CHAPTER VI.

THE CARBONIFEROUS AGE.

That age of the world's history which, from its richness in

accumulations of vegetable matter destined to be converted into coal,

has been named the Carboniferous, is in relation to living beings the

most complete and noble of the Palæozoic periods. In it those varied

arrangements of land and water which had been increasing in perfection

in the previous periods, attained to their highest development. In it

the forms of animal and plant life that had been becoming more

numerous and varied from the Eozoic onward, culminated. The Permian

which succeeded was but the decadence of the Carboniferous,

preparatory to the introduction of a new order of things. Thus the

Carboniferous was to the previous periods what the Modern is to the

preceding Tertiary and Mesozoic ages the summation and completion of

them all, and the embodiment of their highest excellence. If the

world's history had closed with the Carboniferous, a naturalist,

knowing nothing further, would have been obliged to admit that it had

already fulfilled all the promise of its earlier years. It is

important to remember this, since we shall find ourselves entering on

an entirely new scene in the Mesozoic period, and since this

character of the Carboniferous, as well as its varied conditions and

products, may excuse us for dwelling on it a little longer then on the

others, On the other hand, the immense economic importance of the coal

formation, and the interesting points connected with it, have made the

Carboniferous more familiar to general readers then most other

geological periods, so that we may select points less common and

well-known for illustration. Popular expositions of geology are,

however, generally so one-sided and so distorted by the prevalent

straining after effect, that the true aspect of this age is perhaps

not much better known then that of others less frequently described.

Let us first consider the Carboniferous geography of the northern

hemisphere; and in doing so we may begin with a fact concerning the

preceding age. One of the most remarkable features of the Newer

Devonian is the immense quantity of red rocks, particularly red

sandstones, contained in it. Red sandstones, it is true, occur in

older formations, but comparatively rarely; their great head-quarters,

both in Europe and America, in so far as the Palæozoic is concerned,

are in the Upper Devonian. Now red sandstone is an infallible mark of

rapid deposition, and therefore of active physical change. If we

examine the grains of sand in a red sandstone, we shall find that they

are stained or coated, externally, with the peroxide of iron, or iron

rust; and that this coating, with perhaps a portion of the same

substance in the intervening cement, is the cause of the colour. In

finer sandstones and red clays the same condition exists, though less

distinctly perceptible. Consequently, if red sands and clays are long

abraded or scoured in water, or are subjected to any chemical agent

capable of dissolving the iron, they cease to be red, and resume their

natural grey or white colour. Now in nature, in addition to mechanical

abrasion, there is a chemical cause most potent in bleaching red

rocks, namely, the presence of vegetable or animal matter in a state

of decay. Without entering into chemical details, we may content

ourselves with the fact that organic matter decaying in contact with

peroxide of iron tends to take oxygen from it, and then to dissolve it

in the state of protoxide, while the oxygen set free aids the decay.

Carrying this fact with us, we may next affirm that iron is so

plentiful in the crust of the earth that nearly all sands and clays

when first produced from the weathering of rocks are stained with it,

and that when this weathering takes place in the air, the iron is

always in the state of peroxide. More especially does this apply to

the greater number of igneous or volcanic rocks, which nearly always

weather brown or red. Now premising that the original condition of

sediment is that of being reddened with iron, and that it may lose

this by abrasion, or by the action of organic matter, it follows that

when sand has been produced by decay of rocks in the air, and when it

is rapidly washed into the sea and deposited there, red beds will

result. For instance, in the Bay of Fundy, whose rapid tides cut away

the red rocks of its shores and deposit their materials quickly, red

mud and sand constitute the modern deposit. On the other hand, when

the red Band and mud are long washed about, their red matter may

disappear; and when the deposition is slow and accompanied with the

presence of organic matter, the red colour is not only removed, but is

replaced by the dark tints due to carbon. Thus, in the Gulf of St.

Lawrence, where red rocks similar to those of the Bay of Fundy are

being more slowly wasted, and deposited in the presence of sea-weeds

and other vegetable substances, the resulting sands and clays are

white and grey or blackened in colour. An intermediate condition is

sometimes observed, in which red beds are stained with grey spots and

lines, where sea-weeds or land-plants have rested on them. I have

specimens of Devonian red shale with the forms of fern leaves, the

substance of which has entirely perished, traced most delicately upon

them in greenish marks.

It follows from these facts that extensive and thick deposits of red

beds evidence sub-aërial decay of rocks, followed by comparatively

rapid deposition in water, and that such red rocks will usually

contain few fossils, not only because of their rapid deposition, but

because the few organic fragments deposited with them will probably

have been destroyed by the chemical action of the superabundant oxide

of iron, which, so to speak, "iron-moulds" them, just as stains of

iron eat holes out of linen. Now when Sir Roderick Murchison tells us

of 10,000 feet in thickness of red iron-stained rocks in the old red

sandstone of England, we can see in this the evidence of rapid aqueous

deposition, going on for a very long time, and baring vast areas of

former land surface. Consequently we have proof of changes of level

and immense and rapid denudation--a conclusion further confirmed by

the apparent unconformity of different members of the series to each

other in some parts of the British Islands, the lower beds having been

tilted up before the newer were deposited. Such was the state of

affairs very generally at the close of the Devonian, and it appears to

have been accompanied with some degree of subsidence of the land,

succeeded by re-elevation at the beginning of the Carboniferous, when

many and perhaps large islands and chains of islands were raised out

of the sea, along whose margins there were extensive volcanic

eruptions, evidenced by the dykes of trap traversing the Devonian, and

the beds of old lava interstratified in the lower part of the

Carboniferous, where also the occurrence of thick beds of conglomerate

or pebble-rock indicates the tempestuous action of the sea.

But a careful study of the Lower Carboniferous beds, where their

margins rest upon the islands of older rocks, shows great varieties in

these old shores. In some places there were shingly beaches; in

others, extensive sand-banks; in others, swampy flats clothed with

vegetation, and sometimes bearing peaty beds, still preserved as small

seams of coal. The bays and creeks swarmed with, fishes. A few

sluggish reptiles crept along the muddy or sandy shores, and out

sea-ward were great banks and reefs of coral and shells in the clear

blue sea. The whole aspect of nature, taken in a general view, in the

Older Carboniferous period, must have much resembled that at present

seen among the islands of the southern hemisphere. And the plants and

animals, though different, were more like those of the modern South

Pacific then any others now living.

As the age wore on, the continents were slowly lifted out of the

water, and the great continental plateaus were changed from coral seas

into swampy flats or low uplands, studded in many places with shallow

lakes, and penetrated with numerous creeks and sluggish streams. In

the eastern continent these land surfaces prevailed extensively, more

especially in the west; and in America they spread both eastward and

westward from the Appalachian ridge, until only a long north and south

Mediterranean, running parallel to the Rocky Mountains, remained of

the former wide internal ocean. On this new and low land, comparable

with the "Sylvas" of the South American continent, flourished the

wondrous vegetation of the Coal period, and were introduced the new

land animals, whose presence distinguishes the close of the Palæozoic.

After a vast lapse of time, in which only slow and gradual subsidence

occurred, a more rapid settlement of the continental areas brought the

greater part of the once fertile plains of the coal formation again

under the waters; and shifting sand-banks and muddy tides engulfed and

buried the remains of the old forests, and heaped on them a mass of

sediment, which, like the weights of a botanical press, flattened and

compressed the vegetable _débris_ preserved in the leaves of the coal

formation strata. Then came on that strange and terrible Permian

period, which, like the more modern boulder-formation, marked the

death of one age and the birth of another.

