Antwerp, on a late occasion, so keep within their strong casemates as to be tolerably secure from observation, as well as annoyance. I had an opportunity lately of seeing some of their domestic arrangements, the description of which may interest you.
Upon the brow of a small rounded eminence there stood a sort of a pillar of clay, about five feet high, which had once filled up the centre of a hollowed tree; the shell of which had been from time to time broken and burned away. This pillar was the work of white ants. As it interfered with the working of the plough, I commenced breaking and digging it down; not without some small curiosity. Numbers of centipedes were found about the outside, where pieces of the wood still remained. The clay, which was surprisingly stiff, hard, and dry, broke off in large fragments. At length, near the level of the surface of the ground, a rounded crust was un- covered, looking like the crown of a dome. On breaking through this, the whole city of the ants was laid bare—a wonderful mass of cells, pillars, chambers, and passages.—The spade sunk perhaps two feet among the crisp and cracking ruins, which seemed formed either of the excavated remnants of the tree, or a thin shell-like cement of clay. The arrangement of the interior was singular: the central part had the appearance of innumerable small branching pillars, like the
