Still more remarkable for peculiarities of structure was the tribe of saurians, which were once so numerous in the northern parts of Europe and America. The ichthyosaurus, a carnivorous marine reptile, sometimes thirty feet long, had the snout of a porpoise, the teeth of a crocodile, the head of a lizard, the vertebræ of a fish, the sternum of an ornithorhynchus, and the paddles of a whale. Those paddles, corresponding to the fins of a fish, or the web feet of water birds, were composed, each of them, of more than one hundred bones. In short, we find in this animal a combination of mechanical contrivances, which are now found among three distinct classes of the animal kingdom. Its eye, also, having an orbital cavity, in one species, of fourteen inches in its longest diameter, was proportionally larger than that of any living animal.
The plesiosaurus had the general structure of the ichthyosaurus; but its neck was nearly as long as its whole body—longer, in proportion to its size, than even that of the swan.
The iguanodon was an herbivorous terrestrial reptile that formerly inhabited England. It approaches nearest in structure to the iguana, a reptile four or five feet long, inhabiting the marine parts of this continent. Yet the iguanodon was thirty feet long, with a thigh six feet, and a body fourteen feet in circumference. What an alarm would it now produce, to have such a monster start into life in the forests of England, where no analogous animal could be found more than half a foot in length! Surely this must have been one of the fabulous monsters of antiquity.
Still more heteroclitic and unlike existing nature was the pterodactyle, a small lizard, contemporary with the ichthyosaurus and plesiosaurus. At one time anatomists regarded it as a bird, at another as a bat, and finally as a reptile, having the head and neck of a bird, the body and tail of a quadruped, the wings of a bat, and the teeth of a saurian reptile. With its wings it could fly or swim; it could walk on two feet or four; with its claws it could climb or creep. “Thus,” says Dr. Buckland, “like Milton’s fiend, all qualified for all services, and all elements, the pterodactyle was a fit companion for the kindred reptiles that swarmed in the seas, or crawled on the shores of a turbulent planet.”
“The fiend,
O’er bog, or steep, through straight, rough, dense, or rare,
With head, hands, wings, or feet pursues his way,
And swims, or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or flies.”
Now, when the details of such facts are brought before us, it is very natural to feel that it is the history of monsters, and that the Centaurs, the Gorgons, and Chimeras of the ancients, are no more unlike existing animals than these resurrections from the rocks. But further examination rectifies our mistake, and we recognize them as parts of one great system. All the peculiarities of size, and structure, and form, which we meet, we find to be only wise and benevolent adaptations to the different circumstances in which animals have been placed. The gigantic size of many of them, compared with existing races, may be explained by the tropical, or even ultra tropical character of the climate; and not a single anomaly of structure and form can be pointed out, which did not contribute to the convenience and happiness of the species, in the circumstances in which they were placed. It is our ignorance and narrow views alone that give any of them the aspect of monsters. Listen to the opinion of Sir Charles Bell, one of the ablest of modern anatomists. “The animals of the antediluvian world,” says he, “were not monsters; there is no lusus, or extravagance. Hideous as they appear to us, and like the phantoms of a dream, they were adapted to the condition of the earth when they existed.” “Judging by these indications of the habits of the animals, we acquire a knowledge of the condition of the earth during their period of existence; that it was suited at one time to the scaly tribe of the lacertæ, with languid motion; at another, to animals of higher organization, with more varied and lively habits; and, finally, we learn that, at any period previous to man’s creation, the surface of the earth would have been unsuitable to him.”—Bridgewater Treatise, pp. 35 and 31.
A similar view is given of this subject by England’s geological poet, (Rev. Mr. Wilks,) in whose playful verses we find more of true science and just inference than in many a ponderous tome of grave prose. In one of his poems he says,—
“Seamy coal,
Limestone, or oölite, and other sections,
Give us strange tidings of our old connections;
Our arborescent ferns, of climate torrid,
With unknown shapes of names and natures horrid;
Strange ichthyosaurus, or iguanodon,
With many more I cannot verse upon,—
Lost species and lost genera; some whose bias
Is chalk, marl, sandstone, gravel, or blue lias;
Birds, beasts, fish, insects, reptiles; fresh, marine,
Perfect as yesterday among us seen
In rock or cave; ’tis passing strange to me
How such incongruous mixture e’er could be.
And yet no medley was it: each its station
Once occupied in wise and meet location.
God is a God of order, though to scan
His works may pose the feeble powers of man.”
The facts and reasonings which have now been presented will sustain the following important inferences:—
In the first place, we learn that the notions which have so widely prevailed, in ancient and modern times, respecting a chaos, are without foundation.