per cent, of the rainfall upon their surface." It follows that any natural exposed basin, under these circumstances, would surely fill up, just from the rains on its surface, if there were not some outlet for the water. Mr. Fanning gives the mean annual rainfall at Fredonia, New York, a few miles from Lake Chautauqua, as 36·55 inches. If we assume that the lake has an area of forty square miles, and take the annual rainfall on its surface at three feet in depth, the total volume of this rainfall would be 3,345,408,000 cubic feet. Supposing that sixty per cent, of this is lost by evaporation, there will yet remain in average years 1,338,163,200 cubic feet of water to be somehow disposed of, which is more than would supply a stream eight feet wide and one foot deep, running for a year at the rate of three and a half miles per hour. Besides the rain falling directly on the surface of the lake, a calculation of the area of the land around it, at a higher elevation than its water-level, would undoubtedly show, no matter what unpracticed observers might anticipate, that the rain-water known to fall on this area would be ample to supply all the springs that flow into the lake, and leave a good margin of surplus to evaporate from plants and soil, and to filter away into the earth.
It seems as if Mr. Green must be somewhat imaginative when he says that, "from the highest mountains in the world—the Himalayas—out of their highest points, great cataracts and streams have poured and still do pour," etc. Has any man ever been anywhere near the highest points of the Himalayas to verify such a statement? I translate the following from Arago's work already mentioned:
"The argument chiefly depended upon by those who felt obliged to seek the origin of subterranean waters in the precipitation which intensely hot aqueous vapors, coming from central regions, had experienced at the moment of their contact with the cold, earthy layers near the surface, was drawn from a fact well worthy of examination: I mean the pretended existence of tolerably abundant springs at the summit, at the culminating point, of some mountains. Our little Montmartre itself figured in this polemic. There was, indeed, upon this hillock, a spring (perhaps it still exists) which was hardly sixteen metres (fifty feet) below its highest part. No water, it was said, could constantly feed a spring thus placed, without coming from beneath in the state of vapor. Upon examination, however, it was found that the portion of Montmartre above the spring, and which could consequently transmit its waters by the method of simple interior draining, was about five hundred and eighty-five metres long and one hundred and ninety-five metres wide. Now, the mean volume of rain which falls in Paris upon such an extent of ground, between the 1st of January and the 31st of December, much exceeds the quantity of water which the little spring in question annually yielded.
"It was necessary, then, to seek for the difficulty at another point.
