earth, consequently those solid parts have been formed after the ocean
was inhabited by those animals which are proper to that fluid medium.
If, therefore, we knew the natural history of these solid parts, and
could trace the operations of the globe by which they have been formed,
we would have some means for computing the time through which those
species of animals have continued to live. But how shall we describe a
process which nobody has seen performed and of which no written history
gives any account? This is only to be investigated, first, in examining
the nature of those solid bodies the history of which we want to know;
and, secondly, in examining the natural operations of the globe, in
order to see if there now exist such operations as, from the nature of
the solid bodies, appear to have been necessary for their formation.
"There are few beds of marble or limestone in which may not be found
some of those objects which indicate the marine object of the mass. If,
for example, in a mass of marble taken from a quarry upon the top of the
Alps or Andes there shall be found one cockle-shell or piece of coral,
it must be concluded that this bed of stone has been originally formed
at the bottom of the sea, as much as another bed which is evidently
composed almost altogether of cockle-shells and coral. If one bed of
limestone is thus found to have been of marine origin, every concomitant
bed of the same kind must be also concluded to have been formed in the
same manner.
"In those calcareous strata, which are evidently of marine origin,
there are many parts which are of sparry structure--that is to say, the
original texture of those beds in such places has been dissolved, and a
new structure has been assumed which is peculiar to a certain state of
the calcareous earth. This change is produced by crystallization, in
consequence of a previous state of fluidity, which has so disposed
the concerting parts as to allow them to assume a regular shape and
structure proper to that substance. A body whose external form has
been modified by this process is called a CRYSTAL; one whose internal
arrangement of parts is determined by it is said to be of a SPARRY
STRUCTURE, and this is known from its fracture.
"There are, in all the regions of the earth, huge masses of calcareous
matter in that crystalline form or sparry state in which, perhaps, no
vestige can be found of any organized body, nor any indication that such
calcareous matter has belonged to animals; but as in other masses this
sparry structure or crystalline state is evidently assumed by the marine
calcareous substances in operations which are natural to the globe,
and which are necessary to the consolidation of the strata, it does not
appear that the sparry masses in which no figured body is formed
have been originally different from other masses, which, being only
crystallized in part, and in part still retaining their original form,
have ample evidence of their marine origin.
"We are led, in this manner, to conclude that all the strata of the
earth, not only those consisting of such calcareous masses, but others
superincumbent upon these, have had their origin at the bottom of the
sea.
"The general amount of our reasoning is this, that nine-tenths, perhaps,
or ninety-nine-hundredths, of this earth, so far as we see, have been
formed by natural operations of the globe in collecting loose materials
and depositing them at the bottom of the sea; consolidating those
collections in various degrees, and either elevating those consolidated
masses above the level on which they were formed or lowering the level
of that sea.
"Let us now consider how far the other proposition of strata being
elevated by the power of heat above the level of the sea may be
confirmed from the examination of natural appearances. The strata formed
at the bottom of the ocean are necessarily horizontal in their position,
or nearly so, and continuous in their horizontal direction or extent.
They may be changed and gradually assume the nature of each other, so
far as concerns the materials of which they are formed, but there cannot
be any sudden change, fracture, or displacement naturally in the body
of a stratum. But if the strata are cemented by the heat of fusion,
and erected with an expansive power acting below, we may expect to find
every species of fracture, dislocation, and contortion in those bodies
and every degree of departure from a horizontal towards a vertical
position.
"The strata of the globe are actually found in every possible position:
for from horizontal they are frequently found vertical; from continuous
they are broken and separated in every possible direction; and from a
plane they are bent and doubled. It is impossible that they could have
originally been formed, by the known laws of nature, in their present
state and position; and the power that has been necessarily required
for their change has not been inferior to that which might have been
required for their elevation from the place in which they have been
formed."(2)
From all this, therefore, Hutton reached the conclusion that the
elevation of the bodies of land above the water on the earth's surface
had been effected by the same force which had acted in consolidating the
strata and giving them stability. This force he conceived to be exerted
by the expansion of heated matter.
"We have," he said, "been now supposing that the beginning of our
present earth had been laid in the bottom of the ocean, at the
completion of the former land, but this was only for the sake of
distinctness. The just view is this, that when the former land of the
globe had been complete, so as to begin to waste and be impaired by
the encroachment of the sea, the present land began to appear above the
surface of the ocean. In this manner we suppose a due proportion to be
always preserved of land and water upon the surface of the globe, for
the purpose of a habitable world such as this which we possess. We
thus also allow time and opportunity for the translation of animals and
plants to occupy the earth.
"But if the earth on which we live began to appear in the ocean at
the time when the LAST began to be resolved, it could not be from the
materials of the continent immediately preceding this which we examine
that the present earth has been constructed; for the bottom of the ocean
must have been filled with materials before land could be made to appear
above its surface.
"Let us suppose that the continent which is to succeed our land is at
present beginning to appear above the water in the middle of the Pacific
Ocean; it must be evident that the materials of this great body, which
is formed and ready to be brought forth, must have been collected from
the destruction of an earth which does not now appear. Consequently,
in this true statement of the case there is necessarily required the
destruction of an animal and vegetable earth prior to the former land;
and the materials of that earth which is first in our account must have
been collected at the bottom of the ocean, and begun to be concocted for
the production of the present earth, when the land immediately preceding
the present had arrived at its full extent.
"We have now got to the end of our reasoning; we have no data further
to conclude immediately from that which actually is; but we have got
enough; we have the satisfaction to find that in nature there are
wisdom, system, and consistency. For having in the natural history of
the earth seen a succession of worlds, we may from this conclude that
there is a system in nature; in like manner as, from seeing revolutions
of the planets, it is concluded that there is a system by which they are
intended to continue those revolutions. But if the succession of worlds
is established in the system of nature, it is in vain to look for
anything higher in the origin of the earth. The result, therefore,
of our present inquiry is that we find no vestige of a beginning--no
prospect of an end."
Altogether remarkable as this paper seems in the light of later
knowledge, neither friend nor foe deigned to notice it at the moment.
It was not published in book form until the last decade of the century,
when Hutton had lived with and worked over his theory for almost fifty
years. Then it caught the eye of the world. A school of followers
expounded the Huttonian doctrines; a rival school under Werner in
Germany opposed some details of the hypothesis, and the educated world
as a whole viewed the disputants askance. The very novelty of the new
views forbade their immediate acceptance. Bitter attacks were made upon
the "heresies," and that was meant to be a soberly tempered judgment
which in 1800 pronounced Hutton's theories "not only hostile to sacred
history, but equally hostile to the principles of probability, to the
results of the ablest observations on the mineral kingdom, and to the
dictates of rational philosophy." And all this because Hutton's theory
presupposed the earth to have been in existence more than six thousand
years.
Thus it appears that though the thoughts of men had widened, in those
closing days of the eighteenth century, to include the stars, they had
not as yet expanded to receive the most patent records that are written
everywhere on the surface of the earth. Before Hutton's views could be
accepted, his pivotal conception that time is long must be established
by convincing proofs. The evidence was being gathered by William Smith,
Cuvier, and other devotees of the budding science of paleontology in
the last days of the century, but their labors were not brought to
completion till a subsequent epoch.
NEPTUNISTS VERSUS PLUTONISTS
In the mean time, James Hutton's theory that continents wear away and
are replaced by volcanic upheaval gained comparatively few adherents.
Even the lucid Illustrations of the Huttonian Theory, which Playfair,
the pupil and friend of the great Scotchman, published in 1802, did not
at once prove convincing. The world had become enamoured of the rival
theory of Hutton's famous contemporary, Werner of Saxony--the theory
which taught that "in the beginning" all the solids of the earth's
present crust were dissolved in the heated waters of a universal sea.
Werner affirmed that all rocks, of whatever character, had been formed
by precipitation from this sea as the waters cooled; that even veins
have originated in this way; and that mountains are gigantic crystals,
not upheaved masses. In a word, he practically ignored volcanic action,
and denied in toto the theory of metamorphosis of rocks through the
agency of heat.
The followers of Werner came to be known as Neptunists; the Huttonians
as Plutonists. The history of geology during the first quarter of the
nineteenth century is mainly a recital of the intemperate controversy
between these opposing schools; though it should not be forgotten that,
meantime, the members of the Geological Society of London were making
an effort to hunt for facts and avoid compromising theories. Fact and
theory, however, were too closely linked to be thus divorced.
The brunt of the controversy settled about the unstratified
rocks--granites and their allies--which the Plutonists claimed as of
igneous origin. This contention had the theoretical support of the
nebular hypothesis, then gaining ground, which supposed the earth to be
a cooling globe. The Plutonists laid great stress, too, on the observed
fact that the temperature of the earth increases at a pretty constant
ratio as descent towards its centre is made in mines. But in particular
they appealed to the phenomena of volcanoes.
The evidence from this source was gathered and elaborated by Mr. G.
Poulett Scrope, secretary of the Geological Society of England, who, in
1823, published a classical work on volcanoes in which he claimed that
volcanic mountains, including some of the highest-known peaks, are
merely accumulated masses of lava belched forth from a crevice in the
earth's crust.
"Supposing the globe to have had any irregular shape when detached from
the sun," said Scrope, "the vaporization of its surface, and, of course,
of its projecting angles, together with its rotatory motion on its axis
and the liquefaction of its outer envelope, would necessarily occasion
its actual figure of an oblate spheroid. As the process of expansion
proceeded in depth, the original granitic beds were first partially
disaggregated, next disintegrated, and more or less liquefied,
the crystals being merged in the elastic vehicle produced by the
vaporization of the water contained between the laminae.
