Chapter II: Front Matter (2)

The idea accords well with the fact that large numbers of extinct or dead volcanoes are scattered through many parts of the earth. If the above explanation be the right one, doubtless the fire-seas in the crust extended once upon a time beneath such volcanoes, but have since died out or smouldered low in those parts.

A somewhat curious calculation has been made, to illustrate the different modes of working of these two mighty powers--Fire and Water.

The amount of land swept away each year in mud, and borne to the ocean by the River Ganges, was roughly reckoned, and also the amount of land believed to have been upheaved several feet in the great Chilian earthquake.

It was found that the river, steadily working month by month, would require some four hundred years to carry to the sea the same weight of material, which in one tremendous effort was upheaved by the fiery underground forces.

Yet we must not carry this distinction too far. Fire does not always work suddenly, or water slowly; witness the slow rising and sinking of land in parts of the earth, continuing through centuries; and witness also the effects of great floods and storms.

The crust of the earth is made of rock. But what is rock made of?

Certain leading divisions of rocks have been already considered:

The Water-made Rocks;

The Fire-made Rocks, both Plutonic and Volcanic;

The Water-and-Fire-made Rocks.

The first of these--Water-made Rocks--may be subdivided into three classes. These are,--

I. _Flint Rocks_; II. _Clay Rocks_; III. _Lime Rocks_.

This is not a book in which it would be wise to go closely into the mineral nature of rocks. Two or three leading thoughts may, however, be given.

Does it not seem strange that the hard and solid rocks should be in great measure formed of the same substances which form the thin invisible air floating around us?

Yet so it is. There is a certain gas called Oxygen Gas. Without that gas you could not live many minutes. Banish it from the room in which you are sitting, and in a few minutes you will die.

This gas makes up nearly one-quarter by weight of the atmosphere round the whole earth.

The same gas plays an important part in the ocean; for more than three-quarters of water is _oxygen_.

It plays also an important part in rocks; for about half the material of the entire earth's crust is oxygen.

Another chief material in rocks is _silicon_. This makes up one-quarter of the crust, leaving only one-quarter to be accounted for. Silicon mixed with oxygen makes silica or quartz. There are few rocks which have not a large amount of quartz in them. Common flint, sandstones, and the sand of our shores, are made of quartz, and therefore belong to the first class of Silicious or Flint Rocks. Granites and lavas are about one-half quartz. The beautiful stones, amethyst, agate, chalcedony, and jasper, are all different kinds of quartz.

Another chief material in rocks is a white metal called _aluminium_. United to oxygen it becomes alumina, the chief substance in clay. Rocks of this kind--such as clays, and also the lovely blue gem, sapphire--are called Argillaceous Rocks, from the Latin word for clay, and belong to the second class. Such rocks keep fossils well.

Another is _calcium_. United to oxygen and carbonic acid, it makes carbonate of lime, the chief substance in limestone; so all limestones belong to the third class of Calcareous or Lime Rocks.

Other important materials may be mentioned, such as _magnesium, potassium, sodium, iron, carbon, sulphur, hydrogen, chlorine, nitrogen_. These, with many more, not so common, make up the remaining quarter of the earth-crust.

Carbon plays as important a part in animal and vegetable life as silicon in rocks. Carbon is most commonly seen in three distinct forms--as charcoal, as black-lead, and as the pure brilliant diamond. Carbon united, in a particular proportion, to oxygen, forms carbonic acid; and carbonic acid united, in a particular proportion, to lime, forms limestone.

_Hydrogen_ united to oxygen forms water. Each of these two gases is invisible alone, but when they meet and mingle they form a liquid.

_Nitrogen_ united to oxygen and to a small quantity of carbonic acid gas forms our atmosphere.

Rocks of pure flint, pure clay, or pure lime, are rarely or never met with. Most rocks are made up of several different substances melted together.

* * * * *

In the fire-built rocks no remains of animals are found, though in water-built rocks they abound. Water-built rocks are sometimes divided into two classes--those which only contain occasional animal remains, and those which are more or less built up of the skeletons of animals.

There are some exceedingly tiny creatures inhabiting the ocean, called Rhizopods. They live in minute shells, the largest of which may be almost the size of a grain of wheat, but by far the greater number are invisible as shells without a microscope, and merely show as fine dust. The rhizopods are of different shapes, sometimes round, sometimes spiral, sometimes having only one cell, sometimes having several cells. In the latter case a separate animal lives in each cell. The animal is of the very simplest as well as the smallest kind. He has not even a mouth or a stomach but can take in food at any part of his body.

These rhizopods live in the oceans in enormous numbers. Tens of millions are ever coming into existence, living out their tiny lives, dying, and sinking to the bottom.

There upon the ocean-floor gather their remains, a heaped-up multitude of minute skeletons or shells, layer forming over layer.

