Please see [Transcriber's Notes] at the end of this text.

THE FIRST MAN.

THE
World before the Deluge.

BY

LOUIS FIGUIER.

NEWLY EDITED AND REVISED
BY
H. W. BRISTOW, F.R.S., F.G.S.,

Of the Geological Survey of Great Britain; Hon. Fellow of King’s College, London.

With 235 Illustrations.

CASSELL, PETTER, & GALPIN,
LONDON, PARIS, AND NEW YORK.

CONTENTS.

FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS.

PREFACE.

The object of “The World before the Deluge” is to trace the progressive steps by which the earth has reached its present state, from that condition of chaos when it “was without form and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep,” and to describe the various convulsions and transformations through which it has successively passed. In the words of the poet—

“Where rolls the deep, there grew the tree;
O Earth, what changes hast thou seen!
There, where the long street roars, hath been
The silence of the central sea.”

It has been thought desirable that the present edition of the work should undergo a thorough revision by a practical geologist, a task which Mr. H. W. Bristow has performed. Mr. Bristow has however confined himself to such alterations as were necessary to secure accuracy in the statement of facts, and such additions as were necessary to represent more precisely the existing state of scientific opinion. Many points which are more or less inferential and therefore matters of individual opinion, and especially those on which M. Figuier bases his speculations, have been left in their original form, in preference to making modifications which would wholly change the character of the book. In a work whose purpose is to give the general reader a summarised account of the results at which science has arrived, and of the method of reasoning regarding the facts on which these generalisations rest, it would be out of place, as well as ineffective, to obscure general statements with those limitations which caution imposes on the scientific investigator.

In the original work the Author had naturally enough drawn most of his facts from French localities; in the translation these are mostly preserved, but others drawn from British Geology have been added, either from the translator’s own knowledge, or from the works of well-known British writers. It was considered desirable, for similar reasons, to enlarge upon the opinions of British geologists, to whom the French work scarcely does justice, considering the extent to which the science is indebted to them for its elucidation.

In the original work the chapter on Eruptive Rocks comes at the end of the work, but, as the work proceeded, so many unexplained allusions to that chapter were found that it seemed more logical, and more in accordance with chronological order, if the expression may be used, to place that chapter at the beginning.

A new edition of the French work having appeared in the early part of 1866, to which the Author contributed a chapter on Metamorphic Rocks, a translation of it is appended to the chapter on Eruptive Rocks.

A chapter on the Rhætic (or Penarth) beds has been inserted (amongst much other original matter), the stratigraphical importance of that series having been recognised since the publication of the First Edition.

In the present Edition the text has been again thoroughly revised by Mr. Bristow, and many important additions made, the result of the recent investigations of himself and his colleagues of the Geological Survey.

THE
World before the Deluge.

GENERAL CONSIDERATIONS.

The observer who glances over a rich and fertile plain, watered by rivers and streams which have, during a long series of ages, pursued the same uniform and tranquil course; the traveller who contemplates the walls and monuments of a great city, the first founding of which is lost in the night of ages, testifying, apparently, to the unchangeableness of things and places; the naturalist who examines a mountain or other locality, and finds the hills and valleys and other accidents of the soil in the very spot and condition in which they are described by history and tradition—none of these observers would at first suspect that any serious change had ever occurred to disturb the surface of the globe. Nevertheless, the earth has not always presented the calm aspect of stability which it now exhibits; it has had its convulsions, and its physical revolutions, whose story we are about to trace. The earth, like the body of an animal, is wasted, as the philosophical Hutton tells us, at the same time that it is repaired. It has a state of growth and augmentation; it has another state, which is that of diminution and decay: it is destroyed in one part to be renewed in another; and the operations by which the renewal is accomplished are as evident to the scientific eye as those by which it is destroyed. A thousand causes, aqueous, igneous, and atmospheric, are continually at work modifying the external form of the earth, wearing down the older portions of its surface, and reconstructing newer out of the older; so that in many parts of the world denudation has taken place to the extent of many thousand feet. Buried in the depths of the soil, for example, in one of those vast excavations which the intrepidity of the miner has dug in search of coal or other minerals, there are numerous phenomena which strike the mind of the inquirer, and carry their own conclusions with them. A striking increase of temperature in these subterranean places is one of the most remarkable of these. It is found that the temperature of the earth rises one degree for every sixty or seventy feet of descent from its surface. Again: if the mine be examined vertically, it is found to consist of a series of layers or beds, sometimes horizontal, but more frequently inclined, upright, or contorted and undulating—even folded back upon themselves. Then, instances are numerous where horizontal and parallel beds have been penetrated, and traversed vertically or obliquely by veins of ores or minerals totally different in their appearance and nature from the surrounding rocks. All these undulations and varying inclinations of strata are indications that some powerful cause, some violent mechanical action, has intervened to produce them. Finally, if the interior of the beds be examined more minutely—if, armed with the miner’s pick and hammer, the rock is carefully broken up—it is not impossible that the very first efforts at mining may be rewarded by the discovery of some fossilised organic form no longer found in the living state. The remains of plants and animals belonging to the earlier ages of the world, are, in fact, very common; entire strata are sometimes formed of them; and in some localities the rocks can scarcely be disturbed without yielding fragments of bones and shells, or the impressions of fossilised animals and vegetables—the buried remains of extinct creations.

These bones—these remains of animals or vegetables which the hammer of the geologist has torn from the rock—belong possibly to some organism which no longer any where exists: it may not be identical with any animal or plant living in our times: but it is evident that these beings, whose remains are now so deeply buried, have not always been so covered; they once lived on the surface of the earth as plants and animals do in our days, for their organisation is essentially the same. The beds in which they now repose must, then, in older times have formed the surface of the earth; and the presence of these fossils proves that the earth has suffered great mutations at some former period of its history.

Geology explains to us the various transformations which the earth has passed through before it arrived at its present condition. We can determine, with its help, the comparative epoch to which any beds belong, as well as the order in which others have been superimposed upon them. Considering that the stratigraphical crust of the earth with which the geologist has to deal may be some ten miles thick, and that it has been deposited in distinct layers in a definite order of succession, the dates or epochs of each formation may well be approached with hesitation and caution.

Dr. Hutton, the earliest of our philosophical geologists, eloquently observes, in his “Theory of the Earth,” that the solid earth is everywhere wasted at the surface. The summits of the mountains are necessarily degraded. The solid and weighty materials of these mountains have everywhere been carried through the valleys by the force of running water. The soil which is produced in the destruction of the solid earth is gradually transported by the moving waters, and is as constantly supplying vegetation with its necessary aid. This drifted soil is at last deposited upon some coast, where it forms a fertile country. But the billows of the ocean again agitate the loose material upon the shore, wearing away the coast with endless repetitions of this act of power and imparted force; the solid portion of our earth, thus sapped to its foundations, is carried away into the deep and sunk again at the bottom of the sea whence it had originated, and from which sooner or later it will again make its appearance. We are thus led to see a circulation of destruction and renewal in the matter of which the globe is formed, and a system of beautiful economy in the works of Nature. Again, discriminating between the ordinary and scientific observer, the same writer remarks, that it is not given to common observation to see the operation of physical causes. The shepherd thinks the mountain on which he feeds his flock has always been there. The inhabitant of the valley cultivates the soil as his fathers did before him, and thinks the soil coeval with the valley or the mountain. But the scientific observer looks into the chain of physical events, sees the great changes that have been made, and foresees others that must follow from the continued operation of like natural causes. For, as Pythagoras taught 2,350 years ago, “the minerals and the rocks, the islands and the continents, the rivers and the seas, and all organic Nature, are perpetually changing; there is nothing stationary on earth.” To note these changes—to decipher the records of this system of waste and reconstruction, to trace the physical history of the earth—is the province of Geology, which, the latest of all modern sciences, is that which has been modified most profoundly and most rapidly. In short, resting as it does on observation, it has been modified and transformed according to every series of facts recorded; but while many of the facts of geology admit of easy and obvious demonstration, it is far otherwise with the inferences which have been based upon them, which are mostly hypothetical, and in many instances from their very nature incapable of proof. Its applications are numerous and varied, projecting new and useful lights upon many other sciences. Here we ask of it the teachings which serve to explain the origin of the globe—the evidence it furnishes of the progressive formation of the different rocks and mineral masses of which the earth is composed—the description and restoration of the several species of animals and vegetables which have existed, have died and become extinct, and which form, in the language of naturalists, the Fauna and Flora of the ancient world.

In order to explain the origin of the earth, and the cause of its various revolutions, modern geologists invoke three orders of facts, or fundamental considerations:

I. The hypothesis of the original incandescence of the globe.

II. The consideration of fossils.

III. The successive deposition of the sedimentary rocks.

As a corollary to these, the hypothesis of the upheaval of the earth’s crust follows—upheavals having produced local revolutions. The result of these upheavals has been to superimpose new materials upon the older rocks, introducing extraneous rocks called Eruptive, beneath, upon, and amongst preceding deposits, in such a manner as to change their nature in divers ways. Whence is derived a third class of rocks called Metamorphic or altered rocks, our knowledge of which is of comparatively recent date.

Fossils.

The name of Fossil (from fossilis, dug up) is given to all organised bodies, animal or vegetable, buried naturally in the terrestrial strata, and more or less petrified, that is, converted into stone. Fossils of the older formations are remains of organisms which, so far as species is concerned, are quite extinct; and only those of recent formations belong to genera living in our days. These fossil remains have neither the beauty nor the elegance of most living species, being mutilated, discoloured, and often almost shapeless; they are, therefore, interesting only in the eyes of the observer who would interrogate them, and who seeks to reconstruct, with their assistance, the Fauna and Flora of past ages. Nevertheless, the light they throw upon the past history of the earth is of the most satisfactory description, and the science of fossils, or palæontology, is now an important branch of geological inquiry. Fossil shells, in the more recent deposits, are found scarcely altered; in some cases only an impression of the external form is left—sometimes an entire cast of the shell, exterior and interior. In other cases the shell has left a perfect impression of its form in the surrounding mud, and has then been dissolved and washed away, leaving only its mould. This mould, again, has sometimes been filled up by calcareous spar, silica, or pyrites, and an exact cast of the original shell has thus been obtained. Petrified wood is also of very common occurrence.

These remains of an earlier creation had long been known to the curious, and classed as freaks of Nature, for so we find them described in the works of the ancient philosophers who wrote on natural history, and in the few treatises on the subject which the Middle Ages have bequeathed to us. Fossil bones, especially those of elephants, were known to the ancients, giving rise to all sorts of legends and fabulous histories: the tradition which attributed to Achilles, to Ajax, and to other heroes of the Trojan war, a height of twenty feet, is attributable, no doubt, to the discovery of the bones of elephants near their tombs. In the time of Pericles we are assured that in the tomb of Ajax a patella, or knee-bone of that hero, was found, which was as large as a dinner-plate. This was probably only the patella of a fossil elephant.

The uses to which fossils are applied by the geologist are—First, to ascertain the relative age of the formations in which they occur; secondly, the conditions under which these were deposited. The age of the formation is determined by a comparison of the fossils it contains with others of ascertained date; the conditions under which the rocks were deposited, whether marine, lacustrine, or terrestrial, are readily inferred from the nature of the fossils. The great artist, Leonardo da Vinci, was the first to comprehend the real meaning of fossils, and Bernard Palissy had the glory of being the first modern writer to proclaim the true character of the fossilised remains which are met with, in such numbers, in certain formations, both in France and Italy, particularly in those of Touraine, where they had come more especially under his notice. In his work on “Waters and Fountains,” published in 1580, he maintains that the figured stones, as fossils were then called, were the remains of organised beings preserved at the bottom of the sea. But the existence of marine shells upon the summits of mountains had already arrested the attention of ancient authors. Witness Ovid, who in Book XV. of the “Metamorphoses” tells us he had seen land formed at the expense of the sea, and marine shells lying dead far from the ocean; and more than that, an ancient anchor had been found on the very summit of a mountain.

“Vidi factas ex æquore terras,
Et procul a pelago conchæ jacuere marinæ,
Et vetus inventa est in montibus anchora summis.”

Ov., Met., Book xv.

The Danish geologist Steno, who published his principal works in Italy about the middle of the seventeenth century, had deeply studied the fossil shells discovered in that country. The Italian painter Scilla produced in 1670 a Latin treatise on the fossils of Calabria, in which he established the organic nature of fossil shells.

The eighteenth century gave birth to two very opposite theories as to the origin of our globe—namely, the Plutonian or igneous, and the Neptunian or aqueous theory. The Italian geologists gave a marked impulse to the study of fossils, and the name of Vallisneri[1] may be cited as the author to whom science is indebted for the earliest account of the marine deposits of Italy, and of the most characteristic organic remains which they contain. Lazzaro Moro[2] continued the studies of Vallisneri, and the monk Gemerelli reduced to a complete system the ideas of these two geologists, endeavouring to explain all the phenomena as Vallisneri had wished, “without violence, without fiction, without miracles.” Marselli and Donati both studied in a very scientific manner the fossil shells of Italy, and in particular those of the Adriatic, recognising the fact that they affected in their beds a regular and constant order of superposition.[3]

In France the celebrated Buffon gave, by his eloquent writings, great popularity to the notions of the Italian naturalists concerning the origin of fossil remains. In his admirable “Époques de la Nature” he sought to prove that the shells found in great quantities buried in the soil, and even on the tops of mountains, belonged, in reality, to species not living in our days. But this idea was too novel not to find objectors: it counted among its adversaries the bold philosopher who might have been expected to adopt it with most ardour. Voltaire attacked, with his jesting and biting criticism, the doctrines of the illustrious innovator. Buffon insisted, reasonably enough, that the presence of shells on the summit of the Alps was a proof that the sea had at one time occupied that position. But Voltaire asserted that the shells found on the Alps and Apennines had been thrown there by pilgrims returning from Rome. Buffon might have replied to his opponent, by pointing out whole mountains formed by the accumulation of these shells. He might have sent him to the Pyrenees, where shells of marine origin cover immense areas to a height of 6,600 feet above the present sea-level. But his genius was averse to controversy; and the philosopher of Ferney himself put an end to a discussion in which, perhaps, he would not have had the best of the argument. “I have no wish,” he wrote, “to embroil myself with Monsieur Buffon about shells.”