"Where this fluid was produced in abundance by great dilatation--that
is, in the outer and highly disintegrated strata, the superior specific
gravity of the crystals forced it to ooze upward, and thus a great
quantity of aqueous vapor was produced on the surface of the globe. As
this elastic fluid rose into outer space, its continually increasing
expansion must have proportionately lowered its temperature; and, in
consequence, a part was recondensed into water and sank back towards the
more solid surface of the globe.
"And in this manner, for a certain time, a violent reciprocation of
atmospheric phenomena must have continued--torrents of vapor rising
outwardly, while equally tremendous torrents of condensed vapor, or
rain, fell towards the earth. The accumulation of the latter on the
yet unstable and unconsolidated surface of the globe constituted the
primeval ocean. The surface of this ocean was exposed to continued
vaporization owing to intense heat; but this process, abstracting
caloric from the stratum of the water below, by partially cooling it,
tended to preserve the remainder in a liquid form. The ocean will have
contained, both in solution and suspension, many of the matters carried
upward from the granitic bed in which the vapors from whose condensation
it proceeded were produced, and which they had traversed in their rise.
The dissolved matters will have been silex, carbonates, and sulphates
of lime, and those other mineral substances which water at an intense
temperature and under such circumstances was enabled to hold in
solution. The suspended substances will have been all the lighter and
finer particles of the upper beds where the disintegration had been
extreme; and particularly their mica, which, owing to the tenuity of its
plate-shaped crystals, would be most readily carried up by the ascending
fluid, and will have remained longest in suspension.
"But as the torrents of vapor, holding these various matters in
solution and suspension, were forced upward, the greater part of the
disintegrated crystals by degrees subsided; those of felspar and quartz
first, the mica being, as observed above, from the form of its plates,
of peculiar buoyancy, and therefore held longest in suspension.
"The crystals of felspar and quartz as they subsided, together with a
small proportion of mica, would naturally arrange themselves so as to
have their longest dimensions more or less parallel to the surface on
which they rest; and this parallelism would be subsequently increased,
as we shall see hereafter, by the pressure of these beds sustained
between the weight of the supported column of matter and the expansive
force beneath them. These beds I conceive, when consolidated, to
constitute the gneiss formation.
"The farther the process of expansion proceeded in depth, the more was
the column of liquid matter lengthened, which, gravitating towards
the centre of the globe, tended to check any further expansion. It is,
therefore, obvious that after the globe settled into its actual orbit,
and thenceforward lost little of its enveloping matter, the whole
of which began from that moment to gravitate towards its centre, the
progress of expansion inwardly would continually increase in rapidity;
and a moment must have at length arrived hen the forces of expansion and
repression had reached an equilibrium and the process was stopped from
progressing farther inwardly by the great pressure of the gravitating
column of liquid.
"This column may be considered as consisting of different strata, though
the passage from one extremity of complete solidity to the other of
complete expansion, in reality, must have been perfectly gradual. The
lowest stratum, immediately above the extreme limit of expansion, will
have been granite barely DISAGGREGATED, and rendered imperfectly liquid
by the partial vaporization of its contained water.
"The second stratum was granite DISINTEGRATED; aqueous vapor, having
been produced in such abundance as to be enabled to rise upward,
partially disintegrating the crystals of felspar and mica, and
superficially dissolving those of quartz. This mass would reconsolidate
into granite, though of a smaller grain than the preceding rock.
"The third stratum was so disintegrated that a greater part of the mica
had been carried up by the escaping vapor IN SUSPENSION, and that of
quartz in solution; the felspar crystals, with the remaining quartz and
mica, SUBSIDING by their specific gravity and arranging themselves in
horizontal planes.
"The consolidation of this stratum produced the gneiss formation.
"The fourth zone will have been composed of the ocean of turbid and
heated water, holding mica, etc., in suspension, and quartz, carbonate
of lime, etc., in solution, and continually traversed by reciprocating
bodies of heated water rising from below, and of cold fluid sinking from
the surface, by reason of their specific gravities.
"The disturbance thus occasioned will have long retarded the deposition
of the suspended particles. But this must by degrees have taken place,
the quartz grains and the larger and coarser plates of mica subsiding
first and the finest last.
"But the fragments of quartz and mica were not deposited alone; a great
proportion of the quartz held in SOLUTION must have been precipitated
at the same time as the water cooled, and therefore by degrees lost
its faculty of so much in solution. Thus was gradually produced the
formation of mica-schist, the mica imperfectly recrystallizing or being
merely aggregated together in horizontal plates, between which the
quartz either spread itself generally in minute grains or unified into
crystalline nuclei. On other spots, instead of silex, carbonate of lime
was precipitated, together with more or less of the nucaceous sediment,
and gave rise to saccharoidal limestones. At a later period, when the
ocean was yet further cooled down, rock-salt and sulphate of lime were
locally precipitated in a similar mode.
"The fifth stratum was aeriform, and consisted in great part of
aqueous vapors; the remainder being a compound of other elastic fluids
(permanent gases) which had been formed probably from the volatilization
of some of the substances contained in the primitive granite and carried
upward with the aqueous vapor from below. These gases will have
been either mixed together or otherwise disposed, according to their
different specific gravities or chemical affinities, and this stratum
constituted the atmosphere or aerial envelope of the globe.
"When, in this manner, the general and positive expansion of the globe,
occasioned by the sudden reduction of outward pressure, had ceased (in
consequence of the REPRESSIVE FORCE, consisting of the weight of its
fluid envelope, having reached an equilibrium with the EXPANSIVE FORCE,
consisting of the caloric of the heated nucleus), the rapid superficial
evaporation of the ocean continued; and, by gradually reducing its
temperature, occasioned the precipitation of a proportionate quantity
of the minerals it held in solution, particularly its silex. These
substances falling to the bottom, accompanied by a large proportion of
the matters held in solution, particularly the mica, in consequence of
the greater comparative tranquillity of the ocean, agglomerated these
into more or less compact beds of rock (the mica-schist formation),
producing the first crust or solid envelope of the globe. Upon this,
other stratified rocks, composed sometimes of a mixture, sometimes of
an alternation of precipitations, sediments, and occasionally of
conglomerates, were by degrees deposited, giving rise to the TRANSITION
formations.
"Beneath this crust a new process now commenced. The outer zones of
crystalline matter having been suddenly refrigerated by the rapid
vaporization and partial escape of the water they contained, abstracted
caloric from the intensely heated nucleus of the globe. These
crystalline zones were of unequal density, the expansion they had
suffered diminishing from above downward.
"Their expansive force was, however, equal at all points, their
temperature everywhere bearing an inverse ratio to their density. But
when by the accession of caloric from the inner and unliquefied nucleus
the temperature, and consequently the expansive force of the lower
strata of dilated crystalline matter, was augmented, it acted upon the
upper and more liquefied strata. These being prevented from yielding
OUTWARDLY by the tenacity and weight of the solid involucrum of
precipitated and sedimental deposits which overspread them, sustained
a pressure out of proportion to their expansive force, and were in
consequence proportionately condensed, and by the continuance of the
process, where the overlying strata were sufficiently resistant, finally
consolidated.
"This process of consolidation must have progressed from above downward,
with the increase of the expansive force in the lower strata, commencing
from the upper surface, which, its temperature being lowest, offered the
least resistance to the force of compression.
"By this process the upper zone of crystalline matter, which had
intumesced so far as to allow of the escape of its aqueous vapor and of
much of its mica and quartz, was resolidified, the component crystals
arranging themselves in planes perpendicular to the direction of the
pressure by which the mass was consolidated--that is, to the radius of
the globe. The gneiss formation, as already observed, was the result.
"The inferior zone of barely disintegrated granite, from which only
a part of the steam and quartz and none of the mica had escaped,
reconsolidated in a confused or granitoidal manner; but exhibits marks
of the process it had undergone in its broken crystals of felspar and
mica, its rounded and superficially dissolved grains of quartz, its
imbedded fragments (broken from the more solid parts of the mass, as it
rose, and enveloped by the softer parts), its concretionary nodules and
new minerals, etc.
"Beneath this, the granite which had been simply disintegrated was again
solidified, and returned in all respects to its former condition. The
temperature, however, and with it the expansive force of the inferior
zone, was continually on the increase, the caloric of the interior of
the globe still endeavoring to put itself in equilibrio by passing off
towards the less-intensely heated crust.
"This continually increasing expansive force must at length have
overcome the resistance opposed by the tenacity and weight of the
overlying consolidated strata. It is reasonable to suppose that this
result took place contemporaneously, or nearly so, on many spots,
wherever accidental circumstances in the texture or composition of the
oceanic deposits led them to yield more readily; and in this manner
were produced those original fissures in the primeval crust of the earth
through some of which (fissures of elevation) were intruded portions of
interior crystalline zones in a solid or nearly solid state, together
with more or less of the intumescent granite, in the manner
above described; while others (fissures of eruption) gave rise to
extravasations of the heated crystalline matter, in the form of
lavas--that is, still further liquefied by the greater comparative
reduction of the pressure they endured."(3)
The Neptunists stoutly contended for the aqueous origin of volcanic as
of other mountains. But the facts were with Scrope, and as time went
on it came to be admitted that not merely volcanoes, but many "trap"
formations not taking the form of craters, had been made by the
obtrusion of molten rock through fissures in overlying strata. Such,
for example, to cite familiar illustrations, are Mount Holyoke, in
Massachusetts, and the well-known formation of the Palisades along the
Hudson.
But to admit the "Plutonic" origin of such widespread formations was
practically to abandon the Neptunian hypothesis. So gradually the
Huttonian explanation of the origin of granites and other "igneous"
rocks, whether massed or in veins, came to be accepted. Most geologists
then came to think of the earth as a molten mass, on which the crust
rests as a mere film. Some, indeed, with Lyell, preferred to believe
that the molten areas exist only as lakes in a solid crust, heated to
melting, perhaps, by electrical or chemical action, as Davy suggested.
