diff options
Diffstat (limited to '1697.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 1697.txt | 7656 |
1 files changed, 7656 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/1697.txt b/1697.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5b44006 --- /dev/null +++ b/1697.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7656 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Madam How and Lady Why, by Charles Kingsley + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Madam How and Lady Why + or, First Lessons in Earth Lore for Children + + +Author: Charles Kingsley + +Release Date: April 19, 2005 [eBook #1697] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MADAM HOW AND LADY WHY*** + + + + + + +Transcribed from the 1889 Macmillan and Co. edition by David Price, email +ccx074@coventry.ac.uk + + + + + +MADAM HOW AND LADY WHY +or, FIRST LESSONS IN EARTH LORE FOR CHILDREN + + + +DEDICATION + + +To my son Grenville Arthur, and to his school-fellows at Winton House +This little book is dedicated. + + + + +PREFACE + + +My dear boys,--When I was your age, there were no such children's books +as there are now. Those which we had were few and dull, and the pictures +in them ugly and mean: while you have your choice of books without +number, clear, amusing, and pretty, as well as really instructive, on +subjects which were only talked of fifty years ago by a few learned men, +and very little understood even by them. So if mere reading of books +would make wise men, you ought to grow up much wiser than us old fellows. +But mere reading of wise books will not make you wise men: you must use +for yourselves the tools with which books are made wise; and that is--your +eyes, and ears, and common sense. + +Now, among those very stupid old-fashioned boys' books was one which +taught me that; and therefore I am more grateful to it than if it had +been as full of wonderful pictures as all the natural history books you +ever saw. Its name was _Evenings at Home_; and in it was a story called +"Eyes and no Eyes;" a regular old-fashioned, prim, sententious story; and +it began thus:-- + +"Well, Robert, where have you been walking this afternoon?" said Mr. +Andrews to one of his pupils at the close of a holiday. + +Oh--Robert had been to Broom Heath, and round by Camp Mount, and home +through the meadows. But it was very dull. He hardly saw a single +person. He had much rather have gone by the turnpike-road. + +Presently in comes Master William, the other pupil, dressed, I suppose, +as wretched boys used to be dressed forty years ago, in a frill collar, +and skeleton monkey-jacket, and tight trousers buttoned over it, and +hardly coming down to his ancles; and low shoes, which always came off in +sticky ground; and terribly dirty and wet he is: but he never (he says) +had such a pleasant walk in his life; and he has brought home his +handkerchief (for boys had no pockets in those days much bigger than key- +holes) full of curiosities. + +He has got a piece of mistletoe, wants to know what it is; and he has +seen a woodpecker, and a wheat-ear, and gathered strange flowers on the +heath; and hunted a peewit because he thought its wing was broken, till +of course it led him into a bog, and very wet he got. But he did not +mind it, because he fell in with an old man cutting turf, who told him +all about turf-cutting, and gave him a dead adder. And then he went up a +hill, and saw a grand prospect; and wanted to go again, and make out the +geography of the country from Cary's old county maps, which were the only +maps in those days. And then, because the hill was called Camp Mount, he +looked for a Roman camp, and found one; and then he went down to the +river, saw twenty things more; and so on, and so on, till he had brought +home curiosities enough, and thoughts enough, to last him a week. + +Whereon Mr. Andrews, who seems to have been a very sensible old +gentleman, tells him all about his curiosities: and then it comes out--if +you will believe it--that Master William has been over the very same +ground as Master Robert, who saw nothing at all. + +Whereon Mr. Andrews says, wisely enough, in his solemn old-fashioned +way,-- + +"So it is. One man walks through the world with his eyes open, another +with his eyes shut; and upon this difference depends all the superiority +of knowledge which one man acquires over another. I have known sailors +who had been in all the quarters of the world, and could tell you nothing +but the signs of the tippling-houses, and the price and quality of the +liquor. On the other hand, Franklin could not cross the Channel without +making observations useful to mankind. While many a vacant thoughtless +youth is whirled through Europe without gaining a single idea worth +crossing the street for, the observing eye and inquiring mind find matter +of improvement and delight in every ramble. You, then, William, continue +to use your eyes. And you, Robert, learn that eyes were given to you to +use." + +So said Mr. Andrews: and so I say, dear boys--and so says he who has the +charge of you--to you. Therefore I beg all good boys among you to think +over this story, and settle in their own minds whether they will be eyes +or no eyes; whether they will, as they grow up, look and see for +themselves what happens: or whether they will let other people look for +them, or pretend to look; and dupe them, and lead them about--the blind +leading the blind, till both fall into the ditch. + +I say "good boys;" not merely clever boys, or prudent boys: because using +your eyes, or not using them, is a question of doing Right or doing +Wrong. God has given you eyes; it is your duty to God to use them. If +your parents tried to teach you your lessons in the most agreeable way, +by beautiful picture-books, would it not be ungracious, ungrateful, and +altogether naughty and wrong, to shut your eyes to those pictures, and +refuse to learn? And is it not altogether naughty and wrong to refuse to +learn from your Father in Heaven, the Great God who made all things, when +he offers to teach you all day long by the most beautiful and most +wonderful of all picture-books, which is simply all things which you can +see, hear, and touch, from the sun and stars above your head to the +mosses and insects at your feet? It is your duty to learn His lessons: +and it is your interest. God's Book, which is the Universe, and the +reading of God's Book, which is Science, can do you nothing but good, and +teach you nothing but truth and wisdom. God did not put this wondrous +world about your young souls to tempt or to mislead them. If you ask Him +for a fish, he will not give you a serpent. If you ask Him for bread, He +will not give you a stone. + +So use your eyes and your intellect, your senses and your brains, and +learn what God is trying to teach you continually by them. I do not mean +that you must stop there, and learn nothing more. Anything but that. +There are things which neither your senses nor your brains can tell you; +and they are not only more glorious, but actually more true and more real +than any things which you can see or touch. But you must begin at the +beginning in order to end at the end, and sow the seed if you wish to +gather the fruit. God has ordained that you, and every child which comes +into the world, should begin by learning something of the world about him +by his senses and his brain; and the better you learn what they can teach +you, the more fit you will be to learn what they cannot teach you. The +more you try now to understand _things_, the more you will be able +hereafter to understand men, and That which is above men. You began to +find out that truly Divine mystery, that you had a mother on earth, +simply by lying soft and warm upon her bosom; and so (as Our Lord told +the Jews of old) it is by watching the common natural things around you, +and considering the lilies of the field, how they grow, that you will +begin at least to learn that far Diviner mystery, that you have a Father +in Heaven. And so you will be delivered (if you will) out of the tyranny +of darkness, and distrust, and fear, into God's free kingdom of light, +and faith, and love; and will be safe from the venom of that tree which +is more deadly than the fabled upas of the East. Who planted that tree I +know not, it was planted so long ago: but surely it is none of God's +planting, neither of the Son of God: yet it grows in all lands and in all +climes, and sends its hidden suckers far and wide, even (unless we be +watchful) into your hearts and mine. And its name is the Tree of +Unreason, whose roots are conceit and ignorance, and its juices folly and +death. It drops its venom into the finest brains; and makes them call +sense, nonsense; and nonsense, sense; fact, fiction; and fiction, fact. +It drops its venom into the tenderest hearts, alas! and makes them call +wrong, right; and right, wrong; love, cruelty; and cruelty, love. Some +say that the axe is laid to the root of it just now, and that it is +already tottering to its fall: while others say that it is growing +stronger than ever, and ready to spread its upas-shade over the whole +earth. For my part, I know not, save that all shall be as God wills. The +tree has been cut down already again and again; and yet has always thrown +out fresh shoots and dropped fresh poison from its boughs. But this at +least I know: that any little child, who will use the faculties God has +given him, may find an antidote to all its poison in the meanest herb +beneath his feet. + +There, you do not understand me, my boys; and the best prayer I can offer +for you is, perhaps, that you should never need to understand me: but if +that sore need should come, and that poison should begin to spread its +mist over your brains and hearts, then you will be proof against it; just +in proportion as you have used the eyes and the common sense which God +has given you, and have considered the lilies of the field, how they +grow. + +C. KINGSLEY. + + + + +CHAPTER I--THE GLEN + + +You find it dull walking up here upon Hartford Bridge Flat this sad +November day? Well, I do not deny that the moor looks somewhat dreary, +though dull it need never be. Though the fog is clinging to the +fir-trees, and creeping among the heather, till you