It was reserved for the genius of George Cuvier to draw from the study of fossils the most wonderful results: it is the study of these remains, in short, which, in conjunction with mineralogy, constitutes in these days positive geology. “It is to fossils,” says the great Cuvier, “that we owe the discovery of the true theory of the earth; without them we should not have dreamed, perhaps, that the globe was formed at successive epochs, and by a series of different operations. They alone, in short, tell us with certainty that the globe has not always had the same envelope; we cannot resist the conviction that they must have lived on the surface of the earth before being buried in its depths. It is only by analogy that we have extended to the primary formations the direct conclusions which fossils furnish us with in respect to the secondary formations; and if we had only unfossiliferous rocks to examine, no one could maintain that the earth was not formed all at once.”[4]

The method adopted by Cuvier for the reconstruction and restoration of the fossil animals found in the plaster-quarries of Montmartre, at the gates of Paris, has served as a model for all succeeding naturalists; let us listen, then, to his exposition of the vast problem whose solution he proposed to himself. “In my work on fossil bones,” he says, “I propose to ascertain to what animals the osseous fragments belong; it is seeking to traverse a road on which we have as yet only ventured a few steps. An antiquary of a new kind, it seemed to me necessary to learn both to restore these monuments of past revolutions, and to decipher their meaning. I had to gather and bring together in their primitive order the fragments of which they are composed; to reconstruct the ancient beings to which these fragments belonged; to reproduce them in their proportions and with their characteristics; to compare them, finally, with others now living on the surface of the globe: an art at present little known, and which supposes a science scarcely touched upon as yet, namely, that of the laws which preside over the co-existence of the forms of the several parts in organised beings. I must, then, prepare myself for these researches by others, still more extended, upon existing animals. A general review of actual creation could alone give a character of demonstration to my account of these ancient inhabitants of the world; but it ought, at the same time, to give me a great collection of laws, and of relations not less demonstrable, thus forming a body of new laws to which the whole animal kingdom could not fail to find itself subject.”[5]

“When the sight of a few bones inspired me, more than twenty years ago, with the idea of applying the general laws of comparative anatomy to the reconstruction and determination of fossil species; when I began to perceive that these species were not quite perfectly represented by those of our days, which resembled them the most—I no longer doubted that I trod upon a soil filled with spoils more extraordinary than any I had yet seen, and that I was destined to bring to light entire races unknown to the present world, and which had been buried for incalculable ages at great depths in the earth.

“I had not yet given any attention to the published notices of these bones, by naturalists who made no pretension to the recognition of their species. To M. Vaurin, however, I owe the first intimation of the existence of these bones, with which the gypsum-quarries swarm. Some specimens which he brought me one day struck me with astonishment; I learned, with all the interest the discovery could inspire me with, that this industrious and zealous collector had already furnished some of them to other collectors. Received by these amateurs with politeness, I found in their collections much to confirm my hopes and heighten my curiosity. From that time I searched in all the quarries with great care for other bones, offering such rewards to the workmen as might awaken their attention. I soon got together more than had ever been previously collected, and after a few years I had nothing to desire in the shape of materials. But it was otherwise with their arrangement, and with the reconstruction of the skeleton, which could alone lead to any just idea of the species.

“From the first moment of discovery I perceived that, in these remains, the species were numerous. Soon afterwards I saw that they belonged to many genera, and that the species of the different genera were nearly the same size, so that size was likely rather to hinder than aid me. Mine was the case of a man to whom had been given at random the mutilated and imperfect remains of some hundreds of skeletons belonging to twenty sorts of animals; it was necessary that each bone should find itself alongside that to which it ought to be connected: it was almost like a small resurrection, and I had not at my disposal the all-powerful trumpet; but I had the immutable laws prescribed to living beings as my guide; and at the voice of the anatomist each bone and each part of a bone took its place. I have not expressions with which to describe the pleasure I experienced in finding that, as soon as I discovered the character of a bone, all the consequences of the character, more or less foreseen, developed themselves in succession: the feet were found conformable to what the teeth announced; the teeth to that announced by the feet; the bones of the legs, of the thighs, all those which ought to reunite these two extreme parts, were found to agree as I expected; in a word, each species was reproduced, so to speak, from only one of its elements.”[6]

While the Baron Cuvier was thus zealously prosecuting his inquiries in France, assisted by many eminent fellow-labourers, what was the state of geological science in the British Islands? About that same time, Dr. William Smith, better known as “the father of English geology,” was preparing, unaided, the first geological map of this country. Dr. Smith was a native of Wiltshire, and a canal engineer in Somersetshire; his pursuits, therefore, brought him in the midst of these hieroglyphics of Nature. It was his practice, when travelling professionally, during many years to consult masons, miners, wagoners, and agriculturists. He examined the soil; and in the course of his inquiries he came to the conclusion that the earth was not all of the same age; that the rocks were arranged in layers, or strata, superimposed on each other in a certain definite order, and that the strata, when of the same age, could be identified by means of their organic remains. In 1794 he formed the plan of his geological map, showing the superposition of the various beds; for a quarter of a century did he pursue his self-allotted task, which was at last completed, and in 1801 was published, being the first attempt to construct a stratigraphical map.

Taking the men in the order of the objects of their investigation, rather than in chronological order, brings before us the patient and sagacious investigator to whom we are indebted for our knowledge of the Silurian system. For many years a vast assemblage of broken and contorted beds had been observed on the borders of North Wales, stretching away to the east as far as Worcestershire, and to the south into Gloucester, now rising into mountains, now sinking into valleys. The ablest geologists considered them as a mere labyrinth of ruins, whose order of succession and distinctive organic remains were entirely unknown, “But a man came,” as M. Esquiros eloquently writes, “who threw light upon this sublime confusion of elements.” Sir Roderick Impey Murchison, then a young President of the Geological Society, had his attention directed, as he himself informs us, to some of these beds on the banks of the Wye. After seven years of unremitting labour, he was rewarded by success. He established the fact that these sedimentary rocks, penetrated here and there by eruptive masses of igneous origin, formed a unique system, to which he gave the name of Silurian, because the rocks which he considered the most typical of the whole were most fully developed, charged with peculiar organic remains, in the land of the ancient Silures, who so bravely opposed the Roman invaders of their country. Many investigators have followed in Sir Roderick’s steps, but few men have so nobly earned the honours and fame with which his name is associated.

The success which attended Sir R. Murchison’s investigations soon attracted the attention of other geologists. Professor Sedgwick examined the older slaty strata, and succeeded in proving the position of the Cambrian rocks to be at the base of the Silurian. Still it was reserved for Sir William Logan, the Director of the Canadian Geological Survey, to establish the fact that immense masses of gneissic formation lay at the base of the Cambrian; and, by subsequent investigations, Sir Roderick Murchison satisfied himself that this formation was not confined to Canada, but was identical with the rocks termed by him Fundamental Gneiss, which exist in enormous masses on the west coast of Scotland, and which he proved to be the oldest stratified rocks in the British Isles. Subsequently he demonstrated the existence of these same Laurentian rocks in Bohemia and Bavaria, far beneath the Silurian rocks of Barrande.

While Murchison and Sedgwick were prosecuting their inquiries into the Silurian rocks, Hugh Miller and many others had their attention occupied with the Old Red Sandstone—the Devonian of Sedgwick and Murchison—which immediately overlies them. After a youth passed in wandering among the woods and rocks of his native Cromarty, the day came when Miller found himself twenty years of age, and, for the time, a workman in a quarry. A hard fate he thought it at the time, but to him it was the road to fame and success in life. The quarry in which he laboured was at the bottom of a bay formed by the mouth of a river opening to the south, a clear current of water on one side, as he vividly described it, and a thick wood on the other. In this silent spot, in the remote Highlands, a curious fossil fish of the Old Red Sandstone was revealed to him; its appearance struck him with astonishment; a fellow-workman named a spot where many such monuments of a former world were scattered about; he visited the place, and became a geologist and the historian of the “Old Red.” And what strange fantastic forms did it afterwards fall to his lot to describe! “The figures on a China vase or Egyptian obelisk,” he says, “differ less from the real representation of the objects than the fossil fishes of the ‘Old Red’ differ from the living forms which now swim in our seas.”

The Carboniferous Limestone, which underlies the coal, the Coal-measures themselves, the New Red Sandstone, the Lias, and the Chalk, have in their turn found their historians; but it would be foreign to our object to dwell further here on these particular branches of the subject.

Some few of the fossilised beings referred to resemble species still found living, but the greater part belong to species which have become altogether extinct. These fossil remains may constitute natural families, none of the genera of which have survived. Such is the Pterodactyle among Pterosaurian reptiles; the Ammonite among Mollusca; the Ichthyosaurus and the Plesiosaurus among the Enaliosaurian reptiles. At other times there are only extinct genera, belonging to families of which there are still some genera now living, as the genus Palæoniscus among fishes. Finally, in Tertiary deposits, we meet with some extinct species belonging to genera of our existing fauna: the Mammoth, for example, of the youngest Tertiary deposits, is an extinct species of the genus elephant.

Some fossils are terrestrial, like the gigantic Irish stag, Cervus Megaceros, the snail or Helix; fluviatile or lacustrine, like the Planorbis, the Lymnæa, the Physa, and the Unio; marine, or inhabiting the sea exclusively, as the Cowry (Cypræa), and the Oyster, (Ostrea).

Fossils are sometimes preserved in their natural state, or are but very slightly changed. Such is the state of some of the bones extracted from the more recent caves; such, also, is the condition of the insects found enclosed in the fossil resins in which they have been preserved from decomposition; and certain shells, found in recent and even in old formations, such as the Jurassic and Cretaceous strata—in some of which the shells retain their colours, as well as their brilliant pearly lustre or nacre. At Trouville, in Normandy, in the Kimeridge strata, magnificent Ammonites are found in the clay and marl, all brilliant with the colours of mother-of-pearl. In the Cretaceous beds at Machéroménil, some species of Ancyloceras and Hamites are found still covered with a nacre, displaying brilliant reflections of blue, green, and red, and retaining an admirable lustre. At Glos, near Liseaux, in the Coral Rag, not only the Ammonites, but the Trigoniæ and Aviculæ have preserved all their brilliant nacre. Sometimes these remains are much changed, the organic matter having entirely disappeared; it sometimes happens also, though rarely, that they become petrified, that is to say, the external form is preserved, but the original organic elements have wholly disappeared, and have been replaced by foreign mineral substances—generally by silica or by carbonate of lime.

Fig. 1.—Labyrinthodon pachygnathus and footmarks.

Geology also enables us to draw very important conclusions from certain fossil remains whose true nature was long misunderstood, and which, under the name of coprolites, had given rise to much controversial discussion. Coprolites are the petrified excrements of extinct fossil animals. The study of these singular remains has thrown unexpected light on the habits and physiological organisation of some of the great antediluvian animals. Their examination has revealed the scales and teeth of fishes, thus enabling us to determine the kind of food in which the animals of the ancient world indulged: for example, the coprolites of the great marine reptile which bears the name of Ichthyosaurus contain the bones of other animals, together with the remains of the vertebræ, or of the phalanges (paddle-bones) of other Ichthyosauri; showing that this animal habitually fed on the flesh of its own species, as many fishes, especially the more voracious ones, do in our days.

The imprints left upon mud or sand, which time has hardened and transformed into sandstone, furnish to the geologist another series of valuable indications. The reptiles of the ancient world, the turtles in particular, have left upon the sands, which time has transformed into blocks of stone, impressions which evidently represent the exact moulds of the feet of those animals. These impressions have, sometimes, been sufficient for naturalists to determine to what species the animal belonged which thus left its impress on the wet ground. Some of these exhibit tracks to which we shall have occasion to refer; others present traces of the footprints of the great reptile known as the Labyrinthodon or Cheirotherium, whose footmarks slightly resemble the impression made by the human hand ([Fig. 1]). Another well-known impression, which has been left upon the sandstone of Corncockle Moor, in Dumfriesshire, is supposed to be the impress of the foot of some great fossil Turtle.

We may be permitted to offer a short remark on this subject. The historian and antiquary may traverse the battle-fields of the Greeks and Romans, and search in vain for traces of those conquerors, whose armies ravaged the world. Time, which has overthrown the monuments of their victories, has also effaced the marks of their footsteps; and of the many millions of men whose invasions have spread desolation throughout Europe, not even a trace of a footprint is left. Those reptiles, on the other hand, which crawled thousands of ages ago on the surface of our planet when it was still in its infancy, have impressed on the soil indelible proofs of their existence. Hannibal and his legions, the barbarians and their savage hordes, have passed over the land without leaving a material mark of their passage; while the poor turtle, which dragged itself along the silent shores of the primitive seas, has bequeathed to learned posterity the image and impression of a part of its body. These imprints may be perceived as distinctly on the rocks, as the traces left on moist sand or in newly-fallen snow by some animal walking under our own eyes. What grave reflections should be awakened within us at the sight of these blocks of hardened earth, which thus carry back our thoughts to the early ages of the world! and how insignificant seem the discoveries of the archæologist who throws himself into ecstacies before some piece of Greek or Etruscan pottery, when compared with these veritable antiquities of the earth!

Fig. 2.—Impressions of rain-drops.

The palæontologist (from παλαιος “ancient,” οντος “being,” λογος “discourse”), who occupies himself with the study of animated beings which have lived on the earth, takes careful account also of the sort of moulds left by organised bodies in the fine sediment which has enveloped them after death. Many organic beings have left no trace of their existence in Nature, except their impressions, which we find perfectly preserved in the sandstone and limestone, in marl or clay, and in the coal-measures; and these moulds are sufficient to tell us the kind to which the living animals belonged. We shall, no doubt, astonish our readers when we tell them that there are blocks of sandstone with distinct impressions of drops of rain which had fallen upon sea-shores of the ancient world. The impressions of these rain-drops, made upon the sands, were preserved by desiccation; and these same sands, being transformed by subsequent hardening into solid and coherent sandstones, their impressions have been thus preserved to the present day. [Fig. 2] represents impressions of this kind upon the sandstone of Connecticut river in America, which have been reproduced from the block itself by photography. In a depression of the granitic rocks of Massachusetts and Connecticut, the red sandstone occupies an area of a hundred and fifty miles in length from north to south, and from five to ten miles in breadth. “On some shales of the finest texture,” says Sir Charles Lyell, “impressions of rain-drops may be seen, and casts of them in the argillaceous sandstones.” The same impressions occur in the recent red mud of the Bay of Fundy. In addition to these, the undulations left by the passage of the waters of the sea, over the sands of the primitive world, are preserved by the same physical agency. Traces of undulations of this kind have been found in the neighbourhood of Boulogne-sur-Mer, and elsewhere. Similar phenomena occur in a still more striking manner in some sandstone-quarries worked at Chalindrey (Haute-Marne). The strata there present traces of the same kind over a large area, and along with them impressions of the excrements of marine worms. One may almost imagine oneself to be standing on the sea-shore while the tide is ebbing.

Chemical and Nebular Hypotheses of the Globe.

Among the innumerable hypotheses which human ingenuity has framed to explain the phenomena which surround the globe, the two which have found most ready acceptance have been termed respectively the Chemical, and the Nebular or mechanical hypothesis. By the first the solid crust is supposed to have contained abundance of potassium, sodium, calcium, magnesium, and other metallic elements. The percolating waters, coming in contact with these substances, produce combinations resulting in the conversion of the metals into their oxides—potash, soda, lime, and magnesia—all of which enter largely into the composition of volcanic rocks. The second hypothesis involves the idea of an original incandescent mass of vapour, succeeded by a great and still existing central fire.