The succession just sketched is the normal one; but the terms in which

it has been described show that it cannot be universal. There are many

places in which the whole thickness of the Carboniferous is filled

with fossils of the land, and of estuaries and creeks. There are

places, on the other hand, where the deep sea appears to have

continued during the whole period. In America this is seen on the

grandest scale in the absence of the marine members along the western

slopes of the Appalachians, and the almost exclusive prevalence of

marine beds in the far west, where the great Carboniferous

Mediterranean of America spread itself, and continued uninterruptedly

into the succeeding Permian period.

In our survey of the Carboniferous age, though there are peculiarities

in the life of its older, middle, and newer divisions, we may take the

great coal measures of the middle portion as the type of the land life

of the period, and the great limestones of the lower portion as that

of the marine life; and as the former is in this period by far the

most important, we may begin with it. Before doing so, however, to

prevent misapprehension, it is necessary to remind the reader that the

Flora of the Middle Coal Period is but one of a succession of related

floras that reach from the Upper Silurian to the Permian. The meagre

flora of club-mosses and their allies in the Upper Silurian and Lower

Devonian was succeeded by a comparatively rich and varied assemblage

of plants in the Middle Devonian. The Upper Devonian was a period of

decadence, and in the Lower Carboniferous we have another feeble

beginning, presenting features somewhat different from those of the

Upper Devonian. This was the time of the Culm of Germany, the Tweedian

formation of the North of England and South of Scotland, and the Lower

Coal formation of Nova Scotia. It was a period eminently rich in

Lepidodendra. It was followed by the magnificent flora of the Middle

Coal formation, and then there was a time of decadence in the Upper

Coal formation and only a slight revival in the Permian.

In the present condition of our civilization, coal is the most

important product which the bowels of the earth afford to man. And

though there are productive beds of coal in most of the later

geological formations, down to the peats of the modern period, which

are only unconsolidated coals, yet the coal of the Carboniferous age

is the earliest valuable coal in point of time, and by far the most

important in point of quantity. Mineral coal may be defined to be

vegetable matter which has been buried in the strata of the earth's

crust, and there subjected to certain chemical and mechanical changes.

The proof of its vegetable origin will grow upon us as we proceed. The

chemical changes which it has undergone are not very material. Wood or

bark, taken as an example of ordinary vegetable matter, consists of

carbon or charcoal, with the gases hydrogen and oxygen. Coal has

merely parted with a portion of these ingredients in the course of a

slow and imperfect putrefaction, so that it comes to have much less

oxygen and considerably less hydrogen then wood, and it has been

blackened by the disengagement of a quantity of free carbon. The more

bituminous flaming coals have a larger amount of residual hydrogen. In

the anthracite coals the process of carbonisation has proceeded

further, and little remains but charcoal in a dense and compact form.

In cannel coals, and in certain bituminous shales, on the contrary,

the process seems to have taken place entirely under water, by which

putrefaction has been modified, so that a larger proportion then usual

of hydrogen has been retained. The mechanical change which the coal

has experienced consists in the flattening and hardening effect of the

immense pressure of thousands of feet of superincumbent rock, which

has crashed together the cell-walls of the vegetable matter, and

reduced what was originally a pulpy mass of cellular tissue to the

condition of a hard laminated rock. To understand this, perhaps the

simplest way is to compare under the microscope a transverse section

of recent pine-wood with a similar section of a pine trunk compressed

into brown coal or jet. In the one the tissue appears as a series of

meshes with thin woody walls and comparatively wide cavities for the

transmission of the sap. In the other the walls of the cells have been

forced into direct contact, and in some cases have altogether lost

their separate forms, and have been consolidated into a perfectly

compact structureless mass.

With regard to its mode of occurrence, coal is found in beds ranging

in vertical thickness from less then an inch to more then thirty feet,

and of wide horizontal extent. Many such beds usually occur in the

thickness of the coal formation, or "coal measures," as the miners

call it, separated from each other by beds of sandstone and compressed

clay or shale. Very often the coal occurs in groups of several beds,

somewhat close to each other and separated from other groups by

"barren measures" of considerable thickness. In examining a bed of

coal, where it is exposed in a cutting or shore cliff, we nearly

always find that the bed below it, or the "underclay," as it is termed

by miners, is a sort of fossil soil, filled with roots and rootlets.

On this rests the coal, which, when we examine it closely, is found to

consist of successive thin layers of hard coal of different qualities

as to lustre and purity, and with intervening laminae of a dusty

fibrous substance, like charcoal, called "mother coal" by miners, and

sometimes mineral charcoal. Thin partings of dark shale also occur,

and these usually present marks and impressions of the stems and

leaves of plants. Above the coal is its "roof" of hardened clay or

sandstone, and this generally holds great quantities of remains of

plants, and sometimes large stumps of trees with their bark converted

into coal, and the hollow once occupied with wood filled with

sandstone, while their roots spread over the surface of the coal. Such

fossil forests of erect stumps are also found at various levels in the

coal measures, resting directly on under-clays without any coals. A

bed of coal would thus appear to be a fossil bog or swamp.

This much being premised about the general nature of the sooty blocks

which fill our coal-scuttles, we may now transport ourselves into the

forests and bogs of the coal formation, and make acquaintance with

this old vegetation, while it still waved its foliage in the breeze

and drank in the sunshine and showers. We are in the midst of one of

those great low plains formed by the elevation of the former sea bed.

The sun pours down its fervent rays upon us, and the atmosphere, being

loaded with vapour, and probably more rich in carbonic acid then that

of the present world, the heat is as it were accumulated and kept near

the surface, producing a close and stifling atmosphere like that of a

tropical swamp. This damp and oppressive air is, however, most

favourable to the growth of the strange and grotesque trees which

tower over our heads, and to the millions of delicate ferns and

club-mosses, not unlike those of our modern woods, which carpet the

ground. Around us for hundreds of miles spreads a dense and monotonous

forest, with here and there open spaces occupied by ponds and sluggish

streams, whose edges are bordered with immense savannahs of reed-like

plants, springing from the wet and boggy soil. Everything bespeaks a

rank exuberance of vegetable growth; and if we were to dig downward

into the soil, we should find a thick bed of vegetable mould

evidencing the prevalence of such conditions for ages. But the time

will come when this immense flat will meet with the fate which in

modern times befell a large district at the mouth of the Indus.

Quietly, or with earthquake shocks, it will sink under the waters;

fishes and mollusks will swarm where trees grew, beds of sand and mud

will be deposited by the water, inclosing and preserving the remains

of the vegetation, and in some places surrounding and imbedding the

still erect trunks of trees. Many feet of such deposits may be formed,

and our forest surface, with its rich bed of vegetable mould, has been

covered up and is in process of transformation into coal; while in

course of time the shallow waters being filled up with deposit, or a

slight re-elevation occurring, a new forest exactly like the last will

flourish on the same spot. Such changes would be far beyond the

compass of the life even of a Methuselah; but had we lived in the Coal

period, we might have seen all stages of these processes

contemporaneously in different parts of either of the great

continents.

But let us consider the actual forms of vegetation presented to us in

the Coal period, as we can restore them from the fragments preserved

to us in the beds of sandstone and shale, and as we would have seen

them in our imaginary excursion through the Carboniferous forests. To

do this we must first glance slightly at the great subdivisions of

modern plants, which we may arrange in such a way as to give an easy

means for comparison of the aspects of the vegetable kingdom in

ancient and modern times. In doing this I shall avail myself of an

extract from a previous publication of my own on this subject.