More recently a popular theory attempts to reconcile geological facts
with the claim of the physicists, that the earth's entire mass is at
least as rigid as steel, by supposing that a molten film rests between
the observed solid crust and the alleged solid nucleus. But be that
as it may, the theory that subterranean heat has been instrumental in
determining the condition of "primary" rocks, and in producing many
other phenomena of the earth's crust, has never been in dispute since
the long controversy between the Neptunists and the Plutonists led to
its establishment.
LYELL AND UNIFORMITARIANISM
If molten matter exists beneath the crust of the earth, it must contract
in cooling, and in so doing it must disturb the level of the portion of
the crust already solidified. So a plausible explanation of the upheaval
of continents and mountains was supplied by the Plutonian theory, as
Hutton had from the first alleged. But now an important difference
of opinion arose as to the exact rationale of such upheavals. Hutton
himself, and practically every one else who accepted his theory, had
supposed that there are long periods of relative repose, during which
the level of the crust is undisturbed, followed by short periods of
active stress, when continents are thrown up with volcanic suddenness,
as by the throes of a gigantic earthquake. But now came Charles Lyell
with his famous extension of the "uniformitarian" doctrine, claiming
that past changes of the earth's surface have been like present changes
in degree as well as in kind. The making of continents and mountains,
he said, is going on as rapidly to-day as at any time in the past. There
have been no gigantic cataclysmic upheavals at any time, but all
changes in level of the strata as a whole have been gradual, by slow
oscillation, or at most by repeated earthquake shocks such as are still
often experienced.
In support of this very startling contention Lyell gathered a mass
of evidence of the recent changes in level of continental areas. He
corroborated by personal inspection the claim which had been made by
Playfair in 1802, and by Von Buch in 1807, that the coast-line of Sweden
is rising at the rate of from a few inches to several feet in a
century. He cited Darwin's observations going to prove that Patagonia is
similarly rising, and Pingel's claim that Greenland is slowly sinking.
Proof as to sudden changes of level of several feet, over large areas,
due to earthquakes, was brought forward in abundance. Cumulative
evidence left it no longer open to question that such oscillatory
changes of level, either upward or downward, are quite the rule, and
it could not be denied that these observed changes, if continued long
enough in one direction, would produce the highest elevations. The
possibility that the making of even the highest ranges of mountains had
been accomplished without exaggerated catastrophic action came to be
freely admitted.
It became clear that the supposedly stable-land surfaces are in
reality much more variable than the surface of the "shifting sea"; that
continental masses, seemingly so fixed, are really rising and falling
in billows thousands of feet in height, ages instead of moments being
consumed in the sweep between crest and hollow.
These slow oscillations of land surfaces being understood, many
geological enigmas were made clear--such as the alternation of marine
and fresh-water formations in a vertical series, which Cuvier and
Brongniart had observed near Paris; or the sandwiching of layers of
coal, of subaerial formation, between layers of subaqueous clay or
sandstone, which may be observed everywhere in the coal measures. In
particular, the extreme thickness of the sedimentary strata as a whole,
many times exceeding the depth of the deepest known sea, was for the
first time explicable when it was understood that such strata had formed
in slowly sinking ocean-beds.
All doubt as to the mode of origin of stratified rocks being thus
removed, the way was opened for a more favorable consideration of
that other Huttonian doctrine of the extremely slow denudation of land
surfaces. The enormous amount of land erosion will be patent to any
one who uses his eyes intelligently in a mountain district. It will be
evident in any region where the strata are tilted--as, for example, the
Alleghanies--that great folds of strata which must once have risen miles
in height have in many cases been worn entirely away, so that now a
valley marks the location of the former eminence. Where the strata are
level, as in the case of the mountains of Sicily, the Scotch Highlands,
and the familiar Catskills, the evidence of denudation is, if possible,
even more marked; for here it is clear that elevation and valley have
been carved by the elements out of land that rose from the sea as level
plateaus.
But that this herculean labor of land-sculpturing could have been
accomplished by the slow action of wind and frost and shower was an
idea few men could grasp within the first half-century after Hutton
propounded it; nor did it begin to gain general currency until Lyell's
crusade against catastrophism, begun about 1830, had for a quarter of a
century accustomed geologists to the thought of slow, continuous changes
producing final results of colossal proportions. And even long after
that it was combated by such men as Murchison, Director-General of
the Geological Survey of Great Britain, then accounted the foremost
field-geologist of his time, who continued to believe that the existing
valleys owe their main features to subterranean forces of upheaval.
Even Murchison, however, made some recession from the belief of the
Continental authorities, Elie de Beaumont and Leopold von Buch,
who contended that the mountains had sprung up like veritable
jacks-in-the-box. Von Buch, whom his friend and fellow-pupil Von
Humboldt considered the foremost geologist of the time, died in 1853,
still firm in his early faith that the erratic bowlders found high on
the Jura had been hurled there, like cannon-balls, across the valley of
Geneva by the sudden upheaval of a neighboring mountain-range.
AGASSIZ AND THE GLACIAL THEORY
The bowlders whose presence on the crags of the Jura the old Gerinan
accounted for in a manner so theatrical had long been a source of
contention among geologists. They are found not merely on the Jura,
but on numberless other mountains in all north-temperate latitudes, and
often far out in the open country, as many a farmer who has broken his
plough against them might testify. The early geologists accounted for
them, as for nearly everything else, with their supposititious Deluge.
Brongniart and Cuvier and Buckland and their contemporaries appeared
to have no difficulty in conceiving that masses of granite weighing
hundreds of tons had been swept by this current scores or hundreds
of miles from their source. But, of course, the uniformitarian faith
permitted no such explanation, nor could it countenance the projection
idea; so Lyell was bound to find some other means of transportation for
the puzzling erratics.
The only available medium was ice, but, fortunately, this one seemed
quite sufficient. Icebergs, said Lyell, are observed to carry all manner
of debris, and deposit it in the sea-bottoms. Present land surfaces
have often been submerged beneath the sea. During the latest of these
submergences icebergs deposited the bowlders now scattered here
and there over the land. Nothing could be simpler or more clearly
uniformitarian. And even the catastrophists, though they met Lyell
amicably on almost no other theoretical ground, were inclined to admit
the plausibility of his theory of erratics. Indeed, of all Lyell's
nonconformist doctrines, this seemed the one most likely to meet with
general acceptance.
Yet, even as this iceberg theory loomed large and larger before the
geological world, observations were making in a different field that
were destined to show its fallacy. As early as 1815 a sharp-eyed
chamois-hunter of the Alps, Perraudin by name, had noted the existence
of the erratics, and, unlike most of his companion hunters, had puzzled
his head as to how the bowlders got where he saw them. He knew nothing
of submerged continents or of icebergs, still less of upheaving
mountains; and though he doubtless had heard of the Flood, he had no
experience of heavy rocks floating like corks in water. Moreover, he
had never observed stones rolling uphill and perching themselves on
mountain-tops, and he was a good enough uniformitarian (though he would
have been puzzled indeed had any one told him so) to disbelieve that
stones in past times had disported themselves differently in this regard
from stones of the present. Yet there the stones are. How did they get
there?
The mountaineer thought that he could answer that question. He saw about
him those gigantic serpent-like streams of ice called glaciers, "from
their far fountains slow rolling on," carrying with them blocks of
granite and other debris to form moraine deposits. If these glaciers had
once been much more extensive than they now are, they might have carried
the bowlders and left them where we find them. On the other hand, no
other natural agency within the sphere of the chamois-hunter's knowledge
could have accomplished this, ergo the glaciers must once have been more
extensive. Perraudin would probably have said that common-sense drove
him to this conclusion; but be that as it may, he had conceived one of
the few truly original and novel ideas of which the nineteenth century
can boast.
Perraudin announced his idea to the greatest scientist in his little
world--Jean de Charpentier, director of the mines at Bex, a skilled
geologist who had been a fellow-pupil of Von Buch and Von Humboldt
under Werner at the Freiberg School of Mines. Charpentier laughed at
the mountaineer's grotesque idea, and thought no more about it. And ten
years elapsed before Perraudin could find any one who treated his notion
with greater respect. Then he found a listener in M. Venetz, a civil
engineer, who read a paper on the novel glacial theory before a local
society in 1823. This brought the matter once more to the attention of
De Charpentier, who now felt that there might be something in it worth
investigation.
A survey of the field in the light of the new theory soon convinced
Charpentier that the chamois-hunter had all along been right. He became
an enthusiastic supporter of the idea that the Alps had once been
imbedded in a mass of ice, and in 1836 he brought the notion to the
attention of Louis Agassiz, who was spending the summer in the Alps.
Agassiz was sceptical at first, but soon became a convert.
In 1840 Agassiz published a paper in which the results of his Alpine
studies were elaborated.
"Let us consider," he says, "those more considerable changes to which
glaciers are subject, or rather, the immense extent which they had in
the prehistoric period. This former immense extension, greater than any
that tradition has preserved, is proved, in the case of nearly every
valley in the Alps, by facts which are both many and well established.
The study of these facts is even easy if the student is looking out for
them, and if he will seize the least indication of their presence; and,
if it were a long time before they were observed and connected with
glacial action, it is because the evidences are often isolated and occur
at places more or less removed from the glacier which originated them.
If it be true that it is the prerogative of the scientific observer to
group in the field of his mental vision those facts which appear to be
without connection to the vulgar herd, it is, above all, in such a case
as this that he is called upon to do so. I have often compared these
feeble effects, produced by the glacial action of former ages, with the
appearance of the markings upon a lithographic stone, prepared for the
purpose of preservation, and upon which one cannot see the lines of the
draughtsman's work unless it is known beforehand where and how to search
for them.