cannot see as far as +Minley Corner, hardly as far as Bramshill woods--and all the Berkshire +hills are as invisible as if it was a dark midnight--yet there is plenty +to be seen here at our very feet. Though there is nothing left for you +to pick, and all the flowers are dead and brown, except here and there a +poor half-withered scrap of bottle-heath, and nothing left for you to +catch either, for the butterflies and insects are all dead too, except +one poor old Daddy-long-legs, who sits upon that piece of turf, boring a +hole with her tail to lay her eggs in, before the frost catches her and +ends her like the rest: though all things, I say, seem dead, yet there is +plenty of life around you, at your feet, I may almost say in the very +stones on which you tread. And though the place itself be dreary enough, +a sheet of flat heather and a little glen in it, with banks of dead fern, +and a brown bog between them, and a few fir-trees struggling up--yet, if +you only have eyes to see it, that little bit of glen is beautiful and +wonderful,--so beautiful and so wonderful and so cunningly devised, that +it took thousands of years to make it; and it is not, I believe, half +finished yet. + +How do I know all that? Because a fairy told it me; a fairy who lives up +here upon the moor, and indeed in most places else, if people have but +eyes to see her. What is her name? I cannot tell. The best name that I +can give her (and I think it must be something like her real name, +because she will always answer if you call her by it patiently and +reverently) is Madam How. She will come in good time, if she is called, +even by a little child. And she will let us see her at her work, and, +what is more, teach us to copy her. But there is another fairy here +likewise, whom we can hardly hope to see. Very thankful should we be if +she lifted even the smallest corner of her veil, and showed us but for a +moment if it were but her finger tip--so beautiful is she, and yet so +awful too. But that sight, I believe, would not make us proud, as if we +had had some great privilege. No, my dear child: it would make us feel +smaller, and meaner, and more stupid and more ignorant than we had ever +felt in our lives before; at the same time it would make us wiser than +ever we were in our lives before--that one glimpse of the great glory of +her whom we call Lady Why. + +But I will say more of her presently. We must talk first with Madam How, +and perhaps she may help us hereafter to see Lady Why. For she is the +servant, and Lady Why is the mistress; though she has a Master over her +again--whose name I leave for you to guess. You have heard it often +already, and you will hear it again, for ever and ever. + +But of one thing I must warn you, that you must not confound Madam How +and Lady Why. Many people do it, and fall into great mistakes +thereby,--mistakes that even a little child, if it would think, need not +commit. But really great philosophers sometimes make this mistake about +Why and How; and therefore it is no wonder if other people make it too, +when they write children's books about the wonders of nature, and call +them "Why and Because," or "The Reason Why." The books are very good +books, and you should read and study them: but they do not tell you +really "Why and Because," but only "How and So." They do not tell you +the "Reason Why" things happen, but only "The Way in which they happen." +However, I must not blame these good folks, for I have made the same +mistake myself often, and may do it again: but all the more shame to me. +For see--you know perfectly the difference between How and Why, when you +are talking about yourself. If I ask you, "Why did we go out to-day?" +You would not answer, "Because we opened the door." That is the answer +to "How did we go out?" The answer to Why did we go out is, "Because we +chose to take a walk." Now when we talk about other things beside +ourselves, we must remember this same difference between How and Why. If +I ask you, "Why does fire burn you?" you would answer, I suppose, being a +little boy, "Because it is hot;" which is all you know about it. But if +you were a great chemist, instead of a little boy, you would be apt to +answer me, I am afraid, "Fire burns because the vibratory motion of the +molecules of the heated substance communicates itself to the molecules of +my skin, and so destroys their tissue;" which is, I dare say, quite true: +but it only tells us how fire burns, the way or means by which it burns; +it does not tell us the reason why it burns. + +But you will ask, "If that is not the reason why fire burns, what is?" My +dear child, I do not know. That is Lady Why's business, who is mistress +of Mrs. How, and of you and of me; and, as I think, of all things that +you ever saw, or can see, or even dream. And what her reason for making +fire burn may be I cannot tell. But I believe on excellent grounds that +her reason is a very good one. If I dare to guess, I should say that one +reason, at least, why fire burns, is that you may take care not to play +with it, and so not only scorch your finger, but set your whole bed on +fire, and perhaps the house into the bargain, as you might be tempted to +do if putting your finger in the fire were as pleasant as putting sugar +in your mouth. + +My dear child, if I could once get clearly into your head this difference +between Why and How, so that you should remember them steadily in after +life, I should have done you more good than if I had given you a thousand +pounds. + +But now that we know that How and Why are two very different matters, and +must not be confounded with each other, let us look for Madam How, and +see her at work making this little glen; for, as I told you, it is not +half made yet. One thing we shall see at once, and see it more and more +clearly the older we grow; I mean her wonderful patience and diligence. +Madam How is never idle for an instant. Nothing is too great or too +small for her; and she keeps her work before her eye in the same moment, +and makes every separate bit of it help every other bit. She will keep +the sun and stars in order, while she looks after poor old Mrs. Daddy- +long-legs there and her eggs. She will spend thousands of years in +building up a mountain, and thousands of years in grinding it down again; +and then carefully polish every grain of sand which falls from that +mountain, and put it in its right place, where it will be wanted +thousands of years hence; and she will take just as much trouble about +that one grain of sand as she did about the whole mountain. She will +settle the exact place where Mrs. Daddy-long-legs shall lay her eggs, at +the very same time that she is settling what shall happen hundreds of +years hence in a stair millions of miles away. And I really believe that +Madam How knows her work so thoroughly, that the grain of sand which +sticks now to your shoe, and the weight of Mrs. Daddy-long-legs' eggs at +the bottom of her hole, will have an effect upon suns and stars ages +after you and I are dead and gone. Most patient indeed is Madam How. She +does not mind the least seeing her own work destroyed; she knows that it +must be destroyed. There is a spell upon her, and a fate, that +everything she makes she must unmake again: and yet, good and wise woman +as she is, she never frets, nor tires, nor fudges her work, as we say at +school. She takes just as much pains to make an acorn as to make a +peach. She takes just as much pains about the acorn which the pig eats, +as about the acorn which will grow into a tall oak, and help to build a +great ship. She took just as much pains, again, about the acorn which +you crushed under your foot just now, and which you fancy will never come +to anything. Madam How is wiser than that. She knows that it will come +to something. She will find some use for it, as she finds a use for +everything. That acorn which you crushed will turn into mould, and that +mould will go to feed the roots of some plant, perhaps next year, if it +lies where it is; or perhaps it will be washed into the brook, and then +into the river, and go down to the sea, and will feed the roots of some +plant in some new continent ages and ages hence: and so Madam How will +have her own again. You dropped your stick into the river yesterday, and +it floated away. You were sorry, because it had cost you a great deal of +trouble to cut it, and peel it, and carve a head and your name on it. +Madam How was not sorry, though she had taken a great deal more trouble +with that stick than ever you had taken. She had been three years making +that stick, out of many things, sunbeams among the rest. But when it +fell into the river, Madam How knew that she should not lose her sunbeams +nor anything else: the stick would float down the river, and on into the +sea; and there, when it got heavy with the salt water, it would sink, and +lodge, and be buried, and perhaps ages hence turn into coal; and ages +after that some one would dig it up and burn it, and then out would come, +as bright warm flame, all the sunbeams that were stored away in that +stick: and so Madam How would have her own again. And if that should not +be the fate of your stick, still something else will happen to it just as +useful in the long run; for Madam How never loses anything, but uses up +all her scraps and odds and ends somehow, somewhere, somewhen, as is fit +and proper for the Housekeeper of the whole Universe. Indeed, Madam How +is so patient that some people fancy her stupid, and think that, because +she does not fall into a passion every time you steal her sweets, or +break her crockery, or disarrange her furniture, therefore she does not +care. But I advise you as a little boy, and still more when you grow up +to be a man, not to get that fancy into your head; for you will find +that, however good-natured and patient Madam How is in most matters, her +keeping silence and not seeming to see you is no sign that she has +forgotten. On the contrary, she bears a grudge (if one may so say, with +all respect to her) longer than any one else does; because she will +always have her own again. Indeed, I sometimes think that if it were not +for Lady Why, her mistress, she might bear some of her grudges for ever +and ever. I have seen