"The modern flora of the earth admits of a grand twofold division into

the _Phænogamous_, or flowering and seed-bearing plants, and the

_Cryptogamous_, or flowerless and spore-bearing plants. In the former

series, we have, first, those higher plants which start in life with

two seed-leaves, and have stems with distinct bark, wood, and

pith--the _Exogens_; secondly, those similar plants which begin life

with one seed-leaf only, and have no distinction of bark, wood, and

pith, in the stem--the _Endogens_; and, thirdly, a peculiar group

starting with two or several seed-leaves, and having a stem with bark,

wood, and pith, but with very imperfect flowers, and wood of much

simpler structure then either of the others--the _Gymnosperms_. To the

first of these groups or classes belong most of the ordinary trees of

temperate climates. To the second belong the palms and allied trees

found in tropical climates. To the third belong the pines and cycads.

In the second or Cryptogamous series we have also three classes,--(1.)

The _Acrogens_, or ferns and club-mosses, with stems having true

vessels marked on the sides with cross-bars--the Scalariform vessels.

(2.) The _Anophytes_, or mosses and their allies, with stems and

leaves, but no vessels. (3.) The _Thallophytes_, or lichens, fungi,

sea-weeds, etc., without true stems and leaves.

"In the existing climates of the earth we find these classes of plants

variously distributed as to relative numbers. In some, pines

predominate. In others, palms and tree-ferns form a considerable part

of the forest vegetation. In others, the ordinary exogenous trees

predominate, almost to the exclusion of others. In some Arctic and

Alpine regions, mosses and lichens prevail. In the Coal period we have

found none of the higher Exogens, though one species is known in the

Devonian, and only a few obscure indications of the presence of

Endogens; but Gymnosperms abound, and are highly characteristic. On

the other hand, we have no mosses or lichens, and very few algæ, but a

great number of ferns and Lycopodiaceæ or club-mosses. Thus the coal

formation period is botanically a meeting-place of the lower

Phænogams and the higher Cryptogams, and presents many forms which,

when imperfectly known, have puzzled botanists in regard to their

position in one or other series. In the present world, the flora most

akin to that of the Coal period is that of moist and warm islands in

the southern hemisphere. It is not properly a tropical flora, nor is

it the flora of a cold region, but rather indicative of a moist and

equable climate. In accordance with this is the fact that the equable

but not warm climate of the southern hemisphere at present (which is

owing principally to its small extent of land) enables sub-tropical

plants to extend into high latitudes. In the Coal period this

uniformity was evidently still more marked, since we find similar

plants extending from regions within the Arctic circle to others near

to the tropics. Still we must bear in mind that we may often be

mistaken in reasoning as to the temperature required by extinct

species of plants differing from those now in existence. Further, we

must not assume that the climatal conditions of the northern

hemisphere were in the Coal period at all similar to those which now

prevail. As Sir Charles Lyell has argued, a less amount of land in the

higher latitudes would greatly modify climates, and there is every

reason to believe that in the Coal period there was less land then

now. It has been shown by Tyndall that a very small additional amount

of carbonic acid in the atmosphere would, by obstructing the radiation

of heat from the earth, produce almost the effect of a glass roof or

conservatory, extending over the whole world. There is much in the

structure of the leaves of the coal plants, as well as in the vast

amount of carbon which they accumulated in the form of coal, and the

characteristics of the animal life of the period, to indicate, on

independent grounds, that the Carboniferous atmosphere differed from

that of the present world in this way, or in the presence of more

carbonic acid--a substance now existing in the very minute proportion

of one-thousandth of the whole by weight, a quantity adapted to the

present requirements of vegetable and animal life, but probably not to

those of the Coal period."

Returning from this digression to the forests of the Coal period, we

may first notice that which is the most conspicuous and abundant tree

in the swampy levels--the Sigillaria or seal-tree, so called from the

stamp-like marks left by the fall of its leaves--a plant which has

caused much discussion as to its affinities. Some regard it as a

gymnosperm, others as a cryptogam. Most probably we have under this

name trees allied in part to both groups, and which, when better

known, may bridge over the interval between them. These trees present

tall pillar-like trunks, often ribbed vertically with raised bands,

and marked with rows of scars left by the fallen leaves. They are

sometimes branchless, or divide at top into a few thick limbs, covered

with long rigid grass-like foliage. On their branches they bear long

slender spikes of fruit, and we may conjecture that quantities of

nut-like seeds scattered over the ground around their trunks are

their produce. If we approach one of these trees closely, more

especially a young specimen not yet furrowed by age, we are amazed to

observe the accurate regularity and curious forms of the leaf-scars,

and the regular ribbing, so very different from that of our ordinary

forest trees. If we cut into its stem, we are still further astonished

at its singular structure. Externally it has a firm and hard rind.

Within this is a great thickness of soft cellular inner bark,

traversed by large bundles of tough fibres. In the centre is a core or

axis of woody matter very slender in proportion to the thickness of

the trunk, and still further reduced in strength by a large cellular

pith. Thus a great stem four or five feet in diameter is little else

then a mass of cellular tissue, altogether unfit to form a mast or

beam, but excellently adapted, when flattened and carbonised, to blaze

upon our winter hearth as a flake of coal. The roots of these trees

were perhaps more singular then their stems; spreading widely in the

soft soil by regular bifurcation, they ran out in long snake-like

cords, studded all over with thick cylindrical rootlets, which spread

from them in every direction. They resembled in form, and probably in

function, those cable-like root-stocks of the pond-lilies which run

through the slime of lakes, but the structure of the rootlets was

precisely that of those of some modern Cycads. It was long before

these singular roots were known to belong to a tree. They were

supposed to be the branches of some creeping aquatic plant, and

botanists objected to the idea of their being roots; but at length

their connection with Sigillaria was observed simultaneously by Mr.

Binney, in Lancashire, and by Mr. Richard Brown, in Cape Breton, and

it has been confirmed by many subsequently observed facts. This

connection, when once established, further explained the reason of the

almost universal occurrence of Stigmaria, as these roots were called,

under the coal beds; while trunks of the same plants were the most

abundant fossils of their partings and roofs. The growth of successive

generations of Sigillariæ was, in fact, found to be the principal

cause of the accumulation of a bed of coal. Two species form the

central figures in our illustration.

[Illustration: Fig. 13.--GROUP OF CARBONIFEROUS PLANTS, RESTORED FROM

ACTUAL SPECIMENS.

(_a_) Calamites (type of _C. Suckovii_). (_b_) Lepidofloios, or

Ulodendron. (_c_) Sigillaria (type of _S. reniformis_).

(_d_) (type of _S. elegans_). (_e_) Lepidodendron (type of

_L. corrugatum_). (_f_) Megaphyton (type of _M. magnificum_).

(_g_) Cordaites, or Pychnophyllum (type of _C. borassifolia_).]