It was long suspected that the white chalk cliffs of England were built up in some such manner as this through past ages. And now at length proof has been found, in the shape of mud dredged up from the ocean-bottom--mud entirely composed of countless multitudes of these little shells, dropping there by myriads, and becoming slowly joined together in one mass.

Just so, it is believed, were the white chalk cliffs built--gradually prepared on the ocean-floor, and then slowly or suddenly upheaved, so as to become a part of the dry land.

Think what the enormous numbers must have been of tiny living creatures, out of whose shells the wide reaches of white chalk cliffs have been made. Chalk cliffs and chalk layers extend from Ireland, through England and France, as far as to the Crimea. In the south of Russia they are said to be six hundred feet thick. Yet one cubic inch of chalk is calculated to hold the remains of more than one million rhizopods. How many countless millions upon millions must have gone to the whole structure! How long must the work of building up have lasted!

These little shells do not always drop softly and evenly to the ocean-floor, to become quietly part of a mass of shells. Sometimes, where the ocean is shallow enough for the waves to have power below, or where land currents can reach, they are washed about, and thrown one against another, and ground into fine powder; and the fine powder becomes in time, through different causes, solid rock.

Limestone is made in another way also. In the warm waters of the South Pacific Ocean there are many islands, large and small, which have been formed in a wonderful manner by tiny living workers. The workers are soft jelly-like creatures, called polyps, who labor together in building up great walls and masses of coral.

They never carry on their work above the surface of the water, for in the air they would die. But the waves break the coral, and heap it up above high-water mark, and carry earth and seeds to drop there till at length a small low-lying island is formed.

The waves not only heap up broken coral, but they grind the coral into fine powder, and from this powder limestone rock is made, just as it is from the powdered shells of rhizopods. The material used by the polyps in building the coral is chiefly lime, which they have the power of gathering out of the water, and the fine coral-powder, sinking to the bottom, makes large quantities of hard limestone. Soft chalk is rarely, if ever, found near the coral islands.

Limestones are formed in the same manner from the grinding up of other sea-shells and fossils, various in kind; the powder becoming gradually united into solid rock.

There is yet another way in which limestone is made, quite different from all these. Sometimes streams of water have a large quantity of lime in them; and these as they flow will drop layers of lime which harden into rock. Or a lime-laden spring, making its way through the roof of an underground cavern, will leave all kinds of fantastic arrangements of limestone wherever its waters can trickle and drip. Such a cavern is called a "stalactite cave."

* * * * *

So there are different kinds of fossil rock-making. There may be rocks made of other materials, with fossil simply buried in them. There may be rocks made entirely of fossils, which have gathered in masses as they sank to the sea-bottom, and have there become simply and lightly joined together. There may be rocks made of the ground-up powder of fossils, pressed into a solid substance or united by some other substance.

Rocks are also often formed of whole fossils, or stones, or shells, bound into one by some natural soft sticky cement, which has gathered round them and afterwards grown hard, like the cement which holds together the stones in a wall.

The tiny rhizopods (meaning root foot) which have so large a share in chalk and limestone making, are among the smallest and simplest known kinds of animal life.

There are also some very minute forms of vegetable life, which exist in equally vast numbers, called Diatoms. For a long while they were believed to be living animals, like the rhizopods. Scientific men are now, however, pretty well agreed that they really are only vegetables or plants.

The diatoms have each one a tiny shell or shield, not made of lime like the rhizopod-shells, but of flint. Some think that common flint may be formed of these tiny shells.

Again, there is a kind of rock called Mountain Meal, which is entirely made up of the remains of diatoms. Examined under the microscope, thousands of minute flint shields of various shapes are seen. This rock, or earth, is very abundant in many places, and is sometimes used as a polishing powder. In Bohemia there is a layer of it no less than fourteen feet thick. Yet so minute are the shells of which it is composed, that one square inch of rock is said to contain about four thousand millions of them. Each one of these millions is a separate distinct fossil....

* * * * *

_a._ Sandstone, _b._ Shales, _c._ Coal-seams, _d._ Bed containing Roots and Stumps _in situ_.]

If you examine carefully a piece of coal, you will find, more or less clearly, markings like those which are seen in a piece of wood. Sometimes they are very distinct indeed. Coal abounds in impressions of leaves, ferns, and stems, and fossil remains of plants and tree-trunks are found in numbers in coal-seams.

Coal is a vegetable substance. The wide coal-fields of Britain and other lands are the _fossil_ remains of vast forests.

Long ages ago, as it seems, broad and luxuriant forests flourished over the earth. In many parts generation after generation of trees lived and died and decayed, leaving no trace of their existence, beyond a little layer of black mould, soon to be carried away by wind and water. Coal could only be formed where there were bogs and quagmires.

But in bogs and quagmires, and in shallow lakes of low-lying lands, there were great gatherings of slowly-decaying vegetable remains, trees, plants, and ferns all mingling together. Then after a while the low lands would sink and the ocean pouring in would cover them with layers of protecting sand or mud; and sometimes the land would rise again, and fresh forests would spring into life, only to be in their turn overwhelmed anew, and covered by fresh sandy or earthy deposits.

