This great stretch of the western continent, from north to south, is also connected with the interesting fact that, when new floras are entering from the arctic regions, they appear earlier in America than in Europe, and that in times when old floras are retreating from the south old genera and species linger longer in America. Thus, in the Devonian and Cretaceous new forms of those periods appear in America long before they are recognized in Europe, and in the modern epoch forms that would be regarded in Europe as Miocene still exist. Much confusion in reasoning as to the geological ages of the fossil floras has arisen from want of attention to this circumstance.

What we have learned respecting this wonderful history has served strangely to change some of our preconceived ideas. We must now be prepared to admit that an Eden can be planted even in Spitzbergen, that there are possibilities in this old earth of ours which its present condition does not reveal to us; that the present state of the world is by no means the best possible in relation to climate and vegetation; that there have been and might be again conditions which could convert the ice-clad arctic regions into blooming paradises, and which at the same time would moderate the fervent heat of the tropics. We are accustomed to say that nothing is impossible with God; but how little have we known of the gigantic possibilities which lie hidden under some of the most common of his natural laws!

These facts have naturally been made the occasion of speculations as to the spontaneous development of plants by processes of varietal derivation. It would, from this point of view, be a nice question to calculate how many revolutions of climate would suffice to evolve the first land-plant; what are the chances that such plant would be so dealt with by physical changes as to be preserved and nursed into a meagre flora like that of the Upper Silurian or the Jurassic; how many transportations to Greenland would suffice to promote such meagre flora into the rich and abundant forests of the Upper Cretaceous, and to people the earth with the exuberant vegetation of the early Tertiary. Such problems we may never be able to solve. Probably they admit of no solution, unless we invoke the action of an Almighty mind, operating through long ages, and correlating with boundless power and wisdom all the energies inherent in inorganic and organic nature. Even then we shall perhaps be able to comprehend only the means by which, after specific types have been created, they may, by the culture of their Maker, be “sported” into new varieties or subspecies, and thus fitted to exist under different conditions or to occupy higher places in the economy of nature.

Before venturing on such extreme speculations as some now current on questions of this kind, we would require to know the successive extinct floras as perfectly as those of the modern world, and to be able to ascertain to what extent each species can change either spontaneously or under the influence of struggle for existence or expansion under favourable conditions, and under arctic semi-annual days and nights, or the shorter days of the tropics. Such knowledge, if ever acquired, it may take ages of investigation to accumulate.

As to the origin and mode of introduction of successive floras, I am, for the reasons above stated, not disposed to dogmatise, or to adopt as final any existing theory of the development of the vegetable kingdom. Still, some laws regulating the progress of vegetable life may be recognised, and I propose to state these in connection with the Palæozoic floras, to which my own studies have chiefly related.

Fossil plants are almost proverbially uncertain with reference to their accurate determination, and have been regarded as of comparatively little utility in the decision of general questions of palæontology. This results principally from the fragmentary condition in which they have been studied, and from the fact that fragments of animal structures are more definite and instructive than corresponding portions of plants.

It is to be observed, however, that our knowledge of fossil plants becomes accurate in proportion to the extent to which we can carry the study of specimens in the beds in which they are preserved, so as to examine more perfect examples than those usually to be found in museums. When structures are taken into the account, as well as external forms, we can also depend more confidently on our results. Further, the abundance of specimens to be obtained in particular beds often goes far to make up for their individual imperfection. The writer of these pages has been enabled to avail himself very fully of these advantages; and on this account, if on no other, feels entitled to speak with some authority on theoretical questions.

It is an additional encouragement to pursue the subject, that, when we can obtain definite information as to the successive floras of any region, we thereby learn much as to climate and vicissitudes in regard to the extent of land and water; and that, with reference to such points, the evidence of fossil plants, when properly studied, is, from the close relation of plants to those stations and climates, even more valuable than that of animal fossils.

It is necessary, however, that in pursuing such inquiries we should have some definite views as to the nature and permanence of specific forms, whether with reference to a single geological period or to successive periods; and I may be excused for stating here some general principles, which I think important for our guidance.

1. Botanists proceed on the assumption, vindicated by experience, that, within the period of human observation, species have not materially varied or passed into each other. We may make, for practical purposes, the same assumption with regard to any given geological period, and may hold that for each such period there are specific types which, for the time at least, are invariable.