Along with the trees last mentioned, we observe others of a more

graceful and branching form, the successors of those Lepidodendra

already noticed in the Devonian, and which still abound in the

Carboniferous, and attain to larger dimensions then their older

relations, though they are certainly more abundant and characteristic

in the lower portions of the carboniferous. Relatives, as already

stated, of our modern club-mosses, now represented only by

comparatively insignificant species, they constitute the culmination

of that type, which thus had attained its acme very long ago, though

it still continues to exist under depauperated forms. They all

branched by bifurcation, sometimes into the most graceful and delicate

sprays. They had narrow slender leaves, placed in close spirals on the

branches. They bore their spores in scaly cones. Their roots were

similar to Stigmaria in general appearance, though differing in

details. In the coal period there were several generic forms of these

plants, all attaining to the dimensions of trees. Like the Sigillariæ,

they contributed to the materials of the coal; and one mode of this

has recently attracted some attention. It is the accumulation of their

spores and spore-cases already referred to in speaking of the

Devonian, and which was in the Carboniferous so considerable as to

constitute an important feature locally in some beds of coal. A

similar modern accumulation of spore-cases of tree-ferns occurs in

Tasmania; but both in the Modern and the Carboniferous, such beds are

exceptional; though wherever spore-cases exist as a considerable

constituent of coal, from their composition they give to it a highly

bituminous character, an effect, however, which is equally produced by

the hard scales supporting the spores, and by the outer epidermal

tissues of plants when these predominate in the coal, more especially

by the thick corky outer bark of Sigillaria. In short, the corky

substance of bark and similar vegetable tissues, from its highly

carbonaceous character, its indestructibility, and its difficult

permeability by water carrying mineral matter in solution, is the best

of all materials for the production of coal; and the microscope shows

that of this the principal part of the coal is actually composed.

In the wide, open forest glades, tree-ferns almost precisely similar

to those of the modern tropics reared their leafy crowns. But among

them was one peculiar type, in which the fronds were borne in pairs

on opposite sides of the stem, leaving when they fell two rows of

large horseshoe-shaped scars marking the sides of the trunk.

Botanists, who have been puzzled with these plants almost as much as

with the Stigmaria, have supposed these scars to be marks of branches,

of cones, and even of aërial roots; but specimens in my collection

prove conclusively that the stem of this genus was a great caudex made

up of the bases of two rows of huge leaves cemented together probably

by intervening cellular tissue. As in the Devonian and in modern

times, the stems of the tree-ferns of the Carboniferous strengthened

themselves by immense bundles of cord-like aërial roots, which look

like enormous fossil brooms, and are known under the name Psaronius.

We have only time to glance at the vast brakes of tall Calamites which

fringe the Sigillaria woods, and stretch far sea-ward over tidal

flats. They were allied to modern Mares' Tails or Equisetums, but were

of gigantic size, and much more woody structure of stem. The Calamites

grew on wet mud and sand-flats, and also in swamps; and they appear to

have been especially adapted to take root in and clothe and mat

together soft sludgy material recently deposited or in process of

deposition. When the seed or spore of a Calamite had taken root, it

probably produced a little low whorl of leaves surrounding one small

joint, from which another and another, widening in size, arose,

producing a cylindrical stem, tapering to a point below. To

strengthen the unstable base, the lower joints, especially if the mud

had been accumulating around the plant, shot out long roots instead of

leaves, while secondary stems grew out of the sides at the surface of

the soil, and in time there was a stool of Calamites, with tufts of

long roots stretching downwards, like an immense brush, into the mud.

When Calamites thus grew on inundated flats, they would, by causing

the water to stagnate, promote the elevation of the surface by new

deposits, so that their stems gradually became buried; but this only

favoured their growth, for they continually pushed out new stems,

while the old buried ones shot out bundles of roots instead of regular

whorls of leaves.

The Calamites, growing in vast fields along the margins of the

Sigillaria forests, must have greatly protected these from the effects

of inundations, and by collecting the mud brought down by streams in

times of flood, must have done much to prevent the intrusion of earthy

deposits among the vegetable matter. Their chief office, therefore, as

coal-producers, seems to have been to form for the Sigillaria forests

those reedy fringes which, when inundations took place, would exclude

mud, and prevent that mixture of earthy matter in the coal which would

have rendered it too impure for use. Quantities of fragments of their

stems can, however, be detected by the microscope in most coals.

The modern Mares' Tails have thin-walled hollow stems, and some of the

gigantic calamites of the coal resembled them in this. But others, to

which the name _Calamodendron_, or Reed-tree, has been given, had

stems with thick woody walls of a remarkable structure, which, while

similar in plan to that of the Mares' Tails, was much more perfect in

its development. Professor Williamson has shown that there were forms

intervening between these extremes; and thus in the calamites and

calamodendrons we have another example of the exaltation in ancient

times of a type now of humble structure; or, in other words, of a

comprehensive type, low in the modern world, but in older periods

taking to itself by anticipation the properties afterward confined to

higher forms. The gigantic club-mosses of the Coal period constitute a

similar example, and it is very curious that both of these types have

been degraded in the modern world, though retaining precisely their

general aspect, while the tree-ferns contemporary with them in the

Palæozoic still survive in all their original grandeur.

Barely in the swampy flats, perhaps more frequently in the uplands,

grew great pines of several kinds; trees capable of doing as good

service for planks and beams as many of their modern successors, but

which lived before their time, and do not appear even to have aided

much in the formation of coal. These pines of the Coal-period seem to

have closely resembled some species still living in the southern

hemisphere; and, like the ferns, they present to us a vegetable type

which has endured through vast periods of time almost unchanged.

Indeed, in the Middle Devonian we have pines almost as closely

resembling those of the Modern world as do those of the Coal period.

It is in accordance with this long duration of the ferns and pines,

that they are plants now of world-wide distribution--suited to all

climates and stations. Capacity to exist under varied conditions is

near akin to capacity to survive cosmical changes. A botanist in the

strange and monstrous woods which we have tried to describe, would

probably have found many curious things among the smaller herbaceous

plants, and might have gathered several precursors of the modern

Exogens and Endogens which have not been preserved to us as fossils,

or are known only as obscure fragments. But incomplete though our

picture necessarily is, and obscured by the dust of time, it may serve

in some degree to render green to our eyes those truly primeval

forests which treasured up for our long winter nights the Palæozoic

sunshine, and established for us those storehouses of heat-giving

material which work our engines and propel our ships and carriages.

Truly they lived not in vain, both as realizing for us a type of

vegetation which otherwise we could not have imagined, and as

preparing the most important of all the substrata of our modern arts

and manufactures. In this last regard even the vegetable waste of the

old coal swamps was most precious to us, as the means of producing the

clay iron ores of the coal measures. I may close this notice of the

Carboniferous forests with a suggestive extract from a paper by

Professor Huxley in the _Contemporary Review_:--

"Nature is never in a hurry, and seems to have had always before her

eyes the adage, 'Keep a thing long enough, and you will find a use for

it.' She has kept her beds of coal for millions of years without being

able to find much use for them; she has sent them down beneath the

sea, and the sea-beasts could make nothing of them: she has raised

them up into dry land and laid the black veins bare, and still for

ages and ages there was no living thing on the face of the earth that

could see any sort of value in them; and it was only the other day, so

to speak, that she turned a new creature oat of her workshop, who by

degrees acquired sufficient wits to make a fire, and then to discover

that the black rock would burn.

"I suppose that nineteen hundred years ago, when Julius Cæsar was good

enough to deal with Britain as we have dealt with New Zealand, the

primeval Briton, blue with cold and woad, may have known that the

strange black stone, of which he found lumps here and there in his

wanderings, would burn, and so help to warm his body and cook his

food. Saxon, Dane, and Norman swarmed into the land. The English

people grew into a powerful nation, and Nature still waited for a

return for the capital she had invested in the ancient club-mosses.

The eighteenth century arrived, and with it James Watt. The brain of

that man was the spore out of which was developed the steam-engine,

and all the prodigious trees and branches of modern industry which

have grown out of this. But coal is as much an essential condition of

this growth and development as carbonic acid is for that of a

club-moss. Wanting the coal, we could not have smelted the iron needed

to make our engines, nor have worked our engines when we had got them.