These buried forests lay through the ages following, slowly hardening into the black and shining coal, so useful now to man.

The coal is found thus in thin or thick seams, with other rock-layers between, telling each its history of centuries long past. In one place no less than sixteen such beds of coal are found, one below another, each divided from the next above and the next underneath by beds of clay or sand or shale. The forests could not have grown in the sea, and the earth-layers could not have been formed on land, therefore many land-risings and sinkings must have taken place. Each bed probably tells the tale of a succession of forests....

* * * * *

Before going on to a sketch of the early ages of the Earth's history--ages stretching back long long before the time of Adam--it is needful to think yet for a little longer about the manner in which that history is written, and the way in which it has to be read.

For the record is one difficult to make out, and its style of expression is often dark and mysterious. There is scarcely any other volume in the great Book of Nature, which the student is so likely to misread as this one. It is very needful, therefore, to hold the conclusions of geologists with a light grasp, guarding each with a "perhaps" or a "may be." Many an imposing edifice has been built, in geology, upon a rickety foundation which has speedily given way.

In all ages of the world's history up to the present day, rock-making has taken place--fire-made rocks being fashioned underground, and water-made rocks being fashioned above ground though under water.

Also in all ages different kinds of rocks have been fashioned side by side--limestone in one part of the world, sandstone in another, chalk in another, clay in another, and so on. There have, it is true, been ages when one kind seems to have been the _chief_ kind--an age of limestone, or an age of chalk. But even then there were doubtless more rock-buildings going on, though not to so great an extent. On the other hand, there may have been ages during which no limestone was made, or no chalk, or no clay. As a general rule, however, the various sorts of rock-building have probably gone on together. This was not so well understood by early geologists as it is now.

The difficulty is often great of disentangling the different strata, and saying which was earlier and which later formed.

Still, by close and careful study of the rocks which compose the earth's crust, a certain kind of order is found to exist, more or less followed out in all parts of the world. _When_ each layer was formed in England or in America, the geologist cannot possibly say. He can, however, assert, in either place, that a certain mass of rock was formed before a certain other mass in that same place, even though the two may seem to lie side by side; for he knows that they were so placed only by upheaval, and that once upon a time the one lay beneath the other.

The geologist can go further. He can often declare that a certain mass of rock in America and a certain mass of rock in England, quite different in kind, were probably built up at about the same time. How long ago that time was he would be rash to attempt to say; but that the two belong to the same age he has good reason for supposing.

We find rocks piled upon rocks in a certain order, so that we may generally be pretty confident that the lower rocks were first made, and the upper rocks the latest built. Further than this, we find in all the said layers of water-built rocks signs of past life.

As already stated, much of this life was ocean-life, though not all.

Below the sea, as the rock-layers were being formed, bit by bit, of earth dropping from the ocean to the ocean's floor, sea-creatures lived out their lives and died by thousands, to sink to that same floor. Millions passed away, dissolving and leaving no trace behind; but thousands were preserved--shells often, animals sometimes.

Nor was this all. For now and again some part of the sea-bottom was upheaved, slowly or quickly, till it became dry land. On this dry land animals lived again, and thousands of them, too, died, and their bones crumbled into dust. But here and there one was caught in bog or frost, and his remains were preserved till, through lapse of ages, they turned to stone.

Yet again that land would sink, and over it fresh layers were formed by the ocean-waters, with fresh remains of sea-animals buried in with the layers of sand or lime; and once more the sea-bottom would rise, perhaps then to continue as dry land, until the day when man should discover and handle these hidden remains.

Now note a remarkable fact as to these fossils, scattered far and wide through the layers of stratified rock.

In the uppermost and latest built rocks the animals found are the same, in great measure, as those which now exist upon the earth.

Leaving the uppermost rocks, and examining those which lie a little way below, we find a difference. Some are still the same, and others, if not quite the same, are very much like what we have now; but here and there a creature of a different form appears.

Go deeper still, and the kinds of animals change further. Fewer and fewer resemble those which now range the earth; more and more belong to other species.

Descend through layer after layer till we come to rocks built in earliest ages and not one fossil shall we find precisely the same as one animal living now.

So not only are the rocks built in successive order, stratum after stratum belonging to age after age in the past, but fossil-remains also are found in successive order, kind after kind belonging to past age after age.

Although in the first instance the succession of fossils was understood by means of the succession of rock-layers, yet in the second place the arrangement of rock-layers is made more clear by the means of these very fossils.

A geologist, looking at the rocks in America, can say which there were first-formed, which second-formed, which third-formed. Also, looking at the rocks in England, he can say which there were first-formed, second-formed, third-formed. He would, however, find it very difficult, if not impossible, to say which among any of the American rocks was formed at about the same time as any particular one among the English rocks, were it not for the help afforded him by these fossils.

