CHAPTER I.

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_THE CENTURY SCIENCE SERIES_

EDITED BY SIR HENRY E. ROSCOE, D.C.L., LL.D., F.R.S.

CHARLES LYELL

AND MODERN GEOLOGY

The Century Science Series.

EDITED BY

SIR HENRY E. ROSCOE, D.C.L., F.R.S., M.P.

* * * * *

=John Dalton and the Rise of Modern Chemistry.=

By Sir HENRY E. ROSCOE, F.R.S.

=Major Rennell, F.R.S., and the Rise of English Geography.=

By CLEMENTS R. MARKHAM, C.B., F.R.S., President of the Royal

Geographical Society.

=Justus von Liebig: his Life and Work (1803-1873).=

By W. A. SHENSTONE, F.I.C., Lecturer on Chemistry in

Clifton College.

=The Herschels and Modern Astronomy.=

By AGNES M. CLERKE, Author of "A Popular History

of Astronomy during the 19th Century," &c.

=Charles Lyell and Modern Geology.=

By Rev. Professor T. G. BONNEY, F.R.S.

=Clerk Maxwell and Modern Physics.=

By R. T. GLAZEBROOK, F.R.S., Fellow of Trinity College,

Cambridge.

_In Preparation._

=Michael Faraday: his Life and Work.=

By Professor SILVANUS P. THOMPSON, F.R.S.

=Humphry Davy.=

By T. E. THORPE, F.R.S., Principal Chemist of the

Government Laboratories.

=Pasteur: his Life and Work.=

By M. ARMAND RUFFER, M.D., Director of the British

Institute of Preventive Medicine.

=Charles Darwin and the Origin of Species.=

By EDWARD B. POULTON, M.A., F.R.S., Hope Professor

of Zoology in the University of Oxford.

=Hermann von Helmholtz.=

By A. W. RUeCKER, F.R.S., Professor of Physics in the

Royal College of Science, London.

CASSELL & COMPANY, LIMITED, _London; Paris & Melbourne_

[Illustration: HW: Charles Lyell]

_THE CENTURY SCIENCE SERIES_

CHARLES LYELL

AND MODERN GEOLOGY

BY

PROF. T. G. BONNEY

D.SC., LL.D., F.R.S., ETC.

New York

MACMILLAN & CO.

1895

PREFACE.

The life of Charles Lyell is singularly free from "moving accidents by

flood and field." Though he travelled much, he never, so far as can be

ascertained, was in danger of life or limb, of brigand or beast. At home

his career was not hampered by serious difficulties or blocked by

formidable obstacles; not a few circumstances were distinctly favourable

to success. Thus his biography cannot offer the reader either the

excitement of adventure, or the interest of an unwearied struggle with

adverse conditions. But for all that, as it seems to me, it can teach a

lesson of no little value. Lyell, while still a young man, determined

that he would endeavour to put geology--then only beginning to rank as a

science--on a more sound and philosophical basis. To accomplish this

purpose, he spared no labour, grudged no expenditure, shrank from no

fatigue. For years he was training himself by observation and travel; he

was studiously aiming at precision of thought and expression, till "The

Principles of Geology" had been completed and published. But even then,

though he might have counted his work done, he spared no pains to make

it better, and went on at the task of improvement till the close of his

long life.

My chief aim, in writing this little volume, has been to bring out this

lesson as strongly and as clearly as possible. I have striven to show

how Charles Lyell studied, how he worked, how he accumulated

observations, how each journey had its definite purposes. Accordingly, I

have often given his words in preference to any phrases of my own, and

have quoted freely from his letters, diaries, and books, because I

wished to show exactly how things presented themselves to his eyes, and

how ideas were maturing in his mind. Regarded in this light, Lyell's

life becomes an apologue, setting forth the beneficial results of

concentrating the whole energy on one definite object, and the moral

grandeur of a calm, judicial, truth-seeking spirit.

In writing the following pages I have, of course, mainly drawn upon the

"Life, Letters, and Journals," edited by Mrs. Lyell; but I have also

made use of his books, especially the "Principles of Geology," and the

two tours in North America. I am under occasional obligations to the

excellent life, contributed by Professor G. A. J. Cole to the

"Dictionary of National Biography," and have to thank my friend

Professor J. W. Judd for some important details which he had learnt

through his intimacy with the veteran geologist. He also kindly lent the

engraving (executed in America from a daguerreotype) which has been

copied for the frontispiece of this volume.