But take away the engines, and the great towns of Yorkshire and

Lancashire vanish like a dream. Manufactures give place to agriculture

and pasture, and not ten men could live where now ten thousand are

amply supported.

"Thus all this abundant wealth of money and of vivid life is Nature's

investment in club-mosses and the like so long ago. But what becomes

of the coal which is burnt in yielding the interest? Heat comes out of

it, light comes out of it, and if we could gather together all that

goes up the chimney and all that remains in the grate of a

thoroughly-burnt coal fire, we should find ourselves in possession of

a quantity of carbonic acid, water, ammonia, and mineral matters,

exactly equal in weight to the coal. But these are the very matters

with which Nature supplied the club-moss which made the coal. She is

paid back principal and interest at the same time; and she straightway

invests the carbonic acid, the water, and the ammonia in new forms of

life, feeding with them the plants that now live. Thrifty Nature!

surely no prodigal, but most notable of housekeepers!"

All this is true and admirably put. Its one weak point is the poetical

personification of Nature as an efficient planner of the whole. Such

an imaginary goddess is a mere superstition, unknown alike to science

and theology. Surely it is more rational to hold that the mind which

can utilize the coal and understand the manner of its formation, is

itself made in the image and likeness of the Supreme Creative Spirit,

in whom we live and move and have our being, who knows the end from

the beginning, whose power is the origin of natural forces, whose

wisdom is the source of laws and correlations of laws, and whose great

plan is apparent alike in the order of nature of the Palæozoic world

and of the modern world, as well as in the relation of these to each

other.

In the Carboniferous, as in the Devonian age, insects existed, and in

greater numbers. The winged insects of the period, so far as known,

belong to three of the nine or ten orders into which modern insects

are usually divided. Conspicuous among them are representatives of our

well-known domestic pests the cockroaches, which thus belong

geologically to a very old family. The Carboniferous roaches had not

the advantage of haunting our larders, but they had abundance of

vegetable food in the rank forests of their time, and no doubt lived

much as the numerous wild out-of-door species of this family now do.

It is, however, a curious fact that a group of insects created so long

ago, should prove themselves capable of the kind of domestication to

which these creatures attain in our modern days; and that, had we

lived even so far back as the coal period, we might have been liable

to the attacks of this particular kind of pest. Another group,

represented by many species in the coal forests, was that of the

May-flies and shad-flies, or ephemeras, which spend their earlier days

under water, feeding on vegetable matter, and affording food to many

fresh-water fishes--a use which they no doubt served in the coal

period also. Some of them were giants in their way, being probably

seven inches in expanse of wing, and their larvæ must have been choice

morsels to the ganoid fishes, and would have afforded abundant bait

had there been anglers in those days. Another group of insects was

that of the weevils, a family of beetles, whose grubs must have found

plenty of nuts and fruits to devour, without attracting the wrathful

attentions of any gardener or orchardist.

A curious and exceptional little group of creatures in the present

world is that of the galley-worms or millipedes; wingless,

many-jointed, and many-footed crawlers, resembling worms, but more

allied to insects. These animals seem to have swarmed in the coal

forests, and perhaps attained their maximum numbers and importance in

this period, though they still remain, a relic of an ancient

comprehensive type. I have myself found specimens referred by Mr.

Scudder, a most competent entomologist, to two genera and five

species, in a few decayed fossil stumps in Nova Scotia, and several

others have been discovered in other parts of the world. It is not

wonderful that animals like these, feeding on decayed vegetable

matter, should have flourished in the luxuriant Sigillaria swamps. A

few species of scorpions and spiders, very like those of the modern

world, have been found in the coal measures, both in Europe and

America; so that while we know of no enemy of the Devonian insects

except the fishes, we know in addition to these in the Carboniferous

the spiders and their allies, and the smaller reptiles or batrachians

to be noticed in the sequel. With reference to the latter, it is a

curious fact that one of the first fragments of a winged insect found

in the coal-fields of America was a part of a head and some other

remains contained in the coprolites or excrementitious matter of one

of the smaller fossil reptiles. It is perhaps equally interesting that

this head shows one of the compound facetted eyes as perfectly

developed as those of any modern Neuropter, a group of insects

remarkable even in the present world for their large and complex

organs of vision. We may pause here to note that, just as in the

Primordial we already have the Trilobites presenting all the

modifications of which the type is susceptible, so in the

Carboniferous we have in the case of the terrestrial articulates a

similar fact--highly specialised forms like the beetles, the spiders,

and the scorpions, already existing along with comprehensive forms

like the millipedes. Let us formulate the law of creation which the

Primordial trilobites, the Devonian fishes, and the Carboniferous

club-mosses and insects have taught us: it is, that every new type

rapidly attains its maximum of development in magnitude and variety of

forms, and then remains stationary, or even retrogrades, in

subsequent ages. We may connect this with other laws in the sequel.

In the coal measures we also meet, for the first time in our ascending

progress, the land snails so familiar now in every part of the world,

and which are represented by two little species found in the coal

formation of Nova Scotia. The figures of these must speak for

themselves; but the fact of their occurrence here and the mode of

their preservation require some detailed mention. The great province

of the Mollusks we have carried with us since we met with the Lingulæ

in the Primordial, but all its members have been aquatic, and probably

marine. For the first time, in the Carboniferous period, snails emerge

from the waters, and walk upon the ground and breathe air; for, like

the modern land snails, these creatures no doubt had air-sacks instead

of gills. They come suddenly upon us--two species at once, and these

representing two distinct forms of the snail tribe, the elongated and

the rounded. They were very numerous. In the beds where they occur,

probably thousands of specimens, more or less perfect, could be

collected. Were they the first-born of land snails? It would be rash

to affirm this, more especially since in all the coal-fields of the

world no specimens have been found except at one locality in Nova

Scotia;[N] and in all the succeeding beds we meet with no more till we

have reached a comparatively modern time. Yet it is very unlikely

that these creatures were in the coal period limited to one country,

and that, after that period, they dropped out of existence for long

ages, and then reappeared. Still it may have been so.

[N] Bradley has recently announced the discovery of other species in

the coal-field of Illinois.

THE TWO OLDEST LAND SNAILS.

[Illustration: Fig. 14.--_Pupa Vetusta_, Dawson.

(_a_) Natural size, (_b_) Enlarged, (_c_) Apex, enlarged,

(_d_) Sculpture, magnified.]

[Illustration: Fig. 15.--_Conulus Priscus_, Carpenter.

(_a_) Specimen enlarged, (_b_) Sculpture, magnified.]

There are cases of geographical limitation quite as curious now. Here

again another peculiarity meets us. If these are really the oldest

land snails, it is curious that they are so small,--so much inferior

to many of their modern successors even in the same latitudes. The

climate of the coal period must have suited them, and there was plenty

of vegetable food, though perhaps not the richest or most tender.

There is no excuse for them in their outward circumstances. Why, then,

unlike so many other creatures, do they enter on existence in this

poor and sneaking way. We must here for their benefit modify in two

ways the statement broadly made in a previous chapter, that new types

come in under forms of great magnitude. First, we often have, in

advance of the main inroad of a new horde of animals, a few

insignificant stragglers as a sort of prelude to the rest--precursors

intimating beforehand what is to follow. We shall find this to be the

case with the little reptiles of the coal, and the little mammals of

the Trias, preceding the greater forms which subsequently set in.