Just as the regular succession of rock-strata has been gradually learned, so the regular succession of different fossils is becoming more and more understood. It is now known that some kinds of fossils are always found in the oldest rocks, and in them only; that some kinds are always found in the newest rocks, and in them only; that some fossils are rarely or never found lower than certain layers; that some fossils are rarely or never found higher than certain other layers.

So this fossil arrangement is growing into quite a history of the past. And a geologist, looking at certain rocks, pushed up from underground, in England and in America, can say: "These are very different kinds of rocks, it is true, and it would be impossible to say how long the building up of the one might have taken place before or after the other. But I see that in both these rocks there are exactly the same kinds of fossil-remains, differing from those in the rocks above and below. I conclude therefore that the two rocks belong to about the same great age in the world's past history, when the same animals were living upon the earth."

Observing and reasoning thus, geologists have drawn up a general plan or order of strata; and the whole of the vast masses of water-built rocks throughout the world have been arranged in a regular succession of classes, rising step by step from earliest ages up to the present time.

AMERICA THE OLD WORLD

(FROM GEOLOGICAL SKETCHES.)

BY L. AGASSIZ.

First-born among the Continents, though so much later in culture and civilization than some of more recent birth, America, so far as her physical history is concerned, has been falsely denominated the _New World_. Hers was the first dry land lifted out of the waters, hers the first shore washed by the ocean that enveloped all the earth beside; and while Europe was represented only by islands rising here and there above the sea, America already stretched an unbroken line of land from Nova Scotia to the Far West.

In the present state of our knowledge, our conclusions respecting the beginning of the earth's history, the way in which it took form and shape as a distinct, separate planet, must, of course, be very vague and hypothetical. Yet the progress of science is so rapidly reconstructing the past that we may hope to solve even this problem; and to one who looks upon man's appearance upon the earth as the crowning work in a succession of creative acts, all of which have had relation to his coming in the end, it will not seem strange that he should at last be allowed to understand a history which was but the introduction to his own existence. It is my belief that not only the future, but the past also, is the inheritance of man, and that we shall yet conquer our lost birthright.

Even now our knowledge carries us far enough to warrant the assertion that there was a time when our earth was in a state of igneous fusion, when no ocean bathed it and no atmosphere surrounded it, when no wind blew over it and no rain fell upon it, but an intense heat held all its materials in solution. In those days the rocks which are now the very bones and sinews of our mother Earth--her granites, her porphyries, her basalts, her syenites--were melted into a liquid mass. As I am writing for the unscientific reader, who may not be familiar with the facts through which these inferences have been reached, I will answer here a question which, were we talking together, he might naturally ask in a somewhat sceptical tone. How do you know that this state of things ever existed, and, supposing that the solid materials of which our earth consists were ever in a liquid condition, what right have you to infer that this condition was caused by the action of heat upon them? I answer, Because it is acting upon them still; because the earth we tread is but a thin crust floating on a liquid sea of molten materials; because the agencies that were at work then are at work now, and the present is the logical sequence of the past. From artesian wells, from mines, from geysers, from hot springs, a mass of facts has been collected, proving incontestably the heated condition of all substances at a certain depth below the earth's surface; and if we need more positive evidence, we have it in the fiery eruptions that even now bear fearful testimony to the molten ocean seething within the globe and forcing its way but from time to time. The modern progress of Geology has led us by successive and perfectly connected steps back to a time when what is now only an occasional and rare phenomenon was the normal condition of our earth; when the internal fires were enclosed by an envelope so thin that it opposed but little resistance to their frequent outbreak, and they constantly forced themselves through this crust, pouring out melted materials that subsequently cooled and consolidated on its surface. So constant were these eruptions, and so slight was the resistance they encountered, that some portions of the earlier rock-deposits are perforated with numerous chimneys, narrow tunnels as it were, bored by the liquid masses that poured out through them and greatly modified their first condition.

The question at once suggests itself, How was even this thin crust formed? what should cause any solid envelope, however slight and filmy when compared to the whole bulk of the globe, to form upon the surface of such a liquid mass? At this point of the investigation the geologist must appeal to the astronomer; for in this vague and nebulous border-land, where the very rocks lose their outlines and flow into each other, not yet specialized into definite forms and substances,--there the two sciences meet. Astronomy shows us our planet thrown off from the central mass of which it once formed a part, to move henceforth in an independent orbit of its own. That orbit, it tells us, passed through celestial spaces cold enough to chill this heated globe, and of course to consolidate it externally. We know, from the action of similar causes on a smaller scale and on comparatively insignificant objects immediately about us, what must have been the effect of this cooling process upon the heated mass of the globe. All substances when heated occupy more space than they do when cold. Water, which expands when freezing, is the only exception to this rule. The first effect of cooling the surface of our planet must have been to solidify it, and thus to form a film or crust over it. That crust would shrink as the cooling process went on; in consequence of the shrinking, wrinkles and folds would arise upon it, and here and there, where the tension was too great, cracks and fissures would be produced. In proportion as the surface cooled, the masses within would be affected by the change of temperature outside of them, and would consolidate internally also, the crust gradually thickening by this process.

