TO THE READER.
There are chapters in this little volume which will, I am afraid, be deemed too prolix by the general reader, and which yet the geologist would like less were there any portion of them away. They refer chiefly to organisms not hitherto figured nor described, and must owe their modicum of value to that very minuteness of detail which, by critics of the merely literary type, unacquainted with fossils, and not greatly interested in them, may be regarded as a formidable defect, suited to overlay the general subject of the work. Perhaps the best mode of compromising the matter may be to intimate, as if by beacon, at the outset, the more repulsive chapters; somewhat in the way that the servants of the Humane Society indicate to the skater who frequents in winter the lakes in the neighborhood of Edinburgh, those parts of the ice on which he might be in danger of losing himself. I would recommend, then, readers not particularly palæontological, to pass but lightly over the whole of my fourth and fifth chapters, with the latter half of the third, marking, however, as they skim the pages, the conclusions at which I arrive regarding the bulk and organization of the extraordinary animal described, and the data on which these are founded. My book, like an Irish landscape dotted with green bogs, has its portions on which it may be perilous for the unpractised surveyor to make any considerable stand, but across which he may safely take his sights and lay down his angles.
It will, I trust, be found, that in dealing with errors which, in at least their primary bearing, affect questions of science, I have not offended against the courtesies of scientific controversy. True, they are errors which also involve moral consequences. There is a species of superstition which inclines men to take on trust whatever assumes the name of science; and which seems to be a reaction on the old superstition, that had faith in witches, but none in Sir Isaac Newton, and believed in ghosts, but failed to credit the Gregorian calendar. And, owing mainly to the wide diffusion of this credulous spirit of the modern type, as little disposed to examine what it receives as its ancient unreasoning predecessor, the development doctrines are doing much harm on both sides of the Atlantic, especially among intelligent mechanics, and a class of young men engaged in the subordinate departments of trade and the law. And the harm, thus considerable in amount, must be necessarily more than merely considerable in degree. For it invariably happens, that when persons in these walks become materialists, they become also turbulent subjects and bad men. That belief in the existence after death, which forms the distinguishing instinct of humanity, is too essential a part of man’s moral constitution not to be missed when away; and so, when once fairly eradicated, the life and conduct rarely fail to betray its absence. But I have not, from any consideration of the mischief thus effected, written as if arguments, like cannon-balls, could be rendered more formidable than in the cool state by being made red-hot. I have not even felt, in discussing the question, as if I had a man before me as an opponent; for though my work contains numerous references to the author of the “Vestiges,” I have invariably thought on these occasions, not of the anonymous writer of the volume, of whom I know nothing, but simply of an ingenious, well-written book, unfortunate in its facts and not always very happy in its reasonings. Further, I do not think that palæontological fact, in its bearing on the points at issue, is of such a doubtful complexion as to leave the geologist, however much from moral considerations in earnest in the matter, any very serious excuse for losing his temper.
In my reference to the three great divisions of the geologic scale, I designate as Palæozoic all the fossiliferous rocks, from the first appearance of organic existence down to the close of the Permian system; all as Secondary, from the close of the Permian system down to the close of the Cretaceous deposits; and all as Tertiary, from the close of the Cretaceous deposits down to the introduction of man. The wood-cuts of the volume, of which at least nine tenths of the whole represent objects never figured before, were drawn and cut by Mr. John Adams of Edinburgh, (8, Heriot Place,) with a degree of care and skill which has left me no reason to regret my distance from the London artists and engravers. So far at least as the objects could be adequately represented on wood, and in the limited space at Mr. Adams’ command, their truth is such that I can safely recommend them to the palæontologist. In the accompanying descriptions, and in my statements of geologic fact in general, it will, I hope, be seen that I have not exaggerated the peculiar features on which I have founded, nor rendered truth partial in order to make it serve a purpose. Where I have reasoned and inferred, the reader will of course be able to judge for himself whether the argument be sound or the deduction just; and to weigh, where I have merely speculated, the probability of the speculation; but as, in at least some of my statements of fact, he might lie more at my mercy, I have striven in every instance to make these adequately representative of the actualities to which they refer. And so, if it be ultimately found that on some occasions I have misled others, it will, I hope, be also seen to be only in cases in which I have been mistaken myself. The first or popular title of my work, “Foot-prints of the Creator,” I owe to Dr. Hetherington, the well-known historian of the Church of Scotland. My other various obligations to my friends, literary and scientific, the reader will find acknowledged in the body of the volume, as the occasion occurs of availing myself of either the information communicated, or the organism, recent or extinct, lent me or given.
