all except under the stimulus of a considerable society; and thus is so often required to merge his individuality in the communal impulse of the tribe, that however little he shares that impulse, he hardly ever finds it worth while to struggle against it. "Three ants in a small jar remained for a number of days upon the surface of the soil, without the slightest attempt at digging; they fed freely, lapped moisture, were evidently healthy, but would not dig; they were reinforced by four individuals from the same nest, but more recent arrivals from Texas. The newcomers breathed fresh vitality into the inactive three, and in a little while the gallery-making was going merrily on."

So far, there is nothing but respect due to ants who would not undertake a work requiring much co-operation with inadequate means. But when we come to look at the means adopted to enforce the communal will on the ants' individual wills, we can hardly give them equal praise. Mr. McCook speaks extremely well of the individual unselfishness of ants, having watched them constantly, both in confinement and in

their free life. He says that the selfish fighting for food observable among cattle is hardly to be observed at all among ants. "I have never but once-and my observations have not been tew-seen among them any such show of selfishness and bullying. The single exception was a large-headed Floridian crudelis, who compelled a small worker to retire from a juicy bit of croton-seed in order to enjoy it herself. It is to be noted that this exception occurred with one of the soldier caste, not with a worker proper." But the coercion which was never applied in the interest of the individual self, was applied with great severity in the interest of the tribal self, and this though, so far as Mr. McCook believes, there is no official government of the community to issue orders which the nation are expected to obey. Momentous communal resolves, even when they are of so important a character as to determine a migration--all originate with enthusiastic individuals whose example is catching, so that the resolve is, as it were, carried by acclamation. When, however, any movement of this kind takes place, there is often a dissentient minority who do not agree in the general wish for a change of place or policy, and the question is how to deal with these cases. The mode of doing so is curious. It appears that, as a rule, the result is always this-that the malcontents are carried-without any great resistance-by the enthusiasts to the new nest or new scene of operations, are constrained as it were by force, but by a force to which they are not wholly indisposed to yield; and then, when they have been thus constrained, they recognize the new condition as a de facto though unconstitutional order of things, to which they bow, having liberated their conscience by the endurance of this partial coercion. Here is Mr. McCook's account of such an affair:

“ April 16th, in digging around the old tree in order to trace the number and position of the galleries, I greatly agitated the nest. The principal gate seemed to be just within the hollow trunk. Galleries extended into the hill underneath and behind the tree, the decayed roots being also apparently used as galleries. After the invasion of the nest the ants began,

neighboring stones.

The

One

gate and other doors in the hill and under I could not clearly make out the special object of this movement, although I supposed, of course, that it bore upon the repair and protection of the formicary. Two hours afterward I revisited the spot. same busy dragging of refuse continued. ant was observed carrying a comrade into the hollow trunk. Searching in the direction from which she seemed to have come, I presently found another, and still another carrier. A slightly worn path led up the hill, terminating into the ground. Along this path, and issuing about eleven feet from the old tree, in a gate chiefly from this gate, but also from underneath

stones near by, moved a column of carrierants, every one of whom was burdened with a In a few moments I counted comrade. The deported ants were seized by the mantwenty-one of these passing along the path. dibles of the carriers on or below the mesothorax, the back being downward; their heads were bent forward, the abdomen turned up, the

legs drawn up and huddled together. The body was motionless; not the slightest sign of resistance or of struggling to get free was observed. I teased several of the carriers until the deported were released. One of the prisAnother was evidently confused for a moment, oners then made an effort to resist recapture.

then turned back and ascended the hill. A third was carried quite to the opening in the trunk, when, in pushing under a straw that overhung the path, the carrier stuck fast in the narrow gangway. Before this, such obstacles were readily flanked. Now, however, the car

rier abandoned her comrade, thinking, perhaps, that having reached the strong swirl and current of activity that surrounded the main gate, she would need no further coercion. Such, at least, proved to be the case, for the deported ant, after a momentary confusion, passed under the arch and was lost to sight within the cavity. Her captor and carrier, meanwhile, seemed utterly indifferent as to her whilom prisoner and her conduct, but having paused a little space to repair her toilet, straggled listlessly into the hollow. A fourth ant, when first noticed, was in the act of dragging a comrade by a leg into the cavity, where presently

she was left.'

Such is the mode in which the tribal self prevails over the individual self among the ants. The reluctant ants invite coercion, as it were, which the enthusiasts apply, and then the need for coercion ceases. Is it not the nearest approximation we can conceive among the world of insects to the action of the Irish Land League now? And is not the lesson worth learning? Are not the Irish farmers emulating the self-obliteration of the ants, in their utter helplessness to assert their individual conscience against

wood, straw, earth, etc., some of them many times larger than themselves, into the main

policy of their tribe?—The Spectator.

LIGHT, whether obtained direct from the sun by day or from artificial sources by night, is generally accompanied by more or less heat. But there is one kind of light about which much has been written, and with regard to the nature of which little is known, which shines without giving the slightest indication of warmth. This strange light, which will not affect the most delicate thermometer, is known as phosphorescence. The name has been given to it not because the substances which exhibit the phenomenon are in any way allied with phosphorus, but because the light emitted by them is apparently of the same nature as that given by the slow oxidation of phosphorus. The subject of phosphoric light has lately received attention from the circumstance that a luminous paint has recently been introduced, and is coming into practical use for various purposes, which depends for its action upon the phosphorescence of the chemicals composing it.

