COMPARATIVE VIEW OF THE CLEAVAGE OF CRYSTALS AND SLATE-ROCKS.
A LECTURE DELIVERED AT THE ROYAL INSTITUTION, ON FRIDAY EVENING THE 6TH OF JUNE, 1856.[A]
When the student of physical science has to investigate the character of any natural force, his first care must be to purify it from the mixture of other forces, and thus study its simple action. If, for example, he wishes to know how a mass of water would shape itself, supposing it to be at liberty to follow the bent of its own molecular forces, he must see that these forces have free and undisturbed exercise. We might perhaps refer him to the dew-drop for a solution of the question; but here we have to do, not only with the action of the molecules of the liquid upon each other, but also with the action of gravity upon the mass, which pulls the drop downwards and elongates it. If he would examine the problem in its purity, he must do as Plateau has done, withdraw the liquid mass from the action of gravity, and he would then find the shape of the mass to be perfectly spherical. Natural processes come to us in a mixed manner, and to the uninstructed mind are a mass of unintelligible confusion. Suppose half-a-dozen of the best musical performers to be placed in the same room, each playing his own instrument to perfection: though each individual instrument might be a well-spring of melody, still the mixture of all would produce mere noise. Thus it is with the processes of nature. In nature, mechanical and molecular laws mingle, and create apparent confusion. Their mixture constitutes what may be called the noise of natural laws, and it is the vocation of the man of science to resolve this noise into its components, and thus to detect the "music" in which the foundations of nature are laid.
The necessity of this detachment of one force from all other forces is nowhere more strikingly exhibited than in the phenomena of crystallization. I have here a solution of sulphate of soda. Prolonging the mental vision beyond the boundaries of sense, we see the atoms of that liquid, like squadrons under the eye of an experienced general, arranging themselves into battalions, gathering round a central standard, and forming themselves into solid masses, which after a time assume the visible shape of the crystal which I here hold in my hand. I may, like an ignorant meddler wishing to hasten matters, introduce confusion into this order. I do so by plunging this glass rod into the vessel. The consequent action is not the pure expression of the crystalline forces; the atoms rush together with the confusion of an unorganized mob, and not with the steady accuracy of a disciplined host. Here, also, in this mass of bismuth we have an example of this confused crystallization; but in the crucible behind me a slower process is going on: here there is an architect at work "who makes no chips, no din," and who is now building the particles into crystals, similar in shape and structure to those beautiful masses which we see upon the table. By permitting alum to crystallize in this slow way, we obtain these perfect octahedrons; by allowing carbonate of lime to crystallize, nature produces these beautiful rhomboids; when silica crystallizes, we have formed these hexagonal prisms capped at the ends by pyramids; by allowing saltpetre to crystallize, we have these prismatic masses; and when carbon crystallizes, we have the diamond. If we wish to obtain a perfect crystal, we must allow the molecular forces free play: if the crystallizing mass be permitted to rest upon a surface it will be flattened, and to prevent this a small crystal must be so suspended as to be surrounded on all sides by the liquid, or, if it rest upon the surface, it must be turned daily so as to present all its faces in succession to the working builder. In this way the scientific man nurses these children of his intellect, watches over them with a care worthy of imitation, keeps all influences away which might possibly invade the strict morality of crystalline laws, and finally sees them developed into forms of symmetry and beauty which richly reward the care bestowed upon them.
In building up crystals, these little atomic bricks often arrange themselves into layers which are perfectly parallel to each other, and which can be separated by mechanical means; this is called the cleavage of the crystal. I have here a crystallized mass which has thus far escaped the abrading and disintegrating forces which, sooner or later, determine the fate of sugar-candy. If I am skilful enough, I shall discover that this crystal of sugar cleaves with peculiar facility in one direction. Here, again, I have a mass of rock-salt: I lay my knife upon it, and with a blow cleave it in this direction; but I find on further examining this substance that it cleaves in more directions than one. Laying my knife at right angles to its former position, the crystal cleaves again; and, finally placing the knife at right angles to the two former positions, the mass cleaves again. Thus rock-salt cleaves in three directions, and the resulting solid is this perfect cube, which may be broken up into any number of smaller cubes. Here is a mass of Iceland spar, which also cleaves in three directions, not at right angles, but obliquely to each other, the resulting solid being a rhomboid. In each of these cases the mass cleaves with equal facility in all three directions. For the sake of completeness, I may say that many substances cleave with unequal facility in different directions, and the heavy spar I hold in my hand presents an example of this kind of cleavage.
Turn we now to the consideration of some other phenomena to which the term cleavage may be applied. This piece of beech-wood cleaves with facility parallel to the fibre, and if our experiments were fine enough we should discover that the cleavage is most perfect when the edge of the axe is laid across the rings which mark the growth of the tree. The fibres of the wood lie side by side, and a comparatively small force is sufficient to separate them. If you look at this mass of hay severed from a rick, you will see a sort of cleavage developed in it also; the stalks lie in parallel planes, and only a small force is required to separate them laterally. But we cannot regard the cleavage of the tree as the same in character as the cleavage of the hayrick. In the one case it is the atoms arranging themselves according to organic laws which produce a cleavable structure; in the other case the easy separation in a certain direction is due to the mechanical arrangement of the coarse sensible masses of stalks of hay.
