[154] Becquerel, Des Climats, etc., pp. 139-141.

[155] Dr. Williams made some observations on this subject in 1789, and in 1791, but they generally belonged to the warmer months, and I do not know that any extensive series of comparisons between the temperature of the ground in the woods and the fields has been attempted in America. Dr. Williams's thermometer was sunk to the depth of ten inches, and gave the following results:

On the 14th of January, 1791, in a winter remarkable for its extreme severity, he found the ground, on a plain open field where the snow had been blown away, frozen to the depth of three feet and five inches; in the woods where the snow was three feet deep, and where the soil had frozen to the depth of six inches before the snow fell, the thermometer, at six inches below the surface of the ground, stood at 39°. In consequence of the covering of the snow, therefore, the previously frozen ground had been thawed and raised to seven degrees above the freezing point.—Williams's Vermont, i, p. 74.

Bodies of fresh water, so large as not to be sensibly affected by local influences of narrow reach or short duration, would afford climatic indications well worthy of special observation. Lake Champlain, which forms the boundary between the States of New York and Vermont, presents very favorable conditions for this purpose. This lake, which drains a basin of about 6,000 square miles, covers an area, excluding its islands, of about 500 square miles. It extends from lat. 43° 30' to 45° 20', in very nearly a meridian line, has a mean width of four and a half miles, with an extreme breadth, excluding bays almost land-locked, of thirteen miles. Its mean depth is not well known. It is, however, 400 feet deep in some places, and from 100 to 200 in many, and has few shoals or flats. The climate is of such severity that it rarely fails to freeze completely over, and to be safely crossed upon the ice, with heavy teams, for several weeks every winter. Thompson (Vermont, p. 14, and Appendix, p. 9) gives the following table of the times of the complete closing and opening of the ice, opposite Burlington, about the centre of the lake, and where it is ten miles wide.

In 1847, although, at the point indicated, the ice broke up on the 23d of April, it remained frozen much later at the North, and steamers were not able to traverse the whole length of the lake until May 6th.

[156] We are not, indeed, to suppose that condensation of vapor and evaporation of water are going on in the same stratum of air at the same time, or, in other words, that vapor is condensed into raindrops, and raindrops evaporated, under the same conditions; but rain formed in one stratum, may fall through another, where vapor would not be condensed. Two saturated strata of different temperatures may be brought into contact in the higher regions, and discharge large raindrops, which, if not divided by some obstruction, will reach the ground, though passing all the time through strata which would vaporize them if they were in a state of more minute division.

[157] It is perhaps too much to say that the influence of trees upon the wind is strictly limited to the mechanical resistance of their trunks, branches, and foliage. So far as the forest, by dead or by living action, raises or lowers the temperature of the air within it, so far it creates upward or downward currents in the atmosphere above it, and, consequently, a flow of air toward or from itself. These air streams have a certain, though doubtless a very small influence on the force and direction of greater atmospheric movements.

[158] As a familiar illustration of the influence of the forest in checking the movement of winds, I may mention the well-known fact, that the sensible cold is never extreme in thick woods, where the motion of the air is little felt. The lumbermen in Canada and the Northern United States labor in the woods, without inconvenience, when the mercury stands many degrees below the zero of Fahrenheit, while in the open grounds, with only a moderate breeze, the same temperature is almost insupportable. The engineers and firemen of locomotives, employed on railways running through forests of any considerable extent, observe that, in very cold weather, it is much easier to keep up the steam while the engine is passing through the woods than in the open ground. As soon as the train emerges from the shelter of the trees the steam gauge falls, and the stoker is obliged to throw in a liberal supply of fuel to bring it up again.

