«Les plus petits recoins des montagnes, qui peuvent arrêter l'eau de

la pluie, sont certainement fertilisés; ce ne sont pas seulement les

grandes surfaces plates, ni les pentes; ce sont même les faces escarpées

des rochers les plus durs. S'il s'y fait quelque crevasse, un arbre s'y

établit bientôt; et souvent il contribue, par l'accroissement de ses

racines, à accélérer la chute du lambeau de rocher qui l'avoit reçu.

S'il y a quelque petite terrasse, ou seulement quelque partie saillante

grande comme la main, elle est bientôt gazonnée. Les plus petites

sinuosités se peuplent de plantes; et les surfaces les plus unies,

celles mêmes qui sont tournées vers la bas, reçoivent au moins

quelqu'une de ces _mousses_ plates, nommés _lichen_ par les botanistes,

qui ne font en apparence que passer une couleur sur la pierre. Mais

cette couche est écaillée, et elle loge bientôt de petites plantes dans

ses replis; de celles qui veulent l'ardeur du soleil, si le rocher est

au midi, ou la fraîcheur de l'ombre, s'il est au nord: c'est sur ces

rochers en un mot, qui paroissent nues aux spectateurs ordinaires, que

se trouve la plus grande variété de ces petites plantes, qui font les

délices des botanistes, et l'une des sources les plus abondantes où la

médicine puise les secours réels qu'elle fournit à l'humanité.

«Quelle richesse dans les ressources de la nature! La pesanteur n'est

pas plus prête à entraîner les pierres qui se détachent des montagnes,

que l'air à fournir de semences celles qui se fixent: et dès qu'une fois

elles sont recouvertes de plantes, elles sont certainement fixées pour

toujours, du moins contre les injures de l'air. Le fait même nous

l'annonce. Si ces ravins ou ces terreins quelconques, tendoient encore à

rouler ou à se dégrader, en un mot à se detruire de quelque manière que

ce fut, ils ne le recouvriroient, ni de _mousses_ ni d'aucune autre

plante. La première végétation est due à quelque dépôt de _terre

végétable_; et les pluies ou l'air n'en forment que lentement; le

moindre mouvement la détruite. Le terrein est donc bien certainement

fixe quand il se recouvre de plantes; et s'il s'y accumule de la _terre

végétable_, c'est un signe bien evident que rien ne l'attaque plus: car

elle seroit la première emportée si quelque cause extérieure tendoit a

detruire le sol qui la porte.»

The doctrine here laid down by our author consists in this; first, That

there is a genus of plants calculated to grow upon rocks or stones;

those hard bodies then decay, in decomposing themselves, and affording

sustenance to the plants which they sustain. Secondly, That by this

dissolution of those rocks, and the accumulation of those vegetable

bodies, there is soil prepared for the nurture and propagation of

another genus of plants, by which the surface of the earth, naturally

barren, is to be fertilised. It is also in this natural progress of

things that the solid parts of the globe come to be wasted in the

operations of the surface, and that lofty rocks are levelled, in

always tending to bring the uneven surface of the earth to a slope of

vegetating or fertile soil.

Here we are to distinguish carefully between the facts described by this

author, who has seen so much of nature, and the conclusion which

he would draw from his principles. The surface of most stones are

dissolved, or corroded by the air and moisture. This gives lodgement to

the roots of plants, which grow, die, and decay; and these are carried

away with the earthy parts of the solid stone, in order to form a

vegetable soil for larger plants, growing upon some bottom or resting

place to which that earth is carried. Here is so far the purpose of

rocks, to sustain a genus of plants which are contrived to live

upon that soil; and here is so far a purpose for certain plants, in

decomposing rocks to form a soil for other plants which have been made

upon a larger scale, and are adapted to the use of man, the ultimate in

the view of nature.

Our author concludes thus: (p. 37.) «Le tems ne fera qu'augmenter

l'épaisseur de la couche de _terre végétable_ qui couvre les montagnes,

et qui les garantit ainsi de plus en plus de cette destruction à

laquelle on les croit exposés: les pluies en un mot, au lieu de les

dégrader comme on se l'imagine y accumuleront leurs dépôts. Tel

est l'agent simple qu'employe si admirablement le Createur pour la

conservation de son ouvrage.»

Such, indeed, is the admirable contrivance of the system, that, in the

works of nature, nothing shall be destroyed more than is necessary for

the preservation of the whole. But, that the whole is preserved by the

necessary destruction of every individual body, and the change of every

part which comes within the examination of our senses, is sufficiently

evident to require no farther illustration in this place, where we are

contemplating the destruction of the strongest things, by means the most

effectual, though really slow, and apparently most feeble.

In his 30th letter, this author describes the progress of nature, in

bringing precipitous rocks to that slope and covering of soil which is

to maintain plants of every kind, and to establish woods. (P. 40.) «J'ai

l'honneur d'exposer à V.M. les causes qui garantissent de destruction

extérieure les terreins sur lesquels la _pesanteur_ ne peut plus agir

que pour les consolider. Mais ce n'est pas ainsi que sont actuellement

la plupart de nos montagnes; il en est peu qui soyent déjà parvenus à

cet état permanent. Tout roc nud est attaqué par l'air et les météores,

et il tend à se détruire quelle que soit sa dureté. Mais ce seroit

peu que cette destruction extérieure; elle pourroit même cesser enfin

totalement par l'effet seul des _mousses_, s'il n'y avoit pas des causes

plus puissantes qui pendant quelque tems agissent dans l'intérieur.

«Il n'est presque point de rocher qui offre à l'air une seule masse

compacte; ils sont ou crevassés, ou formés par couches; et l'eau

s'insinue toujours dans ces fentes. Quand cette eau vient à se geler,

elle agit comme un coin pour écarter les pièces entre lesquelles elle se

trouve. V.M. seroit étonnée de la grandeur des masses que cette cause

peut mouvoir: elle agit exactement comme la poudre à canon dans les

mines; détachant toutes les pièces extérieures qui commencent à se

séparer, et en découvrant ainsi de nouvelles. Chaque hiver renouvelle

donc la surface de certains rochers, ou facilite l'ouvrage pour les

hivers suivans.

Plusieurs autres causes agissent encore pour séparer les rochers déjà

crevassés, qui se trouvent à l'extérieur des faces escarpées. Le petit

moellon qui s'y accumule, les dépôts des pluies, les plantes qui y

croissent, les alternatives de l'humidité et de la sécheresse, les

vicissitudes de la chaleur, les vents même, sont autant de causes

continuellement agissantes quand la _pesanteur_ les seconde. Les rochers

escarpés se détruisent donc par de continuels éboulemens.

«Mais toutes ces matières qui tombent, ne sont pas perdues pour les

montagnes; il s'en perd même bien peu. Elles s'arrêtent au pied

des rochers dont elles sont successivement détachées; et là elles

s'entassent, s'élevant en forme de _talus_ contre ces rochers

eux-mêmes.»

If the solid body of the Alps, the most consolidated masses of our land,

is thus reduced to the state of soil upon the surface of the earth

contrived for the use of plants, _a fortiori_, softer bodies, less

elevated and less consolidated masses, will be considered as easily

arriving at the purpose for which the surface of the earth has been

intended. We only wish now to see the ultimate effect that necessarily

follows from this progress of things; and how, in this course of nature,

the land must end, however long protracted shall be the duration of this

body, and however much economy may be perceived in this gradual waste of

land;--a waste which by no means is so slow as not to be perceived by

men reasoning in science; although scientific men, either reasoning for

the purpose of a system which they had devised, or, deceived by the

apparent state of things which truly change, may not acknowledge the

necessary consequence of what they had perceived.

Let us now suppose all the solid mass of land, contained in our

continent, to be transformed into soil and vegetable earth, it must be

evident that no covering of plants, or interlacing of vegetable fibres,

could protect this mass of loose or incoherent materials from the

ravages of floods, so long as rivers flowed, nor from being swallowed by

the ocean, so long as there were winds and tides. From the border of

the land upon the shore, to the middle of the ocean, there is either at

present an equable declivity at the bottom of the sea, or every thing

tends to form this declivity, in gradually moving bodies along this

bottom. But, however gradual the declivity of the bottom, or however

slow the progress of loose materials from the shore towards the deepest

bottom of the sea, so long as there are moving powers for those

materials, they must have a progress to that end; the law of

gravitation, always active, must prevail, and sooner or later the moving

sea must swallow up the land.

But, along the borders of our continent, and in the courses of our

rivers, there are rocks; these must be surmounted or destroyed, before

the parts which they protect can be delivered up to the influence of

those moving powers which tend to form a level; and we may be assured

that those bulwarks waste. The bare inspection of our rocky coasts and

rivers will satisfy the enlightened observator of this truth; and to

endeavour to prove this to a person who has not principles by which to

reason upon the subject, or to one who has false principles, by which he

would create perpetual stability to decaying things, would be but labour

lost.

In proportion as the solid bulwark is destroyed, so is the soil which

had been protected by it; and, in proportion as the solid parts of the

mass of land are exposed to the influences of the atmosphere and water,

by the ablution of the soil, more soil is prepared for the growth of

plants, and more earth is detached from the solid rock, to form deep

soils upon the surface of the earth, and to establish fertile countries

at the mouths of rivers, even in making encroachment on the space

allotted for the sea. But this production of land, in augmentation of

our coasts, is only made by the destruction of the higher country.

While, therefore, we allow that there is any augmentation made to the

coast, or any earthy matter travelling in our rivers, the land above the

coast cannot be stable, nor the constitution of our earth fixed in a

state which has no tendency to be removed.

M. de Luc, in his Histoire de la Terre, would make the mountains last

for ever, after they have come to a certain slope. He sums up his

reasoning upon this subject in these words: «L'adoucissement des pentes

arrête d'abord l'effet de ces deux grandes causes causes de destruction

de montagnes, la _pesanteur_ et les _eaux_: la végétation ensuite arrêté

l'effet de toutes les petites cause.»

If all the great and little causes of demolition are arrested by the

slope of mountains and the growth of plants, the surface of the earth

might then remain without any farther change; and this would be a fact

in opposition to the present theory, which represents the surface of the

earth as constantly tending to decay, for the purpose of vegetation,

and as being only preserved from a quick destruction by the solid rocks

protecting, from the ravages of the floods and sea, the loose materials

of the land. It will therefore be proper to show, that this author's

argument does not go to prove his proposition in the terms which he has

given it, which is, that those sloped mountains are to last for ever,

but only that these causes, which he has so well described, make the

destruction of the mountains become more slow[9].

