Of course Gilbert permits himself some speculation as to the nature of the agent with which he was dealing. He thought of it, reasoned about it, pursued it in every way; and came to the conclusion that it must be something extremely tenuous indeed, but yet substantial, ponderable, material. "As air is the effluvium of the earth," he says, "so electrified bodies have an effluvium of their own, which they emit when stimulated or excited"; and again: "It is probable that amber exhales something peculiar that attracts the bodies themselves." These views are quite in line with the electronic theory of electricity in vogue to-day, which invests that elusive entity with an atomic structure. It is held that the tiny particles or electrons that are shot out from the cathode terminal of a vacuum tube with astounding velocity are none other than particles of negative electricity, pure and simple. They have mass and inertia, both of which properties are held to be entirely electrical, though quite analogous to the mass and inertia of ordinary, ponderable matter. History shows that scientific theories have their periods of infancy, maturity and decay. When they have served their purpose, like the scaffolding of a building, they are removed from sight and stored away, say, in a limbo of discarded philosophy, for use of the historian of science or of the metaphysician writing on the nature of human knowledge. Such was the fate of Gilbert's "effluvium" theory of electricity, of the fluid theories of Dufay and Franklin, and the ether-strain theory of recent years. "Each physical hypothesis," says Prof. Fleming, "serves as a lamp to conduct us a certain stage in the journey. It illumines a limited portion of the path, throwing light before and behind for some distance; but it has to be discarded and exchanged at intervals because it has become exhausted and because its work is done."