men ere now damage some of Madam How's property +when they were little boys, and be punished by her all their lives long, +even though she had mended the broken pieces, or turned them to some +other use. Therefore I say to you, beware of Madam How. She will teach +you more kindly, patiently, and tenderly than any mother, if you want to +learn her trade. But if, instead of learning her trade, you damage her +materials and play with her tools, beware lest she has her own again out +of you. + +Some people think, again, that Madam How is not only stupid, but +ill-tempered and cruel; that she makes earthquakes and storms, and famine +and pestilences, in a sort of blind passion, not caring where they go or +whom they hurt; quite heedless of who is in the way, if she wants to do +anything or go anywhere. Now, that Madam How can be very terrible there +can be no doubt: but there is no doubt also that, if people choose to +learn, she will teach them to get out of her way whenever she has +business to do which is dangerous to them. But as for her being cruel +and unjust, those may believe it who like. You, my dear boys and girls, +need not believe it, if you will only trust to Lady Why; and be sure that +Why is the mistress and How the servant, now and for ever. That Lady Why +is utterly good and kind I know full well; and I believe that, in her +case too, the old proverb holds, "Like mistress, like servant;" and that +the more we know of Madam How, the more we shall be content with her, and +ready to submit to whatever she does: but not with that stupid +resignation which some folks preach who do not believe in lady Why--that +is no resignation at all. That is merely saying-- + + "What can't be cured + Must be endured," + +like a donkey when he turns his tail to a hail-storm,--but the true +resignation, the resignation which is fit for grown people and children +alike, the resignation which is the beginning and the end of all wisdom +and all religion, is to believe that Lady Why knows best, because she +herself is perfectly good; and that as she is mistress over Madam How, so +she has a Master over her, whose name--I say again--I leave you to guess. + +So now that I have taught you not to be afraid of Madam How, we will go +and watch her at her work; and if we do not understand anything we see, +we will ask her questions. She will always show us one of her lesson +books if we give her time. And if we have to wait some time for her +answer, you need not fear catching cold, though it is November; for she +keeps her lesson books scattered about in strange places, and we may have +to walk up and down that hill more than once before we can make out how +she makes the glen. + +Well--how was the glen made? You shall guess it if you like, and I will +guess too. You think, perhaps, that an earthquake opened it? + +My dear child, we must look before we guess. Then, after we have looked +a little, and got some grounds for guessing, then we may guess. And you +have no ground for supposing there ever was an earthquake here strong +enough to open that glen. There may have been one: but we must guess +from what we do know, and not from what we do not. + +Guess again. Perhaps it was there always, from the beginning of the +world? My dear child, you have no proof of that either. Everything +round you is changing in shape daily and hourly, as you will find out the +longer you live; and therefore it is most reasonable to suppose that this +glen has changed its shape, as everything else on earth has done. +Besides, I told you not that Madam How had made the glen, but that she +was making it, and as yet has only half finished. That is my first +guess; and my next guess is that water is making the glen--water, and +nothing else. + +You open your young eyes. And I do not blame you. I looked at this very +glen for fifteen years before I made that guess; and I have looked at it +some ten years since, to make sure that my guess held good. For man +after all is very blind, my dear boy, and very stupid, and cannot see +what lies under his own feet all day long; and if Lady Why, and He whom +Lady Why obeys, were not very patient and gentle with mankind, they would +have perished off the face of the earth long ago, simply from their own +stupidity. I, at least, was very stupid in this case, for I had my head +full of earthquakes, and convulsions of nature, and all sorts of +prodigies which never happened to this glen; and so, while I was trying +to find what was not there, I of course found nothing. But when I put +them all out of my head, and began to look for what was there, I found it +at once; and lo and behold! I had seen it a thousand times before, and +yet never learnt anything from it, like a stupid man as I was; though +what I learnt you may learn as easily as I did. + +And what did I find? + +The pond at the bottom of the glen. + +You know that pond, of course? You don't need to go there? Very well. +Then if you do, do not you know also that the pond is always filling up +with sand and mud; and that though we clean it out every three or four +years, it always fills again? Now where does that sand and mud come +from? + +Down that stream, of course, which runs out of this bog. You see it +coming down every time there is a flood, and the stream fouls. + +Very well. Then, said Madam How to me, as soon as I recollected that, +"Don't you see, you stupid man, that the stream has made the glen, and +the earth which runs down the stream was all once part of the hill on +which you stand." I confess I was very much ashamed of myself when she +said that. For that is the history of the whole mystery. Madam How is +digging away with her soft spade, water. She has a harder spade, or +rather plough, the strongest and most terrible of all ploughs; but that, +I am glad to say, she has laid by in England here. + +Water? But water is too simple a thing to have dug out all this great +glen. + +My dear child, the most wonderful part of Madam How's work is, that she +does such great things and so many different things, with one and the +same tool, which looks to you so simple, though it really is not so. +Water, for instance, is not a simple thing, but most complicated; and we +might spend hours in talking about water, without having come to the end +of its wonders. Still Madam How is a great economist, and never wastes +her materials. She is like the sailor who boasted (only she never +boasts) that, if he had but a long life and a strong knife, he would +build St. Paul's Cathedral before he was done. And Madam How has a very +long life, and plenty of time; and one of the strongest of all her tools +is water. Now if you will stoop down and look into the heather, I will +show you how she is digging out the glen with this very mist which is +hanging about our feet. At least, so I guess. + +For see how the mist clings to the points of the heather leaves, and +makes drops. If the hot sun came out the drops would dry, and they would +vanish into the air in light warm steam. But now that it is dark and +cold they drip, or run down the heather-stems, to the ground. And +whither do they go then? Whither will the water go,--hundreds of gallons +of it perhaps,--which has dripped and run through the heather in this +single day? It will sink into the ground, you know. And then what will +become of it? Madam How will use it as an underground spade, just as she +uses the rain (at least, when it rains too hard, and therefore the rain +runs off the moor instead of sinking into it) as a spade above ground. + +Now come to the edge of the glen, and I will show you the mist that fell +yesterday, perhaps, coming out of the ground again, and hard at work. + +You know of what an odd, and indeed of what a pretty form all these glens +are. How the flat moor ends suddenly in a steep rounded bank, almost +like the crest of a wave--ready like a wave-crest to fall over, and as +you know, falling over sometimes, bit by bit, where the soil is bare. + +Oh, yes; you are very fond of those banks. It is "awfully jolly," as you +say, scrambling up and down them, in the deep heath and fern; besides, +there are plenty of rabbit-holes there, because they are all sand; while +there are no rabbit-holes on the flat above, because it is all gravel. + +Yes; you know all about it: but you know, too, that you must not go too +far down these banks, much less roll down them, because there is almost +certain to be a bog at the bottom, lying upon a gentle slope; and there +you get wet through. + +All round these hills, from here to Aldershot in one direction, and from +here to Windsor in another, you see the same shaped glens; the wave-crest +along their top, and at the foot of the crest a line of springs which run +out over the slopes, or well up through them in deep sand-galls, as you +call them--shaking quagmires which are sometimes deep enough to swallow +up a horse, and which you love to dance upon in summer time. Now the +water of all these springs is nothing but the rain, and mist, and dew, +which has sunk down first through the peaty soil, and then through the +gravel and sand, and there has stopped. And why? Because under the +gravel (about which I will tell you a strange story one day) and under +the sand, which is what the geologists call the Upper Bagshot sand, there +is an entirely different set of beds, which geologists call the +Bracklesham beds, from a place near the New Forest; and in those beds +there is a vein of clay, and through that clay the water cannot get, as +you have seen yourself when we dug it out in the field below to puddle +the pond-head; and very good fun you thought it, and a very pretty mess +you made of yourself. Well: because the water cannot get though this +clay, and must go somewhere, it runs out continually along the top of the +clay, and as it runs undermines the bank, and brings down sand and gravel +continually for the next shower to wash into the stream below. + +Now think for one moment how wonderful it is that the shape of these +glens, of which you are so fond, was settled by the particular order in +which Madam How laid down the gravel and sand and mud at the bottom of +the sea, ages and ages ago. This is what I told you, that the least +thing that Madam How does to-day may take effect hundreds and thousands +of years hence. + +But I must tell you I think there was a time when this glen was of a very +different shape from what it is now; and I dare say, according to your +notions, of a much prettier shape. It was once just like one of those +Chines which we used to see at Bournemouth. You recollect them? How +there was a narrow gap in the cliff of striped sands and gravels; and out +of the mouth of that gap, only a few feet across, there poured down a +great slope of mud and sand the shape of half a bun, some wet and some +dry, up which we used to scramble and get into the Chine, and call the +Chine what it was in the truest sense, Fairyland. You recollect how it +was all eaten out into mountain ranges, pinnacles, steep cliffs of white, +and yellow, and pink, standing up against the clear blue sky; till we +agreed that, putting aside the difference of size, they were as beautiful +and grand as any Alps we had ever seen in pictures. And how we saw (for +there could be no mistake about it there) that the Chine was being +hollowed out by the springs which broke out high up the cliff, and by the +rain which wore the sand into furrowed pinnacles and peaks. You +recollect the beautiful place, and how, when we looked back down it we +saw between the miniature mountain walls the bright blue sea, and heard +it murmur on the sands outside. So I verily believe we might have done, +if we had stood somewhere at the bottom of this glen thousands of years +ago. We should have seen the sea in front of us; or rather, an arm of +the sea; for Finchampstead ridges opposite, instead of being covered with +farms, and woodlands, and purple heath above, would have been steep +cliffs of sand and clay, just like those you see at Bournemouth now; +and--what would have spoilt somewhat the beauty of the sight--along the +shores there would have floated, at least in winter, great blocks and +floes of ice, such as you might have seen in the tideway at King's Lynn +the winter before last, growling and crashing, grubbing and ploughing the +sand, and the gravel, and the mud, and sweeping them away into seas +towards the North, which are now all fruitful land. That may seem to you +like a dream: yet it is true; and some day, when we have another talk +with Madam How, I will show even a child like you that it was true. + +But what could change a beautiful Chine like that at Bournemouth into a +wide sloping glen like this of Bracknell's Bottom, with a wood like +Coombs', many acres large, in the middle of it? Well now, think. It is +a capital plan for finding out Madam How's secrets, to see what she might +do in one place, and explain by it what she has done in another. Suppose +now, Madam How had orders to lift up the whole coast of Bournemouth only +twenty or even ten feet higher out of the sea than it is now. She could +do that easily enough, for she has been doing so on the coast of South +America for ages; she has been doing so this very summer in what hasty +people would call a hasty, and violent, and ruthless way; though I shall +not say so, for I believe that Lady Why knows best. She is doing so now +steadily on the west coast of Norway, which is rising quietly--all that +vast range of mountain wall and iron-bound cliff--at the rate of some +four feet in a hundred years, without making the least noise or +confusion, or even causing an extra ripple on the sea; so light and +gentle, when she will, can Madam How's strong finger be. + +Now, if the mouth of that Chine at Bournemouth was lifted twenty feet out +of the sea, one thing would happen,--that the high tide would not come up +any longer, and wash away the cake of dirt at the entrance, as we saw it +do so often. But if the mud stopped there, the mud behind it would come +down more slowly, and lodge inside more and more, till the Chine was half +filled-up, and only the upper part of the cliffs continue to be eaten +away, above the level where the springs ran out. So gradually the Chine, +instead of being deep and narrow, would become broad and shallow; and +instead of hollowing itself rapidly after every shower of rain, as you +saw the Chine at Bournemouth doing, would hollow itself out slowly, as +this glen is doing now. And one thing more would happen,--when the sea +ceased to gnaw at the foot of the cliffs outside, and to carry away every +stone and grain of sand which fell from them, the cliffs would very soon +cease to be cliffs; the rain and the frost would still crumble them down, +but the dirt that fell would lie at their feet, and gradually make a +slope of dry land, far out where the shallow sea had been; and their +tops, instead of being steep as now, would become smooth and rounded; and +so at last, instead of two sharp walls of cliff at the Chine's mouth, you +might have--just what you have here at the mouth of this glen,--our Mount +and the Warren Hill,--long slopes with sheets of drifted gravel and sand +at their feet, stretching down into what was once an icy sea, and is now +the Vale of Blackwater. And this I really believe Madam How has done +simply by lifting Hartford Bridge Flat a few more feet out of the sea, +and leaving the rest to her trusty tool, the water in the sky. + +That is my guess: and I think it is a good guess, because I have asked +Madam How a hundred different questions about it in the last ten years, +and she always answered them in the same way, saying, "Water, water, you +stupid man." But I do not want you merely to depend on what I say. If +you want to understand Madam How, you must ask her questions yourself, +and make up your mind yourself like a man, instead of taking things at +hearsay or second-hand, like the vulgar. Mind, by "the vulgar" I do not +mean poor people: I mean ignorant and uneducated people, who do not use +their brains rightly, though they may be fine ladies, kings, or popes. +The Bible says, "Prove all things: hold fast that which is good." So do +you prove my guess, and if it proves good, hold it fast. + +And how can I do that? + +First, by direct experiment, as it is called. In plain English--go home +and make a little Hartford Bridge Flat in the stable-yard; and then ask +Mrs. How if she will not make a glen in it like this glen here. We will +go home and try that. We will make a great flat cake of clay, and put +upon it a cap of sand; and then we will rain upon it out of a watering- +pot; and see if Mrs. How does not begin soon to make a glen in the side +of the heap, just like those on Hartford Bridge Flat. I believe she +will; and certainly, if she does, it will be a fresh proof that my guess +is right. And then we will see whether water will not make glens of a +different shape than these, if it run over soils of a different kind. We +will make a Hartford Bridge Flat turned upside down--a cake of sand with +a cap of clay on the top; and we will rain on that out of our watering- +pot, and see what sort of glens we make then. I can guess what they will +be like, because I have seen them--steep overhanging cliffs, with very +narrow gullies down them: but you shall try for yourself, and make up +your mind whether you think me right or wrong. Meanwhile, remember that +those gullies too will have been made by water. + +And there is another way of "verifying my theory," as it is called; in +plain English, seeing if my guess holds good; that is, to look at other +valleys--not merely the valleys round here, but valleys in clay, in +chalk, in limestone, in the hard slate rock such as you saw in +Devonshire--and see whether my guess does not hold good about them too; +whether all of them, deep or shallow, broad or narrow, rock or earth, may +not have been all hollowed out by running water. I am sure if you would +do this you would find something to amuse you, and something to instruct +you, whenever you wish. I know that I do. To me the longest railroad +journey, instead of being stupid, is like continually turning over the +leaves of a wonderful book, or looking at wonderful pictures of old +worlds which were made and unmade thousands of years ago. For I keep +looking, not only at the railway cuttings, where the bones of the old +worlds are laid bare, but at the surface of the ground; at the plains and +downs, banks and knolls, hills and mountains; and continually asking Mrs. +How what gave them each its shape: and I will soon teach you to do the +same. When you do, I tell you fairly her answer will be in almost every +case, "Running water." Either water running when soft, as it usually is; +or water running when it is hard--in plain words, moving ice. + +About that moving ice, which is Mrs. How's stronger spade, I will tell +you some other time; and show you, too, the marks of it in every gravel +pit about here. But now, I see, you want to ask a question; and what is +it? + +Do I mean to say that water has made great valleys, such as you have seen +paintings and photographs of,--valleys thousands of feet deep, among +mountains thousands of feet high? + +Yes, I do. But, as I said before, I do not like you to take my word upon +trust. When you are older you shall go to the mountains, and you shall +judge for yourself. Still, I must say that I never saw a valley, however +deep, or a cliff, however high, which had not been scooped out by water; +and that even the mountain-tops which stand up miles aloft in jagged +peaks and pinnacles against the sky were cut out at first, and are being +cut and sharpened still, by little else save water, soft and hard; that +is, by rain, frost, and ice. + +Water, and nothing else, has sawn out such a chasm as that through which +the ships run up to Bristol, between Leigh Wood and St. Vincent's Rocks. +Water, and nothing else, has shaped those peaks of the Matterhorn, or the +Weisshorn, or the Pic du Midi of the Pyrenees, of which you have seen +sketches and photographs. Just so water might saw out Hartford Bridge +Flat, if it had time enough, into a labyrinth of valleys, and hills, and +peaks standing alone; as it has done already by Ambarrow, and Edgbarrow, +and the Folly Hill on the other side of the vale. + +I see you are astonished at the notion that water can make Alps. But it +was just because I knew you would be astonished at Madam How's doing so +great a thing with so simple a tool, that I began by showing you how she +was doing the same thing