[Footnote 9: This also would appear to be a part of that wise system of

nature, in which nothing is done in vain, and in which every thing

tends to accomplish the end with the greatest marks of economy and

benevolence. Had it been otherwise, and the demolishing powers of the

land increased, in a growing rate with the diminution of the height,

the changes of this earth and renovation of our continent, in which

occasionally animal life must suffer, would necessarily require to be

often repeated; and, in that case, chaos and confusion would seem to be

introduced into that system which at present appears to be established

with such order and economy that man suspects not any change; it

requires the views of scientific men to perceive that things are not at

present such as they were created; it requires all the observation of a

natural philosopher to know that in this earth there had been change,

although it is not every natural philosopher that observes the

benevolence accompanying this constitution of things which must subsist

in change.]

The slope which our author gives to his mountains, in order to secure

them from the ravages of time, is that which, according to his own

reasoning, renders them fertile and proper for the culture of man; but

fertile soil yields always something to the floods to carry away; and,

while any thing is carried from the soil, the land must waste, although

it may not then waste at the rate of those within the valleys of the

Alps. According to the doctrine of this author, our mountains of

Tweeddale and Tiviotdale, being all covered with vegetation, are arrived

at that period in the course of things when they should be permanent.

But is it really so? Do they never waste? Look at the rivers in a

flood;--if these run clear, this philosopher has reasoned right, and I

have lost my argument. Our clearest streams run muddy in a flood. The

great causes, therefore, for the degradation of mountains never stop as

long as there is water to run; although, as the heights of mountains

diminish, the progress of their diminution may be more and more

retarded.

Let us now see how far our author has reasoned justly with regard to

vegetation, which, he says, stops the effects of all the little causes

of destruction; this is the more necessary, as, in the present theory,

it is the little causes, long continued, which are considered as

bringing about the greatest changes of the earth.

Along the courses of our rivers there are plains between the mountains

of greater or lesser extent; these are almost always fertile, and

generally cultivated when large; when small, they are in pasture. The

origin of these fertile soils, and their perpetual change, is to be

described with a view to show, that vegetation, although most powerful

in stopping the ravages of water, and for accumulating soil retained

by this means, does it only for a time; after which the soil is again

abandoned to the ravages of the running water, when no more protected by

the vegetation.

Let us suppose the river running upon the one side of the haugh (which

is the name we gave those little fertile plains) and close by the side

of the mountain. In this case the bed of the river is deepest at the

side of the mountain, which it undermines, leaving a falling _(un

éboulement)_ on that side; on the other side, the river shelves

gradually from the plain, and leaves soil in its bottom or stony bed

upon the side of the haugh, in proportion as it makes advances in

carrying away the bank at the bottom of the sloping mountain. The part

which vegetation takes in this operation is now to be considered.

When the river has enlarged its bed by preying upon one side, whether of

the mountain or the haugh, the water only covers it in a flood; at other

times, it leaves it dry. Here, among the rocks and stones, the feeds of

plants, left by the water or blown by the wind, spring up and grow; and,

in little floods, some sand and mud is left among those plants; this

encourages the growth of other plants, which more and more retain the

fertile spoils of the river in its floods. At last, this bed of the

river is covered perfectly with plants, which having retained plenty of

fertile soil, although still rooted among the stones, opposes to the

river a resistance which its greatest velocity is not able to overcome.

In this state, the haugh is always deepening or increasing its soil, and

has its surface heightened. At last, when this soil becomes so high as

only to be flooded now and then, it becomes most fertile, as the

heavier parts are carried in the bed of the river, and the lighter soil

deposited upon the plain. The operations of the river, upon the plain,

thus increase at the same time the height and fertility of the haugh.

But this operation, of accumulated soil upon the stony bottom, has a

period, at which time the river must return again upon its steps, and

sweep away the haugh which it had formed. This is the natural course of

things; and it happens necessarily from the deepening of the soil. Let

us then examine this operation.

When no more soil is left upon the stony bottom than is sufficient for

the covering of the ground, and rooting of plants which are also fixed

in the solid ground or bottom of the soil, the water is not able to

carry away the plants; and these plants protect the surface of loose

soil. When again there is a depth of soil accumulated upon the haugh,

the surface only is protected by the vegetable covering. But what avails

it to the soil to be protected from above, when undermined by the enemy!

The vegetable roots now no longer reaching to the bottom where solidity

is found, the tender soil below is easily washed away by the continued

efforts of the stream; and the unsupported meadow, with the impregnable

texture of its leaves, its roots, and its fibres, falls ruinously into

the river, and is born away in triumph by the flood. The water thus

reclaims its long deserted bed,--only in order to pass from it again,

and circulate or meander from hill to hill in varying perpetually its

course.

Now this progress of the river, or this changing of its bed, is

determined by the strong resistance of the new made haugh, humbly

standing firm in the protection of its vegetation, while the elevated

surface of the older haugh, deserted by the inferior soil which it had

ceased to protect, falls a victim to its exalted state, and passes away

to aggrandize another. This is the fate of haughs or plains erected by

the operations of a river, and again destroyed in the natural course of

things, or in the very continuation of that active cause by which they

had been formed.

The water is constantly carrying the moveable soil from the higher to

the lower place; vegetation often disputes the possession of these

spoils of ruined mountains for a while; but, in the end, this vegetable

protector, not only delivers up to the destroying cause the mineral soil

which it had preserved, but, by its buoyancy in water, it facilitates

the transportation of the stony parts to which this fibrous body is

attached. Over and over a thousand times may be repeated this alternate

possession of the transferable soil, by moving water on the one part and

by fixed vegetation on the other, but at last all must land upon the

shore, whether the river tends. Thus the mountain and the plain, the

vegetable earth and the plants produced in that soil, must all return

into the sea from whence either they themselves or their materials had

come. In proportion as the mountains are diminished, the haugh or plain

between them grows more wide, and also on a lower level; but, while

there is a river running in a plain, and floods produced in the seasons

of rain, there can be nothing stable in this constitution of things

evidently founded upon change.

The description now given is from the rivers of this country, where it

is not unfrequent to see relicts of three or four different haughs which

had occupied the same spot of ground upon different levels, consequently

which had been formed and destroyed at different periods of time. But

the same operation is transacted every where; it is seen upon the plains

of Indostan, as in the haughs of Scotland; the Ganges operates upon its

banks, and is employed in changing its bed continually as well as the

Tweed[10]. The great city of Babylon was built upon the haugh of a river.

What is become of that city? nothing remains,--even the place, on which

it stood, is not known.

[Footnote 10: An Account of the Ganges and Burrampooter Rivers, by James

Rennel, Esquire. Philosophical Transactions, 1781.]

CHAP. VII.

_The Same Subject continued, in giving a View

of the Operations of Air and Water upon the

Surface of the Land._

We have but to enlarge our thoughts with regard to things past by

attending to what we see at present, and we shall understand many things

which to a more contracted view appear to be in nature insulated or

without a proper cause; such are those great blocks of granite so

foreign to the place on which they stand, and so large as to seem to

have been transported by some power unnatural to the place from whence

they came. We have but to consider the surface of this earth as having

been upon a higher level; as having been every where the beds of rivers,

which had moved the matter of strata and fragments of rocks, now no more

existing; and as thus disposed upon different planes, which are, like

the haughs of rivers, changing in a continual succession, but changing

upon a scale too slow to be perceived. M. de Luc has given a picture

which is very proper to assist our imagination in contemplating a more

ancient state of this earth, although in this he has a very different

end in view, and means to show that the world, which we inhabit at

present, is of a recent date. It is in the 32d letter of his Histoire de

la Terre, which I beg leave here to transcribe.

«Des montagnes basses (comme le _Jura_, qui est bas comparativement aux

Alpes) sont bientôt fixées par ce moyen. Il ne se fait presque qu'un

seul _talus_ depuis leur sommet jusques dans les basses vallées, ou sur

la plaine. Aussi l'état de ces montagnes est-il déjà presqu'entièrement

_fixé_: on y voit très peu de rochers nuds qui s'éboulent, excepté,

auprès des _rivières_. C'est dans ces lieux-la que l'ouvrage tarde le

plus à se finir. Le bas des _talus_ est miné par l'eau; leur surface

s'éboule donc, pour ainsi dire, sans cesse, et laisse à découvert les

rochers des sommets, qui par la continuent aussi à _s'ébouler_. Mais

les vallées s'élargissent enfin; et les _talus_ s'éloignant ainsi des

_rivières_, commencent à éprouver les influences du repos.»

Here nothing can be more positively described than the natural

destruction of those mountains by the operation of the rivers which run

between them; and this is from the authority of matter of fact, which,

on all occasions, this author faithfully describes. At the same time, we

are desired to believe, upon no better authority than the imagination of

a person hurried on by system, that those mountains are absolutely

to come to rest. I am aware of the danger to which a spirit of

systematising leads; and I wish for nothing more than to have my Theory

strictly examined, in comparing it with nature.

Our author thus proceeds: «La vue seule de la chaine du _Jura_ nous

apprend donc ce que deviendroit enfin toutes les montagnes. Dans la

plus grande partie de son étendue, il ne souffre plus aucun changement

ruineux: la _végétation_ le recouvre presque partout. Les bas sont

cultivés de toute sorte de manière suivant leur exposition; les sommets

sont couverts de pelouses, qui forment les pâturages les plus precieux.

Cette gazonade s'étend aussi sur toutes les parties des pentes qui ne

sont pas trop rapides, et le reste est couvert de bois.

«J'ai parcouru fort souvent le pied de ces montagnes: leur état est

presque partout tel que je viens d'avoir l'honneur de la descrire à V.M.

J'ai sur-tout observé avec attention les lits des _torrens_ qui, en

descendent pour se rendre dans les lacs de _Geneva_, de _Neufchâtel_ et

de _Bienne_, ainsi que dans l'Aar et dans le Rhin: et hormis ceux de ces

_torrens_ qui viennent des gorges où les terrains sont encore escarpés,

ils ne roulent plus que l'ancien gravier qu'ils out apporté autrefois.