"The fact of the former existence of glaciers which have now disappeared
is proved by the survival of the various phenomena which always
accompany them, and which continue to exist even after the ice has
melted. These phenomena are as follows:
"1. Moraines.--The disposition and composition of moraines enable them
to be always recognized, even when they are no longer adjacent to a
glacier nor immediately surround its lower extremities. I may remark
that lateral and terminal moraines alone enable us to recognize with
certainty the limits of glacial extension, because they can be easily
distinguished from the dikes and irregularly distributed stones carried
down by the Alpine torrents, The lateral moraines deposited upon the
sides of valleys are rarely affected by the larger torrents, but they
are, however, often cut by the small streams which fall down the side of
a mountain, and which, by interfering with their continuity, make them
so much more difficult to recognize.
"2. The Perched Bowlders.--It often happens that glaciers encounter
projecting points of rock, the sides of which become rounded, and around
which funnel-like cavities are formed with more or less profundity. When
glaciers diminish and retire, the blocks which have fallen into these
funnels often remain perched upon the top of the projecting rocky point
within it, in such a state of equilibrium that any idea of a current of
water as the cause of their transportation is completely inadmissible
on account of their position. When such points of rock project above
the surface of the glacier or appear as a more considerable islet in
the midst of its mass (such as is the case in the Jardin of the Mer de
Glace, above Montavert), such projections become surrounded on all
sides by stones which ultimately form a sort of crown around the summit
whenever the glaciers decrease or retire completely. Water currents
never produce anything like this; but, on the contrary, whenever a
stream breaks itself against a projecting rock, the stones which it
carries down are turned aside and form a more or less regular trail.
Never, under such circumstances, can the stones remain either at the
top or at the sides of the rock, for, if such a thing were possible,
the rapidity of the current would be accelerated by the increased
resistance, and the moving bowlders would be carried beyond the
obstruction before they were finally deposited.
"3. The polished and striated rocks, such as have been described in
Chapter XIV., afford yet further evidence of the presence of a glacier;
for, as has been said already, neither a current nor the action of waves
upon an extensive beach produces such effects. The general direction of
the channels and furrows indicates the direction of the general movement
of the glacier, and the streaks which vary more or less from this
direction are produced by the local effects of oscillation and retreat,
as we shall presently see.
"4. The Lapiaz, or Lapiz, which the inhabitants of German Switzerland
call Karrenfelder, cannot always be distinguished from erosions,
because, both produced as they are by water, they do not differ in their
exterior characteristics, but only in their positions. Erosions due to
torrents are always found in places more or less depressed, and never
occur upon large inclined surfaces. The Lapiaz, on the contrary, are
frequently found upon the projecting parts of the sides of valleys in
places where it is not possible to suppose that water has ever formed
a current. Some geologists, in their embarrassment to explain these
phenomena, have supposed that they were due to the infiltration of
acidulated water, but this hypothesis is purely gratuitous.
"We will now describe the remains of these various phenomena as they are
found in the Alps outside the actual glacial limits, in order to prove
that at a certain epoch glaciers were much larger than they are to-day.
"The ancient moraines, situated as they are at a great distance from
those of the present day, are nowhere so distinct or so frequent as
in Valais, where MM. Venetz and J. de Charpentier noticed them for the
first time; but as their observations are as yet unpublished, and they
themselves gave me the information, it would be an appropriation of
their discovery if I were to describe them here in detail. I will limit
myself to say that there can be found traces, more or less distinct, of
ancient terminal moraines in the form of vaulted dikes at the foot of
every glacier, at a distance of a few minutes' walk, a quarter of an
hour, a half-hour, an hour, and even of several leagues from their
present extremities. These traces become less distinct in proportion
to their distance from the glacier, and, since they are also often
traversed by torrents, they are not as continuous as the moraines which
are nearer to the glaciers. The farther these ancient moraines are
removed from the termination of a glacier, the higher up they reach upon
the sides of the valley, which proves to us that the thickness of the
glacier must have been greater when its size was larger. At the same
time, their number indicates so many stopping-places in the retreat of
the glacier, or so many extreme limits of its extension--limits which
were never reached again after it had retired. I insist upon this point,
because if it is true that all these moraines demonstrate a larger
extent of the glacier, they also prove that their retreat into their
present boundaries, far from having been catastrophic, was marked on the
contrary by periods of repose more or less frequent, which caused the
formation of a series of concentric moraines which even now indicate
their retrogression.
"The remains of longitudinal moraines are less frequent, less distinct,
and more difficult to investigate, because, indicating as they do the
levels to which the edges of the glacier reached at different epochs,
it is generally necessary to look for them above the line of the
paths along the escarpments of the valleys, and hence it is not always
possible to follow them along a valley. Often, also, the sides of a
valley which enclosed a glacier are so steep that it is only here and
there that the stones have remained in place. They are, nevertheless,
very distinct in the lower part of the valley of the Rhone, between
Martigny and the Lake of Geneva, where several parallel ridges can be
observed, one above the other, at a height of one thousand, one thousand
two hundred, and even one thousand five hundred feet above the Rhone.
It is between St. Maurice and the cascade of Pissevache, close to the
hamlet of Chaux-Fleurie, that they are most accessible, for at this
place the sides of the valley at different levels ascend in little
terraces, upon which the moraines have been preserved. They are also
very distinct above the Bains de Lavey, and above the village of Monthey
at the entrance of the Val d'Illiers, where the sides of the valley are
less inclined than in many other places.
"The perched bowlders which are found in the Alpine valleys, at
considerable distances from the glaciers, occupy at times positions so
extraordinary that they excite in a high degree the curiosity of those
who see them. For instance, when one sees an angular stone perched upon
the top of an isolated pyramid, or resting in some way in a very steep
locality, the first inquiry of the mind is, When and how have these
stones been placed in such positions, where the least shock would seem
to turn them over? But this phenomenon is not in the least astonishing
when it is seen to occur also within the limits of actual glaciers, and
it is recalled by what circumstances it is occasioned.
"The most curious examples of perched stones which can be cited are
those which command the northern part of the cascade of Pissevache,
close to Chaux-Fleurie, and those above the Bains de Lavey, close to the
village of Morcles; and those, even more curious, which I have seen in
the valley of St. Nicolas and Oberhasli. At Kirchet, near Meiringen, can
be seen some very remarkable crowns of bowlders around several domes
of rock which appear to have been projected above the surface of the
glacier which surrounded them. Something very similar can be seen around
the top of the rock of St. Triphon.
"The extraordinary phenomenon of perched stones could not escape the
observing eye of De Saussure, who noticed several at Saleve, of which
he described the positions in the following manner: 'One sees,' said he,
'upon the slope of an inclined meadow, two of these great bowlders of
granite, elevated one upon the other, above the grass at a height of two
or three feet, upon a base of limestone rock on which both rest. This
base is a continuation of the horizontal strata of the mountain, and is
even united with it visibly on its lower face, being cut perpendicularly
upon the other sides, and is not larger than the stone which it
supports.' But seeing that the entire mountain is composed of the same
limestone, De Saussure naturally concluded that it would be absurd to
think that it was elevated precisely and only beneath the blocks of
granite. But, on the other hand, since he did not know the manner in
which these perched stones are deposited in our days by glacial action,
he had recourse to another explanation: He supposes that the rock was
worn away around its base by the continual erosion of water and air,
while the portion of the rock which served as the base for the granite
had been protected by it. This explanation, although very ingenious,
could no longer be admitted after the researches of M. Elie de Beaumont
had proved that the action of atmospheric agencies was not by a good
deal so destructive as was theretofore supposed. De Saussure speaks
also of a detached bowlder, situated upon the opposite side of the
Tete-Noire, 'which is,' he says, 'of so great a size that one is tempted
to believe that it was formed in the place it occupies; and it is called
Barme russe, because it is worn away beneath in the form of a cave which
can afford accommodation for more than thirty persons at a time."(4)
But the implications of the theory of glaciers extend, so Agassiz has
come to believe, far beyond the Alps. If the Alps had been covered with
an ice sheet, so had many other regions of the northern hemisphere.
Casting abroad for evidences of glacial action, Agassiz found them
everywhere in the form of transported erratics, scratched and polished
outcropping rocks, and moraine-like deposits. Finally, he became
convinced that the ice sheet that covered the Alps had spread over the
whole of the higher latitudes of the northern hemisphere, forming an
ice cap over the globe. Thus the common-sense induction of the
chamois-hunter blossomed in the mind of Agassiz into the conception of a
universal ice age.
In 1837 Agassiz had introduced his theory to the world, in a paper read
at Neuchatel, and three years later he published his famous Etudes sur
les Glaciers, from which we have just quoted. Never did idea make a more
profound disturbance in the scientific world. Von Buch treated it
with alternate ridicule, contempt, and rage; Murchison opposed it with
customary vigor; even Lyell, whose most remarkable mental endowment was
an unfailing receptiveness to new truths, could not at once discard
his iceberg theory in favor of the new claimant. Dr. Buckland, however,
after Agassiz had shown him evidence of former glacial action in his own
Scotland, became a convert--the more readily, perhaps, as it seemed to
him to oppose the uniformitarian idea. Gradually others fell in line,
and after the usual imbittered controversy and the inevitable full
generation of probation, the idea of an ice age took its place among
the accepted tenets of geology. All manner of moot points still demanded
attention--the cause of the ice age, the exact extent of the ice sheet,
the precise manner in which it produced its effects, and the exact
nature of these effects; and not all of these have even yet been
determined. But, details aside, the ice age now has full recognition
from geologists as an historical period. There may have been many ice
ages, as Dr. Croll contends; there was surely one; and the conception
of such a period is one of the very few ideas of our century that no
previous century had even so much as faintly adumbrated.