HUGH MILLER,
AUTHOR OF
“OLD RED SANDSTONE” AND “FOOTPRINTS OF THE CREATOR.”
The geological works of Hugh Miller have excited the greatest interest, not only among scientific men, but also among general readers. There is in them a freshness of conception, a power of argumentation, a depth of thought, a purity of feelings, rarely met with in works of that character, which are well calculated to call forth sympathy, and to increase the popularity of a science which has already done so much to expand our views of the Plan of Creation. The scientific illustrations published by Mr. Miller are most happily combined with considerations of a higher order, rendering both equally acceptable to the thinking reader. But what is in a great degree peculiar to our author, is the successful combination of Christian doctrines with pure scientific truths. On that account, his works deserve peculiar attention. His generalizations have nothing of the vagueness which too often characterize the writings of those authors who have attempted to make the results of science subservient to the cause of religion. Struck with the beauty of Mr. Miller’s works, it has for some time past been my wish to see them more extensively circulated in this country; and I have obtained leave from the author to publish an American edition of his “Footprints of the Creator,” for which he has most liberally furnished the publishers with the admirable wood-cuts of the original.
While preparing some additional chapters, and various notes illustrative of certain points alluded to incidentally in this work, it was deemed advisable to preface it with a short biographical notice of the author. I had already sketched such a paper, when I became acquainted with a full memoir of this remarkable man, containing most interesting details of his earlier life, written by that eminent historian of the “Martyrs of Science,” the great natural philosopher of Scotland. It has occurred to me that, owing to the frequent references which I could not avoid to my own researches, I had better substitute this ample Biography for my short sketch, with such alterations and additions as the connection in which it is brought here would require. I therefore proceed to introduce our author with Sir David Brewster’s own words:—
Of all the studies which relate to the material universe, there is none, perhaps, which appeals so powerfully to our senses, or which comes into such close and immediate contact with our wants and enjoyments, as that of Geology. In our hourly walks, whether on business or for pleasure, we tread with heedless step upon the apparently uninteresting objects which it embraces: but could we rightly interrogate the rounded pebble at our feet, it would read us an exciting chapter on the history of primeval times, and would tell us of the convulsions by which it was wrenched from its parent rock, and of the floods by which it was abraded and transported to its present humble locality. In our visit to the picturesque and the sublime in nature, we are brought into closer proximity to the more interesting phenomena of geology. In the precipices which protect our rock-girt shores, which flank our mountain glens, or which variegate our lowland valleys, and in the shapeless fragments at their base, which the lichen colors, and round which the ivy twines, we see the remnants of uplifted and shattered beds, which once reposed in peace at the bottom of the ocean. Nor does the rounded boulder, which would have defied the lapidary’s wheel of the Giant Age, give forth a less oracular response from its grave of clay, or from its lair of sand. Floated by ice from some Alpine summit, or hurried along in torrents of mud, and floods of water, it may have traversed a quarter of the globe, amid the crash of falling forests, and the death shrieks of the noble animals which they sheltered. The mountain range, too, with its catacombs below, along which the earthquake transmits its terrific sounds, reminds us of the mighty power by which it was upheaved;—while the lofty peak, with its cap of ice, or its nostrils of fire, places in our view the tremendous agencies which have been at work beneath us.
But it is not merely amid the powers of external nature that the once hidden things of the Earth are presented to our view. Our temples and our palaces are formed from the rocks of a primeval age; bearing the very ripple-marks of a Pre-Adamite ocean,—grooved by the passage of the once moving boulder, and embosoming the relics of ancient life, and the plants by which it was sustained. Our dwellings, too, are ornamented with the variegated limestones,—the indurated tombs of molluscous life,—and our apartments heated with the carbon of primeval forests, and lighted with the gaseous element which it confines. The obelisk of granite, and the colossal bronze which transmit to future ages the deeds of the hero and the sage, are equally the production of the Earth’s prolific womb; and from the green bed of the ocean has been raised the pure and spotless marble, to mould the divine lineaments of beauty, and perpetuate the expressions of intellectual power. From a remoter age, and a still greater depth, the primary and secondary rocks have yielded a rich tribute to the chaplet of rank, and to the processes of art.