«Mais il n'en est pas ainsi des _Alpes_, des _Pyrénées_, et des autres

montagnes, qui, comme celles-là, sont beaucoup plus élevées, ou qui

sans l'être davantage ont été livrées aux influences de l'air dans un

désordre plus grand. Dans ce genre de montagnes il reste encore à la

_végétation_ de bien grandes conquêtes à faire.

«Ces montagnes ne sont pas telles que V.M. pourroit se les figurer

naturellement; il faut y être monté pour s'en former une juste idée. Ce

sont des montagnes sur d'autres montagnes. De près on ne voit que les

parties inférieures; de loin tout se confond; il faut donc être arrivé

sur une des premières _terrasses_ pour voir les secondes; sur celles-ci

pour les troisièmes; et ainsi de suite.

«La plupart de ces _terrasses_ successives sont de grandes plaines,

dominées par des rochers qui s'éboulent, et forment des _talus_. Si dans

la succession des siècles, les _éboulemens_ de ces bandes de rochers en

amphithéâtre finissoient sans emporter les plaines qu'ils soutiennent,

et que les _torrens_ eussent creusé leur lit pendant ce tems là à

quelque distance des _talus_ tout seroit fini par cette première

operation. Mais il y a peu de hautes montagnes où les arrangemens soient

si simples: souvent ces bandes empiètent les unes sur les autres en

_s'éboulant_, et alors le repos est bien différé.

«Supposons que ces _terrasses_ soient étroites, et que leurs murs,

c'est-à-dire les rochers qui les soutiennent, soient fort élevés. Les

_terrasses_ alors ne suffiront pas pour recevoir les _éboulemens_ qui

doivent se faire sur elles car le dessus de chacune d'elles s'étrécit

de plus en plus par la destruction du rocher qui la soutient. Il pourra

donc arriver que ce talus, s'étant étendu jusqu'au bord de la terrasse,

se trouve reposer sur une base qui s'éboule encore; et même cela arrive

très souvent; de sorte qu'à chaque rétrécissement de la base, le _talus_

lui-même s'éboule. Ainsi deux _talus_, qui étoient peut-être déjà en

pleine végétation par la lenteur des éboulemens des rochers qui les

formoient, pourront être fort reculés à cet égard; le _talus_ supérieur,

parce que la surface fertilisée glissera en bas; et le _talus_

inférieur, parce que la sienne sera ensevelie sous de nouveaux

décombres.

«Les montagnes qui sont dans ce cas seront proportionnellement plus

abaissées que les autres; parce que leurs _talus_ se confondant ainsi et

devenant par là fort étendus demeureront longtemps à devenir solides.

Les eaux partant de fort haut, auront le tems de s'y rassembler et de

devenir destructives vers le bas. Au lieu que dans les montagnes où

les terrasses subsisteront encore après que tous les rochers se seront

_éboulés_, les eaux étant reçues par reprises, perdront beaucoup de

leur rapidité. Elles se rassembleront dans les enfoncemens des petites

vallées supérieures, elles s'y formeront des lits qu'elles ne rongeront

presque point; et la _végétation_ restera tranquille partout.»

Let us now consider the height of the _Alps_, in general, to have been

much greater than it is at present; and this is a supposition of which

we have no reason to suspect the fallacy; for, the wasted summits of

those mountains attest its truth. There would then have been immense

valleys of ice sliding down in all directions towards the lower country,

and carrying large blocks of granite to a great distance, where they

would be variously deposited, and many of them remain an object of

admiration to after ages, conjecturing from whence, or how they came.

Such are the great blocks of granite which now repose upon the hills

of _Saleve_. M. de Saussure, who has examined them carefully, gives

demonstration of the long time during which they have remained in their

present place. The lime-stone bottom around being dissolved by the rain,

while that which serves as the basis of those masses stands high above

the rest of the rock, in having been protected from the rain. But no

natural operation of the globe can explain the transportation of those

bodies of stone, except the changed state of things arising from the

degradation of the mountains.

Every thing, therefore, tends to show that the surface of the earth must

wear; but M. de Luc, although he allows the principles on which this

reasoning is founded, labours to prove that those destructive causes

will not operate in time. Now, What would be the consequence of such a

system?--That the source of vegetation upon the surface of the earth

would cease at last, and perfect sterility be necessarily the effect of

allowing no farther degradation to the surface of the earth; for, What

is to supply the matter of plants? Water, air, and light alone, will not

suffice; there are necessarily required other elements which the earth

alone affords. If, therefore, this world is to continue, as it has done,

to form continents of calcareous strata at the bottom of the ocean, the

animals which form these strata, with their _exuviae_, must be fed. But,

on what can they be fed? not on water alone; the consequence of such a

supposition would lead us to absurdity; nor can they be fed on any

other element without the dissolution of land. According to my views of

things, it is certain that those animals are ultimately fed on vegetable

bodies; and it is equally certain, that plants require a soil on which

they may not only fix their fibrous roots, but find their nourishment

at least in part; for, that air, water, and the matter of light, also

contribute, cannot be doubted. But if animals, which are to form the

strata of the earth, are to be fed on plants, and these are to be

nourished by the matter of this earth, the waste of vegetable matter

upon the surface of the earth must be repaired; the exhausted soil must

be transported from the surface of the land; and fertility must be

restored by the gradual decay of solid parts, and by the successive

removal of soil from stage to stage. What a reverie, therefore, is that

idea, of bringing the earth to perfection by fixing the state of its

vegetable surface!

The description of those natural operations, which M. de Luc has given

with a view to establish the duration of the mountains, is founded upon

nothing but their destruction. These beds of rivers, which, according

to our author, are _hardly_ to be wasted any more, will not satisfy a

philosopher, who requires to see no degree of wasting in a body which is

to remain for ever, or continue without change. But, however untenable

this supposition of a fixed state in the surface of this earth, the

accuracy of the natural philosopher may still be observed in the

absurdity of the proposition. «L'état des _montagnes_ sera _fixe_,

partout où les _rivières_ seront arrivées au point de n'emporter pas

plus de limon hors de leur enceinte, que l'air et les pluies n'y

déposeront de _terre végétable_, et voila enfin quel sera le repos,

l'état permanent de la surface de notre globe. Car alors il y aura

compensation entre les destructions et les réparations simultanées, et

les montagnes sûrement ne s'abaisseront plus.»

Surely, if there is in the system of nature wisdom, we may look for

compensation between the destroying and repairing operations of the

globe. But why seek for this compensation in the _rest_ or immobility of

things? Why suppose perfection in the want of change? The summit of the

Alps was once the bottom of the sea; the existence of our land depended

then upon the change of seas and continents. But has the earth already

undergone so great changes, and is it not yet arrived at the period

of its perfection? How can a philosopher, who is so much employed

in contemplating the beauty of nature, the wisdom and goodness of

Providence, allow himself to entertain such mean ideas of the system as

to suppose, that, in the indefinite succession of time past, there has

not been perfection in the works of nature? Every material being exists

in motion, every immaterial being in action and in passion; rest exists

not any where; nor is it found in any other way, except among the parts

of space. Surely it is contrary to every species of philosophy, whether

ancient or modern, to found a system on the inutility of repose, or

place perfection in the vacuity of rest, when every thing that truly

exists, exists in motion; when every real information which we have is

derived from a change; and when every excess in nature is compensated,

not by rest, but by alternation.

M. de Luc allows the rivers to carry matter always to the sea; but

then, at a certain period, this matter carried by the floods is to be

compensated to the mountains by the vegetable earth received from the

air and rains. Here is a proposition which should be well considered,

before it be admitted as a principle, which shall establish the

perpetuity of these mountains, if it be true; or, if false, assure us of

their future demolition. Let us now examine it.

If from air and rain there is produced earth which cannot afterwards be

resolved by the operation of those elements, and thus again dissolved

in the air and water of the land, then this author might have had some

pretext, however insufficient, for alledging that it might be possible

to compensate the loss of mineral substances, carried off the surface of

the earth, by the production of this vegetable matter from the air and

rain; but, when there is not sufficient reason to conclude that any

substance, produced in vegetation, can resist the continued influences

of the air and water, without being decomposed in its principles, and at

last entirely dissolved in water, the cautious argument here employed by

this author, for the permanency of mountains, must appear as groundless

in its principle as it would be insufficient for his purpose, were it to

be admitted; but this will require some discussion.

That which preserves vegetable bodies so long from dissolution in water,

is what may be called the inflammable or phlogistic composition of those

bodies. This composition is quickly resolved in combustion; but it is no

less surely resolved by the influences of the sun and atmosphere, only

in a slower manner. Therefore, to place the permanency of this earth, or

any of its surface, upon a substance which in that situation necessarily

decays, is to form a speculation inconsistent with the principles of

natural philosophy[11].

[Footnote 11: It is from inadvertency to this fact in natural history,

the consuming of vegetable substances exposed to the influences of the

atmosphere, that M. de Luc, in his _Histoire de la Terre_, has pretended

to determine the past duration of the German heaths as not of a very

high antiquity. He has measured the increase of the vegetable soil, an

increase formed by the accumulation of the decayed heath; and, from the

annual increase or deposits of vegetable matter on that surface, he has

formed a calculation which he then applies to every period of this turfy

augmentation, not considering that there may be definitive causes which

increase with this growing soil, and which, increasing at a greater rate

in proportion as the soil augments, may set a period to the further

augmentation of that vegetable soil. Such is fire in the burning of

those parched heaths; such is the slower but constant and growing

operation of the oxygenating atmosphere upon this turfy substance

exposed to the air and moisture. This author has very well described the

constant augmentation of this vegetable substance in the morasses of

that country, as it also happens in those of our own; but there is a

wide difference in those two cases of peat bog and healthy turf; the

vegetable substance in the morass is under water, and therefore has

its inflammable quality or combustible substance protected from the

consuming operation of the vital or atmospheric air; the turfy soil,

on the contrary, is exposed to this source of resolution in the other

situation.]

But even supposing that the degradation of mountains were to be

suspended by the pretended compensation which is formed, by the rivers

carrying mineral mud into the sea, and the air and rain producing

vegetable earth; in what must this operation end? In carrying into the

sea, to be deposited at its bottom, all the vegetable earth produced

by the air and rain. But our cosmologist, in thus procuring an eternal

station to his mountains, has not told us whether this transmutation of

the air and rain be a finite operation, or one that is infinite; whether

it be in other respects confident with the natural operations of the

globe; and whether, to have the air and water of the globe converted

into earth, would ultimately promote, or not, that perfection which he

wishes to establish. Here, therefore, in allowing to this philosophy all

its suppositions, it would be necessary to make another compensation, in

preserving mountains at the expense of air and rain; and, the waste of

air and water, which are limited, would require to be repaired.