This idea of a great central fire is a very ancient hypothesis: admitted by Descartes, developed by Leibnitz, and advocated by Buffon, it is supposed to account for many phenomena otherwise inexplicable; and it is confirmed by a crowd of facts, and adopted, or at least not opposed, by the leading authorities of the age. Dr. Buckland makes it the basis of his Bridgewater treatise. Herschel, Hind, Murchison, Lyell, Phillips, and other leading English astronomers and geologists give a cautious adhesion to the doctrine. The following are some of the principal arguments adduced in support of the hypothesis, for, in the nature of the proofs it admits of, it can be no more.

When we descend into the interior of a mine, it is found that the temperature rises in an appreciable manner, and that it increases with the depth below the surface.

The high temperature of the waters in Artesian wells when these are very deep, testifies to a great heat of the interior of the earth.

The thermal waters which issue from the earth—of which the temperature sometimes rises to 100° Centigrade and upwards—as, for instance, the Geysers of Iceland—furnish another proof in support of the hypothesis.

Modern volcanoes are said to be a visible demonstration of the existence of central heat. The heated gases, the liquid lava, the flames which escape from their craters, all tend to prove sufficiently that the interior of the globe has a temperature prodigiously elevated as compared with that at its surface.

The disengagement of gases and burning vapours through the accidental fissures in the crust, which accompany earthquakes, still further tends to establish the existence of a great heat in the interior of the globe.

We have already said that the temperature of the globe increases about one degree for every sixty or seventy feet of depth beneath its surface. The correctness of this observation has been verified in a great number of instances—indeed, to the greatest depth to which man has penetrated, and been able to make use of the thermometer. Now, as we know exactly the length of the radius of the terrestrial sphere, it has been calculated from this progression of temperature, supposing it to be regular and uniform, that the centre of the globe ought to have at the present time a mean temperature of 195,000° Centigrade. No matter could preserve its solid state at this excessive temperature; it follows, then, that the centre of the globe, and all parts near the centre, must be in a permanent state of fluidity.

The works of Werner, of Hutton, of Leopold von Buch, of Humboldt, of Cordier, W. Hopkins, Buckland, and some other English philosophers, have reduced this hypothesis to a theory, on which has been based, to a considerable extent, the whole science of modern geology; although, properly speaking, and in the popular acceptation of the term, that science only deals with the solid crust of the earth.

The nebular theory thus embraces the whole solar system, and, by analogy, the universe. It assumes that the sun was originally a mass of incandescent matter, that vast body being brought into a state of evolution by the action of laws to which the Creator, in His divine wisdom, has subjected all matter. In consequence of its immense expansion and attenuation, the exterior zone of vapour, expanding beyond the sphere of attraction, is supposed to have been thrown off by centrifugal force. This zone of vapour, which may be supposed at one time to have resembled the rings of Saturn, would in time break up into several masses, and these masses coalescing into globes, would (by the greater power of attraction which they would assume as consolidated bodies) revolve round the sun, and, from mechanical considerations, would also revolve with a rotary motion on their own axes.

This doctrine is applied to all the planets, and assumes each to have been in a state of incandescent vapour, with a central incandescent nucleus. As the cooling went on, each of these bodies may be supposed to have thrown off similar masses of vapour, which, by the operation of the same laws, would assume the rotary state, and, as satellites, revolve round the parent planet. Such, in brief, was the grand conception of Laplace; and surely it detracts nothing from our notions of the omnipotence of the Creator that it initiates the creation step by step, and under the laws to which matter is subjected, rather than by the direct fiat of the Almighty. The hypothesis assumes that as the vaporous mass cooled by the radiation of heat into space, the particles of matter would approximate and solidify.

That the figure of the earth is such as a very large mass of matter in a state of fluidity would assume from a state of rotation, seems to be admitted, thus corroborating the speculations of Leibnitz, that the earth is to be looked on as a heated fluid globe, cooled, and still cooling at the surface, by radiation of its superfluous heat into space. Mr. W. Hopkins[7] has put forth some strong but simple reasons in support of a different theory; although he does not attempt to solve the problem, but leaves the reader to form his own conclusions. As far as we have been able to follow his reasoning we gather from it that:—

If the earth were a fluid mass cooled by radiation, the cooled parts would, by the laws of circulating fluids, descend towards the centre, and be replaced on the surface by matter at a higher temperature.

The consolidation of such a mass would, therefore, be accompanied by a struggle for superiority between pressure and temperature, both of which would be at their maximum at the centre of the mass.

At the surface, it would be a question of rapidity of cooling, by radiation, as compared with the internal condition—for comparing which relations we are without data; but on the result of which depends whether such a body would most rapidly solidify at the surface by radiation, or at the centre by pressure.

The effect of the first would be solidification at the surface, followed by condensation at the centre through pressure. There would thus be two masses, a spherical fluid nucleus, and a spherical shell or envelope, with a large zone of semi-fluid, pasty matter between, continually changing its temperature as its outer or inner surface became converted to the solid state.

If pressure, on the other hand, gained the victory, the centre would solidify before the circulation of the heated matter had ceased; and the solidifying process would proceed through a large portion of the globe, and even approach the surface before that would become solid. In other words, solidification would proceed from the centre until the diminishing power of pressure was balanced by radiation, when the gradual abstraction of heat would allow the particles to approximate and become solid.

The terrestrial sphere may thus be a solid indurated mass at the centre, with a solid stony crust at the surface, and a shifting viscous, but daily-decreasing, mass between the two; a supposition which the diminished and diminishing frequency and magnitude of volcanic and other eruptive convulsions seem to render not improbable.

It is not to be supposed that amongst the various hypotheses of which the cosmogony of the world has been the object, a literal acceptation of the scriptural account finds no defenders among men of science. “Why,” asks one of these writers,[8] after some scornful remarks upon the geologists and their science—“why an omnipotent Creator should have called into being a gaseous-granite nebulous world, only to have to cool it down again, consisting as it does of an endless variety of substances, should even have been supposed to be originally constituted of the matter of granite alone, for nothing else was provided by the theory, nobody can rationally explain. How the earth’s centre now could be liquid fire with its surface solid and cold and its seas not boiling caldrons, has never been attempted to be accounted for. How educated gentlemen, engaged in scientific investigations, ever came to accept such a monstrously stupid mass of absurdities as deductions of ‘science,’ and put them in comparison with the rational account of the creation given by Moses, is more difficult to understand than even this vague theory itself, which it is impossible to describe.

“Of the first creation of the chaotic world,” the same writer goes on to say, “or the material elements, before they were shaped into their present forms, we can scarce have the most vague conception. All our experience relates to their existing conditions. But knowing somewhat of the variety of the constituent elements and their distinct properties, by which they manifest their existence to us, we cannot conceive of their creation without presupposing a Divine wisdom, and—if I may say so, with all reverence, and only to suit our human notions—a Divine ingenuity,” and he follows for six days the operations as described by Moses, with a running comment. When light is created, the conception of the work becomes simpler to our minds. Its least manifestation would suffice at once to dispel darkness, and yet how marvellous is the light! In the second day’s work the firmament of heaven is opened; the expanse of the air between the heavens and the earth, dividing the waters above from the waters below, is the work recorded as performed. Not till the third day commence the first geological operations. The waters of the earth are gathered together into seas, and the dry land is made to appear. It is now that we can imagine that the formation of the primary strata commenced, while by some of the internal forces of matter the earth was elevated and stood above the waters.

Immediately the dry land is raised above and separated from the waters the fiat goes forth, “Let the earth bring forth grass, and herb and tree;” vegetable life begins to exist, and the world is first decorated with its beauteous flora, with all its exquisite variety of forms and brilliancy of colouring, with which not even Solomon in all his glory can compare. In like manner, on the sixth day the earth is commanded to bring forth land-animals—the living creature “after his kind,” cattle and creeping thing, and beast of the earth, “after his kind;” and last of all, but on the same day, man is created, and made the chief and monarch of God’s other living creatures—for that is “man’s place in Nature.” “Let us now see,” he continues, “how this history came to be discredited by the opposition of a falsely so-called ‘science’ of geology, that, while spared by our theologians, has since pulled itself to pieces. The first step in the false inductions geology made arose from the rash deduction, that the order in which the fossil remains of organic being were found deposited in the various strata necessarily determined the order of their creation; and the next error arose from blindly rushing to rash conclusions, and hasty generalisation from a very limited number of facts, and the most imperfect investigations. There were also (and, indeed, are still) some wild dogmatisms as to the time necessary to produce certain geologic formations; but the absurdities of science culminated when it adopted from Laplace the irrational and unintelligible theory of a natural origin for the world from a nebula of gaseous granite, intensely hot, and supposed to be gradually cooled while gyrating senselessly in space.”

In this paper the writer does not attempt to deal with the various phenomena of volcanoes, earthquakes, hot springs, and other matters which are usually considered as proofs of great internal heat. Mr. Evan Hopkins, C.E., F.G.S., is more precise if less eloquent. He shows that, in tropical countries, plains of gravel may in a day be converted into lagoons and marshes; that by the fall of an avalanche rivers have been blocked up, which, bursting their banks, have covered many square miles of fertile country with several feet of mud, sand, and gravel. “Two thousand four hundred years ago,” he says, “Nineveh flourished in all its grandeur, yet it is now buried in oblivion, and its site overwhelmed with sand. Look at old Tyre, once the queen of cities and mistress of the sea. She was in all her pride two thousand four hundred and forty years ago. We now see but a bare rock in the sea, on which fishermen spread their nets! A thousand years ago, according to Icelandic histories, Greenland was a fertile land in the south, and supported a large population. Iceland at that period was covered with forests of birch and fir, and the inhabitants cultivated barley and other grain. We may, therefore, conclude, with these facts before us, that there is no necessity to assign myriads of ages to terrestrial changes, as assumed by geologists, as they can be accounted for by means of alterations effected during a few thousand years, for the surface of the earth is ever changing.

“Grant geological speculators,” Mr. Hopkins continues, “a few millions of centuries, with a command over the agencies of Nature to be brought into operation when and how they please, and they think they can form a world with every variety of rock and vegetation, and even transform a worm into a man! Yet the wisest of our philosophers would be puzzled if called upon to explain why fluids become spheres, as dew-drops; why carbonate of lime acquires in solidifying from a liquid the figure of an obtuse rhomboihedron, silica of a six-sided prism; and why oxygen and hydrogen gases produce both fire and water. And what do they gain,” he proceeds to ask, “by carrying back the history of the world to these myriads of centuries? Do they, by the extension of the period to infinity, explain how the ‘Original’ materials were created? But,” he adds, “geologists are by no means agreed in their assumed geological periods! The so-called glacial period has been computed by some to be equal to about eighty-three thousand years, and by others at even as much as twelve hundred and eighty millions of years! Were we to ask for a demonstrative proof of any given deposit being more than four or five thousand years old, they could not give it. Where is Babylon, the glory of the kingdoms? Look at Thebes, and behold its colossal columns, statues, temples, obelisks, and palaces desolated; and yet those great cities flourished within the last three thousand years. Even Pompeii and Herculaneum were all but lost to history! What,” he asks after these brief allusions to the past—“what, as a matter of fact, have geologists discovered, as regards the great terrestrial changes, more than was known to Pythagoras and the ancient philosophers who taught, two thousand three hundred and fifty years ago, ‘that the surface of the earth was ever changing—solid land converted into sea, sea changed into dry land, marine shells lying far distant from the deep, valleys excavated by running water, and floods washing down hills into the sea?’”

In reference to the argument of the vast antiquity of the earth, founded on elevation of coasts at a given rate of upheaval, he adduces many facts to show that upheavals of equal extent have occurred almost within the memory of man. Two hundred and fifty years ago Sir Francis Drake, with his fleet, sailed into Albemarle Sound through Roanoke Outlet, which is now a sand-bank above the reach of the highest tides. Only seventy years ago it was navigable by vessels drawing twelve feet of water. The whole American coast, both on the Atlantic and Pacific, have undergone great changes within the last hundred years. The coast of South America has, in some places, been upheaved twenty feet in the last century; in others, a few hundred miles distant, it has been depressed to an equal extent. A transverse section from Rio Santa Cruz to the base of the Cordilleras, and another in the Rio Negro, in Patagonia, showed that the whole sedimentary series is of recent origin. Scattered over the whole at various heights above the sea, from thirteen hundred feet downwards, are found recent shells of littoral species of the neighbouring coast—denoting upheavals which might have been effected during the last three thousand years.

Coming nearer home, he shows that in 1538 the whole coast of Pozzuoli, near Naples, was raised twenty feet in a single night. Then, with regard to more compact crystalline or semi-crystalline rocks, no reliable opinion can be formed on mere inspection. Two blocks of marble may appear precisely alike, though formed at different periods. A crystal of carbonate of lime, formed in a few years, would be found quite perfect, and as compact as a crystal formed during many centuries. Nothing can be deduced from the process of petrifaction and crystallisation, unless they enclose relics of a known period. At San Filippo, a solid mass of limestone thirty feet thick has been formed in about twenty years. A hard stratum of travertine a foot thick is obtained, from these thermal springs, in the course of four months. Nor can geologists demonstrate that the Amiens deposits, in which the flint-implements occur, are more than three or four thousand years old.

The causes of these changes and mutations are referred by some persons to floods, or to pre-Adamite convulsions, whereas the cause is in constant operation; they are due to an invisible and subtle power which pervades the air, the ocean, and the rocks below—in which all are wrapped and permeated—which is universally present, namely, magnetism—a power always in operation, always in a state of activity and tension. It has an attractive power towards the surface of the earth, as well as a directive action from pole to pole. “It is, indeed,” he adds, emphatically, “the terrestrial gravitation. Magnetic needles freely suspended show its meridional or directive polar force, and that the force converges at two opposite parts, which are bounded by the Antarctic and Arctic circles.”

This polar force, like a stream, is constantly moving from pole to pole; and experiment proves that this movement is from the South Pole to the North. “Hence the various terrestrial substances, solids and fluids, through which this subtle and universal power permeates, are controlled, propelled, and modified over the entire surface of our globe, commencing at the south and dissolving at the north. Thus, all terrestrial matter moves towards the Arctic region, and finally disappears by dissolution and absorption, to be renewed again and again in the Antarctic Sea to the end of time.”

In order to prove that the north polar basin is the receptacle of the final dissolution of all terrestrial substances, Mr. Hopkins quotes the Gulf Stream. Bottles, tropical plants, and wrecks cast into the sea in the South Atlantic, are carried to Greenland in a comparatively short time. The great tidal waves commence at the fountain-head in the Antarctic circle, impinge against the south coast of Tierra del Fuego, New Zealand, and Tasmania, and are then propelled northward in a series of undulations. The South Atlantic stream, after doubling the Cape of Good Hope, moves towards the Guinea coast, bends towards the Caribbean Sea, producing the trade winds; again leaves Florida as the Gulf Stream, and washes the coasts of Greenland and Norway, and finally reaches the north polar basin.

