WOOD FROM AIR. ew | 
ed one hundred and sixty-nine pounds. And 
this estimate did not include the weight of the 
leaves or dead branches which in five years fell 
from the tree. Now came the application of the 
test. Was all this obtained from the earth? It 
had not sensibly diminished; but, in order to 
make the experiment conclusive, it was again 
dried in an oven and put in the balance. As- 
tonishing was the result—the earth only weighed 
two ounces less than it did when the willow was 
first planted in it! Yet the tree which grew in 
it had gained one hundred and sixty-four pounds. 
Manifestly, then, the wood thus gained in this 
space of time was not obtained from the earth. 
We are, therefore, compelled to repeat our ques- 
tion—Where does the wood come from? We 
are left with only two alternatives,—the water 
with which it was refreshed, or the air in which 
it lived. It can be clearly shewn that it was 
not due to the water: we are, consequently, 
unable to resist the perplexing and wonderful 
conclusion,—it is derived from the azr. 
Can it be? Were those great ocean-spaces of 
wood, which are as old as Man’s introduction 
into Eden, and wave in their vast but solitary 