It is not in our purpose here to treat of moral causes; but this author

having endeavoured to fortify his system by observing, that the world

certainly cannot be ancient, since men have not ceased as yet to quarrel

and fight, (Lettre 34.) it may be proper to observe, that the absolute

rest of land, like the peace among mankind, will never happen till those

things are changed in their nature and constitution, that is to say,

until the matter of this globe shall be no more a living world, and man

no more an animal that reasons from his proper knowledge, which is still

imperfect. If man must learn to reason, as children learn to speak, he

must reason erroneously before he reasons right; therefore, philosophers

will differ in their opinions as long as there is any thing for man to

learn. But this is right; for, how are false opinions to be corrected,

except in being opposed by the opinions of other men? It is foolish,

indeed, for men to quarrel and fight, because they differ in opinion.

Man quarrels properly, when he is angry; and anger perhaps is almost

always ultimately founded upon erroneous opinion. But, in nature, there

is no opinion; there is truth in every thing that is in nature; and in

man alone is error. Let us, therefore, in studying nature, learn to

know the truth, and not indulge erroneous notions, by endeavouring to

correct, in nature, that which perhaps is only wrong in our opinion.

Having shown that every thing, which is moveable upon the surface of

the land, tends to the sea, however slowly in its pace, we are now to

examine, what comes of those materials deposited within the regions of

the waves, still however within the reach of man, and still subservient

more immediately to that soil on which plants grow, and man may dwell.

As, from the summit of the land, the natural tendency of moveable bodies

is to fall into the water of the sea, so, from the borders of the land

or coast, there being a declivity towards the deepest bottom of the

sea, and there being currents in the waters of the ocean occasionally

rendered more rapid on the shore, every moveable thing must tend to

travel from the coast, and to proceed alone; the shelving bottom of the

sea into the unfathomable deep, when they are beyond the reach of man or

the possibility of returning to the shore.

But it is not every where upon the coast that those materials are

equally delivered; neither is it every where along the shore that the

currents of the ocean are equally perceived, or operate with equal power

in moving bodies along the shelving bottom of the sea. Hence in some

places deep water is found washing rocky coasts, where the waste of land

is only to be perceived from what is visibly wanting in the continuity

of those hard and solid bodies. In other places, again, the land appears

to grow and to encroach upon the space which had been occupied by the

sea; for here the materials of the land are so accumulated on the coast,

that the bottom of the sea is filled up, and dry land is formed in the

bafon of the sea, from those materials which the rivers had brought down

upon the shore.[12]

[Footnote 12: We are not however to estimate this operation, of forming

soil by the muddy waters of a river depositing sediment, in the manner

that M. de Luc has endeavoured to calculate the short time elapsed in

forming the marshlands of the Elbe. This philosopher, with a view to

show that the present earth has not subsisted long since the time it had

appeared above the surface of the sea, has given an example of the marsh

of _Wisebhafen_ where the earth, wasted by inundation, was in a very

little time replaced, and the soil heightened by the flowings of the

Elbe, and this he marks as a leading fact or principle, in calculating

the past duration of our continents, of which he says, we are not to

lose sight (Tome 5, p. 136.) But here this philosopher does not seem

to be aware, that he is calculating upon very false grounds, when he

compares two things which are by no means alike, the natural operations

of a river upon its banks, making and unmaking occasionally its haughs

or level lands, that is to say, alternately making and destroying, and

the artificial operations of man receiving the muddy water of a tide-way

into the still water of a pond formed by his ramparts; yet, it is by

this last operation that our author forms an estimate which he applies

to the age of this earth, in calculating how long time might have been

required for producing the marsh lands of the Elbe.

I would here ask if he can calculate what time it may have required to

hollow out the bed of the Elbe from its source to the sea; and to tell

how often the marsh-lands, which he now sees cultivated, had been formed

and destroyed by the river before they were cultivated in their present

state; or if there is any security that they shall not again be taken

away by the river, and again formed in the same place. If this is the

case, that the river is constantly changing the fertile lands, which it

forms by its inundation, what judgement are we to form by calculating

the quantity of sediment in a certain measure of its muddy water.]

Holland affords the very best example of this fact. It is a low country

formed in the sea. This low land is situated in the bottom of a deep

bay, or upon the coast of a shallow sea, where more materials are

brought by the great rivers from the land of Germany than what the

currents of the sea can carry out into the deep. Here banks of sand are

gathered together by streams and tides; this sand is blown in hillocks

by the wind; and those sand hills are retained by the plants which have

taken root and fixed those moving sands. Behind that chain of hillocks,

which line the sea shore, the waters of the rivers formed a lake, and

the bottom of this lake had been gradually filled up or heightened by

materials travelling in the rivers, and here finding rest. It grew up

until it became a marsh; then man took possession of the soil; he has

turned it to his own life; and, by artificial ramparts of his forming,

preserves it in the present state, some parts above the level of the

sea, others considerably below the ordinary rise of tides. M de Luc,

who has given a very scientific view of this country in his Lettres

Physiques et Morales, has there also furnished us with the following

register of what had been found by sinking in that soil. It was at

Amsterdam at the year 1605 in making a well.

«Voici la désignation des matières qui furent trouvées en partant de la

surface.

51 pieds, mêlés _de sable tourbeux_, de fable

_des dunes pur_ et _d'argile_ ou

limon.

22.---de même _sable des dunes pur_,

et _d'argile_ bleuâtre.

14.---du même _sable_ pur.

87 pieds.--Ou rien encore n'indiquoit la

présence de la mer.

55.---de _sable marin_, et _de limon_,

mêles l'un et l'autre de _coquilles_

dans plusieurs couches.

142 pieds.--Soit la plus grande profondeur,

où s'est manifestée la _présence_

de la mer.

49.---_Argille_ dure sans mélange de

coquilles, soit que ce soit une

couche _argilleuse continentale,_

ou les premiers dépôts des

fleuves; ce qu'il est difficile de

Déterminer.

191 pieds.

13.---Sable mêlé de pierres; qui est

enfin sûrement le _sol_ vierge

continental.

28.---Sable pur; continental encore;

car j'ai remarqué partout

dans la _Geest_, que c'est

dans la couche supérieure, à

une petite profondeur que se

trouvent les pierres; au-dessous

le _sable_ est pur.

232 pieds.--C'est à cette profondeur, ou

dans la masse de ces deux dernières

couches, que se trouva

l'eau douce, et par conséquent

le vrai _sol continental_.»

The light that we have from this pit which has been made in the soil,

according to my view of the subject, is this, that here is the depth of

232 feet in travelled soil, and no solid bottom found at this distance

from the surface or level of the sea. How far this depth may be from the

bottom of these travelled materials is unknown; but this is certain,

that all that depth, which has been sunk, had been filled up with those

materials[13].

[Footnote 13: An interesting map for the use of natural history would be

made by tracing the places (behind this country of loose or travelled

soil) where the solid strata appear above the level of the sea. We

should be thus able to form some notion of the quantity of materials

which had been deposited in the water of this sea. But, though we might

thus enlarge our views a little with regard to the transactions of time

past, it would only be in a most imperfect manner that we would thus

form a judgment; for, not knowing the quantity of sand and mud carried

out by the currents from the German sea into the Atlantic, we could only

thus perceive a certain minimum, which is perhaps a little portion of

the whole.]

It will thus appear of what unstable materials is composed the land of

that temporary country. It will also be evident, that, by removing

the sand banks of this coast, the whole of this low country would be

swallowed by the sea, notwithstanding every effort that the power of man

could make. But it may be alledged, that those sand banks are increasing

still with the alluvion of Germany, instead of being in a decreasing

state. I should also incline to believe that this is truly the case;

but, though we may acknowledge the growth of land upon the coast of

Holland, we must deny that a stable country can be formed in the bed of

the sea by such means. For, however increasing may be the sand in the

German sea, and however great additions may be made of habitable country

to the coast of Holland, yet, as the islands of Great Britain and

Ireland are worn by attrition on the shores, and are wasted by being

washed away into the ocean, the causes for the accumulation of sand in

the German sea must cease in time, when, in this progress of things, the

sand banks, on which depends the existence of Holland, must diminish,

and at last be swept away, in leaving the solid coast of Germany to be

again buffeted by the waves, as is at present the coasts of Ireland,

France, and Spain.

This reasoning is, indeed, very far removed from that which is commonly

employed for the purpose of conducting human operations, or establishing

the political system of a nation; it is not, however, the less

interesting to man, in that it cannot direct him immediately in his

worldly affairs; and it is the only way of reasoning that can be

employed in order to enlighten man with a view of those operations which

are not to be limited in time, and which are to be concluded as in the

system of nature, a system which man contemplates with much pleasure,

and studies with much profit.

Thus we have shown, that, from the top of the mountain to the shore of

the sea, which are the two extremities of our land, every thing is in

a state of change; the rock and solid strath dissolving, breaking, and

decomposing, for the purpose of becoming soil; the soil travelling along

the surface of the earth, in its way to the shore; and the shore wearing

and wasting by the agitation of the sea, an agitation which is essential

to the purposes of a living world. Without those operations, which wear

and waste the coast, there would not be wind and rain; and, without

those operations which wear and waste the solid land, the surface of the

earth would become sterile. But showers of rain and fertile soil are

necessarily required in the system of this world; consequently, the

dissolution of the rocks, and solid strata of the earth, and the

gradual, flow, but sure destruction of the present land, are operations

necessary in the system of this world; so far from being evils, they are

wisely calculated, in the system of nature, for the general good.

CHAP. VIII.

_The present Form of the Surface of the Earth

explained, with a View of the Operation of

Time upon our Land_.

It is not to _common_ observation that it belongs to see the effects of

time, and the operation of physical causes, in what is to be perceived

upon the surface of this earth; the shepherd thinks the mountain, on

which he feeds his flock, to have been always there, or since the

beginning of things; the inhabitant of the valley cultivates the soil as

his father had done, and thinks that this soil is coeval with the valley

or the mountain. But the man of scientific observation, who looks into

the chain of physical events connected with the present state of things,

sees great changes that have been made, and foresees a different state

that must follow in time, from the continued operation of that which

actually is in nature.