Another less frequently noticed fact, due, no doubt, in a great measure to the immobility of the air, is, that sounds are transmitted to incredible distances in the unbroken forest. Many instances of this have fallen under my own observation, and others, yet more striking, have been related to me by credible and competent witnesses familiar with a more primitive condition of the Anglo-American world. An acute observer of natural phenomena, whose childhood and youth were spent in the interior of one of the newer New England States, has often told me that when he established his home in the forest, he always distinctly heard, in still weather, the plash of horses' feet, when they forded a small brook nearly seven-eighths of a mile from his house, though a portion of the wood that intervened consisted of a ridge seventy or eighty feet higher than either the house or the ford.

I have no doubt that, in such cases, the stillness of the air is the most important element in the extraordinary transmissibility of sound; but it must be admitted that the absence of the multiplied and confused noises, which accompany human industry in countries thickly peopled by man, contributes to the same result. We become, by habit, almost insensible to the familiar and never-resting voices of civilization in cities and towns; but the indistinguishable drone, which sometimes escapes even the ear of him who listens for it, deadens and often quite obstructs the transmission of sounds which would otherwise be clearly audible. An observer, who wishes to appreciate that hum of civic life which he cannot analyze, will find an excellent opportunity by placing himself on the hill of Capo di Monte at Naples, in the line of prolongation of the street called Spaccanapoli.

It is probably to the stillness of which I have spoken, that we are to ascribe the transmission of sound to great distances at sea in calm weather. In June, 1853, I and my family were passengers on board a ship of war bound up the Ægean. On the evening of the 27th of that month, as we were discussing, at the tea table, some observations of Humboldt on this subject, the captain of the ship told us that he had once heard a single gun at sea at the distance of ninety nautical miles. The nest morning, though a light breeze had sprung up from the north, the sea was of glassy smoothness when we went on deck. As we came up, an officer told us that he had heard a gun at sunrise, and the conversation of the previous evening suggested the inquiry whether it could have been fired from the combined French and English fleet then lying at Beshika Bay. Upon examination of our position we were found to have been, at sunrise, ninety sea miles from that point. We continued beating up northward, and between sunrise and twelve o'clock meridian of the 28th, we had made twelve miles northing, reducing our distance from Beshika Bay to seventy-eight sea miles. At noon we heard several guns so distinctly that we were able to count the number. On the 29th we came up with the fleet, and learned from an officer who came on board that a royal salute had been fired at noon on the 28th, in honor of the day as the anniversary of the Queen of England's coronation. The report at sunrise was evidently the morning gun, those at noon the salute.

Such cases are rare, because the sea is seldom still, and the κυμάτων ἀνήριθμον γέλασμα rarely silent, over so great a space as ninety or even seventy-eight nautical miles. I apply the epithet silent to γέλασμα advisedly. I am convinced that Æschylus meant the audible laugh of the waves, which is indeed of countless multiplicity, not the visible smile of the sea, which, belonging to the great expanse as one impersonation, is single, though, like the human smile, made up of the play of many features.

[159] "The presence of watery vapor in the air is general. * * * Vegetable surfaces are endowed with the power of absorbing gases, vapors, and also, no doubt, the various soluble bodies which are presented to them. The inhalation of humidity is carried on by the leaves upon a large scale; the dew of a cold summer night revives the groves and the meadows, and a single shower of rain suffices to refresh the verdure of a forest which a long drought had parched."—Schacht, Les Arbres, ix, p. 340.

The absorption of the vapor of water by leaves is disputed. "The absorption of watery vapor by the leaves of plants is, according to Unger's experiments, inadmissible."—Wilhelm, Der Boden und das Wasser, p. 19. If this latter view is correct, the apparently refreshing effects of atmospheric humidity upon vegetation must be ascribed to moisture absorbed by the ground from the air and supplied to the roots. In some recent experiments by Dr. Sachs, a porous flower-pot, with a plant growing in it, was left unwatered until the earth was dry, and the plant began to languish. The pot was then placed in a glass case containing air, which was kept always saturated with humidity, but no water was supplied, and the leaves of the plant were exposed to the open atmosphere. The soil in the flower pot absorbed from the air moisture enough to revive the foliage, and keep it a long time green, but not enough to promote development of new leaves.—Id., ibid., p. 18.