THE GEOLOGICAL AGES
But, for that matter, the entire subject of historical geology is
one that had but the barest beginning before our century. Until the
paleontologist found out the key to the earth's chronology, no one--not
even Hutton--could have any definite idea as to the true story of the
earth's past. The only conspicuous attempt to classify the strata was
that made by Werner, who divided the rocks into three systems, based on
their supposed order of deposition, and called primary, transition, and
secondary.
Though Werner's observations were confined to the small province of
Saxony, he did not hesitate to affirm that all over the world the
succession of strata would be found the same as there, the concentric
layers, according to this conception, being arranged about the earth
with the regularity of layers on an onion. But in this Werner was
as mistaken as in his theoretical explanation of the origin of the
"primary" rocks. It required but little observation to show that the
exact succession of strata is never precisely the same in any widely
separated regions. Nevertheless, there was a germ of truth in Werner's
system. It contained the idea, however faultily interpreted, of a
chronological succession of strata; and it furnished a working outline
for the observers who were to make out the true story of geological
development. But the correct interpretation of the observed facts could
only be made after the Huttonian view as to the origin of strata had
gained complete acceptance.
When William Smith, having found the true key to this story, attempted
to apply it, the territory with which he had to deal chanced to be one
where the surface rocks are of that later series which Werner termed
secondary. He made numerous subdivisions within this system, based
mainly on the fossils. Meantime it was found that, judged by the
fossils, the strata that Brongniart and Cuvier studied near Paris were
of a still more recent period (presumed at first to be due to the latest
deluge), which came to be spoken of as tertiary. It was in these beds,
some of which seemed to have been formed in fresh-water lakes, that many
of the strange mammals which Cuvier first described were found.
But the "transition" rocks, underlying the "secondary" system that Smith
studied, were still practically unexplored when, along in the thirties,
they were taken in hand by Roderick Impey Murchison, the reformed
fox-hunter and ex-captain, who had turned geologist to such notable
advantage, and Adam Sedgwick, the brilliant Woodwardian professor at
Cambridge.
Working together, these two friends classified the
transition rocks into chronological groups, since familiar to every one
in the larger outlines as the Silurian system (age of invertebrates) and
the Devonian system (age of fishes)--names derived respectively from the
country of the ancient Silures, in Wales and Devonshire, England. It
was subsequently discovered that these systems of strata, which crop out
from beneath newer rocks in restricted areas in Britain, are spread out
into broad, undisturbed sheets over thousands of miles in continental
Europe and in America. Later on Murchison studied them in Russia,
and described them, conjointly with Verneuil and Von Kerserling, in
a ponderous and classical work. In America they were studied by Hall,
Newberry, Whitney, Dana, Whitfield, and other pioneer geologists, who
all but anticipated their English contemporaries.
The rocks that are of still older formation than those studied by
Murchison and Sedgwick (corresponding in location to the "primary" rocks
of Werner's conception) are the surface feature of vast areas in Canada,
and were first prominently studied there by William I. Logan, of the
Canadian Government Survey, as early as 1846, and later on by Sir
William Dawson. These rocks--comprising the Laurentian system--were
formerly supposed to represent parts of the original crust of the earth,
formed on first cooling from a molten state; but they are now more
generally regarded as once-stratified deposits metamorphosed by the
action of heat.
Whether "primitive" or metamorphic, however, these Canadian rocks, and
analogous ones beneath the fossiliferous strata of other countries,
are the oldest portions of the earth's crust of which geology has any
present knowledge. Mountains of this formation, as the Adirondacks and
the Storm King range, overlooking the Hudson near West Point, are the
patriarchs of their kind, beside which Alleghanies and Sierra Nevadas
are recent upstarts, and Rockies, Alps, and Andes are mere parvenus of
yesterday.
The Laurentian rocks were at first spoken of as representing "Azoic"
time; but in 1846 Dawson found a formation deep in their midst which was
believed to b e the fossil relic of a very low form of life, and after
that it became customary to speak of the system as "Eozoic." Still more
recently the title of Dawson's supposed fossil to rank as such has been
questioned, and Dana's suggestion that the early rocks be termed merely
Archman has met with general favor. Murchison and Sedgwick's Silurian,
Devonian, and Carboniferous groups (the ages of invertebrates, of
fishes, and of coal plants, respectively) are together spoken of as
representing Paleozoic time. William Smith's system of strata, next
above these, once called "secondary," represents Mesozoic time, or
the age of reptiles. Still higher, or more recent, are Cuvier and
Brongniart's tertiary rocks, representing the age of mammals. Lastly,
the most recent formations, dating back, however, to a period far enough
from recent in any but a geological sense, are classed as quaternary,
representing the age of man.
It must not be supposed, however, that the successive "ages" of the
geologist are shut off from one another in any such arbitrary way as
this verbal classification might seem to suggest. In point of fact,
these "ages" have no better warrant for existence than have the
"centuries" and the "weeks" of every-day computation. They are
convenient, and they may even stand for local divisions in the strata,
but they are bounded by no actual gaps in the sweep of terrestrial
events.
Moreover, it must be understood that the "ages" of different continents,
though described under the same name, are not necessarily of exact
contemporaneity. There is no sure test available by which it could be
shown that the Devonian age, for instance, as outlined in the strata of
Europe, did not begin millions of years earlier or later than the period
whose records are said to represent the Devonian age in America. In
attempting to decide such details as this, mineralogical data fail us
utterly. Even in rocks of adjoining regions identity of structure is no
proof of contemporaneous origin; for the veritable substance of the
rock of one age is ground up to build the rocks of subsequent ages.
Furthermore, in seas where conditions change but little the same form
of rock may be made age after age. It is believed that chalk-beds still
forming in some of our present seas may form one continuous mass dating
back to earliest geologic ages. On the other hand, rocks different in
character maybe formed at the same time in regions not far apart--say
a sandstone along shore, a coral limestone farther seaward, and a
chalk-bed beyond. This continuous stratum, broken in the process of
upheaval, might seem the record of three different epochs.
Paleontology, of course, supplies far better chronological tests, but
even these have their limitations. There has been no time since rocks
now in existence were formed, if ever, when the earth had a uniform
climate and a single undiversified fauna over its entire land surface,
as the early paleontologists supposed. Speaking broadly, the same
general stages have attended the evolution of organic forms everywhere,
but there is nothing to show that equal periods of time witnessed
corresponding changes in diverse regions, but quite the contrary.
To cite but a single illustration, the marsupial order, which is the
dominant mammalian type of the living fauna of Australia to-day,
existed in Europe and died out there in the tertiary age. Hence a future
geologist might think the Australia of to-day contemporaneous with a
period in Europe which in reality antedated it by perhaps millions of
years.
All these puzzling features unite to render the subject of historical
geology anything but the simple matter the fathers of the science
esteemed it. No one would now attempt to trace the exact sequence of
formation of all the mountains of the globe, as Elie de Beaumont did
a half-century ago. Even within the limits of a single continent, the
geologist must proceed with much caution in attempting to chronicle the
order in which its various parts rose from the matrix of the sea. The
key to this story is found in the identification of the strata that
are the surface feature in each territory. If Devonian rocks are at
the surface in any given region, for example, it would appear that this
region became a land surface in the Devonian age, or just afterwards.
But a moment's consideration shows that there is an element of
uncertainty about this, due to the steady denudation that all land
surfaces undergo. The Devonian rocks may lie at the surface simply
because the thousands of feet of carboniferous strata that once lay
above them have been worn away. All that the cautious geologist dare
assert, therefore, is that the region in question did not become
permanent land surface earlier than the Devonian age.
But to know even this is much--sufficient, indeed, to establish the
chronological order of elevation, if not its exact period, for all parts
of any continent that have been geologically explored--understanding
always that there must be no scrupling about a latitude of a few
millions or perhaps tens of millions of years here and there.
Regarding our own continent, for example, we learn through the
researches of a multitude of workers that in the early day it was a mere
archipelago. Its chief island--the backbone of the future continent--was
a great V-shaped area surrounding what is now Hudson Bay, an area built
tip, perhaps, through denudation of a yet more ancient polar continent,
whose existence is only conjectured. To the southeast an island that
is now the Adirondack Mountains, and another that is now the Jersey
Highlands rose above the waste of waters, and far to the south stretched
probably a line of islands now represented by the Blue Ridge Mountains.
Far off to the westward another line of islands foreshadowed our present
Pacific border. A few minor islands in the interior completed the
archipelago.
From this bare skeleton the continent grew, partly by the deposit of
sediment from the denudation of the original islands (which once towered
miles, perhaps, where now they rise thousands of feet), but largely also
by the deposit of organic remains, especially in the interior sea, which
teemed with life. In the Silurian ages, invertebrates--brachiopods and
crinoids and cephalopods--were the dominant types. But very early--no
one knows just when--there came fishes of many strange forms, some of
the early ones enclosed in turtle-like shells. Later yet, large spaces
within the interior sea having risen to the surface, great marshes or
forests of strange types of vegetation grew and deposited their remains
to form coal-beds. Many times over such forests were formed, only to be
destroyed by the oscillations of the land surface. All told, the strata
of this Paleozoic period aggregate several miles in thickness, and the
time consumed in their formation stands to all later time up to the
present, according to Professor Dana's estimate, as three to one.
Towards the close of this Paleozoic era the Appalachian Mountains
were slowly upheaved in great convoluted folds, some of them probably
reaching three or four miles above the sea-level, though the tooth
of time has since gnawed them down to comparatively puny limits. The
continental areas thus enlarged were peopled during the ensuing Mesozoic
time with multitudes of strange reptiles, many of them gigantic in size.