It is thus that enlightened natural history affords to philosophy

principles, from whence the most important conclusions may be drawn.

It is thus that a system may be perceived in that which, to common

observation, seems to be nothing but the disorderly accident of things;

a system in which wisdom and benevolence conduct the endless order of

a changing world. What a comfort to man, for whom that system was

contrived, as the only living being on this earth who can perceive it;

what a comfort, I say, to think that the Author of our existence

has given such evident marks of his good-will towards man, in this

progressive state of his understanding! What greater security can be

desired for the continuance of our intellectual existence,--an existence

which rises infinitely above that of the mere animal, conducted by

reason for the purposes of life alone.

The view of this interesting subject, which I had given in the first

part, published in the Transactions of the Edinburgh Royal Society, has

been seen by some men of science in a light which does not allow them,

it would appear, to admit of the general principle which I would thereby

endeavour to establish. Some contend that the rivers do not travel the

material of the decaying land;--Why?--because they have not seen all

those materials moved. Others alledge, that stones and rocks may be

formed upon the surface of the earth, instead of being there all in a

state of decay. These are matters of fact which it is in the power of

men who have proper observation to determine; it is my business

to generalise those facts and observations, and to bring them in

confirmation of a theory which is necessarily founded upon the decaying

nature and perishing state of all that appears to us above the surface

of the sea.

Nothing is more evident, than that the general effect of mineral

operations is to consolidate that which had been in an incoherent state

when formed at the bottom of the sea, and thus to produce those rocks

and indurated bodies which constitute the basis of our vegetable soil;

but, that indurating or consolidating operation is not the immediate

object of our observation; and, to see the evidence of that operation,

or the nature of that cause, requires a long chain of reasoning from the

most extensive physical principles. Our present subject of investigation

requires no such abstract distant _media_, by which the effect is to be

connected with its cause; the actual operation in general is the object

of our immediate observation; and here we have only to reason from

less to more, and not to homologate things which may, to men of narrow

principles, appear to be of different kinds. But even here we find

difficulty in persuading those who have taken unjust views of things;

for, those who will not deny the truth of every step in this chain of

reasoning, will deny the end to which it leads, merely because they

are not disposed to admit the progress of that order which appears in

nature.

In the last chapter, I have been using arguments to prove that M. de

Luc has reasoned erroneously, in concluding the future stability of a

continent; and I have been endeavouring to show that our continent

is necessarily wasted in procuring food to plants, or in serving the

various purposes of a system of living animals. We have now in view to

illustrate this theory of the degradation of the surface of the earth;

a theory necessarily leading to that system of the world in which a

provision is made for future continents; and a theory explaining various

natural appearances which otherwise are not to be understood. A door may

thus be opened for the investigation of natural history, particularly

that which traces back, from the present state of things, those

operations of nature which are more immediately connected with what we

take much pleasure to behold, viz. the surface of the earth stored with

such a variety of beautiful plants, and inhabited by such a diversity of

animals, all subservient to the use of man.

There are two ways in which we may look for the transactions of time

past, in the present state of things, upon the surface of this earth,

and read the operations of an ancient date in those which are daily

transacted under our eye. The one of these is to examine the soil, and

to trace the origin of that which we find loose upon the surface of the

earth, or only compacted by the soft and cohesive nature of some of its

materials. In thus studying the soil we shall learn the destruction of

the solid parts; and though, by this means, we cannot form an estimate

of the quantity of this destruction which had been made, we shall, upon

many occasions, see a certain _minimum_ of this quantity which may

perhaps astonish us.

The second method here proposed, is to examine the solid part of the

earth, in order to learn the quantity of matter which had been separated

from this mass. Here also we shall not be able to compute the quantity

of what had been destroyed; but we shall every where find a certain

_minimum_ of this quantity, which will give us an extensive view with

regard to the operation of the elements and seasons upon the surface of

this earth. We shall now examine more particularly those two ways of

judging with regard to the operations of time past, and the changes

which have been made upon the surface of our land, by those active

causes, which, being in the constitution of this earth, must continue to

operate with undiminished power, and tend to preserve the _whole_ amidst

the destruction of its particular parts.

The quality of the soil or travelled earth of the globe is various;

because the solid parts, from the destruction of which the soil is

formed, consist of very different substances, in the different portions

of each country. Thus, in one part of a country, the soil will be

calcareous, or containing much of that species of substance; in another,

again, it will be argillaceous; in another sandy, where the prevailing

substance is siliceous. These are the original soils; other substances

may be considered as adventitious to this soil, though natural to the

surface of the earth, which is covered with plants and animals. The

substance of those animal and vegetable bodies, mixed with the soil,

adds greater fertility to the earth, and gives a soil which is still

more compounded in its nature, but still composed of those materials now

enumerated.

We have been now supposing the solid parts below, or in the same field,

as furnishing materials of which the soil is formed; this soil then

partakes of the nature of those solid parts, whether more simple or

more compound. There is, however, another subject of variety, or still

greater composition in soils; this is the transportation of materials

from a distance; and this, in general, is performed by the ablution of

water, in following the declivity of the surface. But sand is sometimes

travelled by the wind, and proceeds along the surface of the earth,

without regard to the declivity, and changes the nature of soil in those

places which happen to be exposed to this accident.

There cannot be any extensive, great, or distant travelling of sand or

soil by means of the wind, except in those places which are sterile for

want of rain, and thus are destitute of rivers and of streams; for,

these running waters form every where a bar to this progressive movement

of the soil, even if the sterility or dryness should permit the blowing

of the sand. But the operation of streams and rivers, carrying soil and

stones along the surface of the earth, is constant, great, and general

over all the globe, so far as a superfluity of water, in the seasons of

rain, falls upon the earth.

From the amazing quantity of those far travelled materials, which in

many places are found upon the surface of the ground, we may with

certainty conclude, that there has been a great consumption of the

most hard and solid parts of the land; and therefore that there must

necessarily have been a still much greater destruction of the more soft

and tender substances, and the more light and subtile parts which,

during those operations of water, had been floated away into the sea.

This appears from the enormous quantities of stones and gravel which

have been transported at distances that seem incredible, and deposited

at heights above the present rivers, which renders the conveyance of

those bodies altogether inconceivable by any natural operation, or

impossible from the present shape of the surface. This therefore leads

us to conclude, that the surface of the earth must have been greatly

changed since the time of those deposits of certain foreign materials

of the soil. Examples of this kind have been already given. I shall now

give one from the Journal de Physique.

«Les bords du Rhône aux environs de Lyon, et sur la longueur de quarante

lieues, et de plus, des montagnes entières, dans le même pays, sont

formes de pierres dont on ne trouve les analogues que dans la Suisse. Ce

fait presqu'incompréhensible est accompagné de beaucoup de circonstances

qui méritent d'être détaillées dans un discours plus longue que

celui-ci. Il y a cependant une que je ne peux pas m'empêcher de

rapporter ici, comme une suite de ce que je viens de dire.

«Dans cette grand catastrophe, à laquelle j'attribue le transport de ces

matières alpines, il se fit de grandes échancrures dans le Jura; les

plus profondes que j'aie vues sont celles de Jougue de Sainte-Croix,

du val de Mousthier Travers, de Someboz au val de Saint-Inver, une

cinquième aux environs du village de Grange, trois lieues plus bas que

Bienne, et une sixième à quatre à cinq lieues plus bas que Soleure,

à l'endroit dit la cluse. Cette dernière est la plus profonde, et se

trouve de niveau avec les eaux de l'Aar. Beaucoup de ces matières

étrangères au Jura, ont passé par ces échancrures, et sans doute, par

bien d'autres et se sont répandues, dans plusieurs de ces vallées. J'en

ai vu un suite bien marquée qui a passé par Jougue, par Saint-Antoine,

part Mont Perreux, les Grangettes, les Granges Friards, Oye, et qui est

allée jusqu'aux plaines de Pontarlier. Cette suite est en ligne droite

vis-à vis l'échancrure de Jougue, et la direction de la vallée qui est

au bas de ce village. On en trouve quelques morceaux à Metabiefs,

mais je n'en ai point vu aux Longevilles, ni à Roche-Jean. Il y en a

au-dessus de Saint-Croix ou d'autres ont pu passer aussi pour aller

de même aux environs de Portarlier. Il y en a dans le val de

Mousthier-Travers jusqu'au dessus de village de Butte; elles ont même

passé les roches de Saint-Sulpice du côté des Verrières de Suisse, ou

l'on a été obligé d'en faire sauter de gros blocs avec de la poudre pour

dégager la grande route; il y en a dans les vallées de Tavannes, et de

Delemont; on en trouve bien plus loin, j'en ai vu près de Roulans, et je

ne douterois pas que les pierres meulières de Moissez et des environs

n'eussent la même origine.»

M. de Saussure, who has so well observed every thing that can be

perceived upon the surface of the earth, gives us the following remarks

which are general to mountainous countries. (Voyages dans les Alpes,

tome 2d § 717).

«Dans le haut des vallées entourées de hautes montagnes, on ne voit

point de cailloux roulées, qui soient étrangers à la vallée même dans

laquelle on les trouve; ceux que l'on y rencontre ne sont jamais que

les débris des montagnes voisines. Dans le plaines au contraire, et à

l'embouchure des vallées, qui aboutissent aux plaines et même assez haut

sur les pentes des montagnes qui bordent ces plaines, on trouve des

cailloux et des blocs que l'on diroit tombés du ciel, tant leur nature

diffère de toute ce que l'on voit dans les environs.»

Here are facts which can only be explained in supposing that the valleys

have been hollowed out of the solid mass, by the gradual operation of

the rivers. In that case stones, travelled from a far, will be found at

considerable heights, upon the sides of the valleys at their under end,

or where, as our author says, they terminate in plains.

We have a striking example of the operation of time and the influences

of the atmosphere, in wasting the surface of the rocks, and forming soil

upon the earth; this is the kaolin of the Chinese, or the true porcelain

earth, which is the produce of granite countries. The feldspar of the

granite rock exposed to the atmosphere is corroded very slowly indeed,

by the effects of air and moisture, and in having the soluble earth or

calcareous part of its composition dissolved; the surface of this stone,

thus, in a long course of time, becomes opaque in having the white

siliceous earth exposed to view, and thus appears like a calcined

substance. The snows and rain detaches from this surface of the rock the

white earth, which being deposited in the plain below, forms a stratum

of kaolin more or less pure, according to the circumstance of the place.