Again the great polar force shows itself in the arrangement of the mineral structure below. In all the primary rocks in every quarter of the globe where they have been examined, its action is recognised in giving to the crystalline masses—granites and their laminated elongations—a polar grain and vertical cleavage. “Had it been possible to see our globe stripped of its sedimentary deposits and its oceanic covering, we should see it like a gigantic melon, with a uniform grain extending from pole to pole.” This structure appears to give polarity to earthquakes—thermal waters and earthquakes—which are all traceable in the direction of the polar grain or cleavage from north to south.

In England, for instance, thermal and saline springs are traceable from Bath, through Cheltenham, to Dudley. In Central France, mineral springs occur in lines, more or less, north and south. All the known salt-springs in South America occur in meridional bands. Springs of chloride of sodium in the Eastern Cordilleras stretch from Pinceima to the Llanoes de Meta, a distance of 200 miles. The most productive metalliferous deposits are found in meridional bands. The watery volcanoes in South America are generally situated along the lines of the meridional splits and the secondary eruptive pores on the transverse fractures. The sudden ruptures arising locally from increasing tension of the polar force, and the rapid expansion of the generated gases, produce a vibratory jar in the rocky structure below, which being propagated along the planes of the polar cleavage, gives rise to great superficial oscillations, and thus causes earthquakes and subterranean thunder for thousands of miles, from south to north.

In 1797, the district round the volcano of Tunguraqua in Quito, during one of the great meridional shocks, experienced an undulating movement, which lasted upwards of four minutes, and this was propagated to the shores of the Caribbean Sea.

All these movements demonstrated, according to Mr. Hopkins, that the land as well as the ocean moves from the south pole and north pole, and that the magnetic power has a tendency to proceed from pole to pole in a spiral path from south-east to north-west, a movement which produces an apparent change in the equinoxes, or the outer section of the plane of the ecliptic with the equator, a phenomenon known to astronomers as the precession of the equinoxes.

Such is a very brief summary of the arguments by which Mr. Evan Hopkins maintains the literal correctness of the Mosaic account of the creation, and attempts to show that all the facts discovered by geologists may have occurred in the ages included in the Mosaic chronology.

That the mysterious power of terrestrial magnetism can perform all that he claims for it, we can perhaps admit. But how does this explain the succession of Silurian, Old Red Sandstone, Carboniferous and other strata, up to the Tertiary deposits, with their fossils, each differing in character from those of the preceding series? That these were successive creations admits of no doubt, and while it is undeniable that the fiat of the Creator could readily produce all these phenomena, it may reasonably be asked if it is probable that all these myriads of organic beings, whose remains serve as records of their existence, were created only to be immediately destroyed.

Again, does not the author of the “Principles of Terrestrial Physics” prove too much? He admits that 3,000 years ago the climate of England was tropical: he does not deny that a subsequent period of intense cold intervened, 2,550 years ago. He admits historical records, and 2,350 years ago Pythagoras constructed his cosmography of the world, which has never been seriously impugned; and yet he has no suspicion that countries so near to his own had changed their climates first from tropical to glacial, and back again to a temperate zone. It is not reasonable to believe this parable.

The school of philosophy generally considered to be the most advanced in modern science has yet another view of cosmogony, of which we venture to give a brief outline. Space is infinite, says the exponent of this system,[9] for wherever in imagination we erect a boundary, we are compelled to think of space as existing beyond it. The starry heavens proclaim that it is not entirely void; but the question remains, are the vast regions which surround the stars, and across which light is propagated, absolutely empty? No. Modern science, while it rejects the notion of the luminiferous particles of the old philosophy, has cogent proofs of the existence of a luminiferous ether with definite mechanical properties. It is infinitely more attenuated, but more solid than gas. It resembles jelly rather than air, and if not co-extensive with space, it extends as far as the most distant star the telescope reveals to us; it is the vehicle of their light in fact; it takes up their molecular tremors and conveys them with inconceivable rapidity to our organs of vision. The splendour of the firmament at night is due to this vibration. If this ether has a boundary, masses of ponderable matter may exist beyond it, but they could emit no light. Dark suns may burn there, metals may be heated to fusion in invisible furnaces, planets may be molten amid intense darkness; for the loss of heat being simply the abstraction of molecular motion by the ether, where this medium is absent no cooling could take place.

This, however, does not concern us; as far as our knowledge of space extends, we are to conceive of it as the holder of this luminiferous ether, through which the fixed stars are interspersed at enormous distances apart. Associated with our planet we have a group of dark planetary masses revolving at various distances around it, each rotating on its axis; and, connected with them, their moons. Was space furnished at once, by the fiat of Omnipotence, with these burning orbs? The man of science should give no answer to this question: but he has better materials to guide him than anybody else, and can clearly show that the present state of things may be derivative. He can perhaps assign reasons which render it probable that it is derivative. The law of gravitation enunciated by Newton is, that every particle of matter in the universe attracts every other particle with a force which diminishes as the square of the distance increases. Under this law a stone falls to the ground, and heat is produced by the shock; meteors plunge into the atmosphere and become incandescent; showers of such doubtless fall incessantly upon the sun, and were it stopped in its orbit, the earth would rush towards the sun, developing heat in the collision (according to the calculations of MM. Joule, Mayer, Helmholtz, and Thomson), equal to the combustion of five thousand worlds of solid coal. In the attraction of gravity, therefore, acting upon this luminous matter, we have a source of heat more powerful than could be derived from any terrestrial combustion.

To the above conception of space we must add that of its being in a continual state of tremor. The sources of vibration are the ponderable masses of the universe. Our own planet is an aggregate of solids, liquids, and gases. On closer examination, these are found to be composed of still more elementary parts: the water of our rivers is formed by the union, in definite proportions, of two gases, oxygen and hydrogen. So, likewise, our chalk hills are formed by a combination of carbon, oxygen, and calcium; elements which in definite proportions form chalk. The flint found within that chalk is compounded of oxygen and silicon, and our ordinary clay is for the most part formed by a union of silicon, oxygen, and aluminum. By far the greater part of the earthy crust is thus compounded of a few elementary substances.

Such is Professor Tyndall’s view of the universe, rising incidentally out of his theory of heat, his main object being to elucidate his theory of heat and light.

Modifications of the Surface of the Globe.

As a consequence of the hypothesis of central heat, it is admitted that our planet has been agitated by a series of local disturbances; that is to say, by ruptures of its solid crust occurring at more or less distant intervals. These partial revolutions at the surface are supposed to have been produced, as we shall have occasion to explain, by upheavals or depressions of the solid crust, resulting from the fluidity of the central parts, and by the cooling down of the external crust of the globe.

Almost all bodies, in passing from a liquid to a solid state, are diminished in size in the process. In molten metals which resume the solid state by cooling, this diminution amounts to about a tenth of their volume; but the decrease in size is not equal throughout the whole mass. Hence, as a result of the solidification of the internal parts of the globe, the outer envelope would be too large; and would no longer fit the inner sphere, which had contracted in cooling. Cracks and hollows occur under such circumstances, even in small masses, and the effect of converting such a vast body as the earth from a liquid, or rather molten condition, to a solid state, may be imagined. As the interior became solid and concrete by cooling, furrows, corrugations, and depressions in the external crust of the globe would occur, causing great inequalities in its surface; producing, in short, what are now called chains of mountains.

At other times, in lieu of furrows and irregularities, the solid crust has become ruptured, producing fissures and fractures in the outer envelope, sometimes of immense extent. The liquid substances contained in the interior of the globe, with or without the action of the gases they enclose, escape through these openings; and, accumulating on the surface, become, on cooling and consolidating, mountains of various heights.

It would also happen, and always from the same cause, namely, from the internal contraction caused by the unequal cooling of the globe, that minor fissures would be formed in the earth’s crust; incandescent liquid matter would be afterwards injected into these fissures, filling them up, and forming in the rocky crust those long narrow lines of foreign substances which we call dykes.

Finally, it would occasionally happen, that in place of molten matter, such as granite or metalliferous compounds, escaping through these fractures and fissures in the globe, actual rivers of boiling water, abundantly charged with various mineral salts (that is to say, with silicates, and with calcareous and magnesian compounds), would also escape, since the elements of water would be abundant in the incandescent mass. Added to these the chemical and mechanical action of the atmosphere, of rain, rivers, and the sea, have all a tendency to destroy the hardest rocks. The mineral salts and other foreign substances, entering into combination with those already present in the waters of the sea, and separating at a subsequent period from these waters, would be thrown down, and thus constitute extensive deposits—that is to say, sedimentary formations. These became, on consolidation, the sedimentary rocks.

The furrows, corrugations, and fractures in the terrestrial crust, which so changed the aspect of the surface, and for the time displaced the sea-basins, would be followed by periods of calm. During these periods, the débris, torn by the movement of the waters from certain points of the land, would be transported to other parts of the globe by the oceanic currents. These accumulated heterogeneous materials, when deposited at a later period, would ultimately constitute formations—that is, transported or drifted rocks.

We have ventured to explain some of the theories by which it is sought to explain the cosmography of the world. But our readers must understand that all such speculations are, of necessity, purely hypothetical.

In conformity with the preceding considerations we shall divide the mineral substances of which the earth is composed into three general groups, under the following heads:—

1. Eruptive Rocks.—Crystalline, like the second, but formed at all geological periods by the irruption or intrusion of the liquid matter occupying the interior of our globe through all the pre-existing rocks.

2. Crystalline Rocks.—That portion of the terrestrial crust which was primarily liquid, owing to the heat of the globe, but which solidified at the period of its first cooling down; forming the masses known as Fundamental Gneiss, and Laurentian, &c.

3. Sedimentary Rocks.—Consisting of various mineral substances deposited by the water of the sea, such as silica, the carbonates of lime and magnesia, &c.

The mineral masses which constitute the sedimentary rocks form beds, or strata, having among themselves a constant order of superposition which indicates their relative age. The mineral structure of these beds, and the remains of the organised beings they contain, impress on them characters which enable us to distinguish each bed from that which precedes and follows it.

It does not follow, however, that all these beds are met with, regularly superimposed, over the whole surface of the globe; under such circumstances geology would be a very simple science, only requiring the use of the eyes. In consequence of the frequent eruptions of granite, porphyry, serpentine, trachyte, basalt, and lava, these beds are often broken, cut off, and replaced by others.

Denudation has been another fruitful source of change. Professor Ramsay[10] shows, in the “Memoirs of the Geological Survey,” that beds once existed above a great part of the Mendip Hills to the extent of at least 6,000 feet, which have been removed by the denuding agency of the sea; while in South Wales and the adjacent country, a series of Palaeozoic rocks, eleven thousand feet in thickness, has been removed by the action of water. In fact, every foot of the earth now forming the dry land is supposed to have been at one time under water—to have emerged, and to have been again submerged, and subjected to the destructive action of the ocean. At certain points a whole series of sedimentary deposits, and often several of them, have been removed by this cause, known by geologists as Denudation. The regular series of rock formations are, in fact, rarely found in unbroken order. It is only by combining the collected observations of the geologists of all countries, that we are enabled to arrange, according to their relative ages, the several beds composing the solid terrestrial crust as they occur in the following Table, which proceeds from the surface towards the centre, in descending order:—

ORDER OF STRATIFICATION.

Under these heads we propose to examine the successive transformations to which the earth has been subjected in reaching its present condition; in other words, we propose, both from an historical and descriptive point of view, to take a survey of the several epochs which can be distinguished in the gradual formation of the earth, corresponding with the formation of the great groups of rocks enumerated in the preceding table. We shall describe the living creatures which have peopled the earth at each of these epochs, and which have disappeared, from causes which we shall also endeavour to trace. We shall describe the plants belonging to each great phase in the history of the globe. At the same time, we shall not pass over entirely in silence the rocks deposited by the waters, or thrown up by eruption during these periods; we propose, also, to give a summary of the mineralogical characters and of the fossils characteristic of, or peculiar to each formation. What we propose, in short, is to give a history of the formation of the globe, and a description of the principal rocks which actually compose it; and to take also a rapid glance at the several generations of animals and plants which have succeeded and replaced each other on the earth, from the very beginning of organic life up to the time of man’s appearance.

[1] Dei corpi marini, &c., 1721.

[2] Sui crostaccei ed altri corpi marini che sè trovano sui monti, 1740.

[3] Consult Lyell’s “Principles of Geology” and the sixth edition of the “Elements,” with much new matter, for further information relative to the study of fossils during the last two centuries.

[4] “Ossements Fossiles” (4to), vol. i., p. 29.

[5] “Ossements Fossiles” (4to), vol. i., pp. 1, 2.

[6] “Ossements Fossiles,” vol. iv. (4to), p. 32.

[7] See Phil. Transactions, 1839-40-42; also, Quarterly Journal of the Geological Society, vol. viii., p. 56.

[8] “Fresh Springs of Truth.” R. Griffin and Co.

[9] Professor Tyndall in Fortnightly Review.

[10] “Memoirs of the Geological Survey of Great Britain,” vol. i., p. 297.

ERUPTIVE ROCKS.

Nothing is more difficult than to write a chronological history of the revolutions and changes to which the earth has been subjected during the ages which preceded the historic times. The phenomena which have concurred to fashion its enormous mass, and to give to it its present form and structure, are so numerous, so varied, and sometimes so nearly simultaneous in their action, that the records defy the powers of observation to separate them. The deposition of the sedimentary rocks has been subject to interruption during all ages of the world. Violent igneous eruptions have penetrated the sedimentary beds, elevating them in some places, depressing them in others, and in all cases disturbing their order of superposition, and ejecting masses of crystalline rocks from the incandescent centre to the surface. Amidst these perturbations, sometimes stretching over a vast extent of country, anything like a rigorous chronological record becomes impossible, for the phenomena are so continuous and complex that it is no longer possible to distinguish the fundamental from the accidental and secondary causes.

In order to render the subject somewhat clearer, the great facts relative to the progressive formation of the terrestrial globe are divided into epochs, during which the sedimentary rocks were formed in due order in the seas of the ancient world, the mud and sand in which were deposited day by day. Again, even where the line of demarcation is clearest between one formation and another, it must not be supposed there is any sharply defined line of separation between them. On the contrary, one system gradually merges into that which succeeds it. The rocks and fossils of the one gradually disappear, to be succeeded by those of the overlying series in the regular order of succession. The newly-made strata became the cemetery of the myriads of beings which lived and died in the bosom of the ocean. The rocks thus deposited were called Neptunian by the older geologists.

But while the seas of each epoch were thus building up, grain by grain, and bed by bed, the new formation out of the ruins of the older, other influences were at work, sometimes, to all appearance, impeding sometimes advancing, the great work. The Plutonic rocks—the igneous or eruptive rocks of modern geology, as we have seen above, were the great disturbing agents, and these disturbances occur in every age of the earth’s history. We shall have occasion to speak of these eruptive formations while describing the phenomena of the several epochs. But it is thought that the narrative will be made clearer and more instructive by grouping this class of phenomena into one chapter, which we place at the commencement, inasmuch as the constant reference to the eruptive rocks will thus be rendered more intelligible. To these are now added the section “Metamorphic Rocks,” from the fifth edition of the French work.