But there was another element without the globe, equally powerful in building it up. Fire and water wrought together in this work, if not always harmoniously, at least with equal force and persistency. I have said that there was a time when no atmosphere surrounded the earth; but one of the first results of the cooling of its crust must have been the formation of an atmosphere, with all the phenomena connected with it,--the rising of vapors, their condensation into clouds, the falling of rains, the gathering of waters upon its surface. Water is a very active agent of destruction, but it works over again the materials it pulls down or wears away, and builds them up anew in other forms. As soon as an ocean washed over the consolidated crust of the globe, it would begin to abrade the surfaces upon which it moved, gradually loosening and detaching materials, to deposit them again as sand or mud or pebbles at its bottom in successive layers, one above another. Thus, in analyzing the crust of the globe, we find at once two kinds of rocks, the respective work of fire and water: the first poured out from the furnaces within, and cooling, as one may see any mass of metal cool that is poured out from a smelting-furnace to-day, in solid crystalline masses, without any division into separate layers or leaves; and the latter in successive beds, one over another, the heavier materials below, the lighter above, or sometimes in alternate layers, as special causes may have determined successive deposits of lighter or heavier materials at some given spot.

There were many well-fought battles between geologists before it was understood that these two elements had been equally active in building up the crust of the earth. The ground was hotly contested by the disciples of the two geological schools, one of which held that the solid envelope of the earth was exclusively due to the influence of fire, while the other insisted that it had been accumulated wholly under the agency of water. This difference of opinion grew up very naturally; for the great leaders of the two schools lived in different localities, and pursued their investigations over regions where the geological phenomena were of an entirely opposite character,--the one exhibiting the effect of volcanic eruptions, the other that of stratified deposits. It was the old story of the two knights on opposite sides of the shield, one swearing that it was made of gold, the other that it was made of silver; and almost killing each other before they discovered that it was made of both. So prone are men to hug their theories and shut their eyes to any antagonistic facts, that it is related of Werner, the great leader of the Aqueous school, that he was actually on his way to see a geological locality of especial interest, but, being told that it confirmed the views of his opponents, he turned round and went home again, refusing to see what might force him to change his opinions. If the rocks did not confirm his theory, so much the worse for the rocks,--he would none of them. At last it was found that the two great chemists, fire and water, had worked together in the vast laboratory of the globe, and since then scientific men have decided to work together also; and if they still have a passage at arms occasionally over some doubtful point, yet the results of their investigations are ever drawing them nearer to each other,--since men who study truth, when they reach their goal, must always meet at last on common ground.

The rocks formed under the influence of heat are called, in geological language, the Igneous, or, as some naturalists have named them, the Plutonic rocks, alluding to their fiery origin, while the others have been called Aqueous or Neptunic rocks, in reference to their origin under the agency of water. A simpler term, however, quite as distinctive, and more descriptive of their structure, is that of the stratified and massive or unstratified rocks. We shall see hereafter how the relative position of these two classes of rocks and their action upon each other enable us to determine the chronology of the earth, to compare the age of her mountains, and, if we have no standard by which to estimate the positive duration of her continents, to say at least which was the first-born among them, and how their characteristic features have been successfully worked out. I am aware that many of these inferences, drawn from what is called "the geological record," must seem to be the work of the imagination. In a certain sense this is true,--for imagination, chastened by correct observation, is our best guide in the study of Nature. We are too apt to associate the exercise of this faculty with works of fiction, while it is in fact the keenest detective of truth.

Besides the stratified and massive rocks, there is still a third set, produced by the contact of these two, and called, in consequence of the changes thus brought about, the Metamorphic rocks. The effect of heat upon clay is to bake it into slate; limestone under the influence of heat becomes quick-lime, or, if subjected afterwards to the action of water, it is changed to mortar; sand under the same agency is changed to a coarse kind of glass. Suppose, then, that a volcanic eruption takes place in a region of the earth's surface where successive layers of limestone, of clay, and of sandstone, have been previously deposited by the action of water. If such an eruption has force enough to break through these beds, the hot, melted masses will pour out through the rent, flow over its edges, and fill all the lesser cracks and fissures produced by such a disturbance. What will be the effect upon the stratified rocks? Wherever these liquid masses, melted by a heat more intense than can be produced by any artificial means, have flowed over them or cooled in immediate contact with them, the clays will be changed to slate, the limestone will have assumed a character more like marble, while the sandstone will be vitrified. This is exactly what has been found to be the case, wherever the stratified rocks have been penetrated by the melted masses from beneath. They have been themselves partially melted by the contact, and when they have cooled again, their stratification, though still perceptible, has been partly obliterated, and their substance changed. Such effects may often be traced in dikes, which are only the cracks in rocks filled by materials poured into them at some period of eruption when the melted masses within the earth were thrown out and flowed like water into any inequality or depression of the surface around. The walls enclosing such a dike are often found to be completely altered by contact with its burning contents, and to have assumed a character quite different from the rocks of which they make a part; while the mass itself which fills the fissure shows by the character of its crystallization that it has cooled more quickly on the outside, where it meets the walls, than at the centre.