in a small way here upon these flats. For the +safest way to learn Madam How's methods is to watch her at work in little +corners at commonplace business, which will not astonish or frighten us, +nor put huge hasty guesses and dreams into our heads. Sir Isaac Newton, +some will tell you, found out the great law of gravitation, which holds +true of all the suns and stars in heaven, by watching an apple fall: and +even if he did not find it out so, he found it out, we know, by careful +thinking over the plain and commonplace fact, that things have weight. So +do you be humble and patient, and watch Madam How at work on little +things. For that is the way to see her at work upon all space and time. + +What? you have a question more to ask? + +Oh! I talked about Madam How lifting up Hartford Bridge Flat. How could +she do that? My dear child, that is a long story, and I must tell it you +some other time. Meanwhile, did you ever see the lid of a kettle rise up +and shake when the water inside boiled? Of course; and of course, too, +remember that Madam How must have done it. Then think over between this +and our next talk, what that can possibly have to do with her lifting up +Hartford Bridge Flat. But you have been longing, perhaps, all this time +to hear more about Lady Why, and why she set Madam How to make +Bracknell's Bottom. + +My dear child, the only answer I dare give to that is: Whatever other +purposes she may have made it for, she made it at least for this--that +you and I should come to it this day, and look at, and talk over it, and +become thereby wiser and more earnest, and we will hope more humble and +better people. Whatever else Lady Why may wish or not wish, this she +wishes always, to make all men wise and all men good. For what is +written of her whom, as in a parable, I have called Lady Why? + +"The Lord possessed me in the beginning of His way, before His works of +old. + +"I was set up from everlasting, from the beginning, or ever the earth +was. + +"When there were no depths, I was brought forth; when there were no +fountains abounding with water. + +"Before the mountains were settled, before the hills was I brought forth: + +"While as yet He had not made the earth, nor the fields, nor the highest +part of the dust of the world. + +"When He prepared the heavens, I was there: when He set a compass upon +the face of the depth: + +"When He established the clouds above: when He strengthened the fountains +of the deep: + +"When He gave to the sea His decree, that the waters should not pass His +commandment: when He appointed the foundations of the earth: + +"Then I was by Him, as one brought up with Him: and I was daily His +delight, rejoicing always before Him: + +"Rejoicing in the habitable part of His earth; and my delights were with +the sons of men. + +"Now therefore hearken unto me, O ye children: for blessed are they that +keep my ways." + +That we can say, for it has been said for us already. But beyond that we +can say, and need say, very little. We were not there, as we read in the +Book of Job, when God laid the foundations of the earth. "We see," says +St. Paul, "as in a glass darkly, and only know in part." "For who," he +asks again, "has known the mind of the Lord, or who hath been His +counsellor? . . . For of Him, and through Him, and to Him, are all +things: to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen." Therefore we must +not rashly say, this or that is Why a thing has happened; nor invent what +are called "final causes," which are not Lady Why herself, but only our +little notions of what Lady Why has done, or rather what we should have +done if we had been in her place. It is not, indeed, by thinking that we +shall find out anything about Lady Why. She speaks not to our eyes or to +our brains, like Madam How, but to that inner part of us which we call +our hearts and spirits, and which will endure when eyes and brain are +turned again to dust. If your heart be pure and sober, gentle and +truthful, then Lady Why speaks to you without words, and tells you things +which Madam How and all her pupils, the men of science, can never tell. +When you lie, it may be, on a painful sick-bed, but with your mother's +hand in yours; when you sit by her, looking up into her loving eyes; when +you gaze out towards the setting sun, and fancy golden capes and islands +in the clouds, and seas and lakes in the blue sky, and the infinite rest +and peace of the far west sends rest and peace into your young heart, +till you sit silent and happy, you know not why; when sweet music fills +your heart with noble and tender instincts which need no thoughts or +words; ay, even when you watch the raging thunderstorm, and feel it to +be, in spite of its great awfulness, so beautiful that you cannot turn +your eyes away: at such times as these Lady Why is speaking to your soul +of souls, and saying, "My child, this world is a new place, and strange, +and often terrible: but be not afraid. All will come right at last. Rest +will conquer Restlessness; Faith will conquer Fear; Order will conquer +Disorder; Health will conquer Sickness; Joy will conquer Sorrow; Pleasure +will conquer Pain; Life will conquer Death; Right will conquer Wrong. All +will be well at last. Keep your soul and body pure, humble, busy, +pious--in one word, be good: and ere you die, or after you die, you may +have some glimpse of Me, the Everlasting Why: and hear with the ears, not +of your body but of your spirit, men and all rational beings, plants and +animals, ay, the very stones beneath your feet, the clouds above your +head, the planets and the suns away in farthest space, singing eternally, + +"'Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and honour and power, for +Thou hast created all things, and for Thy pleasure they are and were +created."' + + + + +CHAPTER II--EARTHQUAKES + + +So? You have been looking at that beautiful drawing of the ruin of Arica +in the _Illustrated London News_: and it has puzzled you and made you +sad. You want to know why God killed all those people--mothers among +them, too, and little children? + +Alas, my dear child! who am I that I should answer you that? + +Have you done wrong in asking me? No, my dear child; no. You have asked +me because you are a human being and a child of God, and not merely a +cleverer sort of animal, an ape who can read and write and cast accounts. +Therefore it is that you cannot be content, and ought not to be content, +with asking how things happen, but must go on to ask why. You cannot be +content with knowing the causes of things; and if you knew all the +natural science that ever was or ever will be known to men, that would +not satisfy you; for it would only tell you the _causes_ of things, while +your souls want to know the _reasons_ of things besides; and though I may +not be able to tell you the reasons of things, or show you aught but a +tiny glimpse here and there of that which I called the other day the +glory of Lady Why, yet I believe that somehow, somewhen, somewhere, you +will learn something of the reason of things. For that thirst to know +_why_ was put into the hearts of little children by God Himself; and I +believe that God would never have given them that thirst if He had not +meant to satisfy it. + +There--you do not understand me. I trust that you will understand me +some day. Meanwhile, I think--I only say I _think_--you know I told you +how humble we must be whenever we speak of Lady Why--that we may guess at +something like a good reason for the terrible earthquakes in South +America. I do not wish to be hard upon poor people in great affliction: +but I cannot help thinking that they have been doing for hundreds of +years past something very like what the Bible calls "tempting +God"--staking their property and their lives upon the chances of no +earthquakes coming, while they ought to have known that an earthquake +might come any day. They have fulfilled (and little thought I that it +would be fulfilled so soon) the parable that I told you once, of the +nation of the Do-as-you-likes, who lived careless and happy at the foot +of the burning mountain, and would not be warned by the smoke that came +out of the top, or by the slag and cinders which lay all about them; till +the mountain blew up, and destroyed them miserably. + +Then I think that they ought to have expected an earthquake. + +Well--it is not for us to judge any one, especially if they live in a +part of the world in which we have not been ourselves. But I think that +we know, and that they ought to have known, enough about earthquakes to +have been more prudent than they have been for many a year. At least we +will hope that, though they would not learn their lesson till this year, +they will learn it now, and will listen to the message which I think +Madam How has brought them, spoken in a voice of thunder, and written in +letters of flame. + +And what is that? + +My dear child, if the landlord of our house was in the habit of pulling +the roof down upon our heads, and putting gunpowder under the foundations +to blow us up, do you not think we should know what he meant, even though +he never spoke a word? He would be very wrong in behaving so, of course: +but one thing would be certain,--that he did not intend us to live in his +house any longer if he could help it; and was giving us, in a very rough +fashion, notice to quit. And so it seems to me that these poor Spanish +Americans have received from the Landlord of all landlords, who can do no +wrong, such a notice to quit as perhaps no people ever had before; which +says to them in unmistakable words, "You must leave this country: or +perish." And I believe that that message, like all Lady Why's messages, +is at heart a merciful and loving one; that if these Spaniards would +leave the western coast of Peru, and cross the Andes into the green +forests of the eastern side of their own land, they might not only live +free from earthquakes, but (if they would only be good and industrious) +become a great, rich, and happy nation, instead of the idle, and useless, +and I am afraid not over good, people which they have been. For in that +eastern part of their own land God's gifts are waiting for them, in a +paradise such as I can neither describe nor you conceive;--precious +woods, fruits, drugs, and what not--boundless wealth, in one word--waiting +for them to send it all down the waters of the mighty river Amazon, +enriching us here in the Old World, and enriching themselves there in the +New. If they would only go and use these gifts of God, instead of +neglecting them as they have been doing for now three hundred years, they +would be a blessing to the earth, instead of being--that which they have +been. + +God grant, my dear child, that these poor people may take the warning +that has been sent to them; "The voice of God revealed in facts," as the +great Lord Bacon would have called it, and see not only that God has +bidden them leave the place where they are now, but has prepared for +them, in their own land, a home a thousand times better than that in +which they now live. + +But you ask, How ought they to have known that an earthquake would come? + +Well, to make you understand that, we must talk a little about +earthquakes, and what makes them; and in order to find out that, let us +try the very simplest cause of which we can think. That is the wise and +scientific plan. + +Now, whatever makes these earthquakes must be enormously strong; that is +certain. And what is the strongest thing you know of in the world? Think +. . . + +Gunpowder? + +Well, gunpowder is strong sometimes: but not always. You may carry it in +a flask, or in your hand, and then it is weak enough. It only becomes +strong by being turned into gas and steam. But steam is always strong. +And if you look at a railway engine, still more if you had ever +seen--which God forbid you should--a boiler explosion, you would agree +with me, that the strongest thing we know of in the world is steam. + +Now I think that we can explain almost, if not quite, all that we know +about earthquakes, if we believe that on the whole they are caused by +steam and other gases expanding, that is, spreading out, with wonderful +quickness and strength. Of course there must be something to make them +expand, and that is _heat_. But we will not talk of that yet. + +Now do you remember that riddle which I put to you the other day?--"What +had the rattling of the lid of the kettle to do with Hartford Bridge Flat +being lifted out of the ancient sea?" + +The answer to the riddle, I believe, is--Steam has done both. The lid of +the kettle rattles, because the expanding steam escapes in little jets, +and so causes a _lid-quake_. Now suppose that there was steam under the +earth trying to escape, and the earth in one place was loose and yet +hard, as the lid of the kettle is loose and yet hard, with cracks in it, +it may be, like the crack between the edge of the lid and the edge of the +kettle itself: might not the steam try to escape through the cracks, and +rattle the surface of the earth, and so cause an _earthquake_? + +So the steam would escape generally easily, and would only make a passing +rattle, like the earthquake of which the famous jester Charles Selwyn +said that it was quite a young one, so tame that you might have stroked +it; like that which I myself once felt in the Pyrenees, which gave me +very solemn thoughts after a while, though at first I did nothing but +laugh at it; and I will tell you why. + +I was travelling in the Pyrenees; and I came one evening to the loveliest +spot--a glen, or rather a vast crack in the mountains, so narrow that +there was no room for anything at the bottom of it, save a torrent +roaring between walls of polished rock. High above the torrent the road +was cut out among the cliffs, and above the road rose more cliffs, with +great black cavern mouths, hundreds of feet above our heads, out of each +of which poured in foaming waterfalls streams large enough to turn a +mill, and above them mountains piled on mountains, all covered with woods +of box, which smelt rich and hot and musky in the warm spring air. Among +the box-trees and fallen boulders grew hepaticas, blue and white and red, +such as you see in the garden; and little stars of gentian, more azure +than the azure sky. But out of the box-woods above rose giant silver +firs, clothing the cliffs and glens with tall black spires, till they +stood out at last in a jagged saw-edge against the purple evening sky, +along the mountain ranges, thousands of feet aloft; and beyond them +again, at the head of the valley, rose vast cones of virgin snow, miles +away in reality, but looking so brilliant and so near that one fancied at +the first moment that one could have touched them with one's hand. Snow- +white they stood, the glorious things, seven thousand feet into the air; +and I watched their beautiful white sides turn rose-colour in the evening +sun, and when he set, fade into dull cold gray, till the bright moon came +out to light them up once more. When I was tired of wondering and +admiring, I went into bed; and there I had a dream--such a dream as Alice +had when she went into Wonderland--such a dream as I dare say you may +have had ere now. Some noise or stir puts into your fancy as you sleep a +whole long dream to account for it; and yet that dream, which seems to +you to be hours long, has not taken up a second of time; for the very +same noise which begins the dream, wakes you at the end of it: and so it +was with me. I dreamed that some English people had come into the hotel +where I was, and were sleeping in the room underneath me; and that they +had quarrelled and fought, and broke their bed down with a tremendous +crash, and that I must get up, and stop the fight; and at that moment I +woke and heard coming up the valley from the north such a roar as I never +heard before or since; as if a hundred railway trains were rolling +underground; and just as it passed under my bed there was a tremendous +thump, and I jumped out of bed quicker than I ever did in my life, and +heard the roaring sound die away as it rolled up the valley towards the +peaks of snow. Still I had in my head this notion of the Englishmen +fighting in the room below. But then I recollected that no Englishmen +had come in the night before, and that I had been in the room below, and +that there was no bed in it. Then I opened my window--a woman screamed, +a dog barked, some cocks and hens cackled in a very disturbed humour, and +then I could hear nothing but the roaring of the torrent a hundred feet +below. And then it flashed across me what all the noise was about; and I +burst out laughing and said "It is only an earthquake," and went to bed + +Next morning I inquired whether any one had heard a noise. No, nobody +had heard anything. And the driver who had brought me up the valley only +winked, but did not choose to speak. At last at breakfast I asked the +pretty little maid who waited what was the meaning of the noise I heard +in the night, and she answered, to my intense amusement, "Ah! bah! ce +n'etait qu'un tremblement de terre; il y en a ici toutes les six +semaines." Now the secret was out. The little maid, I found, came from +the lowland far away, and did not mind telling the truth: but the good +people of the place were afraid to let out that they had earthquakes +every six weeks, for fear of frightening visitors away: and because they +were really very good people, and very kind to me, I shall not tell you +what the name of the place is. + +Of course after that I could do no less than ask Madam How, very civilly, +how she made earthquakes in that particular place, hundreds of miles away +from any burning mountain? And this was the answer I _thought_ she gave, +though I am not so conceited as to say I am sure. + +As I had come up the valley I had seen that the cliffs were all beautiful +gray limestone marble; but just at this place they were replaced by +granite, such as you may see in London Bridge or at Aberdeen. I do not +mean that the limestone changed to granite, but that the granite had +risen up out of the bottom of the valley, and had carried the limestone +(I suppose) up on its back hundreds of feet into the air. Those caves +with the waterfalls pouring from their mouths were all on one level, at +the top of the granite, and the bottom of the limestone. That was to be +expected; for, as I will explain to you some day, water can make caves +easily in limestone: but never, I think, in granite. But I knew that +besides these cold springs which came out of the caves, there were hot +springs also, full of curious chemical salts, just below the very house +where I was in. And when I went to look at them, I found that they came +out of the rock just where the limestone and the granite joined. "Ah," I +said, "now I think I have Madam How's answer. The lid of one of her +great steam boilers is rather shaky and cracked just here, because the +granite has broken and torn the limestone as it lifted it up; and here is +the hot water out of the boiler actually oozing out of the crack; and the +earthquake I heard last night was simply the steam rumbling and thumping +inside, and trying to get out." + +And then, my dear child, I fell into a more serious mood. I said to +myself, "If that stream had been a little, only a little stronger, or if +the rock above it had been only a little weaker, it would have been no +laughing matter then; the village might have been shaken to the ground; +the rocks hurled into the torrent; jets of steam and of hot water, mixed, +it may be, with deadly gases, have roared out of the riven ground; that +might have happened here, in short, which has happened and happens still +in a hundred places in the world, whenever the rocks are too weak to +stand the pressure of the steam below, and the solid earth bursts as an +engine boiler bursts when the steam within it is too strong." And when +those thoughts came into my mind, I was in no humour to jest any more +about "young earthquakes," or "Madam How's boilers;" but rather to say +with the wise man of old, "It is of the Lord's mercies that we are not +consumed." + +Most strange, most terrible also, are the tricks which this underground +steam plays. It will make the ground, which seems to us so hard and +firm, roll and rock in waves, till people are sea-sick, as on board a +ship; and that rocking motion (which is the most common) will often, when +it is but slight, set the bells ringing in the steeples, or make the +furniture, and