T. G. BONNEY.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER PAGE

I.--CHILDHOOD AND SCHOOLDAYS 9

II.--UNDERGRADUATE DAYS 19

III.--THE GROWTH OF A PURPOSE 27

IV.--THE PURPOSE DEVELOPED AND ACCOMPLISHED 44

V.--THE HISTORY AND PLACE IN SCIENCE OF THE

"PRINCIPLES OF GEOLOGY" 73

VI.--EIGHT YEARS OF QUIET PROGRESS 100

VII.--GEOLOGICAL WORK IN NORTH AMERICA 130

VIII.--ANOTHER EPOCH OF WORK AND TRAVEL 152

IX.--STEADY PROGRESS 168

X.--THE ANTIQUITY OF MAN 184

XI.--THE EVENING OF LIFE 189

XII.--SUMMARY 206

CHARLES LYELL AND MODERN GEOLOGY.

CHAPTER I.

CHILDHOOD AND SCHOOLDAYS.

Caledonia, stern and wild, may be called "meet nurse" of geologists as

well as of poets. Among the most remarkable of the former is Charles

Lyell, who was born in Forfarshire on November 14th, 1797, at Kinnordy,

the family mansion. His father, who also bore the name of Charles,[1]

was both a lover of natural history and a man of high culture. He took

an interest at one time in entomology, but abandoned this for botany,

devoting himself more especially to the study of the cryptogams. Of

these he discovered several new species, besides some other plants

previously unknown in the British flora, and he contributed the article

on Lichens to Smith's "English Botany." More than one species was named

after him, as well as a genus of mosses, _Lyellia_, which is chiefly

found in the Himalayas. Later in his life, science, on the whole, was

supplanted by literature, and he became engrossed in the study of the

works of Dante, of some of whose poems[2] he published translations and

notes. Thus the geologist and author is an instance of "hereditary

genius."

Charles was the eldest of a family of ten--three sons and seven

daughters, all of whom grew up. Their mother was English, the daughter

of Thomas Smith, of Maker Hall in Yorkshire, "a woman of strong sense

and tender anxiety for her children's welfare." "The front of heaven,"

as Lyell has written in a fragment of autobiography, was not "full of

fiery shapes at his nativity," but the season was so exceptionally warm

that his mother's bedroom-window was kept open all the night--an

appropriate birth-omen for the geologist, who had a firmer faith than

some of his successors in the value of work in the open air. He has put

on record only two characteristics of his infancy, and as these can

hardly be personal recollections, we may assume them to have been

sufficiently marked to impress others. One if not both was wholly

physical. He was very late in cutting his teeth, not a single one having

appeared in the first twelvemonth, and the hardness of his infant gums

caused an old wife to prognosticate that he would be edentulous. Also,

his lungs were so vigorous and so habitually exercised that he was

pronounced "the loudest and most indefatigable squaller of all the brats

of Angus."

The geologist who so emphatically affirmed the necessity of travel,

early became an unconscious practiser of his own precept. When he was

three months old his parents went from Kinnordy to Inveraray, whence

they journeyed to the south of England, as far as Ilfracombe. From this

place they removed to Weymouth and thence to Southampton. More than a

year must have been thus spent, for their second child--also a son--was

born at the last-named town. Mr. Lyell, the father, now took a lease of

Bartley Lodge, on the New Forest--some half-dozen miles west of

Southampton, where the family lived for twenty-eight years. His mother

and sisters also left Kinnordy, and rented a house in Southampton. Their

frequent excursions to Bartley Lodge, as Lyell observes, were always

welcome to the children, for they never came empty-handed.

Kinnordy, however, was visited from time to time in the summer, and on

one of these occasions, when Charles was in his fifth year, some of the

family had a narrow escape. They were about a stage and a half from

Edinburgh; the parents and the two boys in one carriage; two nursemaids,

the cook, and the two youngest children, sisters, in a chaise behind.

The horses of this took fright on a narrow part of the road and upset

the carriage over a very steep slope. Fortunately all escaped unhurt,

except one of the maids, whose arm was cut by the splintered glass. The

parents ran to the rescue. "Meanwhile, Tom and I were left in the

carriage. We thought it fine pastime, and I am accused of having

prompted Tom to assist in plundering the pockets of the carriage of all

the buns and other eatables, which we demolished with great speed for

fear of interruption."[3] This adventure, however, was not quite his

earliest reminiscence; for that was learning the alphabet when he was

about three years old.

Charles was kept at home till he had nearly completed his eighth year,

when he was sent with his brother Tom to a boarding-school at Ringwood.

The master was the Rev. R. S. Davies; the lads were some fifty in

number, the Lyells being about the youngest. They seem, however, not to

have been ill-treated, though their companions were rather a rough lot,

and they were petted by the schoolmaster's daughter. The most

sensational incident of his stay at Ringwood was a miniature "town and

gown" row, a set fight between the lads of the place and of the school,

from which, however, the Lyells were excluded as too young to share in

the joys and the perils of war. But the fray was brought to a rather

premature conclusion by the joint intervention of foreign powers--the

masters of the school and the tradesmen of the town. In those days

smuggling was rife on the south coast, and acting the part of revenue

officers and contrabandists was a favourite school game; doubtless the

more popular because it afforded a legitimate pretext for something like

a fight. The fear of a French invasion also kept this part of England on

the _qui vive_, and Lyell well remembered the excitement caused by a

false alarm that the enemy had landed. He further recollected the

mingled joy and sorrow which were caused by the victory of Trafalgar and

the death of Nelson.