The first two great classes of rocks, the unstratified and stratified rocks, represent different epochs in the world's physical history: the former mark its revolutions, while the latter chronicle its periods of rest. All mountains and mountain-chains have been upheaved by great convulsions of the globe, which rent asunder the surface of the earth, destroyed the animals and plants living upon it at the time, and were then succeeded by long intervals of repose, when all things returned to their accustomed order, ocean and river deposited fresh beds in uninterrupted succession, the accumulation of materials went on as before, a new set of animals and plants were introduced, and a time of building up and renewing followed the time of destruction. These periods of revolution are naturally more difficult to decipher than the periods of rest; for they have so torn and shattered the beds they uplifted, disturbing them from their natural relations to each other, that it is not easy to reconstruct the parts and give them coherence and completeness again. But within the last half-century this work has been accomplished in many parts of the world with an amazing degree of accuracy, considering the disconnected character of the phenomena to be studied; and I think I shall be able to convince my readers that the modern results of geological investigation are perfectly sound logical inferences from well-established facts. In this, as in so many other things, we are but "children of a larger growth." The world is the geologist's great puzzle-box; he stands before it like the child to whom the separate pieces of his puzzle remain a mystery till he detects their relation and sees where they fit, and then his fragments grow at once into a connected picture beneath his hand....

When geologists first turned their attention to the physical history of the earth, they saw at once certain great features which they took to be the skeleton and basis of the whole structure. They saw the great masses of granite forming the mountains and mountain-chains, with the stratified rocks resting against their slopes; and they assumed that granite was the first primary agent, and that all stratified rocks must be of a later formation. Although this involved a partial error, as we shall see hereafter when we trace the upheavals of granite even into comparatively modern periods, yet it held an important geological truth also; for, though granite formations are by no means limited to those early periods, they are nevertheless very characteristic of them, and are indeed the foundation-stones on which the physical history of the globe is built.

Starting from this landmark, the earlier geologists divided the world's history into three periods. As the historian recognizes Ancient History, the Middle Ages, and Modern History as distinct phases in the growth of the human race, so they distinguished between what they called the Primary period, when, as they believed, no life stirred on the surface of the earth; the Secondary or middle period, when animals and plants were introduced, and the land began to assume continental proportions; and the Tertiary period, or comparatively modern geological times, when the physical features of the earth as well as its inhabitants were approaching more nearly to the present condition of things. But as their investigations proceeded, they found that every one of these great ages of the world's history was divided into numerous lesser epochs, each of which had been characterized by a peculiar set of animals and plants, and had been closed by some great physical convulsion, disturbing and displacing the materials accumulated during such a period of rest.

The further study of these subordinate periods showed that what had been called Primary formations, namely, the volcanic or Plutonic rocks formerly believed to be confined to the first geological ages, belonged to all the periods, successive eruptions having taken place at all times, pouring up through the accumulated deposits, penetrating and injecting their cracks, fissures, and inequalities, as well as throwing out large masses on the surface. Up to our own day there has never been a period when such eruptions have not taken place, though they have been constantly diminishing in frequency and extent. In consequence of this discovery, that rocks of igneous character were by no means exclusively characteristic of the earliest times, they are now classified together upon very different grounds from those on which geologists first united them; though, as the name _Primary_ was long retained, we still find it applied to them, even in geological works of quite recent date. This defect of nomenclature is to be regretted, as likely to mislead the student, because it seems to refer to time; whereas it no longer signifies the age of the rocks, but simply their character. The name Plutonic or Massive rocks is, however, now almost universally substituted for that of Primary.

A wide field of investigation still remains to be explored by the chemist and the geologist together, in the mineralogical character of the Plutonic rocks, which differs greatly in the different periods. The earlier eruptions seem to have been chiefly granitic, though this must not be understood in too wide a sense, since there are granite formations even as late as the Tertiary period; those of the middle periods were mostly porphyries and basalts; while in the more recent ones, lavas predominate. We have as yet no clew to the laws by which this distribution of volcanic elements in the formation of the earth is regulated; but there is found to be a difference in the crystals of the Plutonic rocks belonging to different ages, which, when fully understood may enable us to determine the age of any Plutonic rock by its mode of crystallization; so that the mineralogist will as readily tell you by its crystals whether a bit of stone of igneous origin belongs to this or that period of the world's history, as the palæontologist will tell you by its fossils whether a piece of rock of aqueous origin belongs to the Silurian or Devonian or Carboniferous deposits.

