Very well, now leave the earth, and think what has been happening to the moon all this while.

We have seen that the moon pulls the tidal hump nearest to it back; but action and reaction are always equal and opposite—it cannot do that without itself getting pulled forward. The pull of the earth on the moon will therefore not be quite central, but will be a little in advance of its centre; hence, by Kepler's second law, the rate of description of areas by its radius vector cannot be constant, but must increase ([p. 208]). And the way it increases will be for the radius vector to lengthen, so as to sweep out a bigger area. Or, to put it another way, the extra speed tending to be gained by the moon will fling it further away by extra centrifugal force. This last is not so good a way of regarding the matter; though it serves well enough for the case of a ball whirled at the end of an elastic string. After having got up the whirl, the hand holding the string may remain almost fixed at the centre of the circle, and the motion will continue steadily; but if the hand be moved so as always to pull the string a little in advance of the centre, the speed of whirl will increase, the elastic will be more and more stretched, until the whirling ball is describing a much larger circle. But in this case it will likewise be going faster—distance and speed increase together. This is because it obeys a different law from gravitation—the force is not inversely as the square, or any other single power, of the distance. It does not obey any of Kepler's laws, and so it does not obey the one which now concerns us, viz. the third; which practically states that the further a planet is from the centre the slower it goes; its velocity varies inversely with the square root of its distance ([p. 74]).

If, instead of a ball held by elastic, it were a satellite held by gravity, an increase in distance must be accompanied by a diminution in speed. The time of revolution varies as the square of the cube root of the distance (Kepler's third law). Hence, the tidal reaction on the moon, having as its primary effect, as we have seen, the pulling the moon a little forward, has also the secondary or indirect effect of making it move slower and go further off. It may seem strange that an accelerating pull, directed in front of the centre, and therefore always pulling the moon the way it is going, should retard it; and that a retarding force like friction, if such a force acted, should hasten it, and make it complete its orbit sooner; but so it precisely is.

Gradually, but very slowly, the moon is receding from us, and the month is becoming longer. The tides of the earth are pushing it away. This is not a periodic disturbance, like the temporary acceleration of its motion discovered by Laplace, which in a few centuries, more or less, will be reversed; it is a disturbance which always acts one way, and which is therefore cumulative. It is superposed upon all periodic changes, and, though it seems smaller than they, it is more inexorable. In a thousand years it makes scarcely an appreciable change, but in a million years its persistence tells very distinctly; and so, in the long run, the month is getting longer and the moon further off. Working backwards also, we see that in past ages the moon must have been nearer to us than it is now, and the month shorter.

Now just note what the effect of the increased nearness of the moon was upon our tides. Remember that the tide-generating force varies inversely as the cube of distance, wherefore a small change of distance will produce a great difference in the tide-force.

The moon's present distance is 240 thousand miles. At a time when it was only 190 thousand miles, the earth's tides would have been twice as high as they are now. The pushing away action was then a good deal more violent, and so the process went on quicker. The moon must at some time have been just half its present distance, and the tides would then have risen, not 20 or 30 feet, but 160 or 200 feet. A little further back still, we have the moon at one-third of its present distance from the earth, and the tides 600 feet high. Now just contemplate the effect of a 600-foot tide. We are here only about 150 feet above the level of the sea; hence, the tide would sweep right over us and rush far away inland. At high tide we should have some 200 feet of blue water over our heads. There would be nothing to stop such a tide as that in this neighbourhood till it reached the high lands of Derbyshire. Manchester would be a seaport then with a vengeance!

The day was shorter then, and so the interval between tide and tide was more like ten than twelve hours. Accordingly, in about five hours, all that mass of water would have swept back again, and great tracts of sand between here and Ireland would be left dry. Another five hours, and the water would come tearing and driving over the country, applying its furious waves and currents to the work of denudation, which would proceed apace. These high tides of enormously distant past ages constitute the denuding agent which the geologist required. They are very ancient—more ancient than the Carboniferous period, for instance, for no trees could stand the furious storms that must have been prevalent at this time. It is doubtful whether any but the very lowest forms of life then existed. It is the strata at the bottom of the geological scale that are of the most portentous thickness, and the only organism suspected in them is the doubtful Eozoon Canadense. Sir Robert Ball believes, and several geologists agree with him, that the mighty tides we are contemplating may have been coæval with this ancient Laurentian formation, and others of like nature with it.

But let us leave geology now, and trace the inverted progress of events as we recede in imagination back through the geological era, beyond, into the dim vista of the past, when the moon was still closer and closer to the earth, and was revolving round it quicker and quicker, before life or water existed on it, and when the rocks were still molten.

Suppose the moon once touched the earth's surface, it is easy to calculate, according to the principles of gravitation, and with a reasonable estimate of its size as then expanded by heat, how fast it must then have revolved round the earth, so as just to save itself from falling in. It must have gone round once every three hours. The month was only three hours long at this initial epoch.