The rocks which issued from the centre of the earth in a state of fusion are found associated or interstratified with masses of every epoch, more especially with those of the more ancient strata. The formations which these rocks have originated possess great interest; first, because they enter into the composition of the terrestrial crust; secondly, because they have impressed on its surface, in the course of their eruption, some of the characteristics of its configuration and structure; finally, because, by their means, the metals which are the objects of human industry have been brought nearer to the surface. According to the order of their appearance, or as nearly so as can be ascertained, we shall class the eruptive rocks in two groups:—

I. The Volcanic Rocks, of comparatively recent origin, which have given rise to a succession of trachytes, basalts, and modern lavas. These, being of looser texture, are presumed to have cooled more rapidly than the Plutonic rocks, and at or near the surface.

II. The Plutonic Rocks, of older date, which are exemplified in the various kinds of granites, the syenites, the protogines, porphyries, &c. These differ from the volcanic rocks in their more compact crystalline structure, in the absence of tufa, as well as of pores and cavities; from which it is inferred that they were formed at considerable depths in the earth, and that they have cooled and crystallised slowly under great pressure.

Plutonic Eruptions.

The great eruptions of ancient granite are supposed to have occurred during the primary epoch, and chiefly in the carboniferous period. They present themselves sometimes in considerable masses, for the earth’s crust being still thin and permeable, it was prepared as it were for absorbing the granite masses. In consequence of its weak cohesion, the primitive crust of the globe would be rent and penetrated in all directions, as represented in the following section of Cape Wrath, in Sutherlandshire, in which the veins of granite ramify in a very irregular manner across the gneiss and hornblende-schist, there associated with it. ([Fig. 3].)

Fig. 3.—Veins of granite traversing the gneiss of Cape Wrath.

Granite, when it is sound, furnishes a fine building-stone, but we must not suppose that it deserves that character of extreme hardness with which the poets have gratuitously gifted it. Its granular texture renders it unfit for road-stone, where it gets crushed too quickly to dust. With his hammer the geologist easily shapes his specimens; and in the Russian War, at the bombardment of Bomarsund, the shot from our ships demonstrated that ramparts of granite could be as easily demolished as those constructed of limestone.

The component minerals of granite are felspar, quartz, and mica, in varying proportions; felspar being generally the predominant ingredient, and quartz more plentiful than mica—the whole being united into a confusedly granular or crystalline mass. Occasionally it passes insensibly from fine to coarse-grained granite, and the finer grained is even sometimes found embedded in the more coarsely granular variety: sometimes it assumes a porphyritic texture. Porphyritic granite is a variety of granite, the components of which—quartz, felspar, and mica—are set in a non-crystallised paste, uniting the mass in a manner which will be familiar to many of our readers who may have seen the granite of the Land’s End, in Cornwall. Alongside these orthoclase crystals, quartz is implanted, usually in grains of irregular shape, more rarely crystallised, and seldom in the form of perfect crystals. To these ingredients are added thin scales or small hexagonal plates and crystals of white, brown, black, or greenish-coloured mica. Finally, the name of quartziferous porphyry is reserved for those varieties which present crystals of quartz; the other varieties are simply called porphyritic granite. True porphyry presents a paste essentially composed of compact felspar, in which the crystals of orthoclase—that is, felspar with a potash base—are abundantly disseminated, and sometimes with great regularity.

Granite is supposed to have been “formed at considerable depths in the earth, where it has cooled and crystallised slowly under great pressure, where the contained gases could not expand.”[11] “The influence,” says Lyell, “of subterranean heat may extend downwards from the crater of every active volcano to a great depth below, perhaps several miles or leagues, and the effects which are produced deep in the bowels of the earth may, or rather must, be distinct; so that volcanic and plutonic rocks, each different in texture, and sometimes even in composition, may originate simultaneously, the one at the surface, the other far beneath it.” Other views, however, of its origin are not unknown to science: Professor Ramsay and some other geologists consider granite to be metamorphic. “For my own part,” says the Professor, “I believe that in one sense it is an igneous rock; that is to say, that it has been completely fused. But in another sense it is a metamorphic rock, partly because it is impossible in many cases to draw any definite line between gneiss and granite, for they pass into each other by insensible gradations; and granite frequently occupies the space that ought to be filled with gneiss, were it not that the gneiss has been entirely fused. I believe therefore that granite and its allies are simply the effect of the extreme of metamorphism, brought about by great heat with presence of water. In other words, when the metamorphism has been so great that all traces of the semi-crystalline laminated structure have disappeared, a more perfect crystallisation has taken place.”[12] It is obvious that the very result on which the Professor founds his theory, namely, the difficulty “in many cases,” of drawing a line between the granite and the gneiss, would be produced by the sudden injection of the fluid minerals into gneiss, composed of the same materials. Moreover, it is only in some cases that the difficulty exists; in many others the line of separation is definable enough.[13]

The granitic rock called Syenite, in which a part of the mica is replaced by hornblende or amphibole, has to all appearance been erupted to the surface subsequently to the granite, and very often alongside of it. Thus the two extremities of the Vosges, towards Belfort and Strasburg, are eminently syenitic, while the intermediate part, towards Colmar, is as markedly granitic. In the Lyonnais, the southern region is granitic; the northern region, from Arbresle, is in great part syenitic. Syenite also makes its appearance in the Limousin.

Syenite, into which rose-coloured felspar often enters, forms a beautiful rock, because the green or nearly black hornblende heightens, by contrast, the effect of its colour. This rock is a valuable adjunct for architectural ornament; it is that out of which the ancient Egyptians shaped many of their monumental columns, sphinxes, and sarcophagi; the most perfect type of it is found in Egypt, not far from the city of Syene, from which it derives its name. The obelisk of Luxor now in Paris, several of the Egyptian obelisks in Rome, and the celebrated sphinxes, of which copies may be seen in front of the Egyptian Court at the Crystal Palace, the pedestal of the statue of Peter the Great at St. Petersburg, and the facing of the sub-basement of the column in the Place Vendôme in Paris, are of this stone, of which there are quarries in the neighbourhood of Plancher-les-Mines in the Vosges.

Syenite disintegrates more readily than granite, and it contains indurated nodular concretions, which often remain in the form of large spherical balls, in the midst of the débris resulting from disintegration of the mass. It remains to be added that syenitic masses are often very variable as regards their composition; the hornblende is sometimes wanting, in which case we can only recognise an ancient granite. In other instances the hornblende predominates to such a degree, that a large or small-grained diorite, or greenstone, results. The geologist should be prepared to observe these transitions, which are apt to lead him into error if passed over without being noticed.

Protogine is a talcose granite, composed of felspar, quartz, and talc or chlorite, or decomposed mica, which take the place of the usual mica. Excessively variable in its texture, protogine passes from the most perfect granitic aspect to that of a porphyry, in such a manner as to present continual subjects of uncertainty, rendering it very difficult to determine its geological age. Nevertheless, it is supposed to have come to the surface before and during the coal-period; in short, at Creusot, protogine covers the coal-fields so completely, that it is necessary to sink the pits through the protogine, in order to penetrate to the coal, and the rock has so manifestly acted on the coal-measure strata, as to have contorted and metamorphosed them. Something analogous to this manifests itself near Mont Blanc, where the colossal mass which predominates in that chain, and the peaks which belong to it, consist of protogine. But as no such action can be perceived in the overlying rocks of the Triassic period, it may be assumed that at the time of the deposition of the New Red Sandstone the protoginous eruptions had ceased.

It is necessary to add, however, that if the protogine rises in such bold pinnacles round Mont Blanc, the circumstance only applies to the more elevated parts of the mountain, and is influenced by the excessive rigour of the seasons, which demolishes and continually wears away all the parts of the rock which have been decomposed by atmospheric agency. Where protogine occurs in milder climates—around Creusot, and at Pierre-sur-Autre, in the Forez chain, for instance—the mountains show none of the scarped and bristling peaks exhibited in the chain of Mont Blanc. Only single isolated masses occasionally form rocking-stones, so called because, resting with a convex base upon a pedestal also convex, but in a contrary way, it is easy to move these naturally balanced blocks, although from their vast size it would require very considerable force to displace them. This tendency to fashion themselves into rounded or ellipsoidal forms belongs, also, to other granitic rocks, and even to some of the variegated sandstones. The rocking-stones have often given rise to legends and popular myths.

The great eruptions of granite, protogine, and porphyry took place, according to M. Fournet, during the carboniferous period, for porphyritic pebbles are found in the conglomerates of the Coal-measure period. “The granite of Dartmoor, in Devonshire,” says Lyell,[14] “was formerly supposed to be one of the most ancient of the plutonic rocks, but it is now ascertained to be posterior in date to the culm-measures of that county, which from their position, and as containing true coal-plants, are regarded by Professor Sedgwick and Sir R. Murchison as members of the true Carboniferous series. This granite, like the syenitic granite of Christiana, has broken through the stratified formations without much changing their strike. Hence, on the north-west side of Dartmoor, the successive members of the Culm-measures abut against the granite, and become metamorphic as they approach. The granite of Cornwall is probably of the same date, and therefore as modern as the Carboniferous strata, if not newer.”

The ancient granites show themselves in France in the Vosges, in Auvergne, at Espinouse in Languedoc, at Plan-de-la-Tour in Provence, in the chain of the Cévennes, at Mont Pilat near Lyons, and in the southern part of the Lyonnaise chain. They rarely impart boldness or grandeur to the landscape, as might be expected from their crystallised texture and hardness; for having been exposed to the effects of atmospheric changes from the earliest times of the earth’s consolidation, the rocks have become greatly worn away and rounded in the outlines of their masses. It is only when recent dislocations have broken them up that they assume a picturesque character.

The Christiania granite alluded to above was at one time thought to have belonged to the Silurian period. But, in 1813, Von Buch announced that the strata in question consisted of limestones containing orthoceratites and trilobites; the shales and limestone being only penetrated by granite-veins, and altered for a considerable distance from the point of contact.[15] The same granite is found to penetrate the ancient gneiss of the country on which the fossiliferous beds rest—unconformably, as the geologists say; that is, they rest on the edges of the gneiss, from which other stratified deposits had been washed away, leaving the gneiss denuded before the sedimentary beds were deposited. “Between the origin, therefore, of the gneiss and the granite,”[16] says Lyell, “there intervened, first, the period when the strata of gneiss were denuded; secondly, the period of the deposition of the Silurian deposits. Yet the granite produced after this long interval is often so intimately blended with the ancient gneiss at the point of the junction, that it is impossible to draw any other than an arbitrary line of separation between them; and where this is not the case, tortuous veins of granite pass freely through gneiss, ending sometimes in threads, as if the older rock had offered no resistance to their passage.” From this example Sir Charles concludes that it is impossible to conjecture whether certain granites, which send veins into gneiss and other metamorphic rocks, have been so injected while the gneiss was scarcely solidified, or at some time during the Secondary or Tertiary period. As it is, no single mass of granite can be pointed out more ancient than the oldest known fossiliferous deposits; no Lower Cambrian stratum is known to rest immediately on granite; no pebbles of granite are found in the conglomerates of the Lower Cambrian. On the contrary, granite is usually found, as in the case of Dartmoor, in immediate contact with primary formations, with every sign of elevation subsequent to their deposition. Porphyritic pebbles are found in the Coal-measures; porpyhries continue during the Triassic period; since, in some parts of Germany, veins of porphyry are found traversing the New Red Sandstone, or grès bigarré of French geologists. Syenites have especially reacted upon the Silurian deposits and other old sedimentary rocks, up to those of the Lower Carboniferous period.

The term porphyry is usually applied to a rock with a paste or base of compact felspar, in which felspathic crystals of various sizes assume their natural form. The variety of their mineralogical characters, the admirable polish which can be given to them, and which renders them eminently useful for ornamentation, give to the porphyries an artistic and industrial importance, which would be greatly enhanced if the difficulty of working such a hard material did not render the price so high.

The porphyries possess various degrees of hardness and compactness. When a fine dark-red colour—which contrasts well with the white of the felspar—is combined with hardness, a magnificent stone is the result, susceptible of taking a polish, and fit for any kind of ornamental work; for the decoration of buildings, for the construction of vases, columns, &c. The red Egyptian porphyry, called Rosso antico, was particularly sought after by the ancients, who made sepulchres, baths, and obelisks of it. The grandest known mass of this kind of porphyry is the Obelisk of Sextus V. at Rome. In the Museum of the Louvre, in Paris, some magnificent basins and statues, made of the same stone, may also be seen.

In spite of its compact texture porphyry disintegrates, like other rocks, when exposed to air and water. One of the sphinxes transported from Egypt to Paris, being accidentally placed under a gutter of the Louvre, soon began to exhibit signs of exfoliation, notwithstanding it had remained sound for ages under the climate of Egypt. In this country, and even in France, where the climate is much drier, the porphyries frequently decompose so as to become scarcely recognisable. They crop out in various parts of France, but are only abundant in the north-eastern part of the central plateau, and in some parts of the south. They form mountains of a conical form, presenting, nearly always, considerable depressions on their flanks. In the Vosges they attain a height of from three to four thousand feet.

The Serpentine rocks are a sort of compact talc, which owe their soapy texture and greasy feel to silicate of magnesia. Their softness permits of their being turned in a lathe and fashioned into vessels of various forms. Even stoves are constructed of this substance, which bears heat well. The serpentine quarried on the banks of Lake Como, which bears the name of pierre ollaire, or pot-stone, is excellently adapted for this purpose. Serpentine shows itself in the Vosges, in the Limousin, in the Lyonnais, and in the Var; it occupies an immense tract in the Alps, as well as in the Apennines. Mona marble is an example of serpentine; and the Lizard Point, Cornwall, is a mass of it. A portion of the stratified rocks of Tuscany, and also those of the Island of Elba, have been upheaved and overturned by eruptions of it.

As for the British Islands, plutonic rocks are extensively developed in Scotland, where the Cambrian and Silurian rocks, often of gneissic character—associated here and there with great bosses of granite and syenite—form by far the greater part of the region known as the Highlands. In the Isle of Arran a circular mass of coarse-grained granite protrudes through the schists of the northern part of the island; while, in the southern part, a finer-grained granite and veins of porphyry and coarse-grained granite have broken through the stratified rocks.[17] In Devonshire and Cornwall there are four great bosses of granite; in the southern parts of Cornwall the mineral axis is defined by a line drawn through the centre of the several bosses from south-west to north-east; but in the north of Cornwall, and extending into Devonshire, it strikes nearly east and west. The great granite mass in Cornwall lies on the moors north of St. Austell, and indicates the existence of more than one disturbing force. “There was an elevating force,” says Professor Sedgwick,[18] “protruding from the St. Austell granite; and, if I interpret the phenomena correctly, there was a contemporaneous elevating force acting from the south; and between these two forces, the beds, now spread over the surface from the St. Austell granite to the Dodman and Narehead, were broken, contorted, and placed in their present disturbed position. Some great disturbing forces,” he observes, “have modified the symmetry of this part of Cornwall, affecting,” he believes, “the whole transverse section of the country from the headlands near Fowey to those south of Padstow.” This great granite-axis was upheaved in a line commencing at the west end of Cornwall, rising through the slate-rocks of the older Devonian group, continuing in association with them as far as the boss north of St. Austell, producing much confusion in the stratified masses; the granite-mass between St. Clear and Camelford rose between the deposition of the Petherwin and that of the Plymouth group; lastly, the Dartmoor granite rose, partially moving the adjacent slates in such a manner that its north end abuts against and tilts up the base of the Culm-trough, mineralising the great Culm-limestone, while on the south it does the same to the base of the Plymouth slates. These facts prove that the granite of Dartmoor, which was formerly thought to be the most ancient of the Plutonic rocks, is of a date subsequent to the Culm-measures of Devonshire, which are now regarded as forming part of the true carboniferous series.