As this operation of the atmosphere upon the surface of granite is so

extremely slow as to be altogether unmeasurable to man; and as there are

in many places of the earth inexhaustible quantities of this kaolin,

notwithstanding a small portion only of the ablution of the rock had

been retained upon the surface and deposited by itself, it must appear

that much time had been required for amassing those beds of kaolin, and

that these operations, which in the age of a continent is nothing, or

only as a day, are, with regard to the experience of man, unmeasurable.

For approbation of this theory, it is not necessary to show, that

wherever there is granite found, there should be also kaolin observed;

but it is necessary that wherever kaolin is found, there should be also

granite or feldspar to explain its origin; and to this proof the theory

is most willingly submitted. The following are the places which have

come to my knowledge. First Loch Dune in the shire of Ayr; this lake

receives its water from the granite hills which are at its head.

Secondly, some small lakes which receive the washings of the granite

mountain, Crifle, in East Galloway. Thirdly, Cornwall, a county in which

I have not been, but which is sufficiently known as possessing kaolin

and granite.

Another example from a very distant country we have both from M.

Pallas, in the Oural mountains, and from M. Patrin, who has given a

mineralogical _notice_ of the Douari, _Journal de physique, Mars_ 1791.

Here we find the following observation.

«Parmi les chose intéressantes qu'offrent les rives de Chilea, on

remarque au dessous de la fonderie, des collines de petunt-fé blanc

comme la neige, parsemé de mica argentin de la plus grande ténuité.

Dans le voisinage de ce petunt-fé est une argile micacée, qui en est

peut-être une décomposition: on essaya en ma présence d'en faire de

la poterie qui avoit tous les caractères du meilleurs biscuit de

porcelaine.»

We have now been endeavouring to illustrate the wasting and washing

away of the solid land, in the examples of decayed rocks and water worn

stones, all of which are traceable, though at a great distance, to their

source; we are now to consider another species of substance, which is

still more particular as to the place of its production, or to its

original situation, this being only in the veins of the earth. Among all

the various productions of mineral veins, we have only now in view

some particular metallic substances which do not seem to waste and be

dissolved, as many of them are, in being long exposed to the influence

of air and rain. When, therefore, the solid parts of the land are wasted

in time, and carried away from the surface of the earth, the contents of

the veins, which are occasionally found in those decayed parts of the

land, are also carried away in the stream; but as the specific gravity

of those metallic contents is much greater than the other stony

materials moved in the stream, they sink to the bottom, and tend much

more to be deposited upon the land, than those stones which had moved

with them from their place. Hence it is, that deposits, rich in those

metallic substances, are formed in certain places of the soil; and these

are sought for, upon account of the value of their contents. Thus,

stream tin, which in the time of the Romans formed a subject of traffic,

is still found in the soil of Cornwall, even in great profusion, at this

day.

Nothing can tend more to illustrate this travelling of the wasted

surface of the solid land, than the contents of those mineral veins

suffering in the general destruction of things, but partly saved from

that total ablution by which so much of the solid parts had been made to

disappear; and nothing can, in a more beautiful manner, show this order

of things, than the method practised by the Cornish miners in quest of

the original country of that metal, by _shoding_, (as it is called)

upwards in running back the tract in which the stream tin had been

conveyed. This is done by trying parcels of the soil, in always mounting

to see from whence the mineral below had come.

Gold is thus found almost in every country but it is only in the most

sparing manner that it may thus be in general procured, by reason of the

few veins in which gold is found, and the small quantity of this metal

contained in those veins. America, however, affords an example of veins

rich in gold, and it is also there that quantities of stream gold is

found in the soil, bearing a due proportion to the number and riches of

the veins.

I shall give an example concerning the situation in which this stream

gold is found in Peru (Voyage au Pérou, par M. Bouguer, page 49.)

«Cette Cordelière occidentale contient beaucoup d'or de même que le pied

de l'orient, et celui d'une autres chaîne très-longue qui s'en détache

un peu au sud de Popayan, et qui après avoir passé par Santa Fé de

Bogota, et par Mérida, va se terminer vers Caracas sur la mer du nord;

outre que l'or en paillettes occupe toujours des postes assez bas à

l'égard du reste de la Cordelière, on ne peut aussi jamais le découvrir

qu'en enlevant presque toujours deux couches de différentes terres qui

le cachent. La première, qui est de la terre ordinaire, a trois ou

quatre pieds d'épaisseur et quelquefois dix ou douze. On trouve souvent

au dessous une couche moins épaisse qui tire sur le jaune, et plus bas

est une troisième qui a une couleur violette, qui a souvent trois ou

quatre pieds d'épaisseur, mais qui n'a aussi quelquefois qu'un pouce, et

c'est cette troisième dans laquelle l'or est mêlé. Au dessous la terre

change encore de couleur, elle devient noire comme à la surface du

sol, et elle ne contient aucun métal. D'ailleurs on ne creuse pas

indistinctement par tout. On se détermine à chercher en certains

endroits plutôt qu'en d'autres par la pente de terrain. On agit comme

si l'or avant que d'avoir été couvert par les deux couches supérieures,

avoit été charrié par des eaux courantes. On s'est assuré aussi que

les terres une fois _lavées_ ou dépouillée de leurs richesses n'en

produisent point d'autres; ce qui prouve que l'or y avoit été comme

déposé.»

Therefore, whether we consider the quantity or the quality of the

materials which are found composing the soil upon the surface of the

earth, we must be led to acknowledge an immense waste of the solid

parts, in procuring those relicts which indicate what had been

destroyed.

We have now to examine what is left of that solid part which had

furnished the materials of our soil; this is the part which supports the

vegetable or travelled earth, and this earth sustains the plants and

animals which live upon the globe. It is by this solid part that we are

to judge concerning the operations of time past; of those destructive

operations by which so great a portion of the earth had been wasted and

carried away, and is now sunk at the bottom of the sea.

Man first sees things upon the surface of the earth no otherwise than

the brute, who is made to act according to the mere impulse of his sense

and reason, without inquiring into what had been the former state of

things, or what will be the future. But man does not continue in that

state of ignorance or insensibility to truth; and there are few of those

who have the opportunity of enlightening their minds with intellectual

knowledge, that do not wish at some time or another to be informed of

what concerns the whole, and to look into the transactions of time past,

as well as to form some judgment with regard to future events.

It is only from the examination of the present state of things that

judgments may be formed, in just reasoning, concerning what had been

transacted in a former period of time; and it is only by seeing what had

been the regular course of things, that any knowledge can be formed of

what is afterwards to happen; but, having observed with accuracy

the matter of fact, and having thus reasoned as we ought, without

supposition or misinformation, the result will be no more precarious

than any other subject of human understanding. To those who thus

exercise their minds, the following remarks may furnish a subject for

some speculation. Now, though to human policy it imports not any thing,

perhaps, to know what alterations time had made upon the form and

quantity of this earth, divided into kingdoms, states, or empires,

or what may become of this continent long after every kingdom now

subsisting is forgotten, it much concerns the present happiness of man

to know himself, to see the wisdom of that system which we ascribe to

nature, and to understand the beauty and utility of those objects which

he sees.

There are two different operations belonging to the surface of this

globe which we are now to consider, and by which we shall be enabled

to form some computation of what had been in space and time, from that

which now appears. Moving water is the means employed in both those

operations; but, in the one case, it is the water of the sea; in

the other again, it is the water of the land. The effect of the one

operation is the wasting of the coast, and the diminution of that basis

on which our land and soil depends; of the other, again, it is the

degradation of our mountains, and the wasting of our soil. In the course

of this last operation, there is also occasionally land formed in the

sea, in addition to our coast.

With regard to the wearing of the coast by the agitation of the waves,

this is an operation of which some understanding is to be formed from

the surest of all records, from a careful examination of our shores

which are in this decaying state, and by observing what has been removed

from those portions which we find remaining. Few people have either the

skill or the opportunity of thus judging of the state of our earth from

that which actually appears; but there is no person, who studies this

science of geology, that may not satisfy himself with regard to the

truth of this theory, by looking into our maps and charts, and making

proper allowances for causes which cannot appear in the maps, but which

may be understood by a person of knowledge making observations on the

spot. In order to assist this study, the following observations may be

made.

It is a general observation among mariners, that a high coast and rocky

shore have deep water; whereas a low coast, and sandy shore, are as

naturally attended with shallow water. The explanation of this fact will

appear by considering, that a steep rocky coast is occasioned by the sea

having worn away the land; and, when that is the case, we are not to

expect sand should be accumulated upon that shore, so as to make the sea

shallow. Look round all the coasts of Great Britain and Ireland that are

exposed to the wide ocean, as likewise those of France and Norway, deep

water, and a worn coast, are universally to be acknowledged. If again

the coast is shallow, this is a proof that the land affords more

materials than the sea can carry away; consequently, instead of being

impaired, the coast may here increase and be protruded from the land.

Such is the case in many places along the coast of North America, where

several reasons concur in accumulating sand upon that coast; for, not

only is the shore plentifully provided with sand from the rivers of that

continent, but also the sand of the Mexican Gulf would appear to be

carried along this coast with the stream which flows here towards the

north, and which has thus contributed to form the banks of Newfoundland.

The second general observation is to be considered as respecting

the shape of coasts, in like manner as the first had in view their

elevations. Now, it is plain that the shape of the coast, in any part of

the land, must depend upon a combination of two different causes. The

first of these is the composition of the land or solid parts of the

coast; if this be uniform and regular, so will be the shape of the

coast; if it is irregular and mixed, consisting of parts of very

different degrees of hardness and resistance to the wasting operations,

the coast will then be, _cet. par._ irregular and indented. The second,

again, respects the wearing power. If this wearing power shall be

supposed to be equally applied to all the coast; and, if every part of

that coast were of an equal quality or resisting power, no explanation

could be given, from the present state of things, for the particular

shape of that coast, which ought then to be wasted in an equable manner

by the sea. But neither is the coast, of any extensive country at least,

composed of such uniform materials; nor is the application of the

wearing power to the coast an equal thing; and this will form the

subject of another observation. The third general observation,

therefore, regards the operations of the sea upon the coast, and the

effects which may be perceived in consequence of that cause, independent

of the qualities of the coast, or supposing them in general to be alike.

