Having submitted a specimen of the cryptogam in question to the eminent lichenologist, Mr. Crombie, I am informed that the plant belongs to the group of lowly organized lichens, now distinguished as the Ephebacei, but formerly referred to the Algæ. In the absence of fructification, Mr. Crombie is unable to decide whether the specimen should be referred to Sirosiphon or Spilonema; but he is sceptical as to the possibility of any direct chemical action upon the rock arising from the growth of the lichen. Some indirect action may, in his opinion, be due to retention of moisture on surfaces covered by the lichen. This opinion is strengthened when it is remembered that the rock is not affected by carbonic acid, which might be derived from the air, or by vegetable acids which might be formed by the decomposition of the lichen. I am disposed to think that vicissitudes of temperature play a great part in the disintegration of rock surfaces, and such action must be increased by alternations of moisture and dryness which must occur where, during a great part of the year, the hills are covered with fog in the morning and exposed to the sun in the afternoon.
DISINTEGRATION OF ROCKS.
In connection with this subject I may remark that, in countries where the rainfall is very slight or altogether deficient, we are apt to be misled by the appearance of the surface, and to much overrate the real amount of disintegration. In the drier parts of the Mediterranean region, especially in Egypt, as well as in Peru and Chili, we constantly see rocky slopes covered with fine débris which represent the accumulated work of many centuries, remaining in situ because there is no agency at work to remove it, while in countries where the slopes are frequently exposed to the action of running water fresh surfaces are subjected to the action of the atmosphere, and the comminuted materials are carried to a distance to form alluvial flats, to fill up lakes, or ultimately to reach the sea-coast. A somewhat similar remark may be made with regard to rock surfaces habitually covered with snow and very rarely exposed to heavy rain. I have often observed in the Alps and Pyrenees that, when the snow disappears during the short summer of the higher regions, we generally find the surface covered with small fragments of the underlying rock, not removed by the slow percolation of water during the melting of the snow. The same phenomenon long ago attracted the attention of Darwin during his short excursion across the passes of the Chilian Andes.
I regretted much that my very short stay at Lima left me no time to visit the places where these curious appearances may be observed; but I trust that they may engage the attention of some future traveller more competent than myself to thoroughly investigate them.
The morning of the 29th of April, my last day in Peru, was fully employed in needful preparations. As is usual in South America, I was troubled by the dilatory habits of the natives. The passport, which was promised in the morning, and without which, as I was told, I should not be allowed to depart, was not forthcoming until late in the afternoon; and at length I went, after bidding farewell to my travelling companions and to some new friends, by the four-o’clock train to Callao, too late to have any time for visiting the surroundings of that curious place. The Ayacucho steamer of the Pacific Steam Navigation Company had already left her moorings, and lay in the outer harbour. Having hurried on board rather after the hour named for departure, I found that my haste was quite superfluous, as we were not under way till long after dark, about nine p.m.
I quitted Lima full of the interest and enjoyment of my brief visit, but full also of the sense of depression necessarily caused by the condition of a country whose future prospects are so dark. The ruinous war, and the occupation of the best part of Peru by a foreign army, are far from being the heaviest of her misfortunes. It may even be that they afford the best chance for her recovery. The immediate prospect is that of a feeble military despotism, tempered by anarchy. It seems possible that amongst the classes hitherto wealthy, and now reduced to comparative want, men of a type superior to the ordinary political adventurer may come forward; some strong man, with resolute will and clear insight, may possibly arise, and re-establish order in the midst of a moral chaos; but of such a deliverance there is as yet no promise. Conversing with men of very different opinions, I was unable to hear of any man whose name inspired confidence. Some such feeling had existed with regard to the President Pardo, but when he was assassinated no serious attempt was made to detect and punish his murderers. The only opinion which appeared to obtain general assent was that the worst of the adventurers who have been the curse of Peru was the late dictator Pierola.
DARK FUTURE OF PERU.
One thing, at least, appears certain: if Peru is to be rescued from anarchy and corruption, it must be through the influence of a single will—by a virtual, if not a formal, autocracy. To believe that in such a condition of society as exists here progress can be accomplished by representative institutions seems to me as gross a superstition as the belief in the divine right of kings.