The French traveller, D'Abbadie, relates precisely similar occurrences as not unfrequent in the mountains of Abyssinia.—Surrell, Etudes, etc; 2d edition, pp. 224, 295.]

"The elements of destruction are increasing in violence. The devastation advances in geometrical progression as the higher slopes are bared of their wood, and 'the ruin from above,' to use the words of a peasant, 'helps to hasten the desolation below.'

"The Alps of Provence present a terrible aspect. In the more equable climate of Northern France, one can form no conception of those parched mountain gorges where not even a bush can be found to shelter a bird, where, at most, the wanderer sees in summer here and there a withered lavender, where all the springs are dried up, and where a dead silence, hardly broken by even the hum of an insect, prevails. But if a storm bursts forth, masses of water suddenly shoot from the mountain heights into the shattered gulfs, waste without irrigating, deluge without refreshing the soil they overflow in their swift descent, and leave it even more seared than it was from want of moisture. Man at last retires from the fearful desert, and I have, the present season, found not a living soul in districts where I remember to have enjoyed hospitality thirty years ago."

In 1853, ten years after the date of Blanqui's memoir, M. de Bonville, prefect of the Lower Alps, addressed to the Government a report in which the following passages occur:

"It is certain that the productive mould of the Alps, swept off by the increasing violence of that curse of the mountains, the torrents, is daily diminishing with fearful rapidity. All our Alps are wholly, or in large proportion, bared of wood. Their soil, scorched by the sun of Provence, cut up by the hoofs of the sheep, which, not finding on the surface the grass they require for their sustenance, gnaw and scratch the ground in search of roots to satisfy their hunger, is periodically washed and carried off by melting snows and summer storms.

"I will not dwell on the effects of the torrents. For sixty years they have been too often depicted to require to be further discussed, but it is important to show that their ravages are daily extending the range of devastation. The bed of the Durance, which now in some places exceeds a mile and a quarter in width, and, at ordinary times, has a current of water less than eleven yards wide, shows something of the extent of the damage." [Footnote: In the days of the Roman Empire the Durance was a navigable, or at least a boatable, river, with a commerce so important that the boatmen upon it formed a distinct corporation.—Ladoucette, Histoire, etc., des Hautes Alpes, p. 354.

Even as early as 1789 the Durance was computed to have already covered with gravel and pebbles not less than 130,000 acres, "which, but for its inundations, would have been the finest land in the province."—Arthur Young, Travels in France, vol i., ch. i.] Where, ten years ago, there were still woods and cultivated grounds to be seen, there is now but a vast torrent; there is not one of our mountains which has not at least one torrent, and new ones are daily forming.

"An indirect proof of the diminution of the soil is to be found in the depopulation of the country. In 1852 I reported to the General Council that, according to the census of that year, the population of the department of the Lower Alps had fallen off no less than 5,000 souls in the five years between 1846 and 1851.

"Unless prompt and energetic measures are taken, it is easy to fix the epoch when the French Alps will be but a desert. The interval between 1851 and 1856 will show a further decrease of population. In 1862 the ministry will announce a continued and progressive reduction, in the number of acres devoted to agriculture; every year will aggravate the evil and in half a century France will count more ruins, and a department the less."

Time has verified the predictions of De Bonville. The later census returns show a progressive diminution in the population of the departments of the Lower Alps, the Isere, Drome, Ariege, the Upper and the Lower Pyrenees, Lozere, the Ardennes, Doubs, the Vosges, and, in short, in all the provinces formerly remarkable for their forests. This diminution is not to be ascribed to a passion for foreign emigration, as in Ireland, and in parts of Germany and of Italy; it is simply a transfer of population from one part of the empire to another, from soils which human folly has rendered uninhabitable, by ruthlessly depriving them of their natural advantages and securities, to provinces where the face of the earth was so formed by nature as to need no such safeguards, and where, consequently, she preserves her outlines in spite of the wasteful improvidence of man. [Footnote: Between 1851 and 1856 the population of Languedoc and Provence had increased by 101,000 souls. The augmentation, however, was wholly in the provinces of the plains, where all the principal cities are found. In these provinces the increase was 204,000, while in the mountain provinces there was a diminution of 103,000. The reduction of the area of arable land is perhaps even more striking. In 1842 the department of the Lower Alps possessed 90,000 hectares, or nearly 245,000 acres, of cultivated soil. In 1852 it had but 74,000 hectares. In other words, in ten years 25,000 hectares, or 61,000 acres, had been washed away, or rendered worthless for cultivation, by torrents and the abuses of pasturage.—Clave, Etudes, pp. 66, 67.]

Floods of the Ardeche.

The River Ardeche, in the French department of that name, has a perennial current in a considerable part of its course, and therefore is not, technically speaking, a torrent; but the peculiar character and violence of its floods is due to the action of the torrents which discharge themselves into it in its upper valley, and to the rapidity of the flow of the water of precipitation from the surface of a basin now almost bared of its once luxuriant woods. [Footnote: The original forests in which the basin of the Ardeche was rich have been rapidly disappearing for many years, and the terrific violence of the inundations which are now laying it waste is ascribed, by the ablest investigators, to that cause. In an article inserted in the Annales Forestieres for 1843, quoted by Hohenstein, Der Wald, p. 177, it is said that about one-third of the area of the department had already become absolutely barren, in consequence of clearing, and that the destruction of the woods was still going on with great rapidity. New torrents were constantly forming, and they were estimated to have covered more than 70,000 acres of good land, or one-eighth of the surface of the department, with sand and gravel.] A notice of these floods may therefore not inappropriately be introduced in this place.

The floods of the Ardeche and other mountain streams are attended with greater immediate danger to life and property than those of rivers of less rapid flow, because their currents are more impetuous, and they rise more suddenly and with less previous warning. At the same time, their ravages are confined within narrower limits, the waters retire sooner to their accustomed channel, and the danger is more quickly over, than in the case of inundations of larger rivers. The Ardeche drains a basin of 600,238 acres, or a little less than nine hundred and thirty-eight square miles. Its remotest source is about seventy-five miles, in a straight line, from its junction with the Rhone, and springs at an elevation of four thousand feet above that point. At the lowest stage of the river, the bed of the Chassezac, its largest and longest tributary, is in many places completely dry on the surface—the water being sufficient only to supply the subterranean channels of infiltration—and the Ardeche itself is almost everywhere fordable, even below the mouth of the Chassezac. But in floods, the river has sometimes risen more than sixty feet at the Pont d'Arc, a natural arch of two hundred feet chord, which spans the stream below its junction with all its important affluents. At the height of the inundation of 1857, the quantity of water passing this point—after deducting thirty per cent. for material transported with the current and for irregularity of flow—was estimated at 8,845 cubic yards to the second, and between twelve o'clock at noon on the 10th of September of that year and ten o'clock the next morning, the water discharged through the passage in question amounted to more than 450,000,000 cubic yards. This quantity, distributed equally through the basin of the river, would cover its entire area to a depth of more than five inches.

The Ardeche rises so suddenly that, in the inundation of 1846, the women who were washing in the bed of the river had not time to save their linen, and barely escaped with their lives, though they instantly fled upon hearing the roar of the approaching flood. Its waters and those of its affluents fall almost as rapidly, for in less than twenty-four hours after the rain has ceased in the Cevennes, where it rises, the Ardeche returns within its ordinary channel, even at its junction with the Rhone. In the flood of 1772, the water at La Beaume de Ruoms, on the Beaume, a tributary of the Ardeche, rose thirty-five feet above low water but the stream was again fordable on the evening of the same day. The inundation of 1827 was, in this respect, exceptional, for it continued three days, during which period the Ardeche poured into the Rhone 1,305,000,000 cubic yards of water.

The Nile delivers into the sea 101,000 cubic feet or 3,741 cubic yards per second, on an average of the whole year. [Footnote: Sir John F. Herschel, citing Talabot as his authority, Physical Geography (24).