[160] The experiments of Hales and others, on the absorption and exhalation of water by vegetables, are of the highest physiological interest; but observations on sunflowers, cabbages, hops, and single branches of isolated trees, growing in artificially prepared soils and under artificial conditions, furnish no trustworthy data for computing the quantity of water received and given off by the natural wood.

[161] In the primitive forest, except where the soil is too wet for the dense growth of trees, the ground is generally too thickly covered with leaves to allow much room for ground mosses. In the more open woods of Europe, this form of vegetation is more frequent—as, indeed, are many other small plants of a more inviting character—than in the native American forest. See, on the cryptogams and wood plants, Rossmässler, Der Wald, pp. 33 et seqq.

[162] Emerson (Trees of Massachusetts, p. 493) mentions a maple six feet in diameter, as having yielded a barrel, or thirty-one and a half gallons of sap in twenty-four hours, and another, the dimensions of which are not stated, as having yielded one hundred and seventy-five gallons in the course of the season. The Cultivator, an American agricultural journal, for June, 1842, states that twenty gallons of sap were drawn in eighteen hours from a single maple, two and a half feet in diameter, in the town of Warner, New Hampshire, and the truth of this account has been verified by personal inquiry made in my behalf. This tree was of the original forest growth, and had been left standing when the ground around it was cleared. It was tapped only every other year, and then with six or eight incisions. Dr. Williams (History of Vermont, i, p. 91) says: "A man much employed in making maple sugar, found that, for twenty-one days together, a maple tree discharged seven and a half gallons per day."

An intelligent correspondent, of much experience in the manufacture of maple sugar, writes me that a second-growth maple, of about two feet in diameter, standing in open ground, tapped with four incisions, has, for several seasons, generally run eight gallons per day in fair weather. He speaks of a very large tree, from which sixty gallons were drawn in the course of a season, and of another, something more than three feet through, which made forty-two pounds of wet sugar, and must have yielded not less than one hundred and fifty gallons.

[163] "The buds of the maple," says the same correspondent, "do not start till toward the close of the sugar season. As soon as they begin to swell, the sap seems less sweet, and the sugar made from it is of a darker color, and with less of the distinctive maple flavor."

[164] "In this region, maples are usually tapped with a three-quarter inch bit, boring to the depth of one and a half or two inches. In the smaller trees, one incision only is made, two in those of eighteen inches in diameter, and four in trees of larger size. Two 3/4-inch holes in a tree twenty-two inches in diameter = 1/46 of the circumference, and 1/169 of the area of section."

"Tapping does not check the growth, but does injure the quality of the wood of maples. The wood of trees often tapped is lighter and less dense than that of trees which have not been tapped, and gives less heat in burning. No difference has been observed in the starting of the buds of tapped and untapped trees."—Same correspondent.

[165] Dr. Rush, in a letter to Jefferson, states the number of maples fit for tapping on an acre at from thirty to fifty. "This," observes my correspondent, "is correct with regard to the original growth, which is always more or less intermixed with other trees; but in second growth, composed of maples alone, the number greatly exceeds this. I have had the maples on a quarter of an acre, which I thought about an average of second-growth 'maple orchards,' counted. The number was found to be fifty-two, of which thirty-two were ten inches or more in diameter, and, of course, large enough to tap. This gives two hundred and eight trees to the acre, one hundred and twenty-eight of which were of proper size for tapping."

According to the census returns, the quantity of maple sugar made in the United States in 1850 was 34,253,436 pounds; in 1860, it was 38,863,884 pounds, besides 1,944,594 gallons of molasses. The cane sugar made in 1850 amounted to 237,133,000 pounds; in 1859, to 302,205,000.—Preliminary Report on the Eighth Census, p. 88.

According to Bigelow, Les États Unis d'Amérique en 1863, chap. iv, the sugar product of Louisiana alone for 1862 is estimated at 528,321,500 pounds.