Here, according to the theory, we should expect to find deep water and

an indented coast upon a country, in proportion as that coast is exposed

to the violence of the sea, or is open directly to the ocean. We have

but to look along the west coast of Norway, the north-west of Scotland,

the west of Ireland, and the south-west of England and of France; and we

shall soon be convinced that the sea has made ravages upon those coasts

in proportion to its power, and has left them in a shape corresponding

to the composition of the land, in destroying the softer, and leaving

the harder parts[14].

[Footnote 14: M. de Lamblardie, _ingénieur des ponts et chaussées_, has

made a calculation, seemingly upon good grounds, with regard to the

wasting of a part of the coast of France, between the Seine and the

Somme. This coast is composed of _falaises_, (or chalk cliffs, like the

opposite coast of England), which are 200 feet high above the level of

the sea, composed of strata of marl, separated by beds of flint. This

coast is found to be wasted, at an average, at the rate of one foot _per

annum_. We may thus perhaps form some idea of the time since the coast

of France and that of England had been here united, or one continued

mass of those strata which are the same on both those coasts.]

With those hard and rugged coasts of Britain and Ireland, let us

contrast the east coasts; What a difference between these and the west

side! Upon the west side, there are no sand banks left upon the coast;

the mariner has nothing there to fear but rocks. It is otherwise on the

east; here we find a tamer coast, and, in many places, a sandy bottom.

On the west, nothing appears opposed to the storm of the ocean except

the hardest and most solid rock; on the east, we find coasts exposed

to the sea which could not have remained in a similar situation on the

west. Let us but compare the two opposite coasts of England, viz. the

promontory of Norfolk and Suffolk upon the one side, and Pembrokeshire

and Carnarvonshire on the other, both similarly exposed, the one to the

north east storm of the German sea, the other to the south west billows

of the Atlantic. What a striking difference! The coast in the bay of

Cardigan is a hard and strong coast compared with that of Norfolk and

Suffolk; the one is strong schistus, the other the most tender clay;

yet the soft coast stands protuberant to the sea, the harder coast is

hollowed out into a bay; the one has no protection but the sands with

which it is surrounded, the other had not remained till this day but

for the protection of the most solid rocks of Pembrokeshire and

Carnarvonshire, which oppose the fury of the waves.

The last general observation which I shall propose, has, for its

subject, a more enlarged view than those now taken of the coast, a view

indeed which is not so immediately the object of our observation, but

which is nevertheless to be made most evident, by means of the others

now considered. We have seen that the land exposed to the sea is

destroyed, and the coast wasted more or less, in proportion to the

wearing causes, and to the different resisting powers opposed to those

causes of decay; we are now to make our observations with regard to the

extent and quality of that which has been already destroyed, a subject

which can only be conjectured at from the scientific view which may be

taken of things, and from the careful examination of that which has been

left behind upon the different coasts.

Our land is wasted by the sea; and there is also a natural progress to

be observed which necessarily takes place on this occasion; for, the

coast is found variously indented, that is to say, more or less,

according as the land is exposed to this wasting and wearing operation

of the sea, and according as the wasted land is composed of parts

resisting with different degrees of power the destroying cause. The

land, thus being worn and wasted away, forms here and there peninsulas,

which are the more durable portions of that which had been destroyed

around; and these remaining portions are still connected with the main

land, of which they at present form a part.

But those promontories and peninsulas are gradually detached from the

main land, in thus forming islands, which are but little removed from

the land. An example of this we have in Anglesay, which is but one

degree removed from the state of being a promontory. These islands

again, in being subdivided, are converted into barren rocks, which point

out to us the course in which the lost or wasted land upon the coast had

formerly existed.

To be satisfied of this, let us but look upon the western coast of

Scotland; from the islands of St. Kilda to Galloway, on the one side,

and to Shetland on the other; in this tract, we have every testimony,

for the truth of the doctrine, that is consistent with the nature of the

subject. The progress of things is too slow to admit of any evidence

drawn immediately from observation; but every other proof is at hand;

every appearance corresponds with the theory; and of every step in the

progress, from a continent of high land to the point of a rock sunk

below the surface of the sea, abundant examples may be found. We do not

see the beginning and ending of any one island or piece of country,

because the operation is only accomplished in the course of time, and

the experience of man is only in the present moment. But man has science

and reason, in order to understand what has already been from what

appears; and we have but to open our eyes to see all the stages of the

operation although not in one individual object. Now, where the nature

of things will not admit of having all and every step of the progress

to be perceived in one object, an indefinite progression in the various

states of different objects, showing the series or gradation from a

continent to a rock, must form a proof in which no deficiency will be

found.

I have given for example the coast of Scotland; but all over the world

where there is a coast not covered with sand, or where it is exposed to

the violence of the sea, it is the same. Take the map of any country,

provided it be sufficiently particular, and you will see the breaking of

continents or islands, first, into promontories or peninsulas; secondly,

into islands which stand on the same solid basis with the continent;

and, lastly, into rocks which are related to the islands, in like manner

as those parasitical islands are related to the head lands and the

shore. Here is a general fact, from the simple inspection of which we

must conclude one of two things; either that those rocks and smaller

islands, which we have termed parasitical, are in a state of

progression, by which in time they will be joined to the main land, and

form one continent; or that they are in a state of degradation, by which

in time they will be made to disappear. There is no other supposition to

be made; and, of that alternative, there is no room to hesitate a moment

which to choose. This is not a matter of mere probability, it is the

subject of physical demonstration. Should we find an old manuscript in a

similar condition, we could not conclude with more certainty, that

the deficient or intervening places had been destroyed, than we here

conclude that the part which is now wanting, between the two remaining

portions of the same rock or strata, had once connected those two

portions, and had been destroyed by the operation of those causes which

are every day employed in still increasing the breach.

Though over all the world, where the shore is washed bare by the sea,

examples are to be found which require but to be seen to give compleat

conviction, it is not in every place that the eye of a naturalist has

been employed in taking this view of the coast; nor is it upon every

occasion that enlightened philosophers of this kind have given their

thoughts upon the subject. M. de Spallanzani has given us the following

observations with regard to the coast of Italy[15].

[Footnote 15: Observations sur la Physique, etc. Juliet 1786.]

«Autant l'intérieur du petit bourg de Porto-venere et les rochers qui

l'environnent sont a l'abri des tempêtes, autant les parties extérieures

sont exposées aux coups de mer les plus violens, lorsqu'elles sont

en proie au deux terribles vents d'Afrique et à celui du sud-est. Ce

dernier en particulier soulève les flots avec tant de violence et à

une telle hauteur contre les écueils qui servent de défense à ce petit

terrain, que la mer semble menacer de l'engloutir. J'ai été le témoin

d'un de ces orages, et quoique je fusse à l'abri de tout danger, je ne

pourroit vous representer l'horreur que me fit éprouver ce spectacle.

J'ai voulu prendre avec exactitude la hauteur moyenne de l'élevation des

flots dans les plus violens coups de vent; et quand je vous en parlerai

vous serez étonné de leur force et de l'étendue de leurs effets. Les

rochers qui sont à la partie méridionale de Porto-venere se rongent et

se détruisent peu-à-peu de même que les trois isles voisines _Tiro_, le

_petit Tiro_, et _Palmarin_. On le remarque surtout dans cette dernier:

les bords voisins de la terre ont une pente douce; ils sont couverts

d'arbres et de plantes, tandis que la partie opposée est déserte et

inaccessible couverte de précipices, de ruines et d'horreurs; les autres

parties du rivage sont renfermées par la rivière du ponent et par celle

du levant, de même que celles qui s'approchent des côtes de Provence. Il

me paroît que la mer a beaucoup gagné sur le terre dans ces parages;

et pour parler seulement de Palmarin, la plus grande, et la plus

remarquable des trois îsles que j'ai nommées, je crois être suffisamment

fondé pour conclure que la même pente facile et longue qu'on observe du

côte de la terre avoit aussi existé du côte de la mer; mais que cette

dernière avoit été détruite par les orages, qui se sont succédés pendant

le cours de siècles. La vue réfléchie de ces trois îsles me force à les

regarder comme ayant été autre fois réunies, et formant une îsle

seule par leur réunion, ou plutôt comme une presqu'île attenante à

Porto-Venere.»

We have a still more interesting observation made upon this same coast

of Italy, by a naturalist to whom the world is much indebted for his

excellent remarks upon what he has, by his great industry, brought to

light. I mean the Chevalier de Dolomieu; where-ever he goes, natural

history reaps the benefit of the most enlightened observations. We are

now to avail ourselves of his Mémoire sur les Iles Ponces.

The pumice islands form part of a chain of land that may be traced

forming a circular line from the cape Missene to the mount Circello at

the other side of the Gulf of Gaeta. The islands of Ischia and Procida,

which form part of this chain of land, might, from the inspection of the

map, be allowed as having once formed a continuation of the land from

the continent of Italy, even without the testimony of natural history,

that traces this connection from the materials of those masses which now

are separated.

The pumice islands form the middle part of that chain, and are the

farthest removed from that continent of which it is probable they once

formed a part. They are connected with the promontory of Missene on the

one hand, as being of the same or similar volcanic origin, and on the

other with mount Circello, by a curious circumstance in the island

Zanone, which, but a little more of the devouring operation of the sea,

would have concealed from our observation.

The island of Ventotiene, which is the nearest of them to Ischia, would

appear to be the ancient island of Pendataria, in which Julia was

confined. The marks of degradation in this island, I would wish to give

in the Chevalier's own words, (p. 52.)

«Cette îsle continue à être devorée par la mer, elle l'attaque dans

toutes les parties de son contour, où elle trouve peu de resistance, et

elle ne cesse de creuser, principalement, tous les escarpemens du nord.

Il paroît, par les vestiges des antiquités qui sont sur la pointe dite

_di Nevola_, que sous l'Empire de César cette îsle avoit encore une

étendue plus considérable. Il s'y fait journellement des éboulemens; on

peut prévoir qu'elle diminuera progressivement, qu'elle se divisera, et

que dans les temps à venir elle sera réduite aux rochers de laves qui la

supportent, et qui seuls peuvent résister, pendant une longue suite de

siècles, à tous les efforts des flots; ce ne sera sûrement pas la seule

terre que le temps et la mer auront dévorée, et que les vicissitudes de

la nature ont fait disparoître avant que l'histoire en ait pu constater

l'existence.»