In an elaborate paper on "Irrigation," printed in the United States Patent Report for 1860, p. 169, it is stated that the volume of water poured into the Mediterranean by the Nile in twenty-four hours, at low water, is 150,566,392,368 cubic meters; at high water, 705,514,667,440 cubic metres. Taking the mean of these two numbers, the average daily delivery of the Nile would be 428,081,059,808 cubic metres, or more than 550,000,000,000 cubic yards. There is some enormous mistake, probably a typographical error, in this statement, which makes the delivery of the Nile seventeen hundred times as great as computed by Talabot, and more than physical geographers have estimated the quantity supplied by all the rivers on the face of the globe.] This is equal to 323,222,400 cubic yards per day. In a single day of flood, then, the Ardeche, a river too insignificant to be known except in the local topography of France, contributed to the Rhone once and a half, and for three consecutive days once and one third, as much as the average delivery of the Nile during the same periods, though the basin of the latter river probably contains 1,000,000 square miles of surface, or more than one thousand times as much as that of the former.

The average annual precipitation in the basin of the Ardeche is not greater titan in many other parts of Europe, but excessive quantities of rain frequently fall in that valley in the autumn. On the 9th. of October, 1827, there fell at Joyeuse, on the Beaume, no less than thirty-one inches between three o'clock in the morning and midnight. Such facts as this explain the extraordinary suddenness and violence of the floods of the Ardeche, and the basins of many other tributaries of the Rhone exhibit meteorological phenomena not less remarkable. [Footnote: The Drac, a torrent emptying into the Isere a little below Grenoble, has discharged 5,200, the Isere, which receives it, 7,800 cubic yards, and the Durance, above its junction with the Isere, an equal quantity, per second.—Montluisant, Note sur les Dessechements, etc., Annales des Ponts et Chaussees, 1833, 2me semestre p. 288.

The Upper Rhone, which drains a basin of about 1,900 square miles, including seventy-one glaciers, receives many torrential affluents, and rain-storms and thaws are sometimes extensive enough to affect the whole tributary system of its narrow valley. In such cases its current swells to a great volume, but previously to the floods of the autumn of 1868 it was never known to reach a discharge of 2,600 cubic yards to the second. On the 28th of September in that year, however, its delivery amounted to 3,700 cubic yards to the second, which is about equal to the mean discharge of the Nile.—Berichte der Experten-Commission uber die Ueberschaeemmungen im Jahr 1868, pp. 174,175.

The floods of some other French rivers, which have a more or less torrential character, scarcely fall behind those of the Rhone. The Loire, above Roanne, has a basin of 2,471 square miles, or about twice and a half the area of that of the Ardeche. In some of its inundations it has delivered above 9,500 cubic yards per second, or 400 times its low-water discharge.—Belgrand, De l'Influence des Forets, etc., Annales des Ponts et Chaussees, 1854, 1er semestre, p.15, note.

The ordinary low-water discharge of the Seine at Paris is nearly 100 cubic yards per second. Belgrand gives a list of eight floods of that river within the last two centuries, in which it has delivered thirty times that quantity.]

The Rhone, therefore, is naturally subject to great and sudden inundations, and the same remark may be applied to most of the principal rivers of France, because the geographical character of all of them is approximately the same.

The volume of water in the floods of most great rivers is determined by the degree in which the inundations of the different tributaries are coincident in time. Were all the affluents of the Lower Rhone to pour their highest annual floods into its channel at once—as the smaller tributaries of the Upper Rhone sometimes do—were a dozen Niles to empty themselves into its bed at the same moment, its water would rise to a height and rush with an impetus that would sweep into the Mediterranean the entire population of its banks, and all the works that man has erected upon the plains which border it. But such a coincidence can never happen. The tributaries of this river run in very different directions, and some of them are swollen principally by the melting of the snows about their sources, others almost exclusively by heavy rains. When a damp southeast wind blows up the valley of the Ardeche, its moisture is condensed, and precipitated in a deluge upon the mountains which embosom the headwaters of that stream, thus producing a flood, while a neighboring basin, the axis of which lies transversely or obliquely to that of the Ardeche, is not at all affected. [Footnote: "There is no example of a coincidence between great floods of the

Ardeche and of the Rhone, all the known inundations of the former having taken place when the latter was very low."—MARDIGNY, Memoire sur les Inondations des Rivieres de l'Ardeche, p. 26.

The same observation may be applied to the tributaries of the Po, their floods being generally successive, not contemporaneous. The swelling of the affluents of the Amazon, and indeed of most large rivers, is regulated by a similar law. See Messedaglia, Analisi dell' opera di Champion, etc., p. 103.

The floods of the affluents of the Tiber form an exception to this law, being generally coincident, and this is one of the explanations of the frequency of destructive inundations in that river.—Lombardini, Guida allo Studio dell' Idrologia, ff. 68; same author, Esame degli studi sul Tevere.

I take this occasion to acknowledge myself indebted to Mardigny's interesting memoir just quoted for all the statements I make respecting the floods of the Ardeche, except the comparison of the volume of its water with that of the Nile.] It is easy to see that the damage occasioned by such floods as I have described must be almost incalculable, and it is by no means confined to the effects produced by overflow and the mechanical force of the superficial currents. In treating of the devastations of torrents, I have hitherto confined myself principally to the erosion of surface and the transportation of mineral matter to lower grounds by them. The general action of torrents, as thus fur shown, tends to the ultimate elevation of their beds by the deposit of the earth, gravel, and stone conveyed by them; but until they have thus raised their outlets so as sensibly to diminish the inclination of their channels—and sometimes when extraordinary floods give the torrents momentum enough to sweep away the accumulations which they have themselves heaped up—the swift flow of their currents, aided by the abrasion of the rolling rocks and gravel, scoops their beds constantly deeper, and they consequently not only undermine their banks, but frequently sap the most solid foundations which the art of man can build for the support of bridges and hydraulic structures. [Footnote: In some cases where the bed of rapid Alpine streams is composed of very hard rock—as is the case in many of the valleys once filled by ancient glaciers—and especially where they are fed by glaciers not overhung by crumbling cliffs, the channel may remain almost unchanged for centuries. This is observable in many of the tributaries of the Dora Baltea, which drains the valley of Aosta. Several of these small rivers are spanned by more or less perfect Roman bridges—one of which, that over the Lys at Pont St. Martin, is still in good repair and in constant use. An examination of the rocks on which the abutments of this and some other similar structures are founded, and of the channels of the rivers they cross, shows that the beds of the streams cannot have been much elevated or depressed since the bridges were built. In other cases, as at the outlet of the Val Tournanche at Chatillon, where a single rib of a Roman bridge still remains, there is nothing to forbid the supposition that the deep excavation of the channel may have been partly effected at much later period.

The Roman aqueduct known as the Pont du Gard, near Nismes, was built, in all probability, nineteen centuries ago. The bed of the river Gardon, a rather swift stream, which flows beneath it, can have suffered but slight depression since the piers of the aqueduct were founded.]

In the inundation of 1857, the Ardeche destroyed a stone bridge near La Beaume, which had been built about eighty years before. The resistance of the piers, which were erected on piles, the channel at that point being of gravel, produced an eddying current that washed away the bed of the river above them, and the foundation, thus deprived of lateral support, yielded to the weight of the bridge, and the piles and piers fell up-stream.

By a curious law of compensation, the stream which, at flood, scoops out cavities in its bed, often fills them up again as soon as the diminished velocity of the current allows it to let fall the sand and gravel with which it is charged, so that when the waters return to their usual channel, the bottom shows no sign of having been disturbed. In a flood of the Escontay, a tributary of the Rhone, in 1846, piles driven sixteen feet into its gravelly bed for the foundation of a pier were torn up and carried off, and yet, when the river had fallen to low-water mark, the bottom at that point appeared to have been raised higher than it was before the flood, by new deposits of sand and gravel, while the cut stones of the half-built pier were found buried to a great depth in the excavation which the water had first washed out. The gravel with which rivers thus restore the level of their beds is principally derived from the crushing of the rocks brought down by the mountain torrents, and the destructive effects of inundations are immensely diminished by this reduction of large stones to minute fragments. If the blocks hurled down from the cliffs were transported unbroken to the channels of large rivers, the mechanical force of their movement would be irresistible. They would overthrow the strongest barriers, spread themselves over a surface as wide as the flow of the waters, and convert the most smiling valleys into scenes of the wildest desolation.