Volcanic Rocks.

Considered as a whole, the volcanic rocks may be grouped into three distinct formations, which we shall notice in the following order, which is that of their relative antiquity, namely:—1. Trachytic; 2. Basaltic; 3. Volcanic or Lava formations.

Fig. 4.—A peak of the Cantal chain.

Trachytic Formations.

Trachyte (derived from τραχυς, rough), having a coarse, cellular appearance, and a rough and gritty feel, belongs to the class of volcanic rocks. The eruptions of trachyte seem to have commenced towards the middle of the Tertiary period, and to have continued up to its close. The trachytes present considerable analogy in their composition to the felspathic porphyries, but their mineralogical characters are different. Their texture is porous; they form a white, grey, black, sometimes yellowish matrix, in which, as a rule, felspar predominates, together with disseminated crystals of felspar, some hornblende or augite, and dark-coloured mica. In its external appearance trachyte is very variable. It forms the three most elevated mountain ranges of Central France; the groups of Cantal and Mont Dore, and the chain of the Velay (Puy-de-Dôme).[19]

I.—Peak of Sancy in the Mont Dore group, Auvergne.

The igneous group of Cantal may be described as a series of lofty summits, ranged around a large cavity, which was at one period probably a volcanic crater, the circular base of which occupies an area of nearly fifteen leagues in diameter. The strictly trachytic portion of the group rises in the centre, and is composed of high mountains, throwing off spurs, which gradually decrease in height, and terminate in plateaux more or less inclined. These central mountains attain a height varying between 4,500 and 5,500 feet above the level of the sea. A scaly or schistose variety of trachyte, called phonolite, or clinkstone (from the ringing metallic sound it emits when struck with the hammer), with an unusual proportion of felspar, or, according to Gmelin, composed of felspar and zeolite, forms the steep trachytic escarpments at the centre, which enclose the principal valleys; their abrupt peaks giving a remarkably picturesque appearance to the landscape. In the engraving on p. 40 ([Fig. 4]) the slaty, laminated character of the clinkstone is well represented in one of the phonolitic peaks of the Cantal group. The group at Mont Dore consists of seven or eight rocky summits, occupying a circuit of about five leagues in diameter. The massive trachytic rock, of which this mountainous mass is chiefly formed, has an average thickness of 1,200 to 2,600 feet; comprehending over that range prodigious layers of scoriæ, pumiceous conglomerates, and detritus, interstratified with beds of trachyte and basalt, bearing the signs of an igneous origin, tufa forming the base; and between them occur layers of lignite, or imperfectly mineralised woody fibre, the whole being superimposed on a primitive plateau of about 3,250 feet in height. Scored and furrowed out by deep valleys, the viscous mass was gradually upheaved, until in the needle-like Pic de Sancy ([Plate I.]), a pyramidal rock of porphyritic trachyte, which is the loftiest point of Mont Dore, it attains the height of 6,258 feet. The Pic de Sancy, represented on page 40 ([Fig. 4]), gives an excellent idea of the general appearance of the trachytic mountains of Mont Dore.

Upon the same plateau with Mont Dore, and about seven miles north of its last slopes, the trachytic formation is repeated in four rounded domes—those of Puy-de-Dôme, Sarcouï, Clierzou, and Le Grand Suchet. The Puy-de-Dôme, one of the most remarkable volcanic domes in Auvergne, presents another fine and very striking example of an eruptive trachytic rock. The rock here assumes a peculiar mineral character, which has caused the name of domite to be given to it.

The chain of the Velay forms a zone, composed of independent plateaux and peaks, which forms upon the horizon a long and strangely intersected ridge. The bareness of the mountains, their forms—pointed or rounded, sometimes terminating in scarped plateaux—give to the whole landscape an appearance at once picturesque and characteristic. The peak of Le Mezen, which rises 5,820 feet above the sea, forms the culminating point of the chain. The phonolites of which it consists have been erupted from fissures which present themselves at a great number of points, ranging from north-north-west to south-south-east.

On the banks of the Rhine and in Hungary the trachytic formation presents itself in features identical with those which indicate it in France. In America it is principally represented by some immense cones, superposed in the chain of the Andes; the colossal Chimborazo being one of those trachytic cones.

II.—Mountain and basaltic crater of La Coupe d’Ayzac, in the Vivarais.

Fig. 5.—Theoretical view of a basaltic plateau.

Basaltic Formations.

Basaltic eruptions seem to have occurred during the Secondary and Tertiary periods. Basalt, according to Dr. Daubeny,[20] in its more strict sense, “is composed of an intimate mixture of augite with a zeolitic mineral, which appears to have been formed out of labradorite (felspar of Labrador), by the addition of water—the presence of water being in all zeolites the cause of that bubbling-up under the blow-pipe to which they owe their appellation.” M. Delesse and other mineralogists are of opinion that the idea of augite being the prevailing mineral in basalt, must be abandoned; and that although its presence gives the rock its distinctive character, as compared with trachytic and most other trap rocks, still the principal element in their composition is felspar. Basalt, a lava consisting essentially of augite, labradorite (or nepheline) and magnetic iron-ore is the rock which predominates in this formation. It contains a smaller quantity of silica than the trachyte, and a larger proportion of lime and magnesia. Hence, independent of the iron in its composition, it is heavier in proportion, as it contains more or less silica. Some varieties of basalt contain very large quantities of olivine, a mineral of an olive-green colour, with a chemical composition differing but slightly from serpentine. Both basalts and trachyte contain more soda and less silica in their composition than granites; some of the basalts are highly fusible, the alkaline matter and lime in their composition acting as a flux to the silica. There are examples of basalt existing in well-defined flows, which still adhere to craters visible at the present day, and with regard to the igneous origin of which there can be no doubt. One of the most striking examples of a basaltic cone is furnished by the mountain or crater of La Coupe d’Ayzac, in the Vivarais, in the south of France. [Plate II.], on the opposite page, gives an accurate representation of this curious basaltic flow. The remnants of the stream of liquefied basalt which once flowed down the flank of the hill may still be seen adhering in vast masses to the granite rocks on both sides of a narrow valley where the river Volant has cut across the lava and left a pavement or causeway, forming an assemblage of upright prismatic columns, fitted together with geometrical symmetry; the whole resting on a base of gneiss. Basaltic eruptions sometimes form a plateau, as represented in [Fig. 5], where the process of formation is shown theoretically and in a manner which renders further explanation unnecessary. Many of these basaltic table-lands form plateaux of very considerable extent and thickness; others form fragments of the same, more or less dislocated; others, again, present themselves in isolated knolls, far removed from similar formations. In short, basaltic rocks present themselves in veins or dykes, more or less, in most countries, of which Central France and the banks of the Rhine offer many striking examples. These veins present very evident proofs that the matter has been introduced from below, and in a manner which could only result from injection from the interior to the exterior of the earth. Such are the proofs presented by the basaltic veins of Villeneuve-de-Berg, which terminate in slender filaments, sometimes bifurcated, which gradually lose themselves in the rock which they traverse. In several parts of the north of Ireland, chalk-formations with flints are traversed by basaltic dykes, the chalk being converted into granular marble near the basalt, the change sometimes extending eight or ten feet from the wall of the dyke, and being greatest near the surface of contact. In the Island of Rathlin, the walls of basalt traverse the chalk in three veins or dykes; the central one a foot thick, that on the right twenty feet, and on the left thirty-three feet thick, and all, according to Buckland and Conybeare, within the breadth of ninety feet.

Fig. 6.—Basalt in prismatic columns.

Fig. 7.—Basaltic Causeway, on the banks of the river Volant, in the Ardèche.

One of the most striking characteristics of basalt is the prismatic and columnar structure which it often assumes; the lava being homogeneous and of very fine grain, the laws which determine the direction of the fissures or divisional planes consolidated from a molten to a solid state, become here very manifest—these are always at right angles to the surfaces of the rock through which the heat of the fused mass escaped. The basaltic rocks have been at all times remarkable for this picturesque arrangement of their parts. They usually present columns of regular prisms, having generally six, often five, and sometimes four, seven, or even three sides, whose disposition is always perpendicular to the cooling surfaces. These are often divided transversely, as in [Fig. 6], at nearly equal distances, like the joints of a wall, composed of regularly arranged, equal-sided pieces adhering together, and frequently extending over a more or less considerable space. The name of Giant’s Causeway has been given, from time immemorial, to these curious columnar structures of basalt. In France, in the Vivarais and in the Velay, there are many such basaltic causeways. That of which [Fig. 7] is a sketch lies on the banks of the river Volant, where it flows into the Ardèche. Ireland has always been celebrated for its Giant’s Causeway, which extends over the whole of the northern part of Antrim, covering all the pre-existing strata of Chalk, Greensand, and Permian formations; the prismatic columns extend for miles along the cliffs, projecting into the sea at the point specially designated the Giant’s Causeway.

These columnar formations vary considerably in length and diameter. McCulloch mentions some in Skye, which “are about four hundred feet high; others in Morven not exceeding an inch (vol. ii. p. 137). In diameter those of Ailsa Craig measure nine feet, and those of Morven an inch or less.” Fingal’s Cave, in the Isle of Staffa, is renowned among basaltic rocks, although it was scarcely known on the mainland a century ago, when Sir Joseph Banks heard of it accidentally, and was the first to visit and describe it. Fingal’s Cave has been hollowed out, by the sea, through a gallery of immense prismatic columns of trap, which are continually beaten by the waves. The columns are usually upright, but sometimes they are curved and slightly inclined. [Fig. 8] is a view of the basaltic grotto of Staffa.

Fig. 8.—Basaltic cavern of Staffa—exterior.

Grottoes are sometimes formed by basaltic eruptions on land, followed by their separation into regular columns. The Grotto of Cheeses, at Bertrich-Baden, between Trèves and Coblentz, is a remarkable example of this kind, being so called because its columns are formed of round, and usually flattened, stones placed one above the other in such a manner as to resemble a pile of cheeses.

III.—Extinct volcanoes forming the Puy-de-Dôme Chain.

If we consider that in basalt-flows the lower part is compact, and often divided into prismatic columns, while the upper part is porous, cellular, scoriaceous, and irregularly divided—that the points of separation on which they rest are small beds presenting fragments of the porous stony concretions known under the name of Lapilli—that the lower portions of these masses present a multitude of points which penetrate the rocks on which they repose, thereby denoting that some fluid matter had moulded itself into its crevices—that the neighbouring rocks are often calcined to a considerable thickness, and the included vegetable remains carbonised—no doubt can exist as to the igneous origin of basaltic rocks. When it reached the surface through certain openings, the fluid basalt spread itself, flowing, as it were, over the horizontal surface of the ground; for if it had flowed upon inclined surfaces it could not have preserved the uniform surface and constant thickness which it generally exhibits.

Volcanic or Lava Formations.

The lava formations comprehend both extinct and active volcanoes. “The term,” says Lyell, “has a somewhat vague signification, having been applied to all melted matter observed to flow in streams from volcanic vents. When this matter consolidates in the open air, the upper part is usually scoriaceous, and the mass becomes more and more stony as we descend, or in proportion as it has consolidated more slowly and under greater pressure.”[21]

The formation of extinct volcanoes is represented in France by the volcanoes situated in the ancient provinces of Auvergne, Velay, and the Vivarais, but principally by nearly seventy volcanic cones of various sizes and of the height of from 500 to 1,000 feet, composed of loose scoriæ, lava, and pozzuolana, arranged upon a granitic table-land, about twelve miles wide, which overlooks the town of Clermont-Ferrand, and which seem to have been produced along a longitudinal fracture in the earth’s crust, running in a direction from north to south. It is a range of volcanic hills, the “chain of Puys” nearly twenty miles in length, by two in breadth. By its cellular and porous structure, which is also granular and crystalline, the felspathic or pyroxenic lava which flowed from these volcanoes is readily distinguishable from the analogous lavas which belong to the basaltic or trachytic formations. Their surface is irregular, and bristles with asperities, formed by heaped-up angular blocks.

The volcanoes of the chain of Puys, represented on opposite page ([Pl. III.]) are so perfectly preserved, their lava is so frequently superposed on sheets of basalt, and presents a composition and texture so distinct, that there is no difficulty in establishing the fact that they are posterior to the basaltic formation, and of very recent age. Nevertheless, they do not appear to belong to the historic ages, for no tradition attests their eruption. Lyell places these eruptions in the Lower Miocene period, and their greatest activity in the Upper Miocene and Pliocene eras. “Extinct quadrupeds of those eras,” he says, “belonging to the genera mastodon, rhinoceros, and others, were buried in ashes and beds of alluvial sand and gravel, which owe their preservation to overspreading sheets of lava.”[22]

Fig. 9.—Section of a volcano in action.

All volcanic phenomena can be explained by the theory we have already indicated, of fractures in the solid crust of the globe resulting from its cooling. The various phenomena which existing volcanoes present to us are, as Humboldt has said, “the result of every action exercised by the interior of a planet on its external crust.”[23] We designate as volcanoes all conduits which establish a permanent communication between the interior of the earth and its surface—a conduit which gives passage at intervals to eruptions of lava, and in [Fig. 9] we have represented, in an ideal section, the geological mode of action of volcanic eruptions. The volcanoes on the surface of the globe, known to be in an occasional state of activity, number about three hundred, and these may be divided into two classes: the isolated or central, and the linear or those volcanoes which belong to a series.[24]

The first are active volcanoes, around which there may be established many secondary active mouths of eruption, always in connection with some principal crater. The second are disposed like the chimneys of furnaces, along fissures extending over considerable distances. Twenty, thirty, and even a greater number of volcanic cones may rise above one such rent in the earth’s crust, the direction of which will be indicated by their linear course. The Peak of Teneriffe is an instance of a central volcano; the long rampart-like chain of the Andes, presents, from the south of Chili to the north-west coast of America, one of the grandest instances of a continental volcanic chain; the remarkable range of volcanoes in the province of Quito belong to the latter class. Darwin relates that on the 19th of March, 1835, the attention of a sentry was called to something like a large star which gradually increased in size till about three o’clock, when it presented a very magnificent spectacle. “By the aid of a glass, dark objects, in constant succession, were seen in the midst of a great glare of red light, to be thrown up and to fall down. The light was sufficient to cast on the water a long bright reflection—it was the volcano of Osorno in action.” Mr. Darwin was afterwards assured that Aconcagua, in Chili, 480 miles to the north, was in action on the same night, and that the great eruption of Coseguina (2,700 miles north of Aconcagua), accompanied by an earthquake felt over 1,000 miles, also occurred within six hours of this same time; and yet Coseguina had been dormant for six-and-twenty years, and Aconcagua most rarely shows any signs of action.[25] It is also stated by Professor Dove that in the year 1835 the ashes discharged from the mountain of Coseguina were carried 700 miles, and that the roaring noise of the eruption was heard at San Salvador, a distance of 1,000 miles.

