As we stated in our brief general description of the visible hemisphere of the moon, and as a cursory glance at our map and plates will have shown, the predominant features of the lunar surface are the circular or amphitheatrical formations that, by their number, and from their almost unnatural uniformity of design, induced the belief among early observers that they must have been of artificial origin. In proceeding now to examine the details of our subject with more minuteness than before, these annular formations claim the first share of our attention.
By general acceptation the term “crater” has been used to represent nearly all the circular hollows that we observe upon the moon; and without doubt the word in its literal sense, as indicating a cup or circular cavity, is so far aptly applied. But among geologists it has been employed in a more special sense to define the hollowing out that is found at the summit of some extinct, and the majority of active, volcanoes. In this special sense it may be used by the student of the lunar surface, though in some, and indeed in the majority of cases, the lunar crater differs materially in its form with respect to its surroundings from those on the earth; for while, as we have said, the terrestrial crater is generally a hollow on a mountain top with its flat bottom high above the level of the surrounding country, those upon the moon have their lowest points depressed more or less deeply below the general surface of the moon, the external height being frequently only a half or one-third of the internal depth. Yet are the lunar craters truly volcanic; as Sir John Herschel has said, they offer the true volcanic character in its highest perfection. We have upon the earth some few instances in which the geological conditions which have determined the surface-formation have been identical with those that have obtained upon the moon; and as a result we have some terrestrial volcanic districts that, could we view them under the same circumstances, would be identical in character with what we see by telescopic aid upon our satellite. The most remarkable case of this similarity is offered by a certain tract of the volcanic area about Naples, known from classic times as the Campi Phlegræi, or burning fields, a name given to them in early days, either because they showed traces of ancient earth-fire, or because there were attached to the localities traditions concerning hot-springs and sulphurous exhalations, if not of actual fiery eruptions. The resemblance of which we are speaking is here so close that Professor Phillips, in his work on Vesuvius, which by the way contains a historical description of the district in question, calls the moon a grand Phlegreian field. How closely the ancient craters of this famous spot resemble the generality of those upon the moon may be judged from [Plate VI]., in which representations of two areas, terrestrial and lunar, of the same extent, are exhibited side by side, the terrestrial region being the volcanic neighbourhood of Naples, and the lunar a portion of the surface about the crater Theophilus.
In comparing these volcanic circles together, we are however brought face to face with a striking difference that exists between the lunar and terrestrial craters. This is the difference of magnitude. None of those Plutonian amphitheatres included in the terrestrial area depicted exceed a mile in diameter, and few larger volcanic vents than these are known upon the earth. Yet when we turn to the moon, and measure some of the larger craters there, we are astonished to find them ranging from an almost invisible minuteness to 74 miles in diameter. The same disproportion exists between the depths of the two classes of craters. To give an idea of relative dimensions, we would refer to our illustration of Copernicus[8] and its hundreds of comparatively minute surrounding craters. Our terrestrial Vesuvius would be represented by one of these last, which upon the plate measures about the twentieth of an inch in diameter! And this disproportion strikes us the more forcibly when we consider that the lunar globe has an area only one-thirteenth of that of the earth. In view of this great apparent discrepancy it is not surprising that many should have been incredulous as to the true volcanic character of the lunar mountains, and have preferred to designate them by some “non-committal” term, as an American geologist (Professor Dana) has expressed it. But there is a feature in the majority of the ring-mountains that, as we conceive, demonstrates completely the fact of volcanic force having been in full action, and that seems to stamp the volcanic character upon the crater-forms. This special feature is the central cone, so well known as a characteristic of terrestrial volcanoes, accepted as the result of the last expiring effort of the eruptive force, and formed by the deposit, immediately around the volcanic orifice, of matter which there was not force enough to project to a greater distance. Upon the moon we have the central cone in small craters comparable to those on the earth, and we have it in progressively larger examples, upon all scales, up to craters of 74 miles in diameter, as we have shown in [Plate VII]. Where, then, can we draw the line? Where can we say the parallel action to that which placed Vesuvius in or near the centre of the arc of Somma, or the cone figured in our sectional drawing of Vesuvius ([Fig. 3]) in the middle of its present crater—where can we say that the action in question ceased to manifest itself on the moon, seeing that there is no break in the continuity of the crater-and-cone system upon the moon anywhere between craters of 1¾ miles and 74 miles in diameter? We have, it is true, many examples of coneless craters, but these are of all sizes, down to the smallest, and up to a largeness that would almost seem to render untenable the ejective explanation: of these we shall specially speak in turn, but for the present we will confine ourselves to the normal class of lunar craters, those that have central cones, and that are in all reasonable probability truly volcanic.
Fig. 16.
And in the first place let us take a passing glance at the probable formative process of a terrestrial volcano. Rejecting the hypothesis of Von Buch, which geologists have on the whole found to be untenable, and which ascribes the formation of all mountains to the elevation of the earth’s crust by some thrusting power beneath, we are led to regard a volcano as a pyramid of ejected matter, thrown out of and around an orifice in the external solid shell of the earth by commotions engendered in its molten nucleus. What is the precise nature and source of the ejective force geologists have not perfectly agreed upon, but we may conceive that highly expanded vapour, in all probability steam, is its primary cause. The escaping aperture may have been a weak place since the foundations of the earth were laid, or it may have been formed by a local expansion of the nucleus in the act of cooling, upon the principle enunciated in our Third Chapter; or, again, the expansile vapour may have forced its own way through that point of the confining shell that offered it the least resistance. The vent once formed, the building of the volcanic mountain commenced by the out-belching of the lava, ashes, and scoria, and the dispersion of these around the vent at distances depending upon the energy with which they were projected. As the action continued, the ejected matter would accumulate in the form of a mound, through the centre of which communication would be maintained with the source of the ejected materials and the seat of the explosive agency. The height to which the pile would rise must depend upon several conditions: upon the steady sustenance of the matter, and upon the form and weight of the component masses, which will determine the slope of the mountain’s sides. Supposing the action to subside gradually, the tapering form will be continued upwards by the comparatively gentle deposition of material around the orifice, and a perfect cone will result of some such form as that represented below, which is the outline ascribed by Professor Phillips to Vesuvius in pre-historic, or even pre-traditional times, and which may be seen in its full integrity in the cases of Etna, Teneriffe, Fussi-Yamma, the great volcanic mountain of Japan, and many others. The earliest recorded form of Vesuvius is that of a truncated cone represented in [Fig. 17], which shows its condition, according to Strabo, in the century preceding the Christian Era.
PLATE VII
DIAGRAM OF LUNAR CRATERS FORMING A SERIES RANGING FROM 1¾ MILES TO 78 MILES DIAMETER. ALL CONTAINING CENTRAL CONES.
Fig. 17.