As I have before remarked, I have taken my illustrations of the action of torrents and mountain streams principally from French authorities, because the facts recorded by them are chiefly of recent occurrence, and as they have been collected with much care and described with great fulness of detail, the information furnished by them is not only more trustworthy, but both more complete and more accessible than that which can be gathered from any other source. It is not to be supposed, however, that the countries adjacent to France have escaped the consequences of a like improvidence. The southern flanks of the Alps, and, in a less degree, the northern slope of these mountains and the whole chain of the Pyrenees, afford equally striking examples of the evils resulting from the wanton sacrifice of nature's safeguards. But I can afford space for few details, and as an illustration of the extent of these evils in Italy, I shall barely observe that it was calculated ten years ago that four-tenths of the area of the Ligurian provinces had been washed away or rendered incapable of cultivation in consequence of the felling of the woods. [Footnote: Annali di Agricoltura, Industria e Commercio, vol. i., p. 77. Similar instances of the erosive power of running water might be collected by hundreds from the narratives of travellers in warm countries. The energy of the torrents of the Himalayas is such that the brothers Schlagintweit believe that they will cut gorges through that lofty chain wide enough to admit the passage of currents of warm wind from the south, and thereby modify the climate of the countries lying to the north of the mountains.]

Highly colored as these pictures seem, they are not exaggerated, although the hasty tourist through Southern France, Switzerland, the Tyrol, and Northern Italy, finding little in his high-road experiences to justify them, might suppose them so. The lines of communication by locomotive-train and diligence lead generally over safer ground, and it is only when they ascend the Alpine passes and traverse the mountain chains, that scenes somewhat resembling those just described fall under the eye of the ordinary traveller. But the extension of the sphere of devastation, by the degradation of the mountains and the transportation of their debris, is producing analogous effects upon the lower ridges of the Alps and the plains which skirt them; and even now one needs but an hour's departure from some great thoroughfares to reach sites where the genius of destruction revels as wildly as in the most frightful of the abysses which Blanqui has painted. [Footnote: The Skalara-Tobel, for instance, near Coire. See the description of this and other like scenes in Berlepsch, Die Alpen, pp. 169 et seqq., or in Stephen's English translation.

About an hour from Thusis, on the Splagen road, "opens the awful chasm of the Nolla which a hundred years ago poured its peaceful waters through smiling meadows protected by the wooded slopes of the mountains. But the woods were cut down and with them departed the rich pastures, the pride of the valley, now covered with piles of rock and rubbish swept down from the mountains. This result is the more to be lamented as it was entirely compassed by the improvidence of man in thinning the forests."—Morell, Scientific Guide to Switzerland, p. 100.

The recent change in the character of the Mella—a river anciently so remarkable for the gentleness of its current that it was specially noticed by Catullus as flowing molli flumine—deserves more than a passing remark. This river rises in the mountain-chain east of Lake Iseo, and traversing the district of Brescia, empties into the Oglio after a course of about seventy miles. The iron-works in the upper valley of the Mella had long created a considerable demand for wood, but their operations were not so extensive as to occasion any very sudden or general destruction of the forests, and the only evil experienced from the clearings was the gradual diminution of the volume of the river. Within the last thirty years, the superior quality of the arms manufactured at Brescia has greatly enlarged the sale of them, and very naturally stumulated the activity of both the forges and of the colliers who supply them, and the hillsides have been rapidly stripped of their timber. Up to 1850, no destructive inundation of the Mella had been recorded. Buildings in great numbers had been erected upon its margin, and its valley was conspicuous for its rural beauty and its fertility. But when the denudation of the mountains had reached a certain point, avenging nature began the work of retribution. In the spring and summer of 1850 several new torrents were suddenly formed in the upper tributary valleys, and on the 14th and 15th of August in that year a fall of rain, not heavier than had been often experienced, produced a flood which not only inundated much ground never before overflowed, but destroyed a great number of bridges, dams, factories, and other valuable structures, and, what was a far more serious evil, swept off from the rocks an incredible extent of soil, and converted one of the most beautiful valleys of the Italian Alps into a ravine almost us bare and as barren as the savagest gorge of Southern France. The pecuniary damage was estimated at many millions of francs, and the violence of the catastrophe was deemed so extraordinary, even in a country subject to similar visitations, that the sympathy excited for the sufferers produced, in five months, voluntary contributions for their relief to the amount of nearly $200,000.—Delle Inondazioni del Mella, etc., nella notte del 14 al 15 Agosto, 1850.

The author of this pamphlet has chosen as a motto a passage from the Vulgate translation of Job, which is interesting as showing accurate observation of the action of the torrent: "Mons cadens definit, et saxum transfertur de loco suo; lapides excavant aquae et alluvione paullatim terra consumitur."—Job xiv. 18, 19.

The English version is much less striking, and gives a different sense.

The recent date of the change in the character of the Mella is contested, and it is possible that, though the extent of the revolution is not exaggerated, the rapidity with which it has taken place may have been.]

There is one effect of the action of torrents which few travellers on the Continent are heedless enough to pass without notice. I refer to the elevation of the beds of mountain streams in consequence of the deposit of the debris with which they are charged. To prevent the spread of sand and gravel over the fields and the deluging overflow of the raging waters, the streams are confined by walls and embankments, which are gradually built higher and higher as the bed of the torrent is raised, so that, to reach a river, you ascend from the fields beside it; and sometimes the ordinary level of the stream is above the streets and even the roofs of the towns through which it passes. [Footnote: Streffleur quotes from Duile the following observations: "The channel of the Tyrelese brooks is often raised much above the valleys through which they flow. The bed of the Fersina is elevated high above the city of Trent, which lies near it. The Villerbach flows at a much more elevated level than that of the market-place of Neumarkt and Vill, and threatens to overwhelm both of them with its waters. The Talfer at Botzen is at least even with the roofs of the adjacent town, if not above them. The tower-steeples of the villages of Schlanders, Kortsch, and Laas, are lower than the surface of the Gadribach. The Saldurbach at Schluderus menaces the far lower village with destruction, and the chief town, Schwaz, is in similar danger from the Lahnbach."—Streffleur, Ueber die Wildbuche, etc., p. 7.] The traveller who visits the depths of an Alpine ravine, observes the length and width of the gorge and the great height and apparent solidity of the precipitous walls which bound it, and calculates the mass of rock required to fill the vacancy, can hardly believe that the humble brooklet which purls at his feet has been the principal agent in accomplishing this tremendous erosion. Closer observation will often teach him, that the seemingly unbroken rock which overhangs the valley is full of cracks and fissures, and really in such a state of disintegration that every frost must bring down tons of it. If he computes the area of the basin which finds here its only discharge, he will perceive that a sudden thaw of the winter's deposit of snow, or one of those terrible discharges of rain so common in the Alps, must send forth a deluge mighty enough to sweep down the largest masses of gravel and of rock. The simple measurement of the cubical contents of the semicircular hillock which he climbed before he entered the gorge, the structure and composition of which conclusively show that it must have been washed out of this latter by torrential action, will often account satisfactorily for the disposal of most of the matter which once filled the ravine. When a torrent escapes from the lateral confinement of its mountain walls and pours out of the gorge, it spreads and divides itself into numerous smaller streams which shoot out from the mouth of the ravine as from a centre, in different directions, like the ribs of a fan from the pivot, each carrying with it its quota of stones and gravel. The plain below the point of issue from the mountain is rapidly raised by newly-formed torrents, the elevation depending on the inclination of the bed and the form and weight of the matter transported. Every flood both increases the height of this central point and extends the entire circumference of the deposit. Other things being equal, the transporting power of the water is greatest where its flow is most rapid. This is usually in the direction of the axis of the ravine. The stream retaining most nearly this direction moves with the greatest momentum, and consequently transports the solid matter with which it is charged to the greatest distance.

The untravelled reader will comprehend this the better when he is informed that the southern slope of the Alps generally rises suddenly out of the plain, with no intervening hill to break the abruptness of the transition, except those consisting of comparatively small heaps of its own debris brought down by ancient glaciers or recent torrents. The torrents do not wind down valleys gradually widening to the rivers or the sea, but leap at once from the flanks of the mountains upon the plains below. This arrangement of surfaces naturally facilitates the formation of vast deposits at their points of emergence, and the centre of the accumulation in the case of very small torrents is not unfrequently a hundred feet high, and sometimes very much more.