The brothers remained at Ringwood only for about two years, for neither

the society nor the instruction could be called first-class; and they

were sent, after a rather long holiday at home, to another school of

about the same size, but much higher character, in Salisbury. The

master, Dr. Radcliffe, an Oxford man, was a good classical scholar, and

his pupils came from the best families in that part of England. In one

respect, the young Lyells found it a change for the worse. At Ringwood

they had an ample playground, close to which was the Avon, gliding clear

and cool to the sea, a delightful place for a bathe. In a few minutes'

walk from the town they were among pleasant lanes; in a short time they

could reach the border of the New Forest. But at Salisbury the school

was in the heart of the town, its playground a small yard surrounded by

walls, and, as he says, "we only walked out twice or three times in a

week, when it did not rain, and were obliged to keep in ranks along the

endless streets and dusty roads of the suburbs of a city. It seemed a

kind of prison by comparison, especially to me, accustomed to liberty in

such a wild place as the New Forest." One can sympathise with his

feelings, for a procession of schoolboys, walking two and two along the

streets of a town, is a dreary spectacle.

But an occasional holiday brought some comfort, for then they were sent

on a longer excursion. The favourite one was to the curious earthworks

of Old Sarum, then in its glory as a "rotten borough," one alehouse,

with its tea-gardens attached, sending two members to Parliament. On

these excursions more liberty seems to have been permitted. The boys

broke up the large flints that lay all about the ground, to find in them

cavities lined with chalcedony or drusy crystals of quartz. But the

chief interest centred around a mysterious excavation in the earthwork,

"a deep, long subterranean tunnel, said to have been used by the

garrison to get water from a river in the plain below." To this all

new-comers were taken to listen to the tale of its enormous depth and

subterranean pool. Then, when duly overawed, they felt their hats fly

off their heads and saw them rolling out of sight down the tunnel. An

interval followed of blank dismay, embittered, no doubt, by dismal

anticipations of what would probably happen when they got back to the

school-house. Then one of the older boys volunteered to act the sybil

and lead the way to the nether world. Of course they "regained their

felt and felt what they regained"--literally, for the hole was dark

enough, though we may set down the "many hundred yards" (which Lyell

says that he descended before he recovered his lost hat) as an instance

of the permanent effect of a boyish illusion on even a scientific mind.

But the restrictions of Salisbury made the liberty of the New Forest yet

more dear. Bartley was an ideal home for boys. It was surrounded by

meadows and park-like timber. A two-mile walk brought the lads to Rufus

Stone, and on the wilder parts of the Forest. There they could ramble

over undulating moors, covered with heath and fern, diversified by

marshy tracts, sweet with bog-myrtle, or by patches of furze, golden in

season with flowers; or they could wander beneath the shadows of its

great woods of oak and beech, over the rustling leaves, among the

flickering lights and shadows, winding here and there among tufts of

holly scrub, always led on by the hope of some novelty--a rare insect

fluttering by, a lizard or a snake gliding into the fern, strange birds

circling in the air, a pheasant or even a woodcock springing up almost

under the feet. The rabbits scampered to their holes among the furze; a

fox now and again stole silently away to cover, or a stag--for the deer

had not yet been destroyed--was espied among the tall brake. Those, too,

it must be remembered, were the days when boys got their holidays in the

prime of the summer, at the season of haymaking and of ripe

strawberries. They were not kept stewing in hot school-rooms all through

July, until the flowers are nearly over and the bright green of the

foliage is dulled, until the romance of the summer's youth has given

place to the dulness of its middle age. In these days it is our pleasure

to do the right thing in the wrong place--a truly national

characteristic. We all--young and old--toil through the heat and the

long days, and take holiday when the autumn is drawing nigh and Nature

writes "Ichabod" on the beauty of the waning year.