[166] The correspondent already referred to informs me that a black birch, tapped about noon with two incisions, was found the next morning to have yielded sixteen gallons. Dr. Williams (History of Vermont, i, p. 91) says: "A large birch, tapped in the spring, ran at the rate of five gallons an hour when first tapped. Eight or nine days after, it was found to run at the rate of about two and a half gallons an hour, and at the end of fifteen days the discharge continued in nearly the same quantity. The sap continued to flow for four or five weeks, and it was the opinion of the observers that it must have yielded as much as sixty barrels [1,890 gallons]."

[167] "The best state of weather for a good run," says my correspondent, "is clear days, thawing fast in the daytime and freezing well at night, with a gentle west or northwest wind; though we sometimes have clear, fine, thawing days followed by frosty nights, without a good run of sap, I have thought it probable that the irregular flow of sap on different days in the same season is connected with the variation in atmospheric pressure; for the atmospheric conditions above mentioned as those most favorable to a free flow of sap are also those in which the barometer usually indicates pressure considerably above the mean. With a south or southeast wind, and in lowering weather, which causes a fall in the barometer, the flow generally ceases, though the sap sometimes runs till after the beginning of the storm. With a gentle wind, south of west, maples sometimes run all night. When this occurs, it is oftenest shortly before a storm. Last spring, the sap of a sugar orchard in a neighboring town flowed the greater part of the time for two days and two nights successively, and did not cease till after the commencement of a rain storm."

The cessation of the flow of sap at night is perhaps in part to be ascribed to the nocturnal frost, which checks the melting of the snow, of course diminishing the supply of moisture in the ground, and sometimes congeals the strata from which the rootlets suck in water. From the facts already mentioned, however, and from other well-known circumstances—such, for example, as the more liberal flow of sap from incisions on the south side of the trunk—it is evident that the withdrawal of the stimulating influences of the sun's light and heat is the principal cause of the suspension of the circulation in the night.

[168] "The flow ceases altogether soon after the buds begin to swell."—Letter before quoted.

[169] We might obtain a contribution to an approximate estimate of the quantity of moisture abstracted by forest vegetation from the earth and the air, by ascertaining, as nearly as possible, the quantity of wood on a given area, the proportion of assimilable matter contained in the fluids of the tree at different seasons of the year, the ages of the trees respectively, and the quantity of leaf and seed annually shed by them. The results would, indeed, be very vague, but they might serve to check or confirm estimates arrived at by other processes. The following facts are items too loose perhaps to be employed as elements in such a computation.

Dr. Williams, who wrote when the woods of Northern New England were generally in their primitive condition, states the number of trees growing on an acre at from one hundred and fifty to six hundred and fifty, according to their size and the quality of the soil; the quantity of wood, at from fifty to two hundred cords, or from 238 to 952 cubic yards, but adds that on land covered with pines, the quantity of wood would be much greater. Whether he means to give the entire solid contents of the tree, or, as is usual in ordinary estimates in New England, the marketable wood only, the trunks and larger branches, does not appear. Next to the pine, the maple would probably yield a larger amount to a given area than any of the other trees mentioned by Dr. Williams, but mixed wood, in general, measures most. In a good deal of observation on this subject, the largest quantity of marketable wood I have ever known cut on an acre of virgin forest was one hundred and four cords, or 493 cubic yards, and half that amount is considered a very fair yield. The smaller trees, branches, and twigs would not increase the quantity more than twenty-five per cent., and if we add as much more for the roots, we should have a total of about 750 cubic yards. I think Dr. Williams's estimate too large, though it would fall much below the product of the great trees of the Mississippi Valley, of Oregon, and of California. It should be observed that these measurements are those of the wood as it lies when 'corded' or piled up for market, and exceed the real solid contents by not less than fifteen per cent.

