| When life's last parting ray is shed, And darkness shrouds this pallid form; When I have laid this aching head, Secure from ev'ry earthly storm— Oh! then how sweet it is to think That some fond heart yet warm and true, Will cherish still the severed link Which death's rude hand has snapt in two. Who oft, at evening's pensive hour, From all the busy crowd will steal, To dress the vine and nurse the flower That deck my grave, with pious zeal. And ling'ring there, will lightly tread, As fearful to disturb my sleep, And oft relieve the drooping head Upon her slender hand, and weep. And oh! if in that world which rolls Sublime beyond this earthly sphere, That love still warms departed souls, Which once they fondly cherished here. Oh! yes, if in such hour is given, And parted souls such scenes may see, At that pure hour I'd leave e'en heav'n, And kiss the heart that wept for me. |
L.
Pittsylvania.
For the Southern Literary Messenger.
HINTS TO STUDENTS OF GEOLOGY.
BY PETER A. BROWNE, ESQ.
NO. I.
The word "science," in its most comprehensive sense, means "knowledge." In its general acceptation, it is "knowledge reduced to a system;" that is to say, arranged in regular order, so that it can be conveniently taught, easily remembered, and readily applied to useful purposes. An art is the application of knowledge to some practicable end,—to answer some useful or ornamental purpose. The sciences, are sometimes divided into the abstract and the natural; by the former we are taught the knowledge of reasons and their conclusions; by the latter we are enabled to find out causes and effects, and to study the laws by which the material world is governed. To the abstract sciences belong, first, language, whether oral or written, including grammar, logic, &c.; secondly, notation, including arithmetic, algebra, geometry, &c. Philosophy inquires into the laws that regulate the phenomena of nature, whether in the material or immaterial world; it is generally divided into three classes, two of which are material and one immaterial. The material are, first, those which relate to number and quantity; secondly, those which relate to matter. The immaterial are those which relate to mind. The second class of the material is called "natural philosophy" or "physics," and sometimes the "physical sciences." Natural philosophy, in its most comprehensive sense, has for its province the laws of matter, whether organic or inorganic. These laws may regard either the motions or properties of matter, and hence arises their division into two branches—first, those which regard the motions of matter, which are called mechanics; and secondly, those which regard the properties of matter, which are subdivided, and have various names, according to the different objects of investigation. When the inquiry is confined to organized bodies and life, it is called physiology; which is again subdivided into zoology and botany. When it treats of inorganic matter, it is subdivided into chemistry, anatomy, medicine, mineralogy and geology. The principles of natural philosophy rest upon observation and experiment. Observation is the noticing of natural phenomena at they occur, without any attempt to influence the frequency of their occurrence. Experiment consists in putting in action causes and agents, over which we have control, for the purpose of noticing their effects. From a comparison of a number of facts, obtained from either observation or experiment, the existence of general laws are proved. The laws of man are complicated; to understand their objects, we are often obliged to take the most circuitous routes; but the laws by which nature governs all her works are beautifully simple, and they are found to lead directly to the end she has in view. To study them, therefore, according to the rules that have been laid down, viz: from observation and experiment, is pleasant and easy. The principal difficulties that have arisen, are owing to the improper manner in which the subjects connected with natural history have often been treated. Natural philosophy regards what was the condition of natural bodies: but many persons exert the whole force of their genius to discover what they might have been. And as there is no department of natural philosophy into which this erroneous method of procedure has made greater inroads than geology, nor any science that has suffered so severely in such conflicts, it may not be amiss to appropriate half an hour to the inquiry whence this error has arisen; and, if possible, point out the best method of avoiding its dangerous tendency. The word geology is derived from two Greek words, signifying "the earth" and "reason;" and it is that science which teaches the structure of the crust of the earth, and ascertains its mineralogical materials, and the order in which they are disposed, and their relations to each other. Geognosy is used by the French as synonymous to geology, but in English is generally understood to be synonymous to cosmogony; which is an inquiry, or rather a speculation, as to the original formation or creation of the world; hence geognosy has sometimes been called "speculative geology." In pursuing the examinations to which geology leads, we reason from facts, as is done in other branches of natural science. The strata of the crust of the earth, owing to the disturbed manner in which we now find them, are in a great measure open to our examination; their composition, formation, deposition, eruption, depression, succession, and mineralogical contents, are all objects of sensation. The objects of geognosy (in the English sense of the word) are, on the other hand, for the most part, ideal, visionary and delusive. We are sensible that this earth exists and that it is material, and therefore we know that it must have been created. We know that it was not created by man, who hath not the power to add to it one single atom, nor diminish it by a single grain—so that it is manifest that it was created by a superior and omnipotent power; but by what process it was done is a mystery, and the more we seek to discover it the more we expose our ignorance. The geologist, like the mathematician, deals with the understanding; his advance is wary, admitting no conclusion until his premises are fully established. The professor of geognosy, on the contrary, addresses himself entirely to the imagination, and he delights in hypothesis and suppositions. The progress of the geologist is necessarily slow; he is like the patient miner, making his laborious but determined way into the solid rock: but the professor of geognosy will make a world or even a universe in an hour, for he deals in fancy and works in visionary speculations. The geologist delves into the bowels of the earth in search of useful metals, earths and combustible matters, which nature has kindly placed within his reach, and he strives to turn them to the best advantage in administering to the wants and increasing the comforts and convenience of his fellow creatures; but all the labors of the professor of geognosy are directed to discover a secret which appears to be hidden from human ken; a secret, the discovery of which would not, as far as we can judge, add any thing to the sum of human happiness. It excites our astonishment therefore, that so many persons of fine genius and brilliant talents should have wasted so much time in forming what are called theories of the earth, who might have been so much better employed in investigating the secondary causes by which the materials composing the crust of this earth obtained their present forms, and in examining the changes which those materials are daily undergoing. But so it is; the curiosity so natural to our species opens the way—the vanity of being supposed to have penetrated deeper than others into the abstruse mysteries of nature urges them forward—the silly pride of having in their own estimations discovered the hidden ways of Providence quickens their zeal; and, such is the love of the marvellous, that if they exhibit only a tolerable degree of ingenuity, and embellish their performances with a few flowers of rhetoric, they are sure to command more attention and praise from the general mass of readers, than can be extorted by the most laborious examination of nature's works. While Martin Lister was ridiculed by Doctor King for the laudable minuteness with which he described the different natural objects he met with in his journey through France, Mr. Thomas Burnet, for a fanciful theory of the earth, was extravagantly lauded by a writer in the Spectator. Saussure crossed the Alps in fourteen places; Humboldt traversed nearly one half of the habitable globe; Cuvier spent seven years in the study of comparative anatomy, as subservient to the study of fossil remains; and Hauy studied geometry for the sole purpose of obtaining a knowledge of crystalography; but neither of these distinguished philosophers have been able to win the laurels that have been heaped upon the brow of Count Buffon for a visionary hypothesis which he calls a theory of the earth.
The substitution of these hypotheses for knowledge, unfortunately, has not been confined to the early and dark ages of geology. One entirely new theory of the earth was published as lately as the year 1825—another in 1827—and a third in 1829. It is proper therefore that the student should be warned against their fascinating and baneful influence.