The deposits of the torrent which has scooped out the Nantzen Thal, a couple of miles below Brieg in the Valais, have built up a semicircular hillock, which most travellers by the Simplon route pass over without even noticing it, though it is little inferior in dimensions to the great cones of dejection described by Blanqui. The principal course of the torrent having been—I know not whether spontaneously or artificially—diverted towards the west, the eastern part of the hill has been gradually brought under cultivation, and there are many trees, fields, and houses upon it; but the larger western part is furrowed with channels diverging from the summit of the deposit at the outlet of the Nantzen Thal, which serve as the beds of the water-courses into which the torrent has divided itself. All this portion of the hillock is subject to inundation after long and heavy rain, and as I saw it in the great flood of October, 1866, almost its whole surface seemed covered with an unbrokun sheet of rushing water.

The semi-conical deposit of detritus at the mouth of the Litznerthal, a lateral branch of the valley of the Adige, at the point where the torrent pours out of the gorge, is a thousand feet high and, measuring along the axis of the principal current, two and a half miles long. [Footnote: Sonklar, Die Octzthaler Gebirgsgruppe, 1861, p. 231.] The solid material of this hillock—which it is hardly an exaggeration to call a mountain, the work of a single insignificant torrent and its tributaries—including what the river which washes its base has carried off in a comparatively few years, probably surpasses the mass of the stupendous pyramid of the Matterhorn. In valleys of ancient geological formation, which extend into the very heart of the mountains, the streams, though rapid, have often lost the true torrential character, if, indeed, they ever possessed it. Their beds have become approximately constant, and their walls no longer crumble and fall into the waters that wash their bases. The torrent-worn ravines, of which I have spoken, are of later date, and belong more properly to what may be called the crust of the Alps, consisting of loose rocks, of gravel, and of earth, strewed along the surface of the great declivities of the central ridge, and accumulated thickly between their solid buttresses. But it is on this crust that the mountaineer dwells. Here are his forests, here his pastures, and the ravages of the torrent both destroy his world, and convert it into a source of overwhelming desolation to the plains below.

I do not mean to assert that all the rocky valleys of the Alps have been produced by the action of torrents resulting from the destruction of the forests. The greater, and many of the smaller channels, by which that chain is drained, owe their origin to higher causes. They are primitive fissures, ascribable to disruption in upheaval or other geological convulsion, widened and scarped, and often even polished, so to speak, by the action of glaciers during the ice period, and but little changed in form by running water in later eras.

It has been contended that all rivers which take their rise in mountains originated in torrents. These, it is said, have lowered the summits by gradual erosion, and, with the material thus derived, have formed shoals in the sea which once beat against the cliffs; then, by successive deposits, gradually raised them above the surface, and finally expanded them into broad plains traversed by gently flowing streams. If we could get back to earlier geological periods, we should find this theory often verified, and we cannot fail to see that the torrents go on at the present hour, depressing still lower the ridges of the Alps and the Apennines, raising still higher the plains of Lombardy and Provence, extending the coast still farther into the Adriatic and the Mediterranean, reducing the inclination of their own beds and the rapidity of their flow, and thus tending to become river-like in character.

We cannot measure the share which human action has had in augmenting the intensity of causes of mountain degradation, and of the formation of plains and marshes below, but we know that the clearing of the woods has, in some cases, produced, within two or three generations, effects as blasting as those generally ascribed to geological convulsions, and has laid waste the face of the earth more hopelessly than if it had been buried by a current of lava or a shower of volcanic sand. New torrents are forming every year in the Alps. Tradition, written records, and analogy concur to establish the belief that the ruin of most of the now desolate valleys in those mountains is to be ascribed to the same cause, and authentic descriptions of the irresistible force of the torrent show that, aided by frost and heat, it is adequate to level Mont Blanc and Monte Rosa themselves, unless new upheavals shall maintain their elevation.

There are cases where torrents cease their ravages of themselves, in consequence of some change in the condition of the basin where they originate, or of the face of the mountain at a higher level, while the plain or the sea below remains in substantially the same state as before. If a torrent rises in a small valley containing no great amount of earth and of disintegrated or loose rock, it may, in the course of a certain period, wash out all the transportable material, and if the valley is then left with solid walls, it will cease to furnish debris to be carried down by floods. If, in this state of things, a new channel be formed at an elevation above the head of the valley, it may divert a part or even the whole of the rain-water and melted snow which would otherwise have flowed into it, and the once furious torrent now sinks to the rank of a humble and harmless brooklet. "In traversing this department," says Suroll, "one often sees, at the outlet of a gorge, a flattened hillock, with a fan-shaped outline and regular slopes; it is the bed of dejection of an ancient torrent. It sometimes requires long and careful study to detect the primitive form, masked as it is by groves of trees, by cultivated fields, and often by houses, but, when examined closely, and from different points of view, its characteristic figure manifestly appears, and its true history cannot be mistaken. Along the hillock flows a streamlet, issuing from the ravine, and quietly watering the fields. This was originally a torrent, and in the background may be discovered its mountain basin. Such EXTINGUISHED torrents, if I may use the expression, are numerous." [Footnote: Surrell, Les Torrents des Hautes Alpes, chap. xxiv. In such cases, the clearing of the ground, which, in consequence of a temporary diversion of the waters, or from some other cause, has become rewooded, sometimes renews the ravages of the torrent. Thus, on the left bank of the Durance, a wooded declivity had been formed by the debris brought down by torrents, which had extinguished themselves after having swept off much of the superficial strata of the mountain of Morgon. "All this district was covered with woods, which have now been thinned out and are perishing from day to day; consequently, the torrents have recommenced their devastations, and if the clearings continue, this declivity, now fertile, will he ruined, like so many others."—Ibid, p. 155.]

But for the intervention of man and domestic animals, these latter beneficent revolutions would occur more frequently, proceed more rapidly. The new scarped mountains, the hillocks of debris, the plains elevated by sand and gravel spread over them, the shores freshly formed by fluviatile deposits, would clothe themselves with shrubs and trees, the intensity of the causes of degradation would be diminished, and nature would thus regain her ancient equilibrium. But these processes, under ordinary circumstances, demand, not years, generations, but centuries; [Footnote: Where a torrent has not been long in operation, and earth still remains mixed with the rocks and gravel it heaps up at its point of eruption, vegetation soon starts up and prospers, it protected from encroachment. In Provence, "several communes determined, about ten years ago, to reserve the soils thus wasted, that is, to abandon them for a certain time, to spontaneous vegetation, which was not slow in making its appearance."-Becquerel, Des Climats, p. 815.] and man, who even now finds scarce breathing-room on this vast globe, cannot retire from the Old World to some yet undiscovered continent, and wait for the slow action of such causes to replace, by a new creation, the Eden he has wasted.

Crushing Force of Torrents.

I must here notice a mechanical effect of the rapid flow of the torrent, which is of much importance in relation to the desolating action it exercises by covering large tracts of cultivated ground with infertile material. The torrent, as we have seen, shoots or rolls forwards, with great velocity, masses and fragments of rock, and sometimes rounded pebbles from more ancient formations. Every inch of this violent movement is accompanied with crushing concussion, or, at least, with great abrasion of the mineral material, and, as you follow it along the course of the waters which transport it, you find the stones gradually rounding off in form, and diminishing in size, until they pass successively into gravel, and, in the beds of the rivers to which the torrents convey it, sand, and lastly impalpable slime.

There are few operations of nature where the effect seems more disproportioned to the cause than in the crushing and comminution of rock in the channel of swift waters. Igneous rocks are generally so hard as to be wrought with great difficulty, and they bear the weight of enormous superstructures without yielding to the pressure; but to the torrent they are as wheat to the millstone. The streams which pour down the southern scarp of the Mediterranean Alps along the Riviera di Ponente, near Genoa, have short courses, and a brisk walk of a couple of hours or even less takes you from the sea-beach to the headspring of many of them. In their heaviest floods, they bring rounded masses of serpentine quite down to the sea, but at ordinary high water their lower course is charged only with finely divided particles of that rock. Hence, while, near their sources, their channels are filled with pebbles and angular fragments, intermixed with a little gravel, the proportions are reversed near their months, and, just above the points where their outlets are partially choked by the rolling shingle of the beach, their beds are composed of sand and gravel to the almost total exclusion of pebbles.

