The Natural History of Set borne 307 



upon a very curious one in a spot where it might least be 

 expected. At first he was much surprised, and could not be 

 persuaded but that he was mocked by some boy ; but repeat- 

 ing his trials in several languages, and finding his respondent 

 to be a very adroit polyglot, he then discerned the deception. 

 This echo in an evening before rural noises cease, would 

 repeat ten syllables most articulately and distinctly, especially 

 if quick dactyls were chosen. The last syllables of 

 " Tityre, tu patul<z recubans . . .' 



were as audibly and intelligibly returned as the first; and 

 there is no doubt, could trial have been made, but that at 

 midnight when the air is very elastic, and a dead stillness pre- 

 vails, one or two syllables more might have been obtained ; but 

 the distance rendered so late an experiment very inconvenient. 



Quick dactyls, we observed, succeeded best; for when we 

 came to try its powers in slow, heavy, embarrassed spondees of 

 the same number of syllables, 



" Monstrum horretidum, infortne, ingens . . ." 

 we could perceive a return but of four or five. 



All echoes have some one place to which they are returned 

 stronger and more distinct than to any other; and that is 

 always the place that lies at right angles with the object of 

 repercussion, and is not too near nor too far off. Buildings, 

 or naked rocks, re-echo much more articulately than hanging 

 woods or vales ; because in the latter the voice is, as it were, 

 entangled and embarrassed in the covert, and weakened in the 

 rebound. 



The true object of this echo, as we found by various ex- 

 periments, is the stone-built, tiled hop-kiln in Gally-lane, 

 which measures in front forty feet, and from the ground to 

 the eaves twelve feet. The true centrum phonicum, or just 

 distance, is one particular spot in the King's field, in the path 

 to Nore-hill, on the very brink of the steep balk above the 

 hollow cart- way. In this case there is no choice of distance; 

 but the path, by mere contingency, happens to be the lucky, 

 the identical spot, because the ground rises or falls so 