As the island of Ventotiene connects this group of the pumice islands

with the continent of Missene, that of Zanone, on the other side,

connects them with the continent at mount Circello. Here is a fact of

which our author now gives proper evidence.

It would appear that Mount Circello is composed of an alpine limestone.

But in the north end of the island of Zanone, the Chevalier de Dolomieu

finds a small part of a similar limestone in vertical strata,

closely united with the volcanic materials of the islands now under

consideration. It is impossible that this portion of calcareous rock

could be formed in its present situation, and we have but to examine

nature in order to be convinced that this limestone part had been once

continued from Mount Circello. Here again I beg leave to give this

author's own words, (page 141.)

«Cette réunion de deux matières aussi différentes par leur origine que

le font celles qui forment l'Isle Zanone, est une circonstance des plus

singuliers. La pierre calcaire ne contient point de coquillages; sa

densité sa dureté; son odeur fétide annonce une origine ancienne; elle

n'est point formée par un dépôt de nouvelle date; elle diffère des

pierres calcaires-coquillière qui recouvrent les volcans du Padouan et

du Vicentin, et de celles qui se sont mêlés avec les produits du feu

dans les volcans éteintes de la Sicile: les laves ici reposent sur elle:

elle paroît donc antérieure à l'époque des irruptions qui ont élevé

les îsles ponces. Par sa nature elle est semblable aux pierres du Mont

Circé, et à celles de l'intérieure de l'Apennin; il semble que cette

portion de montagne calcaire, abstraction faite des matières volcaniques

qui lui sont réunies, a appartenu à quelqu'unes des montagnes qui

dépendent de la chaine qui traverse l'Italie; car il n'est pas possible

que ni elle ni le Mont Circé ayent été formés seules et isolés ainsi

que nous les voyons. Mais quand ont-ils été détachées? étoient-ils déjà

isolés lorsque les feux ont commencé la formation des îsles ponces? ou

seroit-ce la même révolution qui les auroit séparés du continent, et qui

a opéré le désordre que nous voyons dans ces îsles volcanique? On ne

peut former sur toutes ces questions que des conjectures bien vagues.»

Our present inquiry is only with regard to the operation of those causes

which we now perceive to be acting upon the coasts of the land; which

must be considered as having been operating for a long time back, and

which must be considered as continuing to operate. One example more

I wish to give, not only as it is much to the purpose, and properly

described, but because it contains the natural history of a coast well

known from the circumstance of the Giant's Causeway which it contains;

a coast composed of stratified chalk indurated and consolidated to a

species of marble or lime-stone, and of great masses of basaltes or

columnar whin-stone. Now, though our present object is not the formation

of land, yet, knowing the mineral constitution of this land, the coast

of which we are considering as having been worn by the action of the

sea, the view here to be given, of the white marble and basaltic cliffs,

is satisfactory in the highest degree. It is from Letters concerning

the Northern Coast of the County of Antrim, by the Reverend William

Hamilton, A. M.

«The chalky cliffs of the island of Raghery, crowned by a venerable

covering of brown rock, form a very beautiful and picturesque appearance

as one sails towards them; and, if the turbulence of the sea does not

restrain the eyes and fancy from expatiating around, such a striking

similitude appears between this and the opposite coast, as readily

suggests an idea that the island might once have formed a part of the

adjoining country, from whence it has been disunited by some violent

shock of nature.

«You, to whom demonstration is familiar, will wonder to see two shores,

seven or eight miles asunder, so expeditiously connected by such a

slender and fanciful middle term as apparent similitude; and yet the

likeness is so strong, and attended with such peculiar circumstances,

that I do not entirely despair of prevailing even on you to acknowledge

my opinion as a probable one.

«It does not appear unreasonable to conclude, that, if two pieces of

land, separated from each other by a chasm, be composed of the same kind

of materials, similarly arranged, at equal elevations, these different

lands might have been originally connected, and the chasm be only

accidental. For, let us conceive the materials to be deposited by any of

the elements of fire, air, earth, or water, or by any cause whatever,

and it is not likely that this cause (otherwise general) should in all

its operations regularly stop short at the chasm.

«The materials of which the island of Raghery is composed are accurately

the same as those of the opposite shore; and the arrangement answers so

closely, as almost to demonstrate, at first view, their former union.

But to explain this more clearly, it will be necessary to give you a

general sketch of this whole line of coast.

«The northern coast of Antrim seems to have been originally a compact

body of lime-stone rock, considerably higher than the present level

of the sea; over which, at some later period, extensive bodies of

vitrifiable stone have been superinduced in a state of softness. The

original calcareous stratum appears to be much deranged and interrupted

by those incumbent masses. In some places it is depressed greatly below

its ancient level; shortly after it is borne down to the water's edge,

and can be traced under its surface. By and by it dips entirely, and

seems irretrievably lost under the superior mass. In a short space,

however, it begins to emerge, and, after a similar variation, recovers

its original height.

«In this manner, and with such repeated vicissitudes of elevation and

depression, it pursues a course of forty miles along the coast from

Lough Foyle to Lough Larne.

«It naturally becomes an object of curiosity to inquire what the

substance is from which the lime-stone seems thus to have shrunk,

burying itself (as it were in terror) under the covering of the ocean:

And, on examination, it appears to be the columnar basaltes, under which

the lime-stone stratum is never found; nor indeed does it ever approach

near to it without evident signs of derangement.

«Thus, for example, the chalky cliffs may be discovered a little

eastward from Portrush; after a short course, they are suddenly

depressed to the water's edge, under Dunluce Castle, and, soon after,

lost entirely in passing near the basalt-hill of Dunluce, whose craigs,

near the sea, are all columnar. At the river Bush the lime-stone

recovers, and skims a moment above the level of the sea, but immediately

vanishes in approaching towards the great basalt promontory of Bengore,

under which it is completely lost for the space of more than three

miles.

«Eastward from thence, beyond Dunsaverock Castle, it again emerges, and,

rising to a considerable height, forms a beautiful barrier to White

Park Bay and the Ballintoy shore. After this it suffers a temporary

depression near the basalt hill of Knocksoghy, and then ranges along the

coast as far as Ballycastle Bay.

«Fairhead, standing with magnificence on its massy columns of basaltes,

again exterminates it; and once again it rises to the eastward, and

pursues its devious course, forming, on the Glenarm shores, a line of

coast the most fantastically beautiful that can be imagined.

«If this, tedious expedition have not entirely worn out your patience,

let us now take a view of the coast of Ragery itself, from the lofty

summit of Fairhead, which overlook it. Westward we see its white cliff

rising abruptly from the ocean, corresponding accurately in materials

and elevation with those of the opposite shore, and like them, crowned

with a venerable load of the same vitrifiable rock. Eastward, we behold

it dip to the level of the sea, and soon give place to many beautiful

arrangements of basalt pillars which form the eastern end of the island,

and lie opposite to the basaltes of Fairhead, affording in every part a

reasonable presumption that the two coasts were formerly connected,

and that each was created and deranged by the same causes extensively

operating over both.

«But it is not in these larger features alone that the similitude may be

traced; the more minute and accidental circumstances serve equally well

to ascertain it.

«Thus, an heterogeneous mass of freestone, coals, iron-ore, etc. which

forms the east side of Ballycastle Bay, and appears quite different from

the common fossils of the country, may be traced also directly opposite,

running under Rathlin, with circumstances which almost demonstrably

ascertain it to be the same vein.

«What I would infer from hence is, that this whole coast has undergone

considerable changes; that those abrupt promontories, which now run

wildly into the ocean, in proud defiance of its boisterous waves, have

been rendered broken and irregular by some violent convulsion of nature;

and that the island of Ragery, standing as it were in the midst between

this and the Scottish coast, may be the surviving fragment of a large

tract of country which, at some period of time, has been buried in the

deep.»

Besides this argument of the gradation from a continent of land to

a bare rock, we have another from the consideration of those rocks

themselves, so far as these could not be formed by nature in their

present state, but must have been portions of a greater mass. How, for

example, could a perpendicular mountain, such as St. Kilda, have been

produced in the ocean? Of whatever materials we shall suppose it formed,

we never shall find means for the production of such a mass in its

present insulated state. Let us take examples of this kind near our

coast, and of known rocks. Staffa and Ailsa, on the west coast, and the

Bass, upon the east, are mountains of either whin-stone or granite,

similar to many such mountains within the land; and they are

perpendicular around, except perhaps on one part. It is demonstrable

that such basaltic rock as contains zeolite and calcareous spar, as most

of our whin-stones do, could not have been the eruption of a volcano,

consequently those rocks must have been masses protruded in a fluid

state, under an immense cover of earth at the time of their production;

and they could not have risen immediately out of the sea, with all their

various minerals, their veins and cutters, their faces and their angles.

In like manner, the east coast of Caithness is a perpendicular cliff

of sand-stone, lying in a horizontal position, and thus forming a flat

country above the shore. But along this coast there are small islands,

pillars, and peninsulas, of the same strata, corresponding perfectly

with that which forms the greater mass. Now, shall we suppose those

strata of sand-stone to have been formed in their place, and to have

reached no farther eastward into the sea?--It is unsupposable. Or, shall

we conceive that the sea, which has made such depredations in land

composed of much more solid materials, had spared this, and had

not wasted much more than that now pointed out by the ruins which

remain?--Impossible; we must suppose that there had once existed much

land where nothing now is found but sea. But, if we are to suppose much

to have been wasted, where shall we stop in this process of restoring

continents? That is the question now to be discussed.

With this view, let us now turn our attention to the north-west coast of

Europe, in consulting the general as well as the most particular maps.

Upon the one extremity of Britain, we find Cornwall separating it as it

were from the main land; and, from this promontory, the Scilly Isles

pointing out what had been destroyed in that direction, which is here to

be considered as the line of greatest resistance. But what a quantity

of the soft materials, or less resisting parts on either side, has been

destroyed! Upon the other extremity of Britain, we find the country

of Scotland, forming itself into promontories and islands, and those

islands and rocks pointing out to us what had been the former extent

of our continent and land around. But, in following this connection of

things, we cannot refuse to acknowledge that Ireland had formerly been

in one mass of land with Britain, in like manner as the Orkneys had been

with Scotland[16].

[Footnote 16: I have the most satisfactory evidence of this fact, in

finding the schistus of Galloway and of England in the opposite coast of

Ireland, corresponding to its direction in stretching from the coasts of

Britain.]