In tracing the history of this remarkable property of certain substances, we must look back to the year 1602. At this time, when the feverish search for what was termed the philosopher's stone, and the dream of transmuting the baser metals into gold, were at their height, there lived in Bologna a certain cobbler, by name Vincenzo Casciorolo, who found time to lay aside his last and his awl for a little occasional dabbling in alchemy. One day, while walking in the vicinity of the city, he picked up a stone, and was immediately struck with its unusual weight. Could this be the philosopher's stone? was his first thought. The prize was taken home, and speedily placed with some charcoal in a crucible, while Vincenzo eagerly watched for the gold to flow forth. In this he was of course disappointed; but his labors resulted in a discovery which surprised and puzzled him. The stone had become luminous; that is to say, after exposure to sunlight it retained and emitted in the dark the light it had received. The mineral picked up by this poor cobbler was barium sulphate, which by his operation in the crucible was changed to barium sulphide, one of

the most phosphorescent bodies known. It is often called Bologna Stone, from the circumstances just detailed, and up to recent times was sold in the streets of that town as a curiosity of the district.

Some vears later a German chemist named Margraaf found a more ready method of preparing barium sulphide; and also found that many other substances exhibited the same curious properties. In 1663 the great English chemist Boyle detected phosphorescence in certain specimens of the diamond; and a few years later phosphorus itself was produced by Brandt. It is worthy of note that this discovery was also due to the unceasing search after the philosopher's stone.

It is

The subject slept for nearly one hundred years, when Canton, by calcining oyster shells with sulphur, obtained sulphide of calcium, known to this day as Canton's Phosphorus. A glass tube containing some of this compound prepared by Canton himself, and engraved with the date 1764, is still extant. a remarkable circumstance that this specimen, more than one hundred years old, is still as actively phosphorescent as compounds newly made. In 1792 Wedgwood experimented with various substances, and published the results in the "Philosophical Transactions." there gives a long list of different bodies which become luminous after insolation, or after exposure to sunlight.

M. Niépce, who was associated with Daguerre in the early days of photography, also contributed the results of some extraordinary observations to the subject of what may be called invisible phosphorescence. He found that if a key were laid upon a sheet of white paper and exposed to sunlight, and then taken into a dark chamber and the key removed, a spectral and gradually fading image of the key was observable upon the paper for some seconds afterward. He found, moreover, that a sheet of paper so treated and laid aside for months would again show the image of the key when warmed upon a hot plate. Such an experiment as this can be more easily verified than explained. Another strange discovery due to Niepce was this-that an engraving exposed to

sunlight, and afterward placed in the dark in contact with photographic paper, will imprint its image upon the sensitive surface, although that surface has never itself seen the light. This strange and unaccountable phenomenon seems akin to one that modern photographers have constantly to guard against. It is found in more than one of the rapid dry-plate processes, that the exposure in the camera has to be lessened, if the plates have to be kept long before the completing operations of development and fixation; or the resulting pictures are rendered too dense by the continuing action of light upon the plates, although they are shut up in light-tight receptacles. These curious results will no doubt be investigated by competent minds. They may possibly explain some of those tricks in connection with photographic portraiture which have been attributed by charlatans to so-called spiritualistic agency.

The entire subject of phosphorescence has within recent years been closely investigated by M. Becquerel, who has done more than any one man to tabulate and arrange the known facts concerning it. He has not only immensely enlarged the list of substances which can be called phosphorescent, but he has invented an instrument called the phosphoroscope, by which many more may yet be added to the category. The phosphoroscope consists of a blackened metallic box with two openings, one for the illumination of the substance under examination, and the other for observation. By the action of a quickly rotating screen, these two orifices are never open at the same time. The observer can note only the appearance of the substance he is examining immediately after it has been submitted to light. By this means it is found that innumerable things, hitherto unsuspected of retaining light, such as paper, teeth, Iceland spar, etc., are unquestionably phosphorescent for a short time after insolation, while quartz, sulphur, and notably phosphorus, remain perfectly dark. There is no doubt that the luminous paint which is now attracting public attention is due to the researches of Edmond Becquerel.

There are many authentic records of luminous drops of rain seen in certain storms. This, and the well-known fire

of St. Elmo-seen on ships' masts and spars-are no doubt due to atmospheric electricity. To the same cause can be traced the luminosity apparent occasionally in waterspouts. Certain flowers, too, and particularly those of an orange color, such as the tiger-lily, nasturtium, and others, have been noticed to emit flashes of fire under peculiar conditions of the atmosphere. In Brazil a plant is known the juice of which applied to paper will become phosphorescent in darkness. Many fungi exhibit the same property, and more particularly a species found in certain mines in Sweden, and also in Germany, where they are known as vegetable glow-worms.

In the animal kingdom we have many examples of phosphorescence, confined almost exclusively to lower organisms. The beautiful luminous appearance of the sea is in a great measure due to a tiny organism termed Notiluca miliaris. There are also decided examples to be met with among the annelids, mollusks, crustaceans, fish, etc., and many insects. The glow-worm itself has afforded a theme for poets ever since men knew how to transmit their thoughts to paper; but as far as its light-giving powers are concerned, it still remains a mystery. It seems that it can emit light or not at will, and that this power is exercised at certain times. It is also proved that the light given is without heat.

Certain substances, both animal and vegetable, become luminous just before putrefaction; veal and lamb have been known to exhibit the property; and decaying potatoes will often become strongly luminous. To decaying vegetable matter may also be traced the wellknown gas termed Will-o'-the-wisp.

About two years ago some clocks were imported from France which possessed dials which, after exposure to sunlight, remained luminous in the dark, so that the time could be observed during the night without a lamp. This was the first introduction of the compound now known as Balmain's luminous paint. Mr. Balmain, who has recently died, was a chemist, and a friend of Becquerel's. It occurred to him to mix the various phosphorescent compounds perfected by the latter with different media, such as oils and varnishes, so that they could be applied to different substances,