Secondly, this seems to be more applicable in the case of land animals

then in the case of those of the waters. To the waters was the fiat to

bring forth living things issued. They have always kept to themselves

the most gigantic forms of life; and it seems as if new forms of life

entering on the land had to begin in a small way and took more time to

culminate.

The circumstances in which the first specimens of Carboniferous snails

and gally-worms were found are so peculiar and so characteristic of

the coal formation, that I must pause here to notice them, and to make

of them an introduction to the next group of creatures we have to

consider. In the coal formation in all parts of the world it is not

unusual, as stated already in a previous page, to find erect trees or

stumps of trees, usually Sigillariæ, standing where they grew; and

where the beds are exposed in coast cliffs, or road cuttings, or

mines, these fossil trees can be extracted from the matrix and

examined. They usually consist of an outer cylinder of coal

representing the outer bark, while the space within, once occupied by

the inner bark and wood, is filled with sandstone, sometimes roughly

arranged in layers, the lowest of which is usually mixed with coaly

matter or mineral charcoal derived from the fallen remains of the

decayed wood, a kind of deposit which affords to the fossil botanist

one of the best modes of investigating the tissues of these trees.

These fossil stumps are not uncommon in the roofs of the coal-seams.

In some places they are known to the miners as "coal pipes," and are

dreaded by them in consequence of the accidents which occur from their

suddenly falling after the coal which supported them has been removed.

An old friend and helper of mine in Carboniferous explorations had a

lively remembrance of the fact that one of these old trees, falling

into the mine in which he was working, had crushed his leg and given

him a limp for life; and if he had been a few inches nearer to it

would have broken his back.

The manner in which such trees become fossilized may be explained as

follows:--Imagine a forest of Sigillariæ growing on a low flat. This

becomes submerged by subsidence or inundation, the soil is buried

under several feet of sand or mud, and the trees killed by this agency

stand up as bare and lifeless trunks. The waters subside, and the

trees rapidly decay, the larvæ of wood-boring insects perhaps aiding

in the process, as they now do in the American woods. The dense coaly

outer bark alone resists decomposition, and stands as a hollow

cylinder until prostrated by the wind or by the waters of another

inundation, while perhaps a second forest or jungle has sprung up on

the new surface. When it falls, the part buried in the soil becomes an

open hole, with a heap of shreds of wood and bark in the bottom. Such

a place becomes a fit retreat for gally-worms and land-snails; and

reptiles pursuing such animals, or pursued by their own enemies, or

heedlessly scrambling among the fallen trunks, may easily fall into

such holes and remain as prisoners. I remember to have observed, when

a boy, a row of post-holes dug across a pasture-field and left open

for a few days, and that in almost every hole one or two toads were

prisoners. This was the fate which must have often befallen the

smaller reptiles of the coal forests in the natural post-holes left by

the decay of the Sigillariæ. Yet it may be readily understood that the

combination of circumstances which would effect this result must have

been rare, and consequently this curious fact has been as yet observed

only in the coal formation of Nova Scotia; and in it only in one

locality, and in this in one only out of more then sixty beds in

which erect trees have been found. But these hollow trees must be

filled up in order to preserve their contents; and as inundation and

subsequent decay have been the grave-diggers for the reptiles, so

inundations filled up their graves with sand, to be subsequently

hardened into sandstone, burying up at the same time the newer

vegetation which had grown upon the former surface. The idea that

something interesting might be found in these erect stumps, first

occurred to Sir C. Lyell and the writer while exploring the beautiful

coast cliffs of Western Nova Scotia in 1851; and it was in examining

the fragments scattered on the beach that we found the bones of the

first Carboniferous reptile discovered in America, and the shell of

the oldest known land snail.

These were not, however, the earliest known instances of Carboniferous

reptiles. In 1841, Sir William Logan found footprints of a reptile at

Horton Bluff, in Nova Scotia, in rocks of Lower Carboniferous age. In

1844, Von Dechen found reptilian bones in the coal-field of Saarbruck;

and in the same year Dr. King found reptilian footprints in the

Carboniferous of Pennsylvania. Like Robinson Crusoe on his desert

island, we saw the footprints before we knew the animals that produced

them; and the fact that there were marks on a slab of shale or

sandstone that must have been made by an animal walking on feet, was

as clear and startling a revelation of the advent of a new and higher

form of life, as were the footprints of Man Friday. Within the thirty

years since the discovery of the first slab of footprints, the

knowledge of coal formation reptiles has grown apace. I can scarcely

at present sum up exactly the number of species, but may estimate it

at thirty-five at least. I must, however, here crave pardon of some of

my friends for the use of the word reptile. In my younger days frogs

and toads and newts used to be reptiles; now we are told that they are

more like fishes, and ought to be called Batrachians or Amphibians,

whereas reptiles are a higher type, more akin to birds then to these

lower and more grovelling creatures. The truth is, that the old class

Reptilia bridges over the space between the fishes and the birds, and

it is in some degree a matter of taste whether we make a strong line

at the two ends of it alone, or add another line in the middle. I

object to the latter course, however, in the period of the world's

history of which I am now writing, since I am sure that there were

animals in those days which were batrachians in some points and true

reptiles in others; while there are some of them in regard to which it

is quite uncertain whether they are nearer to the one group or the

other. Although, therefore, naturalists, with the added light and

penetration which they obtain by striding on to the Mesozoic and

Modern periods, may despise my old-fashioned grovellers among the mire

of the coal-swamps, I shall, for convenience, persist in calling them

reptiles in a general way, and shall bring out whatever claims I can

to justify this title for some of them at least.

Perhaps the most fish-like of the whole are the curious creatures from

the coal measures of Saarbruck, first found by Yon Dechen, and which

constitute the genus _Archegosaurus_. Their large heads, short necks,

supports for permanent gills, feeble limbs, and long tails for

swimming, show that they were aquatic creatures presenting many points

of resemblance to the ganoid fishes with which they must have

associated; still they were higher then these in possessing lungs and

true feet, though perhaps better adapted for swimming then even for

creeping.

From these creatures the other coal reptiles diverge, and ascend along

two lines of progress, the one leading to gigantic crocodile-like

animals provided with powerful jaws and teeth, and probably haunting

the margins of the waters and preying on fishes; the other leading to

small and delicate lizard-like species, with well-developed limbs,

large ribs, and ornate horny scales and spines, living on land and

feeding on insects and similar creatures.

[Illustration: Fig. 16.--RESTORATIONS OF BAPHETES, DENDRERPETON.

HYLONOMUS, AND HYLERPETON, WITH CARBONIFEROUS PLANTS IN THE DISTANCE.]

In the first direction we have a considerable number of species found

in the Jarrow coal-field in Ireland, and described by Professor

Huxley. Some of them were like snakes in their general form, others

more like lizards. Still higher stand such animals as _Baphetes_ and

_Eosaurus_ from the Nova Scotia coal-field and _Anthracosaurus_ from

that of Scotland. The style and habits of these creatures it is easy

to understand, however much haggling the comparative anatomists may

make over their bones. They were animals of various size, ranging

from a foot to at least ten feet in length, the body generally

lizard-like in form, with stout limbs and a flattened tail useful in

swimming. Their heads were flat, stout, and massive, with large teeth,

strengthened by the insertion and convolution of plates of enamel. The

fore limbs were probably larger then the hind limbs, the better to

enable them to raise themselves out of the water. The belly was

strengthened by bony plates and closely imbricated scales, to resist,

perhaps, the attacks of fishes from beneath, and to enable them

without injury to drag their heavy bodies over trunks of trees and

brushwood, whether in the water or on the land. Their general aspect

and mode of life were therefore by no means unlike those of modern

alligators; and in the vast swamps of the coal measures, full of ponds

and sluggish streams swarming with fish, such creatures must have

found a most suitable habitat, and probably existed in great numbers,

basking on the muddy banks, surging through the waters, and filling

the air with their bellowings. The most curious point about these

creatures is, that while rigid anatomy regards them as allied in

structure more to frogs and toads and newts then to true lizards, it

is obvious to common sense that they were practically crocodiles; and

even anatomy must admit that their great ribs and breastplates, and

powerful teeth and limbs, indicate a respiration, circulation, and

general vitality, quite as high as those of the proper reptiles.