In like manner I find that this piece of sandstone cleaves parallel to the planes of bedding. This rock was once a powder, more or less coarse, held in mechanical suspension by water. The powder was composed of two distinct parts, fine grains of sand and small plates of mica. Imagine a wide strand covered by a tide which holds such powder in suspension:[B] how will it sink? The rounded grains of sand will reach the bottom first, the mica afterwards, and when the tide recedes we have the little plates shining like spangles upon the surface of the sand. Each successive tide brings its charge of mixed powder, deposits its duplex layer day after day, and finally masses of immense thickness are thus piled up, which, by preserving the alternations of sand and mica, tell the tale of their formation. I do not wish you to accept this without proof. Take the sand and mica, mix them together in water, and allow them to subside, they will arrange themselves in the manner I have indicated; and by repeating the process you can actually build up a sandstone mass which shall be the exact counterpart of that presented by nature, as I have done in this glass jar. Now this structure cleaves with readiness along the planes in which the particles of mica are strewn. Here is a mass of such a rock sent to me from Halifax: here are other masses from the quarries of Over Darwen in Lancashire. With a hammer and chisel you see I can cleave them into flags; indeed these flags are made use of for roofing purposes in the districts from which the specimens have come, and receive the name of "slate-stone." But you will discern, without a word from me, that this cleavage is not a crystalline cleavage any more than that of a hayrick is. It is not an arrangement produced by molecular forces; indeed it would be just as reasonable to suppose that in this jar of sand and mica the particles arranged themselves into layers by the forces of crystallization, instead of by the simple force of gravity, as to imagine that such a cleavage as this could be the product of crystallization.
This, so far as I am aware of, has never been imagined, and it has been agreed among geologists not to call such splitting as this cleavage at all, but to restrict the term to a class of phenomena which I shall now proceed to consider.
Those who have visited the slate quarries of Cumberland and North Wales will have witnessed the phenomena to which I refer. We have long drawn our supply of roofing-slates from such quarries; schoolboys ciphered on these slates, they were used for tombstones in churchyards, and for billiard-tables in the metropolis; but not until a comparatively late period did men begin to inquire how their wonderful structure was produced. What is the agency which enables us to split Honister Crag, or the cliffs of Snowdon, into laminæ from crown to base? This question is at the present moment one of the greatest difficulties of geologists, and occupies their attention perhaps more than any other. You may wonder at this. Looking into the quarry of Penrhyn, you may be disposed to explain the question as I heard it explained two years ago. "These planes of cleavage," said a friend who stood beside me on the quarry's edge, "are the planes of stratification which have been lifted by some convulsion into an almost vertical position." But this was a great mistake, and indeed here lies the grand difficulty of the problem. These planes of cleavage stand in most cases at a high angle to the bedding. Thanks to Sir Roderick Murchison, who has kindly permitted me the use of specimens from the Museum of Practical Geology (and here I may be permitted to express my acknowledgments to the distinguished staff of that noble establishment, who, instead of considering me an intruder, have welcomed me as a brother), I am able to place the proof of this before you. Here is a mass of slate in which the planes of bedding are distinctly marked; here are the planes of cleavage, and you see that one of them makes a large angle with the other. The cleavage of slates is therefore not a question of stratification, and the problem which we have now to consider is, "By what cause has this cleavage been produced?"
In an able and elaborate essay on this subject in 1835, Professor Sedgwick proposed the theory that cleavage is produced by the action of crystalline or polar forces after the mass has been consolidated. "We may affirm," he says, "that no retreat of the parts, no contraction of dimensions in passing to a solid state can explain such phenomena. They appear to me only resolvable on the supposition that crystalline or polar forces acted upon the whole mass simultaneously in one direction and with adequate force." And again, in another place: "Crystalline forces have rearranged whole mountain-masses, producing a beautiful crystalline cleavage, passing alike through all the strata."[C] The utterance of such a man struck deep, as was natural, into the minds of geologists, and at the present day there are few who do not entertain this view either in whole or in part.[D] The magnificence of the theory, indeed, has in some cases caused speculation to run riot, and we have books published, aye and largely sold, on the action of polar forces and geologic magnetism, which rather astonish those who know something about the subject. According to the theory referred to, miles and miles of the districts of North Wales and Cumberland, comprising huge mountain-masses, are neither more nor less than the parts of a gigantic crystal. These masses of slate were originally fine mud; this mud is composed of the broken and abraded particles of older rocks. It contains silica, alumina, iron, potash, soda, and mica, mixed in sensible masses mechanically together. In the course of ages the mass became consolidated, and the theory before us assumes that afterwards a process of crystallization rearranged the particles and developed in the mass a single plane of crystalline cleavage. With reference to this hypothesis, I will only say that it is a bold stretch of analogies; but still it has done good service: it has drawn attention to the question; right or wrong, a theory thus thoughtfully uttered has its value; it is a dynamic power which operates against intellectual stagnation; and, even by provoking opposition, is eventually of service to the cause of truth. It would, however, have been remarkable, if, among the ranks of geologists themselves, men were not found to seek an explanation of the phenomena in question, which involved a less hardy spring on the part of the speculative faculty than the view to which I have just referred.