These ideas occurred to me one day as, seated upon Mont Ussy, I looked across Fontainebleau. I comprehended how, in this confined and ordinary region--in this apparent chaos of rocks, and trees, and sandstone--prevailed a tolerable degree of order, which necessarily concealed within it a mystery not obvious at the first glance. As a whole, it is almost a circle of hills and forests, all dry on the surface; but the sandstone is very pervious, and the sand filtrates with great facility. And the unseen waters, descend in all directions to a great reservoir which occupies the depths. Storms are frequent here, but do not spread very far. We may nearly always expect them, for the forest detains and arrests them, preserves for itself the wealth of suspended waters, transmitting them to the lower grounds after they have been sifted through the leaves, the woods, and the sands. All this occurs below, without the process ever becoming visible. [Illustration] Dig, and you shall find. There lies the charm, the vitality of the _genius loci_. The word "genius" conveys too great an idea of fixity, and that of "fairy" is more appropriate. Who shall describe the mystery of this profound hidden basin? this simple and attractive delusion, which, while promising only dryness, faithfully stores up underneath the treasure of its waters? An eminent Italian artist has given expression to it in the paintings which adorn the Hall of Henry II. It is the _Nemorosa_, the Wood-Nymph, with hands full of wild-flowers, hiding beneath a rugged rock, but subdued and dreamy, and with eyes swimming tearfully. In the course of our labours, and especially on days when fell a fine soft rain, we frequently appreciated this sentiment. It prevailed around us like a concentration of nature. In the deep silence we could hear only our beating hearts, the pendulum of the clock, or the occasional cry of the swallow passing above our heads. Calmed, but not lulled asleep, with clearer brain and keener eye than before, we penetrated further into the shadowy world of the atom, to discover its actual nature; the light, and especially the love, which is the true legitimate sovereign of this lower world; the tongue, the eloquent voice, by which it appeals to the upper world. [Illustration] [Illustration] IV. OUR STUDIES AT FONTAINEBLEAU. (_Continued._) Even in its hours of silence, the forest occasionally finds a voice, a sound, or a murmur, which recalls to you the remembrance of life. Sometimes the laborious woodpecker, laboriously toiling at its task of excavating the oak, cheers itself with its singular cry. [Illustration] Frequently the heavy hammer of the quarryman, falling and falling on the sandstone, resounds in the distance with a hoarse, dull echo. And finally, if you listen attentively, you catch a significant hum, and see, at your feet, legions of ants,--countless populations, the true inhabitants of the place, speeding over the withered and falling leaves.