Hence, it happens that very different views are stated as to their

affinities; questions into which we need not now enter, satisfied with

the knowledge of the general appearance and mode of life of these

harbingers of the reptilian life of the succeeding geological periods.

In the other direction, we find several animals of small size but

better developed limbs, leading to a group of graceful little

creatures, quite as perplexing with regard to affinities as those

first mentioned, but tending towards the smaller lizards of the

modern world. At the top of these I may place the genus _Hylonomus_

from hollow fossil trees of Nova Scotia, of which two species are

represented as restored in our illustration. In these restorations I

have adhered as faithfully as possible to the proportions of parts as

seen in my specimens. Imagine a little animal six or seven inches

long, with small short head, not so flat as those of most lizards, but

with a raised fore-head, giving it an aspect of some intelligence. Its

general form is that of a lizard, but with the hind feet somewhat

large, to aid it in leaping and standing erect, and long and flexible

toes. Its belly is covered with bony scales, its sides with bright and

probably coloured scale armour of horny consistency, and its neck and

back adorned with horny crests, tubercles, and pendants. It runs,

leaps, and glides through the herbage of the coal forests, intent on

the pursuit of snails and insects, its eye glancing and its bright

scales shining in the sun. This is a picture of the best known species

of Hylonomus drawn from the life. Yet the anatomist, when he examines

the imperfectly-ossified joints of its backbone, and the double joint

at the back of its skull, will tell you that it is after all little

better then a mere newt, an ass in a lion's skin, a jackdaw with

borrowed feathers, and that it has no right to have fine scales, or to

be able to run on the land. It may be so; but I may plead in its

behalf, that in the old coal times, when reptiles with properly-made

skeletons had not been created, the next best animals may have been

entitled to wear their clothes and to assume their functions as well.

In short, functionally or officially, our ancient batrachians were

reptiles; in point of rank, as measured by type of skeleton, they

belonged to a lower grade. To this view of the case I think most

naturalists will agree, and they will also admit that the progress of

our views has been in this direction, since the first discovery of

Carboniferous air-breathing vertebrates. In evidence of this I may

quote from Professor Huxley's description of his recently found

species,[O] After noticing the prevalent views that the coal reptiles

were of low organization, he says: "Discoveries in the Nova Scotia

coal-fields first shook this view, which ceased to be tenable when the

great _Anthracosaurus_ of the Scotch coal-field was found to have

well-ossified biconcave vertebrae."

[O] _Geological Magazine_, vol. iii.

The present writer may, however, be suspected of a tendency to extend

forms of life backward in time, since it has fallen to his lot to be

concerned in this process of stretching backward in several cases. He

has named and described the oldest known animal. He has described the

oldest true exogen, and the oldest known pine-tree. He was concerned

in the discovery of the oldest known land snails, and found the oldest

millipedes. He has just described the oldest bituminous bed composed

of spore-cases, and he claims that his genus Hylonomus includes the

oldest animals which have a fair claim to be considered reptiles.

Still this discovery of old things comes rather of fortune and careful

search then of a desire to innovate; and a distinction should be drawn

between that kind of novelty which consists in the development of new

truths, and that which consists in the invention of new fancies, or

the revival of old ones. There is too much of this last at present;

and it would be a more promising line of work for our younger

naturalists, if they would patiently and honestly question nature,

instead of trying to extort astounding revelations by throwing her on

the rack of their own imaginations.

We may pause here a moment to contemplate the greatness of the fact we

have been studying the introduction into our world of the earliest

known vertebrate animals which could open their nostrils and literally

"breathe the breath of life." All previous animals that we know,

except a few Devonian insects, had respired in the water by means of

gills or similar apparatus, Now we not only have the little land

snails, with their imperfect substitutes for lungs, but animals which

must have been able to draw in the vital air into capacious chambered

lungs, and with this power must have enjoyed a far higher and more

active style of vitality; and must have possessed the faculty of

uttering truly vocal sounds. What wondrous possibilities unknown to

these creatures, perhaps only dimly perceived by such rational

intelligences as may have watched the growth of our young world, were

implied in these gifts. It is one of the remarkable points in the

history of creation in Genesis, that this step of the creative work is

emphatically marked. Of all the creatures we have noticed up to this

point, it is stated that God said, "Let the waters bring them

forth"--but it is said that "God created" great reptiles

(_tanninim_).[P] No doubt these "great tanninim" culminate in the

succeeding Mesozoic age, but their first introduction dates as far

back as the Carboniferous; and this introduction was emphatically a

creation, as being the commencement of a new feature among living

beings. What further differences may be implied in the formulæ, "Let

the waters produce" and "God created," we do not know; very probably

he who wrote the words did not fully know. But if we could give a

scientific expression to this difference, and specify the cases to

which its terms apply, we might be able to solve one of the most vexed

questions of biology.

[P] Not "whales," as in our version.

Let us observe, however, that even here, where, if anywhere, we have

actual creation, especial pains are taken to bridge over the gap, and

to prevent any appearance of discontinuity in the work. The ganoid

fishes of the coal period very probably had, like their modern

congeners, well-developed air-bladders, serving to some extent, though

very imperfectly, as lungs. The humbler and more aquatic reptiles of

the period retained the gills, and also some of the other features of

the fishes; so that, like some modern creatures of their class, they

stood, as to respiration, on two stools, and seemed unwilling

altogether to commit themselves to the new mode of life in the

uncongenial element of air. Even the larger and more lizard-like of

the coal reptiles may--though this we do not certainly know, and in

some cases there are reasons for doubting it--have passed the earliest

stage of their lives in the water as gilled tadpoles, in the manner of

our modern frogs. Thus at the very point where one of the greatest

advances of animal life has its origin, we have no sudden stop, but an

inclined plane; and yet, as I have elsewhere endeavoured to show by

arguments which cannot be repeated here,[Q] we have not a shadow of

reason to conclude that, in the coal period, fishes were transmuted

into reptiles.

[Q] "Air-breathers of the Coal Period," p. 77.

But the reader may be wearied with our long sojourn in the

pestilential atmosphere of the coal swamps, and in the company of

their low-browed and squalid inhabitants. Let us turn for a little to

the sea, and notice the animal life of the great coral reefs and shell

beds preserved for us in the Carboniferous limestone. Before doing so,

one point merits attention. The coal formation for the first time

distinctly presents to us the now familiar differences in the

inhabitants of the open sea and those of creeks, estuaries and lakes.

Such distinctions are unknown to us in the Silurian. There all is sea.

They begin to appear in the Devonian, in the shallow fish-banks and

the Anodon-like bivalves found with fossil plants. In the coal period

they become very manifest. The animals found in the shales with the

coal are all, even the aquatic ones, distinct from those of the open

seas of the period. Some of them may have lived in salt or brackish

water, but not in the open sea. They are creatures of still and

shallow waters. It is true that in some coal-fields marine beds occur

in the coal measures with their characteristic fossils, but these are

quite distinct from the usual animal remains of the coal-fields, and

mark occasional overflows of the sea, owing to subsidence of the land.