Guglielmini argued that the gravel and sand of the beds of running streams were derived from the trituration of rocks by the action of the currents, and inferred that this action was generally sufficient to reduce hard rock to sand in its passage from the source to the outlet of rivers. Frisi controverted this opinion, and maintained that river-sand was of more ancient origin, and he inferred from experiments in artificially grinding stones that the concussion, friction, and attrition of rock in the channel of running waters were inadequate to its comminution, though he admitted that these same causes might reduce silicious sand to a fine powder capable of transportation to the sea by the currents. [Footnote: Frisi, Del modo di regolare i Fiumi e i Torrenti, pp. 4-19. See in Lombardini, Sulle Inondazioni in Francia, p. 87, notices of the action of currents transporting only fine material in wearing down hard rock. In the sluices for gold-washing in California having a grade of 1 to 14 1/2, and paved with the hardest stones, the wear of the bottom is at the rate of two inches in three months.—Raymond, Mineral Statistics, 1870, p. 480.] Frisi's experiments were tried upon rounded and polished river-pebbles, and prove nothing with regard to the action of torrents upon the irregular, more or less weathered, and often cracked and shattered rocks which lie loose in the ground at the head of mountain valleys. The fury of the waters and of the wind which accompanies them in the floods of the French Alpine torrents is such, that large blocks of stone are hurled out of the bed of the stream to the height of twelve or thirteen feet. [Footnote: Surrell, Etude sur les Torrents, pp. 81-86.] The impulse of masses driven with such force overthrows the most solid masonry, and their concussion cannot fail to be attended with the crushing of the rocks themselves.

The greatest depth of the basin of the Ardeche is seventy-five miles, but most of its tributaries have a much shorter course. "These affluents," says Mardigny, "hurl into the bed of the Ardeche enormous blocks of rock, which this river, in its turn bears onwards, and grinds down, at high water, so that its current rolls only gravel at its confluence with the Rhone." [Footnote: At Rinkenberg, on the right bank of the Vorder Rhein, in the flood of 1868, a block of stone computed to weigh nearly 9,000 cwt. was carried bodily forwards, not rolled, by a torrent, a distance of three-quarter of a mile.—Coaz, die Hochwasser im 1868, p. 54.

Memoire sur les Inondations des Rivieres de l'Ardeche, p. 16. "The terrific roar, the thunder of the raging torrents proceeds principally from the stones which are rolled along in the bed of the stream. This movement is attended with such powerful attrition that, in the Southern Alps, the atmosphere of valleys where the limestone contains bitumen, has, at the time of floods, the marked bituminous smell produced by rubbing pieces of such limestone together."—Wessely, Die Oesterreichischen Alpenlander, i., p. 113.] Duponchel makes the following remarkable statement: "The river Herault rises in a granitic region, but soon reaches calcareous formations, which it traverses for more than sixty kilometres, rolling through deep and precipitous ravines, into which the torrents are constantly discharging enormous masses of pebbles belonging to the hardest rocks of the Jurassian period. These debris, continually renewed, compose, even below the exit of the gorge where the river enters into a regular channel cut in a tertiary deposit, broad beaches, prodigious accumulations of rolled pebbles, extending several kilometres down the stream, but they diminish in size and weight so rapidly that above the mouth of the river, which is at a distance of thirty or thirty-five kilometres from the gorge, every trace of calcareous matter has disappeared from the sands of the bottom, which are exclusively silicious." [Footnote: Avant-projet pour la creation d'un sol fertile, p. 20.]

Similar effects of the rapid flow of water and the concussion of stones against each other in river-beds may be observed in almost every Alpine gorge which serves as the channel of a swift stream. The tremendous cleft through which the well-known Via Mala is carried receives, every year, from its own crumbling walls and from the Hinter Rhein and its mild tributaries, enormous quantities of rock, in blocks and boulders. In fact, the masses hurled into it in a single flood like those of 1868 would probably fill it up, at its narrow points, to the level of the road 400 feet above its bottom, were not the stones crushed and carried off by the force of the current. Yet below the outlet at Thusis only small rounded boulders, pebbles, and gravel, not rock, are found in the bed of the river. The Swiss glaciers bring down thousands of cubic yards of hard rock every season. Where the glacier ends in a plain or wide valley, the rocks are accumulated in a terminal moraine, but in numerous instances the water which pours from the ice-river has forces enough to carry down to larger streams the masses delivered by the glacier, and there they, with other stones washed out from the earth by the current, are ground down, so that few of the affluents of the Swiss lakes deliver into them anything but fine sand and slime. Great rivers carry no boulders to the sea, and, in fact, receive none from their tributaries. Lombardini found, twenty years ago, that the mineral matter brought down to the Po by its tributaries was, in general, comminuted to about the same degree of fineness as the sands of its bed at their points of discharge. In the case of the Trebbia, which rises high in the Apennines and empties into the Po at Piacenza, it was otherwise, that river rolling pebbles and coarse gravel into the channel of the principal stream. The banks of the other affluents—excepting some of those which discharge their waters into the great lakes—then either retained their woods, or had been so long clear of them that the torrents had removed most of the disintegrated and loose rock in their upper basins. The valley of the Trebbia had been recently cleared, and all the forces which tend to the degradation and transportation of rock were in full activity. [Footnote: Since the date of Lombardini's observations, many Alpine valleys have been stripped of their woods. It would be interesting to know whether any sensible change has been produced in the character or quantity of the matter transported by the rivers to the Po.—Notice sur les Rivieres de la Lombardie, Annales des Ponts et Chaussees, 1847, 1er semestre, p. 131.]

Transporting Power of Water.

But the geographical effects of the action of torrents are not confined to erosion of earth and comminution of rock; for they and the rivers to which they contribute transport the debris of the mountains to lower levels and spread them out over the dry land and the bed of the sea, thus forming alluvial deposits, sometimes of a beneficial, sometimes of an injurious, character, and of vast extent. [Footnote: Lorentz, in an official report quoted by Marchand, says: "The felling of the woods produces torrents which cover the cultivated soil with pebbles and fragments of rock, and they do not confine their ravages to the vicinity of the mountains, but extend them into the fertile fields of Provence and other departments, to the distance of forty or fifty leagues."—Entwaldung der Gebirge, p. 17.]

A mountain rivulet swollen by rain or melted snow, when it escapes from its usual channel and floods the adjacent fields, naturally deposits pebbles and gravel upon them; but even at low water, if its course is long enough for its grinding action to have full scope, it transports the solid material with which it is charged to some larger stream, and there lets it fall in a state of minute division, and at last the spoil of the mountain is used to raise the level of the plains or carried down to the sea.

An instance that fell under my own observation, in 1857, will serve to show something of the eroding and transporting power of streams which, in these respects, fall incalculably below the torrents of the Alps. In a flood of the Ottaquechee, a small river which flows through Woodstock, Vermont, a mill-dam on that stream burst, and the sediment with which the pond was filled, estimated after careful measurement at 13,000 cubic yards, was carried down by the current. Between this dam and the slackwater of another, four miles below, the bed of the stream, which is composed of pebbles interspersed in a few places with larger stones, is about sixty-five feet wide, though, at low water, the breadth of the current is considerably less. The sand and fine gravel were smoothly and evenly distributed over the bed to a width of fifty-five or sixty feet, and, for a distance of about two miles, except at two or three intervening rapids, filled up all the interstices between the stones, covering them to the depth of nine or ten inches, so as to present a regularly formed concave channel, lined with sand, and reducing the depth of water, in some places, from five or six feet to fifteen or eighteen inches. Observing this deposit after the river had subsided and become so clear that the bottom could be seen, I supposed that the next flood would produce an extraordinary erosion of the banks and some permanent changes in the channel of the stream, in consequence of the elevation of the bed and the filling up of the spaces between the stones through which formerly much water had flowed; but no such result followed. The spring freshet of the next year entirely washed out the sand its predecessor had left, deposited some of it in ponds and still-water reaches below, carried the residue beyond the reach of observation, and left the bed of the river almost precisely in its former condition, though, of course, with the displacement of the pebbles which every flood produces in the channels of such streams. The pond, though often previously discharged by the breakage of the dam, had then been undisturbed for about twenty-five years, and its contents consisted almost entirely of sand, the rapidity of the current in floods being such that it would let fall little lighter sediment, even above an obstruction like a dam. The quantity I have mentioned evidently bears a very inconsiderable proportion to the total erosion of the stream during that period, because the wash of the banks consists chiefly of fine earth rather than of sand, and after the pond was once filled, or nearly so, even this material could no longer be deposited in it. The fact of the complete removal of the deposit I have described between the two dams in a single freshet, shows that, in spite of considerable obstruction from roughness of bed, large quantities of sand may be taken up and carried off by streams of no great rapidity of inclination; for the whole descent of the bed of the river between the two dams—a distance of four miles—is but sixty feet, or fifteen feet to the mile. [Footnote: In a sheet-iron siphon, 1,000 feet long, with a diameter of four inches, having the entrance 18 feet, the orifice of discharge 40 feet below the summit of the curve, employed in draining a mine In California, the force of the current was such as to carry through the tube great quantities of sand and coarse gravel, some of the grains of which were as large as an English walnut. —Raymond, Mining Statistics, 1870, p. 602.] The facts which I have adduced may aid us in forming an idea of the origin and mode of transportation of the prodigious deposits at the mouth of great rivers like the Mississippi, the Nile, the Ganges, and the Hoang-Ho, the delta of which last river, composed entirely of river sediment, has a superficial extent of not less than 96,500 square miles. But we shall obtain a clearer conception of the character of this important geographical process by measuring, more in detail, the mass of earth and rock which a well—known river and its tributaries have washed from the mountains and transported to the plains or the sea, within the historic period.