The waters, too, still teeming with invertebrates and fishes, had their
quota of reptilian monsters; and in the air were flying reptiles, some
of which measured twenty-five feet from tip to tip of their batlike
wings. During this era the Sierra Nevada Mountains rose. Near the
eastern border of the forming continent the strata were perhaps now too
thick and stiff to bend into mountain folds, for they were rent into
great fissures, letting out floods of molten lava, remnants of which are
still in evidence after ages of denudation, as the Palisades along the
Hudson, and such elevations as Mount Holyoke in western Massachusetts.
Still there remained a vast interior sea, which later on, in the
tertiary age, was to be divided by the slow uprising of the land, which
only yesterday--that is to say, a million, or three or five or ten
million, years ago--became the Rocky Mountains. High and erect these
young mountains stand to this day, their sharp angles and rocky contours
vouching for their youth, in strange contrast with the shrunken forms
of the old Adirondacks, Green Mountains, and Appalachians, whose lowered
heads and rounded shoulders attest the weight of ages. In the vast lakes
which still remained on either side of the Rocky range, tertiary
strata were slowly formed to the ultimate depth of two or three miles,
enclosing here and there those vertebrate remains which were to be
exposed again to view by denudation when the land rose still higher,
and then, in our own time, to tell so wonderful a story to the
paleontologist.
Finally, the interior seas were filled, and the shore lines of the
continent assumed nearly their present outline.
Then came the long winter of the glacial epoch--perhaps of a succession
of glacial epochs. The ice sheet extended southward to about the
fortieth parallel, driving some animals before it, and destroying those
that were unable to migrate. At its fulness, the great ice mass lay
almost a mile in depth over New England, as attested by the scratched
and polished rock surfaces and deposited erratics in the White
Mountains. Such a mass presses down with a weight of about one hundred
and twenty-five tons to the square foot, according to Dr. Croll's
estimate. It crushed and ground everything beneath it more or less, and
in some regions planed off hilly surfaces into prairies. Creeping slowly
forward, it carried all manner of debris with it. When it melted away
its terminal moraine built up the nucleus of the land masses now known
as Long Island and Staten Island; other of its deposits formed the
"drumlins" about Boston famous as Bunker and Breed's hills; and it left
a long, irregular line of ridges of "till" or bowlder clay and scattered
erratics clear across the country at about the latitude of New York
city.
As the ice sheet slowly receded it left minor moraines all along its
course. Sometimes its deposits dammed up river courses or inequalities
in the surface, to form the lakes which everywhere abound over Northern
territories. Some glacialists even hold the view first suggested by
Ramsey, of the British Geological Survey, that the great glacial sheets
scooped out the basins of many lakes, including the system that feeds
the St. Lawrence. At all events, it left traces of its presence all
along the line of its retreat, and its remnants exist to this day as
mountain glaciers and the polar ice cap. Indeed, we live on the border
of the last glacial epoch, for with the closing of this period the long
geologic past merges into the present.
PAST, PRESENT, AND FUTURE
And the present, no less than the past, is a time of change. This is the
thought which James Hutton conceived more than a century ago, but which
his contemporaries and successors were so very slow to appreciate. Now,
however, it has become axiomatic--one can hardly realize that it was
ever doubted. Every new scientific truth, says Agassiz, must pass
through three stages--first, men say it is not true; then they declare
it hostile to religion; finally, they assert that every one has known
it always. Hutton's truth that natural law is changeless and eternal
has reached this final stage. Nowhere now could you find a scientist
who would dispute the truth of that text which Lyell, quoting from
Playfair's Illustrations of the Huttonian Theory, printed on the
title-page of his Principles: "Amid all the revolutions of the globe
the economy of Nature has been uniform, and her laws are the only things
that have resisted the general movement. The rivers and the rocks, the
seas and the continents, have been changed in all their parts; but
the laws which direct those changes, and the rules to which they are
subject, have remained invariably the same."
But, on the other hand, Hutton and Playfair, and in particular Lyell,
drew inferences from this principle which the modern physicist can by no
means admit. To them it implied that the changes on the surface of the
earth have always been the same in degree as well as in kind, and must
so continue while present forces hold their sway. In other words, they
thought of the world as a great perpetual-motion machine. But the
modern physicist, given truer mechanical insight by the doctrines of the
conservation and the dissipation of energy, will have none of that. Lord
Kelvin, in particular, has urged that in the periods of our earth's in
fancy and adolescence its developmental changes must have been, like
those of any other infant organism, vastly more rapid and pronounced
than those of a later day; and to every clear thinker this truth also
must now seem axiomatic.
Whoever thinks of the earth as a cooling globe can hardly doubt that its
crust, when thinner, may have heaved under strain of the moon's tidal
pull--whether or not that body was nearer--into great billows, daily
rising and falling, like waves of the present seas vastly magnified.
Under stress of that same lateral pressure from contraction which now
produces the slow depression of the Jersey coast, the slow rise of
Sweden, the occasional belching of an insignificant volcano, the jetting
of a geyser, or the trembling of an earthquake, once large areas were
rent in twain, and vast floods of lava flowed over thousands of square
miles of the earth's surface, perhaps, at a single jet; and, for aught
we know to the contrary, gigantic mountains may have heaped up their
contorted heads in cataclysms as spasmodic as even the most ardent
catastrophist of the elder day of geology could have imagined.
The atmosphere of that early day, filled with vast volumes of carbon,
oxygen, and other chemicals that have since been stored in beds of coal,
limestone, and granites, may have worn down the rocks on the one hand
and built up organic forms on the other, with a rapidity that would now
seem hardly conceivable.
And yet while all these anomalous things went on, the same laws held
sway that now are operative; and a true doctrine of uniformitarianism
would make no unwonted concession in conceding them all--though most of
the imbittered geological controversies of the middle of the nineteenth
century were due to the failure of both parties to realize that simple
fact.
And as of the past and present, so of the future. The same forces will
continue to operate; and under operation of these unchanging forces each
day will differ from every one that has preceded it. If it be true,
as every physicist believes, that the earth is a cooling globe, then,
whatever its present stage of refrigeration, the time must come when its
surface contour will assume a rigidity of level not yet attained. Then,
just as surely, the slow action of the elements will continue to wear
away the land surfaces, particle by particle, and transport them to the
ocean, as it does to-day, until, compensation no longer being afforded
by the upheaval of the continents, the last foot of dry land will sink
for the last time beneath the water, the last mountain-peak melting
away, and our globe, lapsing like any other organism into its second
childhood, will be on the surface--as presumably it was before the first
continent rose--one vast "waste of waters." As puny man conceives time
and things, an awful cycle will have lapsed; in the sweep of the cosmic
life, a pulse-beat will have throbbed.
V. THE NEW SCIENCE OF METEOROLOGY
METEORITES
"An astonishing miracle has just occurred in our district," wrote M.
Marais, a worthy if undistinguished citizen of France, from his home at
L'Aigle, under date of "the 13th Floreal, year 11"--a date which outside
of France would be interpreted as meaning May 3, 1803. This "miracle"
was the appearance of a "fireball" in broad daylight--"perhaps it was
wildfire," says the naive chronicle--which "hung over the meadow," being
seen by many people, and then exploded with a loud sound, scattering
thousands of stony fragments over the surface of a territory some miles
in extent.
Such a "miracle" could not have been announced at a more opportune time.
For some years the scientific world had been agog over the question
whether such a form of lightning as that reported--appearing in a clear
sky, and hurling literal thunderbolts--had real existence. Such
cases had been reported often enough, it is true. The "thunderbolts"
themselves were exhibited as sacred relics before many an altar, and
those who doubted their authenticity had been chided as having "an
evil heart of unbelief." But scientific scepticism had questioned the
evidence, and late in the eighteenth century a consensus of opinion
in the French Academy had declined to admit that such stones had been
"conveyed to the earth by lightning," let alone any more miraculous
agency.
In 1802, however, Edward Howard had read a paper before the Royal
Society in which, after reviewing the evidence recently put forward,
he had reached the conclusion that the fall of stones from the sky,
sometimes or always accompanied by lightning, must be admitted as
an actual phenomenon, however inexplicable. So now, when the great
stone-fall at L'Aigle was announced, the French Academy made haste to
send the brilliant young physicist Jean Baptiste Biot to investigate
it, that the matter might, if possible, be set finally at rest.
The investigation was in all respects successful, and Biot's report
transferred the stony or metallic lightning-bolt--the aerolite or
meteorite--from the realm of tradition and conjecture to that of
accepted science.
But how explain this strange phenomenon? At once speculation was rife.
One theory contended that the stony masses had not actually fallen, but
had been formed from the earth by the action of the lightning; but this
contention was early abandoned. The chemists were disposed to believe
that the aerolites had been formed by the combination of elements
floating in the upper atmosphere. Geologists, on the other hand, thought
them of terrestrial origin, urging that they might have been thrown up
by volcanoes. The astronomers, as represented by Olbers and Laplace,
modified this theory by suggesting that the stones might, indeed, have
been cast out by volcanoes, but by volcanoes situated not on the earth,
but on the moon.
And one speculator of the time took a step even more daring, urging that
the aerolites were neither of telluric nor selenitic origin, nor yet
children of the sun, as the old Greeks had, many of them, contended,
but that they are visitants from the depths of cosmic space. This bold
speculator was the distinguished German physicist Ernst F. F. Chladni,
a man of no small repute in his day. As early as 1794 he urged his
cosmical theory of meteorites, when the very existence of meteorites was
denied by most scientists. And he did more: he declared his belief
that these falling stones were really one in origin and kind with those
flashing meteors of the upper atmosphere which are familiar everywhere
as "shooting-stars."
Each of these coruscating meteors, he affirmed, must tell of the
ignition of a bit of cosmic matter entering the earth's atmosphere. Such
wandering bits of matter might be the fragments of shattered worlds, or,
as Chladni thought more probable, merely aggregations of "world stuff"
never hitherto connected with any large planetary mass.