"In a soil of medium quality," says Clavé, quoting the estimates of Pfeil, for the climate of Prussia, "the volume of a hectare of pines twenty years old, would exceed 80 cubic mètres [42½ cubic yards to the acre]; it would amount to but 24 in a meagre soil. This tree attains its maximum of mean growth at the age of seventy-five years. At that age, in the sandy earth of Prussia, it produces annually about 5 cubic mètres, with a total volume of 311 cubic mètres per hectare [166 cubic yards per acre]. After this age the volume increases, but the mean rate of growth diminishes. At eighty years, for instance, the volume is 335 cubic mètres, the annual production 4 only. The beech reaches its maximum of annual growth at one hundred and twenty years. It then has a total volume of 633 cubic mètres to the hectare [335 cubic yards to the acre], and produces 5 cubic mètres per year."—Clavé, Études, p. 151.

These measures, I believe, include the entire ligneous product of the tree, exclusive of the roots, and express the actual solid contents. The specific gravity of maple wood is stated to be 75. Maple sap yields sugar at the rate of about one pound wet sugar to three gallons of sap, and wet sugar is to dry sugar in about the proportion of nineteen to sixteen. Besides the sugar, there is a small residuum of "sand," composed of phosphate of lime, with a little silex, and it is certain that by the ordinary hasty process of manufacture, a good deal of sugar is lost; for the drops, condensed from the vapor of the boilers on the rafters of the rude sheds where the sap is boiled, have a decidedly sweet taste.

[170] "The elaborated sap, passing out of the leaves, is received into the inner bark, * * * and a part of what descends finds its way even to the ends of the roots, and is all along diffused laterally into the stem, where it meets and mingles with the ascending crude sap or raw material. So there is no separate circulation of the two kinds of sap; and no crude sap exists separately in any part of the plant. Even in the root, where it enters, this mingles at once with some elaborated sap already there."—Gray, How Plants Grow, § 273.

[171] Ward's tight glazed cases for raising, and especially for transporting plants, go far to prove that water only circulates through vegetables, and is again and again absorbed and transpired by organs appropriated to these functions. Seeds, growing grasses, shrubs, or trees planted in proper earth, moderately watered and covered with a glass bell or close frame of glass, live for months and even years, with only the original store of air and water. In one of Ward's early experiments, a spire of grass and a fern, which sprang up in a corked bottle containing a little moist earth introduced as a bed for a snail, lived and flourished for eighteen years without a new supply of either fluid. In these boxes the plants grow till the enclosed air is exhausted of the gaseous constituents of vegetation, and till the water has yielded up the assimilable matter it held in solution, and dissolved and supplied to the roots the nutriment contained in the earth in which they are planted. After this, they continue for a long time in a state of vegetable sleep, but if fresh air and water be introduced into the cases, or the plants be transplanted into open ground, they rouse themselves to renewed life, and grow vigorously, without appearing to have suffered from their long imprisonment. The water transpired by the leaves is partly absorbed by the earth directly from the air, partly condensed on the glass, along which it trickles down to the earth, enters the roots again, and thus continually repeats the circuit. See Aus der Natur, 21, B. S. 537.

[172] Wilhelm, Der Boden und das Wasser, p. 18. It is not ascertained in what proportions the dew is evaporated, and in what it is absorbed by the earth, in actual nature, but there can be no doubt that the amount of water taken up by the ground, both from vapor suspended in the air and from dew, is large. The annual fall of dew in England is estimated at five inches, but this quantity is much exceeded in many countries with a clearer sky. "In many of our Algerian campaigns," says Babinet, "when it was wished to punish the brigandage of the unsubdued tribes, it was impossible to set their grain fields on fire until a late hour of the day; for the plants were so wet with the night dew that it was necessary to wait until the sun had dried them."—Études et Lectures, ii, p. 212.

[173] "It has been concluded that the dry land occupies about 49,800,000 square statute miles. This does not include the recently discovered tracts of land in the vicinity of the poles, and allowing for yet undiscovered land (which, however, can only exist in small quantity), if we assign 51,000,000 to the land, there will remain about 146,000,000 of square miles for the extent of surface occupied by the ocean."—Sir J. F. W. Herschel, Physical Geography, 1861, p. 19.