The Po and its Deposits.

The current of the River Po, for a considerable distance after its volume of water is otherwise sufficient for continuous navigation, is too rapid for that purpose until near Cremona, where its velocity becomes too much reduced to transport great quantities of mineral matter, except in a state of minute division. Its southern affluents bring down from the Apennines a large quantity of fine earth from various geological formations, while its Alpine tributaries west of the Ticino are charged chiefly with rock ground down to sand or gravel. The bed of the river has been somewhat elevated by the deposits in its channel, though not by any means above the level of the adjacent plains as has been so often represented. The dikes, which confine the current at high water, at the same time augment its velocity and compel it to carry most of its sediment to the Adriatic. It has, therefore, raised neither its own channel nor its alluvial shores, as it would have done if it had remained unconfined. But, as the surface of the water in floods is above the general level of the plains through which it flows, the Po can, at that period, receive no contributions of earth from the washing of the fields of Lombardy, and there is no doubt that a large proportion of the sediment it now deposits at its mouth descended from the Alps in the form of rock, though reduced by the grinding action of the waters, in its passage seaward, to the condition of fine sand, and often of silt.

We know little of the history of the Po, or of the geography of the coast near the point where it enters the Adriatic, at any period more than twenty centuries before our own. Still less can we say how much of the plains of Lombardy had been formed by its action, combined with other causes, before man accelerated its levelling operations by felling the first woods on the mountains whence its waters are derived. But we know that since the Roman conquest of Northern Italy, its deposits have amounted to a quantity which, if recemented into rock, recombined into gravel, common earth, and vegetable mould, and restored to the situations where eruption or upheaval originally placed or vegetation deposited it, would fill up hundreds of deep ravines in the Alps and Apennines, change the plan and profile of their chains, and give their southern and northern faces respectively a geographical aspect very different from that they now present. Ravenna, forty miles south of the principal mouth of the Po, was built like Venice, in a lagoon, and the Adriatic still washed its walls at the commencement of the Christian era. The mud of the Po has filled up the lagoon, and Ravenna is now four miles from the sea. The town of Adria, which lies between the Po and the Adige, at the distance of some four or five miles from each, was once a harbor famous enough to have given its name to the Adriatic Sea, and it was still accessible to large vessels, if not by the open sea at least by lagoons, in the time of Augustus. The combined action of the two rivers has so advanced the coast-line that Adria is now more than fourteen miles inland, and, in other places, the deposits made within the same period by these and other neighboring streams have a width of twenty miles.

What proportion of the earth with which they are charged these rivers have borne out into deep water, during the last two thousand years, we do not know, but as they still transport enormous quantities, as the North Adriatic appears to have shoaled rapidly, and as long islands, composed in great part of fluviatile deposits, have formed opposite their mouths, it must evidently have been very great. The floods of the Po occur but once, or sometimes twice, in a year. [Footnote: In the earlier medieval centuries, when the declivities of the mountains still retained a much larger proportion of their woods, the moderate annual floods of the Po were occasioned by the melting of the snows on the lower slopes, and, according to a passage of Tasso quoted by Castellani (Dell' Influenza delle Selve, i., p. 58, note), they took place in May. The usually more violent inundations of later ages are due to rains, the waters of which are no longer retained by a forest-soil, but conveyed at once to the rivers—and they occur almost uniformly in the autumn or late summer. Castellani, on the page just quoted, says that even so late as about 1780, the Po required a heavy rain of a week to overflow its banks, but that forty years later it was sometimes raised to full flood in a single day. Pliny says: "The Po, which is inferior to no river in swiftness of current, is in flood about the rising of the dog-star, the snow then melting, and though so rapid in flow, it washes nothing from the soil, but leaves it increased in fertility."—Natural History, Book iii, 20.

The first terrible inundation of the Po in 1872 took place in May, and appears to have been occasioned by heavy rains on the southern flank of the Alps, and to have received little accession from snow. The snow on the higher Alps does not usually thaw so as to occasion floods before August, and often considerably later. The more destructive flood of October, 1872, was caused both by thaws in the high mountains and by an extraordinary fall of rain. See River Embankments; post. Pliny's remark as to enrichment of the soil by the floods appear to be verified in the case of that of October, 1872, for it is found that the water has left very extensively a thick deposit of slime on the fields. See a list of the historically known great inundations of the Po by the engineer Zuccholli in Torelli, Progetto di Legge per la Vendita di Beni incolti. Roma, 1873.]

At other times, its waters are comparatively limpid and seem to hold no great amount of mud or fine sand in mechanical suspension; but at high water it contains a large proportion of solid matter, and, according to Lombardini, it annually transports to the shores of the Adriatic not less than 42,760,000 cubic metres, or very nearly 55,000,000 cubic yards, which carries the coast-line out into the sea at the rate of more than 200 feet in a year. [Footnote: This change of coast-line cannot be ascribed to upheaval, for a comparison of the level of old buildings—as, for instance, the church of San Vitale and the tomb of Theodoric at Ravenna—with that of the sea, tends to prove a depression rather than an elevation of their foundations. A computation by a different method makes the deposits at the mouth of the Po 2,123,000 metres less; but as both of them omit the gravel and silt carried down at ordinary and low water, we are safe in assuming the larger quantity.] The depth of the annual deposit is stated at eighteen centimetres, or rather more than seven inches, and it would cover an area of not much less than ninety square miles with a layer of that thickness. The Adige, also, brings every year to the Adriatic many million cubic yards of Alpine detritus, and the contributions of the Brenta from the same source are far from inconsiderable. The Adriatic, however, receives but a small proportion of the soil and rock washed away from the Italian slope of the Alps and the northern declivity of the Apennines by torrents. Nearly the whole of the debris thus removed from the southern face of the Alps between Monte Rosa and the sources of the Adda—a length of watershed [Footnote: Sir John F. W. Herschel (Physical Geography, 137, and elsewhere) spells this word water-sched, because he considers it a translation, or rather an adoption, of the German "Wasser-scheide, separation of the waters, not water-SHED the slope DOWN WHICH the waters run." As a point of historical etymology, it is probable that the word in question was suggested to those who first used it by the German Wasserscheide; but the spelling WATER-SCHED, proposed by Herschel, is objectionable, both because SCH is a combination of letters wholly unknown to modern English orthography, and properly representing no sound recognized in English orthoepy, and for the still better reason that WATER-SHED, in the sense of DIVISION-OF-THE-WATERS, has a legitimate English etymology. The Anglo-Saxon sceadan meant both to separate or divide, and to shade or shelter. It is the root of the English verbs TO SHED and TO SHADE, and in the former meaning is the A. S. equivalent of the German verb scheiden. SHED in Old English had the meaning to SEPARATE or DISTINGUISH. It is so used in the Owl and the Nightingale, v. 107. Palsgrave (Lesclarcissement, etc., p. 717) defines I SHEDE, I departe thinges asonder; and the word still means TO DIVIDE in several English local dialects. Hence, watershed, the division or separation of the waters, is good English both in etymology and in spelling.] not less than one hundred and fifty miles—is arrested by the still waters of the Lakes Maggiore and Como, and some smaller lacustrine reservoirs, and never reaches the sea. The Po is not continuously embanked except for the lower half of its course. Above Cremona, therefore, it spreads and deposits sediment over a wide surface, and the water withdrawn from it for irrigation at lower points, as well as its inundations in the occasional ruptures of its banks, carry over the adjacent soil a large amount of slime. [Footnote: The quantity of sediment deposited by the Po on the plains which border it, before the construction of the continuous dikes and in the floods which occasionally burst through them, is vast, and the consequent elevation of those plains is very considerable. I do not know that this latter point has been made a subject of special investigation, but vineyards, with the vines still attached to the elms which supported them, have been found two or three yards below the present surface at various points on the plains of Lombardy.]