Naturally enough, so unique a view met with very scant favor.
Astronomers at that time saw little to justify it; and the
non-scientific world rejected it with fervor as being "atheistic and
heretical," because its acceptance would seem to imply that the universe
is not a perfect mechanism.
Some light was thrown on the moot point presently by the observations of
Brandes and Benzenberg, which tended to show that falling-stars travel
at an actual speed of from fifteen to ninety miles a second. This
observation tended to discredit the selenitic theory, since an object,
in order to acquire such speed in falling merely from the moon, must
have been projected with an initial velocity not conceivably to be given
by any lunar volcanic impulse. Moreover, there was a growing conviction
that there are no active volcanoes on the moon, and other considerations
of the same tenor led to the complete abandonment of the selenitic
theory.
But the theory of telluric origin of aerolites was by no means so easily
disposed of. This was an epoch when electrical phenomena were exciting
unbounded and universal interest, and there was a not unnatural tendency
to appeal to electricity in explanation of every obscure phenomenon; and
in this case the seeming similarity between a lightning flash and the
flash of an aerolite lent color to the explanation. So we find Thomas
Forster, a meteorologist of repute, still adhering to the atmospheric
theory of formation of aerolites in his book published in 1823; and,
indeed, the prevailing opinion of the time seemed divided between
various telluric theories, to the neglect of any cosmical theory
whatever.
But in 1833 occurred a phenomenon which set the matter finally at
rest. A great meteoric shower occurred in November of that year, and
in observing it Professor Denison Olmstead, of Yale, noted that all
the stars of the shower appeared to come from a single centre or
vanishing-point in the heavens, and that this centre shifted its
position with the stars, and hence was not telluric. The full
significance of this observation was at once recognized by astronomers;
it demonstrated beyond all cavil the cosmical origin of the
shooting-stars. Some conservative meteorologists kept up the argument
for the telluric origin for some decades to come, as a matter of
course--such a band trails always in the rear of progress. But even
these doubters were silenced when the great shower of shooting-stars
appeared again in 1866, as predicted by Olbers and Newton, radiating
from the same point of the heavens as before.
Since then the spectroscope has added its confirmatory evidence as to
the identity of meteorite and shooting-star, and, moreover, has linked
these atmospheric meteors with such distant cosmic residents as comets
and nebulae. Thus it appears that Chladni's daring hypothesis of
1794 has been more than verified, and that the fragments of matter
dissociated from planetary connection--which be postulated and was
declared atheistic for postulating--have been shown to be billions
of times more numerous than any larger cosmic bodies of which we have
cognizance--so widely does the existing universe differ from man's
preconceived notions as to what it should be.
Thus also the "miracle" of the falling stone, against which the
scientific scepticism of yesterday presented "an evil heart of
unbelief," turns out to be the most natural phenomena, inasmuch as it is
repeated in our atmosphere some millions of times each day.
THE AURORA BOREALIS
If fire-balls were thought miraculous and portentous in days of yore,
what interpretation must needs have been put upon that vastly more
picturesque phenomenon, the aurora? "Through all the city," says the
Book of Maccabees, "for the space of almost forty days, there were seen
horsemen running in the air, in cloth of gold, armed with lances, like
a band of soldiers: and troops of horsemen in array encountering and
running one against another, with shaking of shields and multitude of
pikes, and drawing of swords, and casting of darts, and glittering of
golden ornaments and harness." Dire omens these; and hardly less ominous
the aurora seemed to all succeeding generations that observed it down
well into the eighteenth century--as witness the popular excitement in
England in 1716 over the brilliant aurora of that year, which became
famous through Halley's description.
But after 1752, when Franklin dethroned the lightning, all spectacular
meteors came to be regarded as natural phenomena, the aurora among the
rest. Franklin explained the aurora--which was seen commonly enough in
the eighteenth century, though only recorded once in the seventeenth--as
due to the accumulation of electricity on the surface of polar snows,
and its discharge to the equator through the upper atmosphere. Erasmus
Darwin suggested that the luminosity might be due to the ignition of
hydrogen, which was supposed by many philosophers to form the upper
atmosphere. Dalton, who first measured the height of the aurora,
estimating it at about one hundred miles, thought the phenomenon due
to magnetism acting on ferruginous particles in the air, and his
explanation was perhaps the most popular one at the beginning of the
last century.
Since then a multitude of observers have studied the aurora, but the
scientific grasp has found it as elusive in fact as it seems to casual
observation, and its exact nature is as undetermined to-day as it was a
hundred years ago. There has been no dearth of theories concerning it,
however. Blot, who studied it in the Shetland Islands in 1817, thought
it due to electrified ferruginous dust, the origin of which he ascribed
to Icelandic volcanoes. Much more recently the idea of ferruginous
particles has been revived, their presence being ascribed not to
volcanoes, but to the meteorites constantly being dissipated in the
upper atmosphere. Ferruginous dust, presumably of such origin, has been
found on the polar snows, as well as on the snows of mountain-tops, but
whether it could produce the phenomena of auroras is at least an open
question.
Other theorists have explained the aurora as due to the accumulation of
electricity on clouds or on spicules of ice in the upper air. Yet others
think it due merely to the passage of electricity through rarefied air
itself. Humboldt considered the matter settled in yet another way when
Faraday showed, in 1831, that magnetism may produce luminous effects.
But perhaps the prevailing theory of to-day assumes that the aurora is
due to a current of electricity generated at the equator and passing
through upper regions of space, to enter the earth at the magnetic
poles--simply reversing the course which Franklin assumed.
The similarity of the auroral light to that generated in a vacuum
bulb by the passage of electricity lends support to the long-standing
supposition that the aurora is of electrical origin, but the subject
still awaits complete elucidation. For once even that mystery-solver the
spectroscope has been baffled, for the line it sifts from the aurora is
not matched by that of any recognized substance. A like line is found
in the zodiacal light, it is true, but this is of little aid, for the
zodiacal light, though thought by some astronomers to be due to meteor
swarms about the sun, is held to be, on the whole, as mysterious as the
aurora itself.
Whatever the exact nature of the aurora, it has long been known to
be intimately associated with the phenomena of terrestrial magnetism.
Whenever a brilliant aurora is visible, the world is sure to be visited
with what Humboldt called a magnetic storm--a "storm" which manifests
itself to human senses in no way whatsoever except by deflecting the
magnetic needle and conjuring with the electric wire. Such magnetic
storms are curiously associated also with spots on the sun--just how no
one has explained, though the fact itself is unquestioned. Sun-spots,
too, seem directly linked with auroras, each of these phenomena passing
through periods of greatest and least frequency in corresponding cycles
of about eleven years' duration.
It was suspected a full century ago by Herschel that the variations in
the number of sun-spots had a direct effect upon terrestrial weather,
and he attempted to demonstrate it by using the price of wheat as a
criterion of climatic conditions, meantime making careful observation
of the sun-spots. Nothing very definite came of his efforts in this
direction, the subject being far too complex to be determined without
long periods of observation. Latterly, however, meteorologists,
particularly in the tropics, are disposed to think they find evidence
of some such connection between sun-spots and the weather as Herschel
suspected. Indeed, Mr. Meldrum declares that there is a positive
coincidence between periods of numerous sun-spots and seasons of
excessive rain in India.
That some such connection does exist seems intrinsically probable. But
the modern meteorologist, learning wisdom of the past, is extremely
cautious about ascribing casual effects to astronomical phenomena.
He finds it hard to forget that until recently all manner of climatic
conditions were associated with phases of the moon; that not so very
long ago showers of falling-stars were considered "prognostic" of
certain kinds of weather; and that the "equinoctial storm" had
been accepted as a verity by every one, until the unfeeling hand of
statistics banished it from the earth.
Yet, on the other hand, it is easily within the possibilities that the
science of the future may reveal associations between the weather and
sun-spots, auroras, and terrestrial magnetism that as yet are hardly
dreamed of. Until such time, however, these phenomena must feel
themselves very grudgingly admitted to the inner circle of meteorology.
More and more this science concerns itself, in our age of concentration
and specialization, with weather and climate. Its votaries no
longer concern themselves with stars or planets or comets or
shooting-stars--once thought the very essence of guides to weather
wisdom; and they are even looking askance at the moon, and asking her
to show cause why she also should not be excluded from their domain.
Equally little do they care for the interior of the earth, since they
have learned that the central emanations of heat which Mairan imagined
as a main source of aerial warmth can claim no such distinction. Even
such problems as why the magnetic pole does not coincide with the
geographical, and why the force of terrestrial magnetism decreases from
the magnetic poles to the magnetic equator, as Humboldt first discovered
that it does, excite them only to lukewarm interest; for magnetism,
they say, is not known to have any connection whatever with climate or
weather.
EVAPORATION, CLOUD FORMATION, AND DEW
There is at least one form of meteor, however, of those that interested
our forebears whose meteorological importance they did not overestimate.
This is the vapor of water. How great was the interest in this familiar
meteor at the beginning of the century is attested by the number of
theories then extant regarding it; and these conflicting theories bear
witness also to the difficulty with which the familiar phenomenon of the
evaporation of water was explained.
Franklin had suggested that air dissolves water much as water dissolves
salt, and this theory was still popular, though Deluc had disproved it
by showing that water evaporates even more rapidly in a vacuum than
in air. Deluc's own theory, borrowed from earlier chemists, was that
evaporation is the chemical union of particles of water with particles
of the supposititious element heat. Erasmus Darwin combined the two
theories, suggesting that the air might hold a variable quantity of
vapor in mere solution, and in addition a permanent moiety in chemical
combination with caloric.