It does not appear to which category Herschel assigns the inland seas and the fresh-water lakes and rivers of the earth; and Mrs. Somerville, who states that the "dry land occupies an area of 38,000,000 of square miles," and that "the ocean covers nearly three fourths of the surface of the globe," is equally silent on this point.—Physical Geography, fifth edition, p. 30. On the following page, Mrs. Somerville, in a note, cites Mr. Gardner as her authority, and says that, "according to his computation, the extent of land is about 37,673,000 square British miles, independently of Victoria Continent; and the sea occupies 110,849,000. Hence the land is to the sea as 1 to 4 nearly." Sir John F. W. Herschel makes the area of dry land and ocean together 197,000,000 square miles; Mrs. Somerville, or rather Mr. Gardner, 148,522,000. I suppose Sir John Herschel includes the islands in his aggregate of the "dry land," and the inland waters under the general designation of the "ocean," and that Mrs. Somerville excludes both.

[174] It has been observed in Sweden that the spring, in many districts where the forests have been cleared off, now comes on a fortnight later than in the last century.—Asbjörnsen, Om Skovene i Norge, p. 101.

The conclusion arrived at by Noah Webster, in his very learned and able paper on the supposed change in the temperature of winter, read before the Connecticut Academy of Arts and Sciences in 1799, was as follows: "From a careful comparison of these facts, it appears that the weather, in modern winters, in the United States, is more inconstant than when the earth was covered with woods, at the first settlement of Europeans in the country; that the warm weather of autumn extends further into the winter months, and the cold weather of winter and spring encroaches upon the summer; that, the wind being more variable, snow is less permanent, and perhaps the same remark may be applicable to the ice of the rivers. These effects seem to result necessarily from the greater quantity of heat accumulated in the earth in summer since the ground has been cleared of wood and exposed to the rays of the sun, and to the greater depth of frost in the earth in winter by the exposure of its uncovered surface to the cold atmosphere."—Collection of Papers by Noah Webster, p. 162.

[175] I have seen, in Northern New England, the surface of the open ground frozen to the depth of twenty-two inches, in the month of November, when in the forest earth no frost was discoverable; and later in the winter, I have known an exposed sand knoll to remain frozen six feet deep, after the ground in the woods was completely thawed.

[176]

——Det golde Strög i Afrika,
Der Intet voxe kan, da ei det regner,
Og, omvendt, ingen Regn kan falde, da
Der Intet voxer.
Paludan-Müller, Adam Homo, ii, 408.

[177]

Und Stürme brausen um die Wette
Vom Meer aufs Land, vom Land aufs Meer.
Goethe, Faust, Song of the Archangels.

[178] Études sur l'Économie Forestière, pp. 45, 46.

[179] I am not aware of any evidence to show that Malta had any woods of importance at any time since the cultivation of cotton was introduced there; and if it is true, as has been often asserted, that its present soil was imported from Sicily, it can certainly have possessed no forests since a very remote period. In Sandys's time, 1611, there were no woods in the island, and it produced little cotton. He describes it as "a country altogether champion, being no other than a rocke couered ouer with earth, but two feete deepe where the deepest; hauing but few trees but such as beare fruite. * * * So that their wood they haue from Sicilia." They have "an indifferent quantity of cotton wooll, but that the best of all other."—Sandys, Travels, p. 228.

[180] Schacht, Les Arbres, p. 412.

[181] What may be learned from a Tree, p. 117.

[182] Der Wald, p. 13.

[183] Om Skovene og deres Forhold til Nationalœconomien, pp. 131-133.

[184] Om Skovene og om et ordnet Skovbrug i Norge, p. 106.

[185] Études et Lectures, iv. p. 114.

