Nor, it would seem, is such an instinct developed amongst other insects, which again seems to show that it cannot be of any great importance. When, therefore, we find that ants, the most wonderful of all insects, do play, this strongly suggests their possession of an intelligence analogous to that of the higher animals. Instinct, however, is largely independent of intelligence, such as we understand it, and therefore, to allude to “the play instinct” in ants before the instinctive character of the act has been made out, is to prejudge the question whether ants are automatic or reasoning beings. The smallness of the passages leading from the interior chamber of _Leptothorax_ to the broad galleries of the _Myrmicas_ suggests that the latter were not intended to pass through them; but we cannot really draw this inference, since an ant in tunnelling would allow for the size of its own body, but not for that of another species. Certain it is that the big ants constantly force their way through the narrow passages, thus partly breaking down the wall, and that they are then received by the little ones in a quite friendly manner, and persuaded to part with some of their interior stores. Still, when this has been effected, their friends seem mildly desirous that they should go, and, as soon as they have gone, set to work to repair the breaches made by their entrance. No sooner has this been done, however, than they are broken down again, and so it may continue, apparently, for an indefinite period, at any rate in nests constructed for observational purposes, and where the conditions are, therefore, more or less artificial. Whether it is so to anything like the same extent under nature may well be doubted, for that any creature should live in a state of never-ending useless labour does not seem likely; and, moreover, unless the one ant could have made itself comfortable within the nest of the other, why should it have become established there at all? But whatever it may be outside the study, this is Professor Wheeler’s account of what fell under his observation: “At one p.m.,” he tells us, “the _Myrmica_ workers discovered the hiding-place of their little companions, and two of them, in single file, shouldered their way through the narrow passage, enlarging it as they proceeded. As soon as the head of the first _Myrmica_ appeared in the chamber, the _Leptothoraxes_ which had been attending to their morning toilet and that of their larvæ, and to the careful arrangement of their eggs, turned to meet the intruders.” “Now dreadful deeds Might have ensued,”