things on shelves, jump about quaintly enough. It will +make trees bend to and fro, as if a wind was blowing through them; open +doors suddenly, and shut them again with a slam; make the timbers of the +floors and roofs creak, as they do in a ship at sea; or give men such +frights as one of the dock-keepers at Liverpool got in the earthquake in +1863, when his watchbox rocked so, that he thought some one was going to +pitch him over into the dock. But these are only little hints and +warnings of what it can do. When it is strong enough, it will rock down +houses and churches into heaps of ruins, or, if it leaves them standing, +crack them from top to bottom, so that they must be pulled down and +rebuilt. + +You saw those pictures of the ruins of Arica, about which our talk began; +and from them you can guess well enough for yourself what a town looks +like which has been ruined by an earthquake. Of the misery and the +horror which follow such a ruin I will not talk to you, nor darken your +young spirit with sad thoughts which grown people must face, and ought to +face. But the strangeness of some of the tricks which the earthquake +shocks play is hardly to be explained, even by scientific men. Sometimes, +it would seem, the force runs round, making the solid ground eddy, as +water eddies in a brook. For it will make straight rows of trees +crooked; it will twist whole walls round--or rather the ground on which +the walls stand--without throwing them down; it will shift the stones of +a pillar one on the other sideways, as if a giant had been trying to spin +it like a teetotum, and so screwed it half in pieces. There is a story +told by a wise man, who saw the place himself, of the whole furniture of +one house being hurled away by an earthquake, and buried under the ruins +of another house; and of things carried hundreds of yards off, so that +the neighbours went to law to settle who was the true owner of them. +Sometimes, again, the shock seems to come neither horizontally in waves, +nor circularly in eddies, but vertically, that is, straight up from +below; and then things--and people, alas! sometimes--are thrown up off +the earth high into the air, just as things spring up off the table if +you strike it smartly enough underneath. By that same law (for there is +a law for every sort of motion) it is that the earthquake shock sometimes +hurls great rocks off a cliff into the valley below. The shock runs +through the mountain till it comes to the cliff at the end of it; and +then the face of the cliff, if it be at all loose, flies off into the +air. You may see the very same thing happen, if you will put marbles or +billiard-balls in a row touching each other, and strike the one nearest +you smartly in the line of the row. All the balls stand still, except +the last one, and that flies off. The shock, like the earthquake shock, +has run through them all; but only the end one, which had nothing beyond +it but soft air, has been moved; and when you grow old, and learn +mathematics, you will know the law of motion according to which that +happens, and learn to apply what the billiard-balls have taught you, to +explain the wonders of an earthquake. For in this case, as in so many +more, you must watch Madam How at work on little and common things, to +find out how she works in great and rare ones. That is why Solomon says +that "a fool's eyes are in the ends of the earth," because he is always +looking out for strange things which he has not seen, and which he could +not understand if he saw; instead of looking at the petty commonplace +matters which are about his feet all day long, and getting from them +sound knowledge, and the art of getting more sound knowledge still. + +Another terrible destruction which the earthquake brings, when it is +close to the seaside, is the wash of a great sea wave, such as swept in +last year upon the island of St. Thomas, in the West Indies; such as +swept in upon the coast of Peru this year. The sea moans, and sinks +back, leaving the shore dry; and then comes in from the offing a mighty +wall of water, as high as, or higher than, many a tall house; sweeps far +inland, washing away quays and houses, and carrying great ships in with +it; and then sweeps back again, leaving the ships high and dry, as ships +were left in Peru this year. + +Now, how is that wave made? Let us think. Perhaps in many ways. But +two of them I will tell you as simply as I can, because they seem the +most likely, and probably the most common. + +Suppose, as the earthquake shock ran on, making the earth under the sea +heave and fall in long earth-waves, the sea-bottom sank down. Then the +water on it would sink down too, and leave the shore dry; till the sea- +bottom rose again, and hurled the water up again against the land. This +is one way of explaining it, and it may be true. For certain it is, that +earthquakes do move the bottom of the sea; and certain, too, that they +move the water of the sea also, and with tremendous force. For ships at +sea during an earthquake feel such a blow from it (though it does them no +harm) that the sailors often rush upon deck fancying that they have +struck upon a rock; and the force which could give a ship, floating in +water, such a blow as that, would be strong enough to hurl thousands of +tons of water up the beach, and on to the land. + +But there is another way of accounting for this great sea wave, which I +fancy comes true sometimes. + +Suppose you put an empty india-rubber ball into water, and then blow into +it through a pipe. Of course, you know, as the ball filled, the upper +side of it would rise out of the water. Now, suppose there were a party +of little ants moving about upon that ball, and fancying it a great +island, or perhaps the whole world--what would they think of the ball's +filling and growing bigger? + +If they could see the sides of the basin or tub in which the ball was, +and were sure that they did not move, then they would soon judge by them +that they themselves were moving, and that the ball was rising out of the +water. But if the ants were so short-sighted that they could not see the +sides of the basin, they would be apt to make a mistake, because they +would then be like men on an island out of sight of any other land. Then +it would be impossible further to tell whether they were moving up, or +whether the water was moving down; whether their ball was rising out of +the water, or the water was sinking away from the ball. They would +probably say, "The water is sinking and leaving the ball dry." + +Do you understand that? Then think what would happen if you pricked a +hole in the ball. The air inside would come hissing out, and the ball +would sink again into the water. But the ants would probably fancy the +very opposite. Their little heads would be full of the notion that the +ball was solid and could not move, just as our heads are full of the +notion that the earth is solid and cannot move; and they would say, "Ah! +here is the water rising again." Just so, I believe, when the sea seems +to ebb away during the earthquake, the land is really being raised out of +the sea, hundreds of miles of coast, perhaps, or a whole island, at once, +by the force of the steam and gas imprisoned under the ground. That +steam stretches and strains the solid rocks below, till they can bear no +more, and snap, and crack, with frightful roar and clang; then out of +holes and chasms in the ground rush steam, gases--often foul and +poisonous ones--hot water, mud, flame, strange stones--all signs that the +great boiler down below has burst at last. + +Then the strain is eased. The earth sinks together again, as the ball +did when it was pricked; and sinks lower, perhaps, than it was before: +and back rushes the sea, which the earth had thrust away while it rose, +and sweeps in, destroying all before it. + +Of course, there is a great deal more to be said about all this: but I +have no time to tell you now. You will read it, I hope, for yourselves +when you grow up, in the writings of far wiser men than I. Or perhaps +you may feel for yourselves in foreign lands the actual shock of a great +earthquake, or see its work fresh done around you. And if ever that +happens, and you be preserved during the danger, you will learn for +yourself, I trust, more about earthquakes than I can teach you, if you +will only bear in mind the simple general rules for understanding the +"how" of them which I have given you here. + +But you do not seem satisfied yet? What is it that you want to know? + +Oh! There was an earthquake here in England the other night, while you +were asleep; and that seems to you too near to be pleasant. Will there +ever be earthquakes in England which will throw houses down, and bury +people in the ruins? + +My dear child, I think you may set your heart at rest upon that point. As +far as the history of England goes back, and that is more than a thousand +years, there is no account of any earthquake which has done any serious +damage, or killed, I believe, a single human being. The little +earthquakes which are sometimes felt in England run generally up one line +of country, from Devonshire through Wales, and up the Severn valley into +Cheshire and Lancashire, and the south-west of Scotland; and they are +felt more smartly there, I believe, because the rocks are harder there +than here, and more tossed about by earthquakes which happened ages and +ages ago, long before man lived on the earth. I will show you the work +of these earthquakes some day, in the tilting and twisting of the layers +of rock, and in the cracks (faults, as they are called) which run through +them in different directions. I showed you some once, if you recollect, +in the chalk cliff at Ramsgate--two set of cracks, sloping opposite ways, +which I told you were made by two separate sets of earthquakes, long, +long ago, perhaps while the chalk was still at the bottom of a deep sea. +But even in the rocky parts of England the earthquake-force seems to have +all but died out. Perhaps the crust of the earth has become too thick +and solid there to be much shaken by the gases and steam below. In this +eastern part of England, meanwhile, there is but little chance that an +earthquake will ever do much harm, because the