In the sea the series of volcanoes show themselves in groups of islands disposed in longitudinal series.

Among these may be ranged the volcanic series of Sunda, which, according to the accounts of the matter ejected and the violence of the eruptions, seem to be among the most remarkable on the globe; the series of the Moluccas and of the Philippines; those of Japan; of the Marianne Islands; of Chili; of the double series of volcanic summits near Quito, those of the Antilles, Guatemala, and Mexico.

Among the central, or isolated volcanoes, we may class those of the Lipari Islands, which have Stromboli, in permanent activity, for their centre; Etna, Vesuvius, the volcanoes of the Azores, of the Canaries, of the Cape de Verde, of the Galapagos Islands, the Sandwich Islands, the Marquesas, the Society Islands, the Friendly Islands, Bourbon, and, finally, Ararat.

Fig. 10.—Existing crater of Vesuvius.

The mouths of volcanic chimneys are, almost always, situated near the summit of a more or less isolated conical mountain; they usually consist of an opening in the form of a funnel, which is called the crater, and which descends into the interior of the volcanic chimney. But in the course of ages the crater becomes extended and enlarged, until, in some of the older volcanoes, it has attained almost incredible dimensions. In 1822 the crater of Vesuvius was 2,000 feet deep, and of a very considerable circumference. The crater of Kilauea, in the Sandwich Islands group, is an immense chasm 1,000 feet deep, with an outer circle no less than from two to three miles in diameter, in which lava is usually seen, Mr. Dana tells us, to boil up at the bottom of a lake, the level of which varies continually according to the active or quiescent state of the volcano. The cone which supports these craters, and which is designated the cone of ejection, is composed for the most part of lava or scoriæ, the products of eruption. Many volcanoes consist only of a cone of scoriæ. Such is that of Barren Isle, in the Bay of Bengal. Others, on the contrary, present a very small cone, notwithstanding the considerable height of the volcanic chain. As an example we may mention the new crater of Vesuvius, which was produced in 1829 within the former crater ([Fig. 10]).

Fig. 11.—Fissures near Locarno.

The frequency and intensity of the eruptions bear no relation to the dimensions of the volcanic mountain. The eruption of a volcano is usually announced by a subterranean noise, accompanied by shocks, quivering of the ground, and sometimes by actual earthquakes. The noise, which usually proceeds from a great depth, makes itself heard, sometimes over a great extent of country, and resembles a well-sustained fire of artillery, accompanied by the rattle of musketry. Sometimes it is like the heavy rolling of subterranean thunder. Fissures are frequently produced during the eruptions, extending over a considerable radius, as represented in the woodcut on page 57 of the fissures of Locarno ([Fig. 11]), where they present a singular appearance; the clefts radiating from a centre in all directions, not unlike the starred fracture in a cracked pane of glass. The eruption begins with a strong shock, which shakes the whole interior of the mountain; masses of heated vapour and fluids begin to ascend, revealing themselves in some cases by the melting of the snow upon the flanks of the cone of ejection; while simultaneously with the final shock, which overcomes the last resistance opposed by the solid crust of the ground, a considerable body of gas, and more especially of steam, escapes from the mouth of the crater.

The steam, it is important to remark, is essentially the cause of the terrible mechanical effects which accompany volcanic eruptions. Granitic, porphyritic, trachytic, and sometimes even basaltic matters, have reached the surface without producing any of those violent explosions or ejections of rocks and stones which accompany modern volcanic eruptions; the older granites, porphyries, trachytes, and basalts were discharged without violence, because steam did not accompany those melted rocks—a sufficient proof of the comparative calm which attended the ancient as compared with modern eruptions. Well established by scientific observations, this is a fact which enables us to explain the cause of the tremendous mechanical effects attending modern volcanic eruptions, contrasted with the more tranquil eruptions of earlier times.

During the first moments of a volcanic eruption, the accumulated masses of stones and ashes, which fill the crater, are shot up into the sky by the suddenly and powerfully developed elasticity of the steam. This steam, which has been disengaged by the heat of the fluid lava, assumes the form of great rounded bubbles, which are evolved into the air to a great height above the crater, where they expand as they rise, in clouds of dazzling whiteness, assuming that appearance which Pliny the Younger compared to a stone pine rising over Vesuvius. The masses of clouds finally condense and follow the direction of the wind.

These volcanic clouds are grey or black, according to the quantity of ashes, that is, of pulverulent matter or dust, mixed with watery vapour, which they convey. In some eruptions it has been observed that these clouds, on descending to the surface of the soil, spread around an odour of hydrochloric or sulphuric acid, and traces of both these acids are found in the rain which proceeds from the condensation of these clouds.

The fleecy clouds of vapour which issue from the volcanoes are streaked with lightning, followed by continuous peals of thunder; in condensing, they discharge disastrous showers, which sweep the sides of the mountain. Many eruptions, known as mud volcanoes, and watery volcanoes, are nothing more than these heavy rains, carrying down with them showers of ashes, stones, and scoriæ, more or less mixed with water.

Passing on to the phenomena of which the crater is the scene at the time of an eruption, it is stated that at first there is an incessant rise and fall of the lava which fills the interior of the crater. This double movement is often interrupted by violent explosions of gas. The crater of Kilauea, in the Island of Hawaii, contains a lake of molten matter 1,600 feet broad, which is subject to such a double movement of elevation and depression. Each of the vaporous bubbles as it issues from the crater presses the molten lava upwards, till it rises and bursts with great force at the surface. A portion of the lava, half-cooled and reduced to scoriæ, is thus projected upwards, and the several fragments are hurled violently in all directions, like those of a shell at the moment when it bursts.

The greater number of the fragments being thrown vertically into the air, fall back into the crater again. Many accumulating on the edge of the opening add more and more to the height of the cone of eruption. The lighter and smaller fragments, as well as the fine ashes, are drawn upwards by the spiral vapours, and sometimes transported by the winds over almost incredible distances.

In 1794 the ashes from Vesuvius were carried as far as the extremity of Calabria. In 1812 the volcanic ashes of Saint Vincent, in the Antilles, were carried eastward as far as Barbadoes, spreading such obscurity over the island, that, in open day, passengers could not see their way. Finally, some of the masses of molten lava are shot singly into the air during an eruption with a rapid rotatory motion, which causes them to assume the rounded shape in which they are known by the name of volcanic bombs.

We have already remarked that the lava, which in a fluid state fills the crater and the internal vent or chimney of the volcano, is forced upwards by gaseous fluids, and by the steam which has been generated from the water, entangled with the lava. In some cases the mechanical force of this vapour is so great as to drive the lava over the edge of the crater, when it forms a fiery torrent, spreading over the sides of the mountain. This only happens in the case of volcanoes of inconsiderable height; in lofty volcanoes it is not unusual for the lava thus to force an outlet for itself near the base of the mountain, through which the fiery stream discharges itself over the surrounding country. In such circumstances the lava cools somewhat rapidly; it becomes hard and presents a scoriaceous crust on the surface, while the vapour escapes in jets of steam through the interstices. But under this superficial crust the lava retains its fluid state, cooling slowly in the interior of the mass, while the thickening stream moves sluggishly along, impeded in its progress by the fragments of rock which this burning river drives before it.

The rate at which a current of lava moves along depends upon its mass, upon its degree of fluidity, and upon the inclination of the ground. It has been stated that certain streams of lava have traversed more than 3,000 yards in an hour; but the rate at which they travel is usually much less, a man on foot being often able to outstrip them. These streams, also, vary greatly in dimensions. The most considerable stream of lava from Etna had, in some parts, a thickness of nearly 120 feet, with a breadth of a geographical mile and a half. The largest lava-stream which has been recorded issued from the Skaptár Jokul, in Iceland, in 1783. It formed two currents, whose extremities were twenty leagues apart, and which from time to time presented a breadth of from seven to fifteen miles and a thickness of 650 feet.

A peculiar effect, and which only simulates volcanic activity, is observable in localities where mud volcanoes exist. Volcanoes of this class are for the most part conical hills of low elevation, with a hollow or depression at the centre, from which they discharge the mud which is forced upwards by gas and steam. The temperature of the ejected matter is only slightly elevated. The mud, generally of a greyish colour, with the odour of petroleum, is subject to the same alternating movements which have been already ascribed to the fluid lava of volcanoes, properly so called. The gases which force out this liquid mud, mixed with salts, gypsum, naphtha, sulphur, sometimes even of ammonia, are usually carburetted hydrogen and carbonic acid. Everything leads to the conclusion that these compounds proceed, at least in great part, from the reaction produced between the various elements of the subsoil under the influence of infiltrating water between bituminous marls, complex carbonates, and probably carbonic acid, derived from acidulated springs. M. Fournet saw in Languedoc, near Roujan, traces of some of these formations; and not far from that neighbourhood is the bituminous spring of Gabian.

IV.—Mud volcano at Turbaco, South America.

Mud volcanoes, or salses, exist in rather numerous localities. Several are found in the neighbourhood of Modena. There are some in Sicily, between Aragona and Girgenti. Pallas observed them in the Crimea—in the peninsula of Kertch, and in the Isle of Tamàn. Von Humboldt has described and figured a group of them in the province of Cartagena, in South America. Finally, they have been observed in the Island of Trinidad and in Hindostan. In 1797 an eruption of mud ejected from Tunguragua, in Quito, filled a valley 1,000 feet wide to a depth of 600 feet. On the opposite page is represented the mud volcano of Turbaco, in the province of Cartagena ([Plate IV.]), which is described and figured by Von Humboldt in his “Voyage to the Equatorial Regions of America.”

In certain countries we find small hillocks of argillaceous formation, resulting from ancient discharges of mud volcanoes, from which all disengagement of gas, water, and mud has long ceased. Sometimes, however, the phenomenon returns and resumes its interrupted course with great violence. Slight shocks of earthquakes are then felt; blocks of dried earth are projected from the ancient crater, and new waves of mud flow over its edge, and spread over the neighbouring ground.

To return to ordinary volcanoes, that is to say, those which eject lava. At the end of a lava-flow, when the violence of the volcanic action begins to subside, the discharge from the crater is confined to the disengagement of vaporous gases, mixed with steam, which make their escape in more or less abundance through a multitude of fissures in the ground.

The great number of volcanoes which have thus become extinct form what are called solfataras. The sulphuretted hydrogen, which is given out through the fissures in the ground, is decomposed by contact with the air, water being formed by the action of the oxygen of the atmosphere, and sulphur deposited in considerable quantities on the walls of the crater, and in the cracks of the ground. Such is the geological source of the sulphur which is collected at Pozzuoli, near Naples, and in many other similar regions—a substance which plays a most important part in the industrial occupations of the world. It is, in fact, from sulphur extracted from the ground about the mouths of extinct volcanoes, that is to say from the products of solfataras, that sulphuric acid is frequently made—sulphuric acid being the fundamental agent, one of the most powerful elements, of the manufacturing productions of both worlds.

The last phase of volcanic activity is the disengagement of carbonic acid gas without any increase of temperature. In places where these continued emanations of carbonic acid gas manifest themselves, the existence of ancient volcanoes may be recognised, of which these discharges are the closing phenomenon. This is seen in a most remarkable manner in Auvergne, where there are a multitude of acidulated springs, that is to say, springs charged with carbonic acid. During the time when he was opening the mines of Pontgibaud, M. Fournet had to contend with emanations which sometimes exhibited themselves with explosive power. Jets of water were thrown to great heights in the galleries, roaring with the noise of steam when escaping from the boiler of a locomotive engine. The water which filled an abandoned mine-shaft was, on two separate occasions, upheaved with great violence—half emptying the pit—while vast volumes of the gas overspread the whole valley, suffocating a horse and a flock of geese. The miners were compelled to fly in all haste at the moment when the gas burst forth, holding themselves as upright as possible, to avoid plunging their heads into the carbonic acid gas, which, from its low specific gravity, was now filling the lower parts of the galleries. It represented on a small scale the effect of the Grotto del Cane, which excites such surprise among the ignorant near Naples; passing, also, for one of the marvels of Nature all over the world. M. Fournet states that all the minute fissures of the metalliferous gneiss near Clermont are quite saturated with free carbonic acid gas, which rises plentifully from the soil there, as well as in many parts of the surrounding country. The components of the gneiss, with the exception of the quartz, are softened by it; and fresh combinations of the acid with lime, iron, and manganese are continually taking place. In short, long after volcanoes have become extinct, hot springs, charged with mineral ingredients, continue to flow in the same area.

The same facts as those of the Grotto del Cane manifest themselves with even greater intensity in Java, in the so-called Valley of Poison, which is an object of terror to the natives. In this celebrated valley the ground is said to be covered with skeletons and carcases of tigers, goats, stags, birds, and even of human beings; for asphyxia or suffocation, it seems, strikes all living things which venture into this desolate place. In the same island a stream of sulphurous water, as white as milk, issues from the crater of Mount Idienne, on the east coast; and on one occasion, as cited by Nozet in the Journal de Géologie, a great body of hot water, charged with sulphuric acid, was discharged from the same volcano, inundating and destroying all the vegetation of a large tract of country by its noxious fumes and poisonous properties.

V.—Great Geyser of Iceland.

It is known that the alkaline waters of Plombières, in the Vosges, have a temperature of 160° Fahr. For 2,000 years, according to Daubrée, through beds of concrete, of lime, brick, and sandstone, these hot waters have percolated until they have originated calcareous spar, aragonite, and fluor spar, together with siliceous minerals, such as opal, which are found filling the interstices of the bricks and mortar. From these and other similar statements, “we are led,” says Sir Charles Lyell,[26] “to infer that when in the bowels of the earth there are large volumes of molten matter, containing heated water and various acids, under enormous pressure, these subterraneous fluid masses will gradually part with their heat by the escape of steam and various gases through fissures producing hot springs, or by the passage of the same through the pores of the overlying and injected rocks.” “Although,” he adds,[27] “we can only study the phenomena as exhibited at the surface, it is clear that the gaseous fluids must have made their way through the whole thickness of the porous or fissured rocks, which intervene between the subterraneous reservoirs of gas and the external air. The extent, therefore, of the earth’s crust which the vapours have permeated, and are now permeating, may be thousands of fathoms in thickness, and their heating and modifying influence may be spread throughout the whole of this solid mass.”