Undisturbed by these conflicting views, that strangely original
genius, John Dalton, afterwards to be known as perhaps the greatest
of theoretical chemists, took the question in hand, and solved it by
showing that water exists in the air as an utterly independent gas. He
reached a partial insight into the matter in 1793, when his first volume
of meteorological essays was published; but the full elucidation of
the problem came to him in 1801. The merit of his studies was at once
recognized, but the tenability of his hypothesis was long and ardently
disputed.
While the nature of evaporation was in dispute, as a matter of course
the question of precipitation must be equally undetermined. The most
famous theory of the period was that formulated by Dr. Hutton in a paper
read before the Royal Society of Edinburgh, and published in the volume
of transactions which contained also the same author's epoch-making
paper on geology. This "theory of rain" explained precipitation as due
to the cooling of a current of saturated air by contact with a colder
current, the assumption being that the surplusage of moisture was
precipitated in a chemical sense, just as the excess of salt dissolved
in hot water is precipitated when the water cools. The idea that the
cooling of the saturated air causes the precipitation of its moisture
is the germ of truth that renders this paper of Hutton's important. All
correct later theories build on this foundation.
"Let us suppose the surface of this earth wholly covered with water,"
said Hutton, "and that the sun were stationary, being always vertical in
one place; then, from the laws of heat and rarefaction, there would be
formed a circulation in the atmosphere, flowing from the dark and cold
hemisphere to the heated and illuminated place, in all directions,
towards the place of the greatest cold.
"As there is for the atmosphere of this earth a constant cooling cause,
this fluid body could only arrive at a certain degree of heat; and this
would be regularly decreasing from the centre of illumination to the
opposite point of the globe, most distant from the light and heat.
Between these two regions of extreme heat and cold there would, in every
place, be found two streams of air following in opposite directions. If
those streams of air, therefore, shall be supposed as both sufficiently
saturated with humidity, then, as they are of different temperatures,
there would be formed a continual condensation of aqueous vapor, in some
middle region of the atmosphere, by the commixtion of part of those two
opposite streams.
"Hence there is reason to believe that in this supposed case there would
be formed upon the surface of the globe three different regions--the
torrid region, the temperate, and the frigid. These three regions would
continue stationary; and the operations of each would be continual. In
the torrid region, nothing but evaporation and heat would take place;
no cloud could be formed, because in changing the transparency of the
atmosphere to opacity it would be heated immediately by the operation of
light, and thus the condensed water would be again evaporated. But this
power of the sun would have a termination; and it is these that would
begin the region of temperate heat and of continual rain. It is not
probable that the region of temperance would reach far beyond the region
of light; and in the hemisphere of darkness there would be found a
region of extreme cold and perfect dryness.
"Let us now suppose the earth as turning on its axis in the equinoctial
situation. The torrid region would thus be changed into a zone, in
which there would be night and day; consequently, here would be much
temperance, compared with the torrid region now considered; and here
perhaps there would be formed periodical condensation and evaporation of
humidity, corresponding to the seasons of night and day. As temperance
would thus be introduced into the region of torrid extremity, so would
the effect of this change be felt over all the globe, every part of
which would now be illuminated, consequently heated in some degree. Thus
we would have a line of great heat and evaporation, graduating each way
into a point of great cold and congelation. Between these two extremes
of heat and cold there would be found in each hemisphere a region
of much temperance, in relation to heat, but of much humidity in the
atmosphere, perhaps of continual rain and condensation.
"The supposition now formed must appear extremely unfit for making this
globe a habitable world in every part; but having thus seen the effect
of night and day in temperating the effects of heat and cold in every
place, we are now prepared to contemplate the effects of supposing this
globe to revolve around the sun with a certain inclination of its axis.
By this beautiful contrivance, that comparatively uninhabited globe is
now divided into two hemispheres, each of which is thus provided with
a summer and a winter season. But our present view is limited to the
evaporation and condensation of humidity; and, in this contrivance of
the seasons, there must appear an ample provision for those alternate
operations in every part; for as the place of the vertical sun is moved
alternately from one tropic to the other, heat and cold, the original
causes of evaporation and condensation, must be carried over all the
globe, producing either annual seasons of rain or diurnal seasons of
condensation and evaporation, or both these seasons, more or less--that
is, in some degree.
"The original cause of motion in the atmosphere is the influence of the
sun heating the surface of the earth exposed to that luminary. We have
not supposed that surface to have been of one uniform shape and similar
substance; from whence it has followed that the annual propers of
the sun, perhaps also the diurnal propers, would produce a regular
condensation of rain in certain regions, and the evaporation of humidity
in others; and this would have a regular progress in certain determined
seasons, and would not vary. But nothing can be more distant from this
supposition, that is the natural constitution of the earth; for the
globe is composed of sea and land, in no regular shape or mixture, while
the surface of the land is also irregular with respect to its elevations
and depressions, and various with regard to the humidity and dryness of
that part which is exposed to heat as the cause of evaporation. Hence a
source of the most valuable motions in the fluid atmosphere with aqueous
vapor, more or less, so far as other natural operations will admit; and
hence a source of the most irregular commixture of the several parts of
this elastic fluid, whether saturated or not with aqueous vapor.
"According to the theory, nothing is required for the production of rain
besides the mixture of portions of the atmosphere with humidity, and of
mixing the parts that are in different degrees of heat. But we have seen
the causes of saturating every portion of the atmosphere with humidity
and of mixing the parts which are in different degrees of heat.
Consequently, over all the surface of the globe there should happen
occasionally rain and evaporation, more or less; and also, in every
place, those vicissitudes should be observed to take place with some
tendency to regularity, which, however, may be so disturbed as to be
hardly distinguishable upon many occasions. Variable winds and variable
rains should be found in proportion as each place is situated in an
irregular mixture of land and water; whereas regular winds should be
found in proportion to the uniformity of the surface; and regular rains
in proportion to the regular changes of those winds by which the mixture
of the atmosphere necessary to the rain may be produced. But as it will
be acknowledged that this is the case in almost all this earth where
rain appears according to the conditions here specified, the theory is
found to be thus in conformity with nature, and natural appearances are
thus explained by the theory."(1)
The next ambitious attempt to explain the phenomena of aqueous meteors
was made by Luke Howard, in his remarkable paper on clouds, published in
the Philosophical Magazine in 1803--the paper in which the names cirrus,
cumulus, stratus, etc., afterwards so universally adopted, were first
proposed. In this paper Howard acknowledges his indebtedness to Dalton
for the theory of evaporation; yet he still clings to the idea that
the vapor, though independent of the air, is combined with particles of
caloric. He holds that clouds are composed of vapor that has previously
risen from the earth, combating the opinions of those who believe
that they are formed by the union of hydrogen and oxygen existing
independently in the air; though he agrees with these theorists that
electricity has entered largely into the modus operandi of cloud
formation. He opposes the opinion of Deluc and De Saussure that clouds
are composed of particles of water in the form of hollow vesicles
(miniature balloons, in short, perhaps filled with hydrogen), which
untenable opinion was a revival of the theory as to the formation of all
vapor which Dr. Halley had advocated early in the eighteenth century.
Of particular interest are Howard's views as to the formation of dew,
which he explains as caused by the particles of caloric forsaking the
vapor to enter the cool body, leaving the water on the surface. This
comes as near the truth, perhaps, as could be expected while the old
idea as to the materiality of heat held sway. Howard believed, however,
that dew is usually formed in the air at some height, and that it
settles to the surface, opposing the opinion, which had gained vogue
in France and in America (where Noah Webster prominently advocated it),
that dew ascends from the earth.
The complete solution of the problem of dew formation--which really
involved also the entire question of precipitation of watery vapor in
any form--was made by Dr. W. C. Wells, a man of American birth, whose
life, however, after boyhood, was spent in Scotland (where as a young
man he enjoyed the friendship of David Hume) and in London. Inspired,
no doubt, by the researches of Mack, Hutton, and their confreres of
that Edinburgh school, Wells made observations on evaporation and
precipitation as early as 1784, but other things claimed his attention;
and though he asserts that the subject was often in his mind, he did not
take it up again in earnest until about 1812.
Meantime the observations on heat of Rumford and Davy and Leslie had
cleared the way for a proper interpretation of the facts--about the
facts themselves there had long been practical unanimity of opinion. Dr.
Black, with his latent-heat observations, had really given the clew to
all subsequent discussions of the subject of precipitation of vapor;
and from this time on it had been known that heat is taken up when water
evaporates, and given out again when it condenses. Dr. Darwin had shown
in 1788, in a paper before the Royal Society, that air gives off heat
on contracting and takes it up on expanding; and Dalton, in his essay
of 1793, had explained this phenomenon as due to the condensation and
vaporization of the water contained in the air.
But some curious and puzzling observations which Professor Patrick
Wilson, professor of astronomy in the University of Glasgow, had
communicated to the Royal Society of Edinburgh in 1784, and some similar
ones made by Mr. Six, of Canterbury, a few years later, had remained
unexplained. Both these gentlemen observed that the air is cooler where
dew is forming than the air a few feet higher, and they inferred
that the dew in forming had taken up heat, in apparent violation of
established physical principles.
It remained for Wells, in his memorable paper of 1816, to show that
these observers had simply placed the cart before the horse. He made it
clear that the air is not cooler because the dew is formed, but that
the dew is formed because the air is cooler--having become so through
radiation of heat from the solids on which the dew forms. The dew
itself, in forming, gives out its latent heat, and so tends to equalize
the temperature.
Wells's paper is so admirable an illustration of the lucid presentation
of clearly conceived experiments and logical conclusions that we should
do it injustice not to present it entire. The author's mention of
the observations of Six and Wilson gives added value to his own
presentation.
Dr. Wells's Essay on Dew