We see that lightning does not make more ado about exhaling its baleful breath on the life of plants, than on animals and men. And moreover, that it often strikes these latter with sudden death without leaving a trace of its passing, just as sometimes it strikes the trees without leaving any exterior injury. Now and then life is not completely extinguished, and little by little the tree recovers its health. Often the vitality is not changed, one sees the tree which was struck bear fruit as before the catastrophe. Has it not been asserted that lightning may exert a benign influence on vegetation? This was the opinion of the ancients. _A propos_ of this, Pliny said, "That thunder is rarely heard in winter, and that the great fertility of the soil is due to the frequency of thunder and rain in spring; for the countries where it rains often and in good earnest during the spring, as in the island of Sicily, produce many and excellent fruits." It has been proved in our times that the ancients were right in extolling rainwater as nourishment for the products of the earth, and science has discovered the cause to be the presence of great quantities of nitrogen and ammonia in the thunder-rain and in hail. Perhaps electricity has a similar effect. In the neighbourhood of Castres, on April 13, 1781, an old poplar was stripped of its bark in several places. Now, shortly afterwards it burst into leaf, although the neighbouring poplars were much later than it. The ravages caused in the fields by the electric meteor to forage and vegetables are sometimes considerable. This is especially so with grass when cut, to haycocks, ricks of straw, barley, etc. We have a collection of records of men or animals who, when leaning against haystacks, were struck. As a rule the haystack is burnt; sometimes, however, the grass is simply scattered and thrown to a distance. In 1888, a very curious occurrence was observed at Vayres (Haute-Vienne). The lightning struck a field of potatoes at the village of Puytreuillard; some of the stalks were burnt to cinders; but most remarkable of all, _the potatoes were done to a turn_, just as if they had been cooked beneath hot ashes. A belief which was very general in ancient times and derived without doubt from a recollection of the circumstances which were said to accompany the birth of Bacchus, gave the vine the privilege of protecting the neighbourhood from the fatal effects of lightning. But this again is only a legend. The following observation proves it:-- On July 10, 1884, at Chanvres (Yonne), fifty vine-stocks were frizzled up by lightning.