The fountains of boiling water, known under the name of Geysers, are another emanation connected with ancient craters. They are either continuous or intermittent. In Iceland we find great numbers of these gushing springs—in fact, the island is one entire mass of eruptive rock. Nearly all the volcanoes are situated upon a broad band of trachyte, which traverses the island from south-west to north-east. It is traversed by immense fissures, and covered with masses of lava, such as no other country presents. The volcanic action, in short, goes on with such energy that certain paroxysms of Mount Hecla have lasted for six years without interruption. But the Great Geyser, represented on the opposite page ([Plate V.]), is, perhaps, even more an object of curiosity. This water-volcano projects a column of boiling water, eight yards in diameter, charged with silica, to the height, it has been said, of about 150 feet, depositing vast quantities of silica as it cools after reaching the earth.

The volcanoes in actual activity are, as we have said, very numerous, being more than 200 in number, scattered over the whole surface of the globe, but mostly occurring in tropical regions. The island of Java alone contains about fifty, which have been mapped and described by Dr. Junghahn. Those best known are Vesuvius, near Naples; Etna, in Sicily; and Stromboli, in the Lipari Islands. A rapid sketch of a few of these may interest the reader.

Vesuvius is of all volcanoes that which has been most closely studied; it is, so to speak, the classical volcano. Few persons are ignorant of the fact that it opened—after a period of quiescence extending beyond the memory of living man—in the year 79 of our era. This eruption cost the elder Pliny his life, who fell a sacrifice to his desire to witness one of the most imposing of natural phenomena. After many mutations the present crater of Vesuvius consists of a cone, surrounded on the side opposite the sea by a semicircular crest, composed of pumiceous matter, foreign to Vesuvius properly speaking, for we believe that Mount Vesuvius was originally the mountain to which the name of Somma is now given. The cone which now bears the name of Vesuvius was probably formed during the celebrated eruption of 79, which buried under its showers of pumiceous ashes the cities of Pompeii and Herculaneum. This cone terminates in a crater, the shape of which has undergone many changes, and which has, since its origin, thrown out eruptions of a varied character, together with streams of lava. In our days the eruptions of Vesuvius have only been separated by intervals of a few years.

The Lipari Isles contain the volcano of Stromboli, which is continually in a state of ignition, and forms the natural lighthouse of the Tyrrhenian Sea; such it was when Homer mentioned it, such it was before old Homer’s time, and such it still appears in our days. Its eruptions are incessant. The crater whence they issue is not situated on the summit of the cone, but upon one of its sides, at nearly two-thirds of its height. It is in part filled with fluid lava, which is continually subjected to alternate elevation and depression—a movement provoked by the ebullition and ascension of bubbles of steam which rise to the surface, projecting upwards a tall column of ashes. During the night these clouds of vapour shine with a magnificent red reflection, which lights up the whole isle and the surrounding sea with a lurid glow.

Situated on the eastern coast of Sicily, Etna appears, at the first glance, to have a much more simple structure than Vesuvius. Its slopes are less steep, more uniform on all sides; its vast base nearly represents the form of a buckler. The lower portion of Etna, or the cultivated region of the mountain, has an inclination of about three degrees. The middle, or forest region, is steeper, and has an inclination of about eight degrees. The mountain terminates in a cone of an elliptical form of thirty-two degrees of inclination, which bears in the middle, above a nearly horizontal terrace, the cone of eruption with its circular crater. The crater is 10,874 feet high. It gives out no lava, but only vomits forth gas and vapour, the streams of lava issuing from sixteen smaller cones which have been formed on the slopes of the mountain. The observer may, by looking at the summit, convince himself that these cones are disposed in rays, and are based upon clefts or fissures which converge towards the crater as towards a centre.

But the most extraordinary display of volcanic phenomena occurs in the Pacific Ocean, in the Sandwich Islands, and in Java. Mauna Loa and Mauna Kea, in Hawaii, are huge flattened cones, 14,000 feet high. According to Mr. Dana, these lofty, featureless hills sometimes throw out successive streams of lava, not very far below their summits, often two miles in breadth and six-and-twenty in length; and that not from one vent, but in every direction, from the apex of the cone down slopes varying from four to eight degrees of inclination. The lateral crater of Kilauea, on the flank of Mauna Loa, is from 3,000 to 4,000 feet above the level of the sea—an immense chasm 1,000 feet deep, with an outer circuit two to three miles in diameter. At the bottom lava is seen to boil up in a molten lake, the level of which rises or falls according to the active or quiescent state of the volcano; but in place of overflowing, the column of melted rock, when the pressure becomes excessive, forces a passage through subterranean communications leading to the sea. One of these outbursts, which took place at an ancient wooded crater six miles east of Kilauea, was observed by Mr. Coan, a missionary, in June, 1840. Another indication of the subterranean progress of the lava took place a mile or two beyond this, in which the fiery flood spread itself over fifty acres of land, and then found its way underground for several miles further, to reappear at the bottom of a second ancient wooded crater which it partly filled up.[28]

The volcanic mountains of Java constitute the highest peaks of a mountain-range running through the island from east to west, on which Dr. Junghahn described and mapped forty-six conical eminences, ranging from 4,000 to 11,000 feet high. At the top of many of the loftiest of these Dr. Junghahn found the active cones and craters of small size, and surrounded by a plain of ashes and sand, which he calls the “old crater wall,” sometimes exceeding 1,000 feet in vertical height, and many of the semicircular walls enclosing large cavities or calderas, four geographical miles in diameter. From the highest parts of many of these hollows rivers flow, which, in the course of ages, have cut out deep valleys in the mountain’s side.[29]

To this rapid sketch of actually existing volcanic phenomena we may add a brief notice of submarine volcanoes. If these are known to us only in small numbers, the circumstance is explained by the fact that their appearance above the bosom of the sea is almost invariably followed by a more or less complete disappearance; at the same time such very striking and visible phenomena afford a sufficient proof of the continued persistence of volcanic action beneath the bed of the sea-basin. At various times islands have suddenly appeared, amid the ocean, at points where the navigator had not before noticed them. In this manner we have witnessed the island called Graham’s, Ferdinanda, or Julia, which suddenly appeared off the south-west coast Sicily in 1831, and was swept away by the waves two months afterwards.[30] At several periods also, and notably in 1811, new islands were formed in the Azores, which raised themselves above the waves by repeated efforts all round the islands, and at many other points.

The island which appeared in 1796 ten leagues from the northern point of Unalaska, one of the Aleutian group of islands, is specially remarkable. We first see a column of smoke issuing from the bosom of the ocean, afterwards a black point appears, from which bundles of fiery sparks seem to rise over the surface of the sea. During the many months that these phenomena continue, the island increases in breadth and in height. Finally smoke only is seen; at the end of four years, even this last trace of volcanic convulsion altogether ceases. The island continued, nevertheless, to enlarge and to increase in height, and in 1806 it formed a cone, surmounted by four other smaller ones.

In the space comprised between the isles of Santorin, Tharasia, and Aspronisi, in the Mediterranean, there arose, 160 years before our era, the island of Hyera, which was enlarged by the upheaval of islets on its margin during the years 19, 726, and 1427. Again, in 1773, Micra-Kameni, and in 1707, Nea-Kameni, made their appearance. These islands increased in size successively in 1709, in 1711, in 1712. According to ancient writers, Santorin, Tharasia, and Aspronisi, made their appearance many ages before the Christian era, at the termination of earthquakes of great violence.

Metamorphic Rocks.

The rocks composing the terrestrial crust have not always remained in their original state. They have frequently undergone changes which have altogether modified their properties, physical and chemical.

When they present these characteristics, we term them Metamorphic Rocks. The phenomena which belong to this subject are at once important and new, and have lately much attracted the attention of geologists. We shall best enlighten our readers on the metamorphism of rocks, if we treat of it under the heads of special and general metamorphism.

When a mass of eruptive rock penetrates the terrestrial crust it subjects the rocks through which it passes to a special metamorphism—to the effects of heat produced by contact. Such effects may almost always be observed near the margin of masses of eruptive rock, and they are attributable either to the communicated heat of the eruptive rock itself, or to the disengagement of gases, of steam, or of mineral and thermal waters, which have accompanied its eruption. The effects vary not only with the rock ejected, but even with the nature of the rock surrounding it.

In the case of volcanic lava ejected in a molten state, for instance, the modifications it effects on the surrounding rock are very characteristic. Its structure becomes prismatic, full of cracks, often cellular and scoriaceous. Wood and other combustibles touched by the lava are consumed or partially carbonised. Limestone assumes a granular and crystalline texture. Siliceous rocks are transformed, not only into quartz like glass, but they also combine with various bases, and yield vitreous and cellular silicates. It is nearly the same with argillaceous rocks, which adhere together, and frequently take the colour of red bricks.

The surrounding rock is frequently impregnated with specular iron-ore, and penetrated with hydrochloric or sulphuric acid, and by divers salts formed from these acids.

At a certain distance from the place of contact with the lava, the action of water aided by heat produces silica, carbonate of lime, aragonite, zeolite, and various other minerals.

From immediate contact with the lava, then, the metamorphic rocks denote the action of a very strong heat. They bear evident traces of calcination, of softening, and even of fusion. When they present themselves as hydrosilicates and carbonates, the silica and associated minerals are most frequently at some distance from the points of contact; and the formation of these minerals is probably due to the combination of water and heat, although this last ceases to be the principal agent.

The hydrated volcanic rocks, such as the basalts and trappean rocks in general, continue to produce effects of metamorphism, in which heat operates, although its influence is inconsiderable, water being much the more powerful agent. The metamorphosis which is observable in the structure and mineralogical composition of neighbouring rocks is as follows:—The structure of separation becomes fragmentary, columnar, or many-sided, and even prismatic. It becomes especially prismatic in combustibles, in sandstones, in argillaceous formations, in felspathic rocks, and even in limestones. Prisms are formed perpendicular to the surface of contact, their length sometimes exceeding six feet. Most commonly they still contain water or volatile matter. These characters may be observed at the junction of the basalts which has been ejected upon the argillaceous strata near Clermont in Auvergne, at Polignac, and in the neighbourhood of Le Puy-en-Velay.

If the vein of Basalt or Trap has traversed a bed of coal or of lignite, we find the combustible strongly metamorphosed at the point of contact. Sometimes it becomes cellular and is changed into coke. This is especially the case in the coal-basin of Brassac. But more frequently the coal has lost all, or part of, its bituminous and volatile matter—it has been metamorphosed into anthracite—as an example we may quote the lignite of Mont Meisner.

Again, in some exceptional cases, the combustible may even be changed into graphite near to its junction with Trap. This is observed at the coal-mine of New Cumnock in Ayrshire.

When near its junction with a trappean rock, a combustible has been metamorphosed into coke or anthracite, it is also frequently impregnated by hydrated oxide of iron, by clay, foliated carbonate of lime, iron pyrites, and by various mineral veins. It may happen that the combustible has been reduced to a pulverulent state, in which case it is unfit for use. Such is the case in a coal-mine at Newcastle, where the coal lies within thirty yards of a dyke of Trap.

When Basalt and Trap have been ejected through limestone rock, the latter becomes more or less altered. Near the points of contact, the metamorphism which they have undergone is revealed by the change of colour and aspect, which is exhibited all around the vein, often also by the development of a crystalline structure. Limestone becomes granular and saccharoid—it is changed into marble. The most remarkable instance of this metamorphism is the Carrara marble, a non-fossiliferous limestone of the Oolite series, which has been altered and the fossils destroyed; so that the marble of these celebrated quarries, once supposed to have been formed before the creation of organic beings, is now shown to be an altered limestone of the Oolitic period, and the underlying crystalline schists are sandstones and shales of secondary age modified by plutonic action.

The action of basalt upon limestone is observable at Villeneuve de Berg, in Auvergne; but still more in the neighbourhood of Belfast, where we may see the Chalk changed into saccharoid limestone near to its contact with the Trap. Sometimes the metamorphism extends many feet from the point of contact; nay, more than that, some zeolites and other minerals seem to be developed in the crystallised limestone.

When sandstone is found in contact with trappean rock, it presents unequivocal traces of metamorphism; it loses its reddish colour and becomes white, grey, green, or black; parallel veins may be detected which give it a jaspideous structure; it separates into prisms perpendicular to the walls of the injected veins, when it assumes a brilliant and vitreous lustre. Sometimes it is even also found penetrated by zeolites, a family of minerals which melt before the blowpipe with considerable ebullition. The mottled sandstones of Germany, which are traversed by veins of basalt, often exhibit metamorphism, particularly at Wildenstern, in Würtemberg.

Argillaceous rocks, like all others, are subject to metamorphism when they come in contact with eruptive trappean rocks. In these circumstances they change colour and assume a varied or prismatic structure; at the same time their hardness increases, and they become lithoidal or stony in structure. They may also become cellular—form zeolites in their cavities with foliated carbonate of lime, as well as minerals which commonly occur in amygdaloid. Sometimes even the fissures are coated by the metallic minerals, and the other minerals which accompany them in their metalliferous beds. Generally they lose a part of their water and of their carbonic acid. In other circumstances they combine with oxide of iron and the alkalies. This has been asserted, for example, at Essey, in the department of the Meurthe, where a very argillaceous sandstone is found, charged with jasper porcellanite, near to the junction of the rock with a vein of basalt.

Hitherto we have spoken only of the metamorphosis the result of volcanic action. A few words will suffice to acquaint the reader with the metamorphism exercised by the porphyries and granites. By contact with granite, we find coal changed into anthracite or graphite. It is important to note, however, that coal has seldom been metamorphosed into coke. As to the limestone, it is sometimes, as we have seen, transformed into marble; we even find in its interior divers minerals, notably silicates with a calcareous base, such as garnets, pyroxene, hornblende, &c. The sandstones and clay-slates have alike been altered.

The surrounding deposit and the eruptive rock are both frequently impregnated with quartz, carbonate of lime, sulphate of baryta, fluorides, and, in a word, with the whole tribe of metalliferous minerals, which present themselves, besides, with the characteristics which are common to them in the veins.

General Metamorphism.

Sedimentary rocks sometimes exhibit all the symptoms of metamorphism where there is no evidence of direct eruptive action, and that upon a scale much grander than in the case of special metamorphism. It is observable over whole regions, in which it has modified and altered simultaneously all the surrounding rocks. This state of things is called general, or normal, metamorphism. The fundamental gneiss, which covers such a vast extent of country, is the most striking instance known of general metamorphism. It was first described by Sir W. E. Logan, Director of the Canadian Geological Survey, who estimates its thickness at 30,000 feet. The Laurentian Gneiss is a term which is used by geologists to designate those metamorphic rocks which are known to be older than the Cambrian system. They are parts of the old pre-Cambrian continents which lie at the base of the great American continent, Scandinavia, the Hebrides, &c.; and which are largely developed on the west coast of Scotland. In order to give the reader some idea of this metamorphism, we shall endeavour to trace its effects in rocks of the same nature, indicating the characters successively presented by the rocks according to the intensity of the metamorphism to which they have been subjected.