At Salisbury, Lyell had two new experiences--the sorrows of the Latin

Grammar and the joys of a bolster-fight. But his health was not good; a

severe attack of measles in the first year was followed in the second by

a general "breakdown," with symptoms of weakness of the lungs. So he was

taken home for three months to recruit. This was at first a welcome

change from the restrictions of Salisbury; but, as his lessons

necessarily were light, he began to mope for want of occupation; for, as

he says, "I was always most exceedingly miserable if unemployed, though

I had an excessive aversion to work unless forced to it." So he began to

collect insects--a pursuit which, as he remarks, exactly suited him, for

it was rather desultory, gave employment to both mind and body, and

gratified the "collecting" instinct, which is strong in most boys. He

began with the lepidoptera, but before long took an interest in other

insects, especially the aquatic. Fortunately his father had been for a

time a collector, and possessed some good books on entomology, from the

pictures in which Charles named his captures. This was, of course, an

unscientific method, but it taught him to recognise the species and to

know their habits. There are few better localities for lepidoptera, as

every collector knows, than the New Forest, and some of the schoolboy's

"finds" afterwards proved welcome to so well known an entomologist as

Curtis. But when Charles returned to school he had to lay aside, for a

season, the new hobby; for in those days a schoolboy's interest in

natural history did not extend beyond birds'-nesting, and his little

world was not less, perhaps even more frank and demonstrative than now,

in its criticism of any innovation or peculiarity on the part of one of

its members.

The school at Salisbury appears to have been a preparatory one, so

before very long another had to be sought. Mr. Lyell wished to send his

two boys to Winchester, but found to his disappointment that there would

not be a vacancy for a couple of years; so after instructing them at

home for six months, he contented himself with the Grammar School at

Midhurst, in Sussex, at the head of which was one Dr. Bayley, formerly

an under-master at Winchester. Charles, now in his thirteenth year,

found this, at first, a great change. The school contained about seventy

boys, big as well as little, and its general system resembled that of

one of the great public schools. He remarks of this period of his life:

"Whatever some may say or sing of the happy recollections of their

schooldays, I believe the generality, if they told the truth, would not

like to have them over again, or would consider them as less happy than

those which follow." He was not the kind of boy to find the life of a

public school very congenial. Evidently he was a quietly-disposed lad,

caring more for a country ramble than for games; perhaps a little

old-fashioned in his ways; not pugnacious, but preferring a quiet life

to the trouble of self-assertion. So, in his second half-year, when he

was left to shift entirely for himself, his life was "not a happy one,"

for a good deal of the primeval savage lingers in the boys of a

civilised race. It required, as he said, a good deal to work him up to

the point of defending his independence; thus he was deemed incapable of

resistance and was plagued accordingly. But at last he turned upon a

tormentor, and a fight was the result. It was of Homeric proportions,

for it lasted two days, during five or six hours on each, the combatants

being pretty evenly matched; for though Lyell's adversary was rather the

smaller and weaker, he knew better how to use his fists. Strength at the

end prevailed over science, though both parties were about equally

damaged. The vanquished pugilist was put to bed, being sorely bruised in

the visible parts. Lyell, whose hurts were mostly hidden, made light of

them, by the advice of friends, but he owns that he ached in every bone

for a week, and was black and blue all over his body. Still he had not

fought in vain, for, though the combat won him little honour, it

delivered him from sundry tormentors.

The educational system of the school stimulated his ambition to rise in

the classes. "By this feeling," he says, "much of my natural antipathy

to work, and extreme absence of mind, was conquered in a great measure,

and I acquired habits of attention which, however, were very painful to

me, and only sustained when I had an object in view." There was an

annual speech-day, and Charles, on the first occasion, obtained a prize

for his performance. "Every year afterwards," he continues, "I received

invariably a prize for speaking, until high enough to carry off the

prizes for Latin and English original composition. My inventive talents

were not quick, but to have any is so rare a qualification that it is

sure to obtain a boy at our great schools (and afterwards as an author)

some distinction." Evidently he gave proofs of originality beyond his

fellows; since he won a prize for English verse, though he had written

in the metre of the "Lady of the Lake" instead of the ordinary

ten-syllabic rhyme. On another occasion he commemorated, in his weekly

Latin copy, the destruction of the rats in a neighbouring pond, writing

in mock heroics, after the style of Homer's battle of the frogs and

mice.

The school, like all other collections of boys, had its epidemic

hobbies. The game of draughts, coupled unfortunately with gambling on a

small scale, was followed by chess, and that by music. To each of these

Charles was more or less a victim, and his progress up the school was

not thereby accelerated. Birds'-nesting also had a turn in its season.

His love for natural history made him so keen in this pursuit that he

became an expert climber of trees. But his schooldays on the whole were

uneventful, and he went to Oxford at a rather early age, his brother Tom

having already left Midhurst in order to enter the Navy.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Born 1767, died 1849 (also son of a Charles Lyell); educated at St.

Andrew's and at St. Peter's College, Cambridge, where he proceeded to

the degree of B.A. in 1791 and M.A. in 1794.

[2] In 1835, the _Canzoniere_, including the _Vita Nuova and Convito_; a

second edition was published in 1842; in 1845 a translation of the

Lyrical Poems of Dante.

[3] Life, Letters, and Journals, vol. i. p. 3.

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