Although subsequent investigations have multiplied so extensively not only the number of geological periods, but also the successive creations that have characterized them, yet the first general division into three great eras was nevertheless founded upon a broad and true generalization. In the first stratified rocks in which any organic remains are found, the highest animals are fishes, and the highest plants are cryptogams; in the middle periods reptiles come in, accompanied by fern and moss forests; in later times quadrupeds are introduced, with a dicotyledonous vegetation. So closely does the march of animal and vegetable life keep pace with the material progress of the world, that we may well consider these three divisions, included under the first general classification of its physical history, as the three Ages of Nature; the more important epochs which subdivide them may be compared to so many great dynasties, while the lesser periods are the separate reigns contained therein. Of such epochs there are ten, well known to geologists; of the lesser periods about sixty are already distinguished, while many more loom up from the dim regions of the past, just discerned by the eye of science, though their history is not yet unravelled.

Before proceeding further, I will enumerate the geological epochs in their succession, confining myself, however, to such as are perfectly well established, without alluding to those of which the limits are less definitely determined, and which are still subject to doubts and discussions among geologists. As I do not propose to make here any treatise of Geology, but simply to place before my readers some pictures of the old world, with the animals and plants that have inhabited it at various times, I shall avoid, as far as possible, all debatable ground, and confine myself to those parts of my subject which are best known, and can therefore be more clearly presented.

First, we have the Azoic period, _devoid of life_, as its name signifies,--namely, the earliest stratified deposits upon the heated film forming the first solid surface of the earth, in which no trace of living thing has ever been found. Next comes the Silurian period, when the crust of the earth had thickened and cooled sufficiently to render the existence of animals and plants upon it possible, and when the atmospheric conditions necessary to their maintenance were already established. Many of the names given to these periods are by no means significant of their character, but are merely the result of accident: as, for instance, that of Silurian, given by Sir Roderick Murchison to this set of beds, because he first studied them in that part of Wales occupied by the ancient tribe of the Silures. The next period, the Devonian, was for a similar reason named after the country of Devonshire in England, where it was first investigated. Upon this follows the Carboniferous period, with the immense deposits of coal from which it derives its name. Then comes the Permian period, named, again, from local circumstances, the first investigation of its deposits having taken place in the province of Permia in Russia. Next in succession we have the Triassic period, so called from the trio of rocks, the red sandstone, Muschel Kalk (shell-limestone), and Keuper (clay), most frequently combined in its formations; the Jurassic, so amply illustrated in the chain of the Jura, where geologists first found the clew to its history; and the Cretaceous period, to which the chalk cliffs of England and all the extensive chalk deposits belong. Upon these follow the so-called Tertiary formations, divided into three periods, all of which have received most characteristic names in this epoch of the world's history we see the first approach to a condition of things resembling that now prevailing, and Sir Charles Lyell has most fitly named its three divisions, the Eocene, Miocene, and Pliocene. The termination of the three words is made from the Greek word _Kainos_, recent; while _Eos_ signifies dawn, _Meion_ less, and _Pleion_ more. Thus Eocene indicates the dawn of recent species, Pliocene their increase, while Miocene, the intermediate term, means less recent. Above these deposits comes what has been called in science the present period,--_the modern times_ of the geologist,--that period to which man himself belongs, and since the beginning of which, though its duration be counted by hundreds of thousands of years, there has been no alteration in the general configuration of the earth, consequently no important modification of its climatic conditions, and no change in the animals and plants inhabiting it.

I have spoken of the first of these periods, the Azoic, as having been absolutely devoid of life, and I believe this statement to be strictly true; but I ought to add that there is a difference of opinion among geologists upon this point, many believing that the first surface of our globe may have been inhabited by living beings, but that all traces of their existence have been obliterated by the eruptions of melted materials, which not only altered the character of those earliest stratified rocks, but destroyed all the organic remains contained in them. It will be my object to show, not only that the absence of the climatic and atmospheric conditions essential to organic life, as we understand it, must have rendered the previous existence of any living beings impossible, but also that the completeness of the Animal Kingdom in those deposits where we first find organic remains, its intelligible and coherent connections with the successive creations of all geological times and with the animals now living, afford the strongest internal evidence that we have indeed found in the lower Silurian formations, immediately following the Azoic, the beginning of life upon earth. When a story seems to us complete and consistent from the beginning to the end, we shall not seek for a first chapter, even though the copy in which we have read it be so torn and defaced as to suggest the idea that some portion of it may have been lost. The unity of the work, as a whole, is an incontestable proof that we possess it in its original integrity. The validity of this argument will be recognized, perhaps, only by those naturalists to whom the Animal Kingdom has begun to appear as a connected whole. For those who do not see order in Nature it can have no value.