[186] The supposed increase in the frequency and quantity of rain in Lower Egypt is by no means established. I have heard it disputed on the spot by intelligent Franks, whose residence in that country began before the plantations of Mehemet Aali and Ibrahim Pacha, and I have been assured by them that meteorological observations, made at Alexandria about the beginning of this century, show an annual fall of rain as great as is usual at this day. The mere fact, that it did not rain during the French occupation, is not conclusive. Having experienced a gentle shower of nearly twenty-four hours' duration in Upper Egypt, I inquired of the local governor in relation to the frequency of this phenomenon, and was told by him that not a drop of rain had fallen at that point for more than two years previous.

The belief in the increase of rain in Egypt rests almost entirely on the observations of Marshal Marmont, and the evidence collected by him in 1836. His conclusions have been disputed, if not confuted, by Jomard and others, and are probably erroneous. See, Foissac, Météorologie, German translation, pp. 634-639.

It certainly sometimes rains briskly at Cairo, but evaporation is exceedingly rapid in Egypt—as any one, who ever saw a Fellah woman wash a napkin in the Nile, and dry it by shaking it a few moments in the air, can testify; and a heap of grain, wet a few inches below the surface, would probably dry again without injury. At any rate, the Egyptian Government often has vast quantities of wheat stored at Boulak, in uncovered yards through the winter, though it must be admitted that the slovenliness and want of foresight in Oriental life, public and private, are such that we cannot infer the safety of any practice followed in the East, merely from its long continuance.

Grain, however, may be long kept in the open air in climates much less dry than that of Egypt, without injury, except to the superficial layers; for moisture does not penetrate to a great depth in a heap of grain once well dried, and kept well aired. When Louis IX was making his preparations for his campaign in the East, he had large quantities of wine and grain purchased in the Island of Cyprus, and stored up, for two years, to await his arrival. "When we were come to Cyprus," says Joinville, Histoire de Saint Louis, §§ 72, 73, "we found there greate foison of the Kynge's purveyance. * * The wheate and the barley they had piled up in greate heapes in the feeldes, and to looke vpon, they were like vnto mountaynes; for the raine, the whyche hadde beaten vpon the wheate now a longe whyle, had made it to sproute on the toppe, so that it seemed as greene grasse. And whanne they were mynded to carrie it to Egypte, they brake that sod of greene herbe, and dyd finde under the same the wheate and the barley, as freshe as yf menne hadde but nowe thrashed it."

[187] Étude sur les Eaux au point de vue des Inondations, p. 91.

[188] Économie Rurale, ii, chap. xx, § 4, pp. 756-759. See also p. 733.

[189] Jacini, speaking of the great Italian lakes, says: "A large proportion of the water of the lakes, instead of discharging itself by the Ticino, the Adda, the Oglio, the Mincio, filters through the silicious strata which underlie the hills, and follows subterranean channels to the plain, where it collects in the fontanili, and being thence conducted into the canals of irrigation, becomes a source of great fertility."—La Proprietà Fondiaria, etc., p. 144.

[190] Météorologie, German translation by Emsmann, p. 605.

[191] Handbuch der Physischen Geographie, p. 658.

[192] Annales des Ponts et Chaussées, 1854, 1st sémestre, pp. 21 et seqq. See the comments of Vallès on these observations, in his Études sur les Inondations, pp. 441 et seqq.

[193] The passage in Pliny is as follows: "Nascuntur fontes, decisis plerumque silvis, quos arborum alimenta consumebant, sicut in Hæmo, obsidente Gallos Cassandro, quum valli gratia cecidissent. Plerumque vero damnosi torrentes corrivantur, detracta collibus silva continere nimbos ac digerere consueta."—Nat. Hist., xxxi, 30.

Seneca cites this case, and another similar one said to have been observed at Magnesia, from a passage in Theophrastus, not to be found in the extant works of that author; but he adds that the stories are incredible, because shaded grounds abound most in water: ferè aquosissima sunt quæcumque umbrosissima.—Quæst. Nat., iii, 11. See Appendix, No. 26.