It is important to notice this geographical difference, marking the

greater specialisation and division of labour, if we may so speak,

that was in the process of introduction.

The sea of the Carboniferous period presented in the main similar

great groups of animals to those of the Devonian, represented however

by different species. We may notice merely some of the salient points

of resemblance or difference. The old types of corals continue in

great force; but it is their last time, for they rapidly decay in the

succeeding Permian and disappear. The Crinoids are as numerous and

beautiful as in any other period, and here for the first time we meet

with the new and higher type of the sea-urchin, in large and beautiful

species. One curious group, that of the _Pentremites_, a sort of

larval form, is known here alone. Among the lamp-shells we may note,

as peculiarly and abundantly Carboniferous, those with one valve very

convex and the other very concave and anchored in the mud by long

spines instead of a peduncle attached to stones and rocks.[R] There

are many beautiful shells allied to modern scallops, and not a few

sea-snails of various sorts. The grand _Orthoceratites_ of the

Silurian diminish in size preparatory to their disappearance in the

Permian, and the more modern type of _Nautilus_ and its allies becomes

prevalent. Among the Crustaceans we may notice the appearance of the

_Limulus_, or king-crab, of which the single little species described

by Woodward from the Upper Silurian may be regarded as merely a

prophecy. It is curious that the Carboniferous king-crabs are very

small, apparently another case of a new form appearing in humble

guise; but as the young of modern king-crabs haunt creeks and swampy

flats, while the adults live in the sea, it may be that only the young

of the Carboniferous species are yet known to us, the specimens found

being mostly in beds likely to be frequented by the young rather then

by the full-grown individuals.

[R] The Productidæ.

The old order of the Trilobites, which has accompanied us from

Primordial times, here fails us, and a few depauperated species alone

remain, the sole survivors of their ancient race--small, unornamented,

and feeble representatives of a once numerous and influential tribe.

How strange that a group of creatures so numerous and apparently so

well adapted to conditions of existence which still continue in the

sea, should thus die out, while the little bivalved crustaceans, which

began life almost as far back and lived on the same sea-floors with

the Trilobites, should still abound in all our seas; and while the

king-crabs, of precisely similar habits with the Trilobites, should

apparently begin to prosper. Equally strange is the fate of the great

swimming Eurypterids which we saw in the Devonian. They also continue,

but in diminished force, in the Carboniferous, and there lay down for

ever their well-jointed cuirasses and formidable weapons, while a few

little shrimp-like creatures, their contemporaries, form the small

point of the wedge of our great tribes of squillas and crabs and

lobsters. Some years ago the late lamented palæontologist, Salter, a

man who scarcely leaves his equal in his department, in conjunction

with Mr. Henry Woodward, prepared a sort of genealogical chart of the

Crustacea on which these facts are exhibited. Some new species have

since been discovered, and a little additional light about affinities

has been obtained; but taken as it stands, the history of the

Crustacea as there shown in one glance, has in it more teaching on the

philosophy of creation then I have been able to find in many ponderous

quartos of tenfold its pretensions. Had Salter been enabled, with the

aid of other specialists like Woodward, to complete similar charts of

other classes of invertebrate animals, scientific palaeontology in

England would have been further advanced then it is likely to be in

the next ten years.

To return to our Trilobites: one of the most remarkable points in

their history is their appearance in full force in the Primordial. In

these rocks we have some of the largest in size--some species of

Paradoxides being nearly two feet long, and some of the very smallest.

We have some with the most numerous joints, others with the fewest;

some with very large tails, others with very small; some with no

ornamentation, others very ornate; some with large eyes, others with

none that have been made out, though it is scarcely probable that they

were wholly blind. They increased in numbers and variety through the

Silurian and Devonian, and then suddenly drop off at the end of the

Lower Carboniferous. Throughout their whole term of existence they

kept rigidly to that type of the mud-plough which the king-crab still

retains, and which renders the anterior extremity so different from

that of the ordinary Crustacea. They constitute one of the few cases

in which we seem to see before us the whole history of an animal type;

and the more we look into that history, the more do we wonder at their

inscrutable introduction, the unity and variety mingled in their

progress, and their strange and apparently untimely end. I have

already referred (page 95) to the use which Barrande makes of this as

an argument against theories of evolution; but must refer to his work

for the details.

One word more I must say before leaving their graves. I have reason to

believe that they were not only the diggers of the burrows, and of

the ladder-tracks and pitted tracks[S] of the Silurian and

Primordial, but that with the strokes of their rounded or spinous

tails, the digging of their snouts, and the hoe-work of their hard

upper lips, or Hypostomes, they made nearly all those strange marks in

the Primordial mud which have been referred to fucoids, and even to

higher plants. The Trilobites worked over all the mud bottoms of the

Primordial, even in places where no remains of them occur, and the

peculiarities of the markings which they left are to be explained only

by a consideration of the structures of individual species.

[S] _Climactichnites_ and _Protichnites_.

I had almost lost sight of the fishes of the Carboniferous period, but

after saying so much of those of the Devonian, it would be unfair to

leave their successors altogether unnoticed. In the Carboniferous we

lose those broad-snouted plate-covered species that form so

conspicuous a feature in the Devonian; and whatever its meaning, it is

surely no accident that these mud-burrowing fishes should decay along

with those crustacean mud-burrowers, the Trilobites. But swarms of

fishes remain, confined, as in the Devonian, wholly to the two orders

of the Gar-fishes (_Ganoids_) and the sharks (_Placoids_). In the

former we have a multitude of small and beautiful species haunting the

creeks and ponds of the coal swamps, and leaving vast quantities of

their remains in the shaly and even coaly beds formed in such places.

Such were the pretty, graceful fishes of the genera _Palæoniscus_ and

_Amblypterus_. Pursuing and feeding on these were larger ganoids,

armed with strong bony scales, and formidable conical or sharp-edged

teeth. Of these were _Rhizodus_ and _Acrolepis_. There were besides

multitudes of sharks whose remains consist almost wholly of their

teeth and spines, their cartilaginous skeletons having perished. One

group was allied to the few species of modern sharks whose mouths are

paved with flat teeth for crushing shells. These were the most

abundant sharks of the Carboniferous--slow and greedy monsters,

haunting shell banks and coral reefs, and grinding remorselessly all

the shell-fishes that came in their way. There were also sharks

furnished with sharp and trenchant teeth, which must have been the

foes of the smaller mailed fishes, pursuing them into creeks and muddy

shallows; and if we may judge from the quantity of their remains in

some of these places, sometimes perishing in their eager efforts. On

the whole, the fishes of the Carboniferous were, in regard to their

general type, a continuation of those of the Devonian, but the sharks

and the scaly ganoids were relatively more numerous. They differed

from our modern fishes in the absence of the ordinary horny-scaled

type to which all our more common fishes belong, and in the prevalence

of that style of tail which has been termed "heterocercal," in which

the continuation of the backbone forms the upper lobe of the tail, a

style which, if we may judge from modern examples, gives more power of

upward and downward movement, and is especially suitable to fishes

which search for food only at the bottom, or only above the surface of

the waters.

Most reluctantly I must here leave one of the most remarkable periods

of the world's history, and reserve to our next chapter the summation

of the history of the older world of life in its concluding stage, the

Permian.

The Story of the Earth and Man · 第 6 / 15 章