For a table containing the geological periods in their succession, I would refer to any modern text-book of Geology, or to an article in the _Atlantic Monthly_ for March, 1862, upon "Methods of Study in Natural History," where they are given in connection with the order of introduction of animals upon earth.

Were these sets of rocks found always in the regular sequence in which I have enumerated them, their relative age would be easily determined, for their superposition would tell the whole story: the lowest would, of course, be the oldest, and we might follow without difficulty the ascending series, till we reached the youngest and uppermost deposits. But their succession has been broken up by frequent and violent alterations in the configuration of the globe. Land and water have changed their level,--islands have been transformed to continents,--sea-bottoms have become dry land, and dry land has sunk to form sea-bottoms,--Alps and Himalayas, Pyrenees and Apennines, Alleghanies and Rocky Mountains, have had their stormy birthdays since many of these beds have been piled one above another, and there are but few spots on the earth's surface where any number of them may be found in their original order and natural position. When we remember that Europe, which lies before us on the map as a continent, was once an archipelago of islands,--that, where the Pyrenees raise their rocky barrier between France and Spain, the waters of the Mediterranean and Atlantic met,--that, where the British Channel flows, dry land united England and France, and Nature in those days made one country of the lands parted since by enmities deeper than the waters that run between,--when we remember, in short, all the fearful convulsions that have torn asunder the surface of the earth, as if her rocky record had indeed been written on paper, we shall find a new evidence of the intellectual unity which holds together the whole physical history of the globe in the fact that through all the storms of time the investigator is able to trace one unbroken thread of thought from the beginning to the present hour.

The tree is known by its fruits,--and the fruits of chance are incoherence, incompleteness, unsteadiness, the stammering utterance of blind, unreasoning force. A coherence that binds all the geological ages in one chain, a stability of purpose that completes in the beings born to-day an intention expressed in the first creatures that swam in the Silurian ocean or crept upon its shores, a steadfastness of thought, practically recognized by man, if not acknowledged by him, whenever he traces the intelligent connection between the facts of Nature and combines them into what he is pleased to call his system of Geology, or Zoölogy, or Botany,--these things are not the fruits of chance or of an unreasoning force, but the legitimate results of intellectual power. There is a singular lack of logic, as it seems to me, in the views of the materialistic naturalists. While they consider classification, or, in other words, their expression of the relations between animals or between physical facts of any kind, as the work of their intelligence, they believe the relations themselves to be the work of physical causes. The more direct inference surely is, that, if it requires an intelligent mind to recognize them, it must have required an intelligent mind to establish them. These relations existed before man was created; they have existed ever since the beginning of time; hence, what we call the classification of facts is not the work of his mind in any direct original sense, but the recognition of an intelligent action prior to his own existence.

There is, perhaps, no part of the world, certainly none familiar to science, where the early geological periods can be studied with so much ease and precision as in the United States. Along their northern borders, between Canada and the United States, there runs the low line of hills known as the Laurentian Hills. Insignificant in height, nowhere rising more than fifteen hundred or two thousand feet above the level of the sea, these are nevertheless the first mountains that broke the uniform level of the earth's surface and lifted themselves above the waters. Their low stature, as compared with that of other more lofty mountain-ranges, is in accordance with an invariable rule, by which the relative age of mountains may be estimated. The oldest mountains are the lowest, while the younger and more recent ones tower above their elders, and are usually more torn and dislocated also. This is easily understood, when we remember that all mountains and mountain-chains are the result of upheavals, and that the violence of the outbreak must have been in proportion to the strength of the resistance. When the crust of the earth was so thin that the heated masses within easily broke through it, they were not thrown to so great a height, and formed comparatively low elevations, such as the Canadian hills or the mountains of Bretagne and Wales. But in later times, when young, vigorous giants, such as the Alps, the Himalayas, or, later still, the Rocky Mountains, forced their way out from their fiery prison-house, the crust of the earth was much thicker, and fearful indeed must have been the convulsions which attended their exit.

The Laurentian Hills form, then, a granite range, stretching from Eastern Canada to the Upper Mississippi, and immediately along its base are gathered the Azoic deposits, the first stratified beds, in which the absence of life need not surprise us, since they were formed beneath a heated ocean. As well might we expect to find the remains of fish or shells or crabs at the bottom of geysers or of boiling springs, as on those early shores bathed by an ocean of which the heat must have been so intense. Although, from the condition in which we find it, this first granite range has evidently never been disturbed by any violent convulsion since its first upheaval, yet there has been a gradual rising of that part of the continent; for the Azoic beds do not lie horizontally along the base of the Laurentian Hills in the position in which they must originally have been deposited, but are lifted and rest against their slopes. They have been more or less dislocated in this process, and are greatly metamorphized by the intense heat to which they must have been exposed. Indeed, all the oldest stratified rocks have been baked by the prolonged action of heat.