If to the estimated annual deposits of the Po at its mouth, we add the earth and sand transported to the sea by the Adige, the Brenta, and other less important streams, the prodigious mass of detritus swept into Lago Maggioro by the Tosa, the Maggia, and the Ticino, into the lake of Como by the Maira and the Adda, into the lakes of Garda, Lugano, Iseo, and Idro, by their affluents, [Footnote: The Po receives about four-tenths of its waters from these lakes. See Lombardini, Dei cangiamenti nella condizione del Po, p. 29. All the sediment carried into the lakes by their tributaries is deposited in them, and the water which flows out of them is perfectly limpid. From their proximity to the Alps and the number of torrents which empty into them, they no doubt receive vastly more transported matter than is contributed to the Po by the six-tenths of its waters received from other sources.] and the yet vaster heaps of pebbles, gravel, and earth permanently deposited by the torrents near their points of eruption from mountain gorges, or spread over the wide plains at lower levels, we may safely assume that we have an aggregate of not less than ten times the quantity carried to the Adriatic by the Po, or 550,000,000 cubic yards of solid matter, abstracted every year from the Italian Alps and the Apennines, and removed out of their domain by the force of running water. [Footnote: Mengotti estimated the mass of solid matter annually "united to the waters of the Po" at 822,000,000 cubic metres, or nearly twenty times as much as, according to Lombardini, that river delivers into the Adriatic. Castellani supposes the computation of Mengotti to fall much below the truth, and there can be no doubt that a vastly larger quantity of earth and gravel is washed down from the Alps and the Apennines than is carried to the sea.—Castellani, Dell Immediata Influenza delle Salce sul corso delle Acqua, i., pp. 42,43.

I have contented myself with assuming less than one-half of Mengotti's estimate.] The present rate of deposit at the mouth of the Po has continued since the year 1600, the previous advance of the coast, after the year 1200, having been only one-third as rapid. The great increase of erosion and transport is ascribed by Lombardini chiefly to the destruction of the forests in the basin of that river and the valleys of its tributaries, since the beginning of the seventeenth century. [Footnote: Baumgarten, An. des Ponts et Chaussees, 1847, 1er semestre, p. 175.] We have no data to show the rate of deposit in any given century before the year 1200, and it doubtless varied according to the progress of population and the consequent extension of clearing and cultivation. The transporting power of torrents is greatest soon after their formation, because at that time their points of delivery are lower, and, of course, their general slope and velocity more rapid, than after years of erosion above, and deposit below, have depressed the beds of their mountain valleys, and elevated the channels of their lower course. Their eroding action also is most powerful at the same period, both because their mechanical force is then greatest, and because the loose earth and stones of freshly cleared forest-ground are most easily removed. Many of the Alpine valleys west of the Ticino—that of the Dora Baltea, for instance—were nearly stripped of their forests in the days of the Roman Empire, others in the Middle Ages, and, of course, there must have been, at different periods before the year 1200, epochs when the erosion and transportation of solid matter from the Alps and the Apennines were at least as great as since the year 1600.

Upon the whole, we shall not greatly err if we assume that, for a period of not less than two thousand years, the walls of the basin of the Po—the Italian slope of the Alps, and the northern and north-eastern declivities of the Apennines—have annually sent down into the lakes, the plains, and the Adriatic, not less than 375,000,000 cubic yards of earth and disintegrated rock. We have, then, an aggregate of 750,000,000,000 cubic yards of such material, which, allowing to the mountain surface in question an area of 50,000,000,000 square yards, would cover the whole to the depth of fifteen yards. [Footnote: The total superficies of the basin of the Po, down to Ponte Lagoscuro [Ferrara]—a point where it has received all its affluents—is 6,938,200 hectares, that is, 4,105,600 in mountain lands, 2,832,600 in plain lands.—Dumont, Travaux Publics, etc., p. 272. These latter two quantities are equal respectively to 10,145,348, and 6,999,638 acres, or 15,852 and 10,937 square miles.] There are very large portions of this area, where, as we know from ancient remains—roads, bridges, and the like—from other direct testimony, and from geological considerations, very little degradation has taken place within twenty centuries, and hence the quantity to be assigned to localities where the destructive causes have been most active is increased in proportion.

If this vast mass of pulverized rock and earth were restored to the localities from which it was derived, it certainly would not obliterate valleys and gorges hollowed out by great geological causes, but it would reduce the length and diminish the depth of ravines of later formation, modify the inclination of their walls, reclothe with earth many bare mountain ridges, essentially change the line of junction between plain and mountain, and carry back a long reach of the Adriatic coast many miles to the west. [Footnote: I do not use these quantities as factors the value of which is precisely ascertained; nor, for the purposes of the present argument, is quantitative exactness important. I employ numerical statements simply as a means of aiding the imagination to form a general and certainly not extravagant idea of the extent of geographical revolutions which man has done much to accelerate, if not, strictly speaking, to produce.

There is an old proverb, Dolus latet in generalibus, and Arthur Young in not the only public economist who has warned his readers against the deceitfulness of round numbers. I think, on the contrary, that vastly more error has been produced by the affectation of precision in cases where precision is impossible.

In all the great operations of terrestrial nature, the elements are so numerous and so difficult of exact appreciation, that, until the means of scientific observation and measurement are much more perfected than they now are, we must content ourselves with general approximations. I say TERRESTRIAL nature, because in cosmical movements we have fewer elements to deal with, and may therefore arrive at much more rigorous proportional accuracy in determination of time and place than we can in fixing and predicting the quantities and the epochs of variable natural phenomena on the earth's surface.

Travellers are often misled by local habits in the use of what may be called representative numbers, where a definite is put for an indefinite quantity. A Greek, who wished to express the notion of a great but undetermined number, "myriad, or ten thousand;" a Roman, "six hundred;" an Oriental, "forty," or, at present, very commonly, "fifteen thousand." Many a tourist has gravely repeated, as an ascertained fact; the vague statement of the Arabs and the monks of Mount Sinai, that the ascent from the convent of St. Catherine to the summit of Gebel Moosa counts "fifteen thousand" steps, though the difference of level is two thousand feet; and the "Forty" Thieves, the "forty" martyr-monks of the convent of El Arbain—not to speak of a similar use of this numeral in more important cases—have often been understood as expressions of a known number, when in fact they mean simply MANY. The number "fifteen thousand" has found its way to Rome, and De Quincey seriously informs us, on the authority of a lady who had been at much pains to ascertain the EXACT truth, that, including closets large enough for a bed, the Vatican contains fifteen thousand rooms. Any one who has observed the vast dimensions of most of the apartments of that structure will admit that we make a very small allowance of space when we assign a square rod, sixteen and a half feet square, to each room upon the average. On an acre, there might be one hundred and sixty such rooms, including partition walls; and, to contain fifteen thousand of them, a building must cover more than nine acres, and be ten stories high, or possess other equivalent dimensions, which, as every traveller knows, many times exceeds the truth.

The value of a high standard of accuracy in scientific observation can hardly be overrated; but habits of rigorous exactness will never be formed by an investigator who allows himself to trust implicitly to the numerical precision or the results of a few experiments. The wonderful accuracy of geodetic measurements in modern times is, in general, attained by taking the mean of a great number of observations at every station, and this final precision is but the mutual balance and compensation of numerous errors.

The pretended exactness of statistical tables is too often little better than an imposture; and those founded not on direct estimation by competent observers, but on the report of persons who have no particular interest in knowing the truth, but often have a motive for distorting it, are commonly to be regarded as but vague guesses at the actual fact.]

It is, indeed, not to be supposed that all the degradation of the mountains is due to the destruction of the forests—that the flanks of every Alpine valley in Central Europe below the snow-line were once covered with earth and green with woods, but there are not many particular cases in which we can, with certainty, or even with strong probability, affirm the contrary.

Mountain Slides.

Terrible as are the ravages of the torrent and the river-flood, the destruction of the woods exposes human life and industry to calamities even more appalling than those which I have yet described. The slide in the Notch of the White Mountains, by which the Willey family lost their lives, is an instance of the sort I refer to, though I am not able to say that in this particular case the slip of the earth and rock was produced by the denudation of the surface. It may have been occasioned by this cause, or by the construction of the road through the Notch, the excavations for which, perhaps, cut through the natural buttresses that supported the sloping strata above.

Not to speak of the fall of earth when the roots which held it together, and the bed of leaves and mould which sheltered it both from disintegrating frost and from sudden drenching and dissolution by heavy showers, are gone, it is easy to see that, in a climate with severe winters, the removal of the forest, and, consequently, of the soil it had contributed to form, might cause the displacement and descent of great masses of rock. The woods, the vegetable mould, and the soil beneath, protect the rocks they cover from the direct action of heat and cold, and from the expansion and contraction which accompany them. Most rocks, while covered with earth, contain a considerable quantity of water. [Footnote: Rock is permeable by water to a greater extent than is generally supposed. Freshly quarried marble, and even granite, as well as most other stones, are sensibly heavier, as well as softer and more easily wrought, than after they are dried and hardened by air-seasoning. Many sandstones are porous enough to serve as filters for liquids, and much of that of Upper Egypt and Nubia hisses audibly when thrown into water, from the escape of the air forced out of it by hydrostatic pressure and the capillary attraction of the pores for water. Even the denser silicious stones are penetrable by fluids and the coloring matter they contain, to such an extent that agates and other forms of silex may be artificially stained through their substance. The colors of the stones cut at Oberstein are generally produced, or at least heightened, by art. This art was known to and practised by the ancient lapidaries, and it has been revived in recent times.]

A fragment of rock pervaded with moisture cracks and splits, if thrown into a furnace, and sometimes with a loud detonation; and it is a familiar observation that the fire, in burning over newly cleared lands, breaks up and sometimes almost pulverizes the stones. This effect is due partly to the unequal expansion of the stone, partly to the action of heat on the water it contains in its pores. The sun, suddenly let in upon rock which had been covered with moist earth for centuries, produces more or less disintegration in the same way, and the stone is also exposed to chemical influences from which it was sheltered before. But in the climate of the United States as well as of the Alps, frost is a still more powerful agent in breaking up mountain masses. The soil that protects the lime and sandstone, the slate and the granite from the influence of the sun, also prevents the water which filters into their crevices and between their strata from freezing in the hardest winters, and the moisture descends, in a liquid form, until it escapes in springs, or passes off by deep subterranean channels. But when the ridges are laid bare, the water of the autumnal rains fills the minutest pores and veins and fissures and lines of separation of the rocks, then suddenly freezes, and bursts asunder huge, and apparently solid blocks of adamantine stone. [Footnote: Palissy had observed the action of frost in disintegrating rock, and he thus describes it, in his essay on the formation of ice: "I know that the stones of the mountains of Ardennes be harder than marble. Nevertheless, the people of that country do not quarry the said stones in winter, for that they be subject to frost; and many times the rocks have been seen to fall without being cut, by means whereof many people have been killed, when the said rocks were thawing." Palissy was ignorant of the expansion of water in freezing—in fact, he supposed that the mechanical force exerted by freezing-water was due to compression, not dilatation—and therefore he ascribes to thawing alone effects resulting not less from congelation.

Various forces combine to produce the stone avalanches of the higher Alps, the fall of which is one of the greatest dangers incurred by the adventurous explorers of those regions—the direct action of the sun upon the stone, the expansion of freezing-water, and the loosening of masses of rock by the thawing of the ice which supported them or held them together.]

Where the strata are inclined at a considerable angle, the freezing of a thin film of water over a large interstratal area might occasion a slide that should cover miles with its ruins; and similar results might be produced by the simple hydrostatic pressure of a column of water, admitted, by the removal of the covering of earth, to flow into a crevice faster than it could escape through orifices below. Earth or rather mountain slides, compared to which the catastrophe that buried the Willey family in New Hampshire was but a pinch of dust, have often occurred in the Swiss, Italian, and French Alps. The land-slip, which overwhelmed, and covered to the depth of seventy feet, the town of Plurs in the valley of the Maira, on the night of the 4th of September, 1618, sparing not a soul of a population of 2,430 inhabitants, is one of the most memorable of these catastrophes, and the fall of the Rossberg or Rufiberg, which destroyed the little town of Goldan in Switzerland, and 450 of its people, on the 2d of September, 1806, is almost equally celebrated. In 1771, according to Wessely, the mountain-peak Piz, near Alleghe in the province of Belluno, slipped into the bed of the Cordevole, a tributary of the Piave, destroying in its fall three hamlets and sixty lives. The rubbish filled the valley for a distance of nearly two miles, and, by damming up the waters of the Cordevole, formed a lake about three miles long, and a hundred and fifty feet deep, which still subsists, though reduced to half its original length by the wearing down of its outlet. [Footnote: Wessely, Die Oesterreichischen Alpenlander und ihre Forste, pp. 125, 126. Wessely records several other more or less similar occurrences in the Austrian Alps. Some of them, certainly, are not to be ascribed to the removal of the woods, but in most cases they are clearly traceable to that cause. See Revue des Eaux et Forets for 1860, pp. 182, 205.]

The important provincial town of Veleia, near Piacenza, where many interesting antiquities have been discovered within a few years, was buried by a vast land-slip, probably about the time of Probus, but no historical record of the event has survived to us.

On the 14th of February, 1855, the hill of Belmonte, a little below the parish of San Stefano, in Tuscany, slid into the valley of the Tiber, which consequently flooded the village to the depth of fifty feet, and was finally drained off by a tunnel. The mass of debris is stated to have been about 3,500 feet long, 1,000 wide, and not less than 600 high. [Footnote: Bianchi, Appendix to the Italian translation of Mrs. Somerville'S Physical Geography, p. xxxvi.]

Occurrences of this sort have been so numerous in the Alps and Apennines, that almost every Italian mountain commune has its tradition, its record, or its still visible traces of a great land-slip within its own limits. The old chroniclers contain frequent notices of such calamities, and Giovanni Villani even records the destruction of fifty houses and the loss of many lives by a slide of what seems to have been a spur of the hill of San Giorgio in the city of Florence, in the year 1284. [Footnote: Cronica di Giovani Villani, lib. vii., cap. 97. For descriptions of other slides in Italy, see same author, lib. xi, cap. 26; Fanfani, Antologia Italiana, parte ii., p. 95; Giuliani, Linguaggio vivente della Toscana, 1865, lettera 63.]

Such displacements of earth and rocky strata rise to the magnitude of geological convulsions, but they are of so rare occurrence in countries still covered by the primitive forest, so common where the mountains have been stripped of their native covering, and, in many cases, so easily explicable by the drenching of incohesive earth from rain, or the free admission of water between the strata of rocks—both of which a coating of vegetation would have prevented—that we are justified in ascribing them for the most part to the same cause as that to which the destructive effects of mountain torrents are chiefly due—the felling of the woods. [Footnote: There is good reason for thinking that many of the earth and rock slides in the Alps occurred at an earlier period than the origin of the forest vegetation which, in later ages, covered the flanks of those mountains. See Bericht uber die Untersuchung der Schweizerischen Hochgebirgswaldungen, 1862, p. 61.

Where more recent slides have been again clothed with woods, the trees, shrubs, and smaller plants which spontaneously grow upon them are usually of different species from those observed upon soil displaced at remote periods. This difference is so marked that the site of a slide can often be recognized at a great distance by the general color of the foliage of its vegetation.]

In nearly every case of this sort the circumstances of which are known—except the rare instances attributable to earthquakes—the immediate cause of the slip has been the imbibition of water in large quantities by bare earth, or its introduction between or beneath solid strata. If water insinuates itself between the strata, it creates a sliding surface, or it may, by its expansion in freezing, separate beds of rock, which had been nearly continuous before, widely enough to allow the gravitation of the superincumbent mass to overcome the resistance afforded by inequalities of face and by friction; if it finds its way beneath hard earth or rock reposing on clay or other bedding of similar properties, it converts the supporting layer into a semi-fluid mud, which opposes no obstacle to the sliding of the strata above.