ground here, for thousands +of feet down, is not hard and rocky, but soft--sands, clays, chalk, and +sands again; clays, soft limestones, and clays again--which all act as +buffers to deaden the earthquake shocks, and deaden too the earthquake +noise. + +And how? + +Put your ear to one end of a soft bolster, and let some one hit the other +end. You will hear hardly any noise, and will not feel the blow at all. +Put your ear to one end of a hard piece of wood, and let some one hit the +other. You will hear a smart tap; and perhaps feel a smart tap, too. +When you are older, and learn the laws of sound, and of motion among the +particles of bodies, you will know why. Meanwhile you may comfort +yourself with the thought that Madam How has (doubtless by command of +Lady Why) prepared a safe soft bed for this good people of Britain--not +that they may lie and sleep on it, but work and till, plant and build and +manufacture, and thrive in peace and comfort, we will trust and pray, for +many a hundred years to come. All that the steam inside the earth is +likely to do to us, is to raise parts of this island (as Hartford Bridge +Flats were raised, ages ago, out of the old icy sea) so slowly, probably, +that no man can tell whether they are rising or not. Or again, the steam- +power may be even now dying out under our island, and letting parts of it +sink slowly into the sea, as some wise friends of mine think that the +fens in Norfolk and Cambridgeshire are sinking now. I have shown you +where that kind of work has gone on in Norfolk; how the brow of +Sandringham Hill was once a sea-cliff, and Dersingham Bog at its foot a +shallow sea; and therefore that the land has risen there. How, again, at +Hunstanton Station there is a beach of sea-shells twenty feet above high- +water mark, showing that the land has risen there likewise. And how, +farther north again, at Brancaster, there are forests of oak, and fir, +and alder, with their roots still in the soil, far below high-water mark, +and only uncovered at low tide; which is a plain sign that there the land +has sunk. You surely recollect the sunken forest at Brancaster, and the +beautiful shells we picked up in its gullies, and the millions of live +Pholases boring into the clay and peat which once was firm dry land, fed +over by giant oxen, and giant stags likewise, and perhaps by the mammoth +himself, the great woolly elephant whose teeth the fishermen dredge up in +the sea outside? You recollect that? Then remember that as that Norfolk +shore has changed, so slowly but surely is the whole world changing +around us. Hartford Bridge Flat here, for instance, how has it changed! +Ages ago it was the gravelly bottom of a sea. Then the steam-power +underground raised it up slowly, through long ages, till it became dry +land. And ages hence, perhaps, it will have become a sea-bottom once +more. Washed slowly by the rain, or sunk by the dying out of the steam- +power underground, it will go down again to the place from whence it +came. Seas will roll where we stand now, and new lands will rise where +seas now roll. For all things on this earth, from the tiniest flower to +the tallest mountain, change and change all day long. Every atom of +matter moves perpetually; and nothing "continues in one stay." The solid- +seeming earth on which you stand is but a heaving bubble, bursting ever +and anon in this place and in that. Only above all, and through all, and +with all, is One who does not move nor change, but is the same yesterday, +to-day, and for ever. And on Him, my child, and not on this bubble of an +earth, do you and I, and all mankind, depend. + +But I have not yet told you why the Peruvians ought to have expected an +earthquake. True. I will tell you another time. + + + + +CHAPTER III--VOLCANOS + + +You want to know why the Spaniards in Peru and Ecuador should have +expected an earthquake. + +Because they had had so many already. The shaking of the ground in their +country had gone on perpetually, till they had almost ceased to care +about it, always hoping that no very heavy shock would come; and being, +now and then, terribly mistaken. + +For instance, in the province of Quito, in the year 1797, from thirty to +forty thousand people were killed at once by an earthquake. One would +have thought that warning enough: but the warning was not taken: and now, +this very year, thousands more have been killed in the very same country, +in the very same way. + +They might have expected as much. For their towns are built, most of +them, close to volcanos--some of the highest and most terrible in the +world. And wherever there are volcanos there will be earthquakes. You +may have earthquakes without volcanos, now and then; but volcanos without +earthquakes, seldom or never. + +How does that come to pass? Does a volcano make earthquakes? No; we may +rather say that earthquakes are trying to make volcanos. For volcanos +are the holes which the steam underground has burst open that it may +escape into the air above. They are the chimneys of the great +blast-furnaces underground, in which Madam How pounds and melts up the +old rocks, to make them into new ones, and spread them out over the land +above. + +And are there many volcanos in the world? You have heard of Vesuvius, of +course, in Italy; and Etna, in Sicily; and Hecla, in Iceland. And you +have heard, too, of Kilauea, in the Sandwich Islands, and of Pele's +Hair--the yellow threads of lava, like fine spun glass, which are blown +from off its pools of fire, and which the Sandwich Islanders believed to +be the hair of a goddess who lived in the crater;--and you have read, +too, I hope, in Miss Yonge's _Book of Golden Deeds_, the noble story of +the Christian chieftainess who, in order to persuade her subjects to +become Christians also, went down into the crater and defied the goddess +of the volcano, and came back unhurt and triumphant. + +But if you look at the map, you will see that there are many, many more. +Get Keith Johnston's Physical Atlas from the schoolroom--of course it is +there (for a schoolroom without a physical atlas is like a needle without +an eye)--and look at the map which is called "Phenomena of Volcanic +Action." + +You will see in it many red dots, which mark the volcanos which are still +burning: and black dots, which mark those which have been burning at some +time or other, not very long ago, scattered about the world. Sometimes +they are single, like the red dot at Otaheite, or at Easter Island in the +Pacific. Sometimes the are in groups, or clusters, like the cluster at +the Sandwich Islands, or in the Friendly Islands, or in New Zealand. And +if we look in the Atlantic, we shall see four clusters: one in poor half- +destroyed Iceland, in the far north, one in the Azores, one in the +Canaries, and one in the Cape de Verds. And there is one dot in those +Canaries which we must not overlook, for it is no other than the famous +Peak of Teneriffe, a volcano which is hardly burnt out yet, and may burn +up again any day, standing up out of the sea more than 12,000 feet high +still, and once it must have been double that height. Some think that it +is perhaps the true Mount Atlas, which the old Greeks named when first +they ventured out of the Straits of Gibraltar down the coast of Africa, +and saw the great peak far to the westward, with the clouds cutting off +its top; and said that it was a mighty giant, the brother of the Evening +Star, who held up the sky upon his shoulders, in the midst of the +Fortunate Islands, the gardens of the daughter of the Evening Star, full +of strange golden fruits; and that Perseus had turned him into stone, +when he passed him with the Gorgon's Head. + +But you will see, too, that most of these red and black dots run in +crooked lines; and that many of the clusters run in lines likewise. + +Look at one line: by far the largest on the earth. You will learn a good +deal of geography from it. + +The red dots begin at a place called the Terribles, on the east side of +the Bay of Bengal. They run on, here and there, along the islands of +Sumatra and Java, and through the Spice Islands; and at New Guinea the +line of red dots forks. One branch runs south-east, through islands +whose names you never heard, to the Friendly Islands, and to New Zealand. +The other runs north, through the Philippines, through Japan, through +Kamschatka; and then there is a little break of sea, between Asia and +America: but beyond it, the red dots begin again in the Aleutian Islands, +and then turn down the whole west coast of America, down from Mount Elias +(in what was, till lately, Russian America) towards British Columbia. +Then, after a long gap, there are one or two in Lower California (and we +must not forget the terrible earthquake which has just shaken San +Francisco, between those two last places); and when we come down to +Mexico we find the red dots again plentiful, and only too plentiful; for +they mark the great volcanic line of Mexico, of which you will read, I +hope, some day, in Humboldt's works. But the line does not stop there. +After the little gap of the Isthmus of Panama, it begins again in Quito, +the very country which has just been shaken, and in which stand the huge +volcanos Chimborazo, Pasto, Antisana, Cotopaxi, Pichincha, +Tunguragua,--smooth cones from 15,000 to 20,000 feet high, shining white +with snow, till the heat inside melts it off, and leaves the cinders of +which the peaks are made all black and ugly among the clouds, ready to +burst in smoke and fire. South of them again, there is a long gap, and +then another line of red dots--Arequiba, Chipicani, Gualatieri, +Atacama,--as high as, or higher than those in Quito; and this, remember, +is the other country which has just been shaken. On the sea-shore below +those volcanos stood the hapless city of Arica, whose ruins we saw in the +picture. Then comes another gap; and then a line of more volcanos in +Chili, at the foot of which happened that fearful earthquake of 1835 +(besides many more) of which you will read some day in that noble book +_The Voyage of the Beagle_; and so the line of dots runs down to the +southernmost point of America. + +What a line we have traced! Long enough to go round the world if it were +straight. A line of holes out of which steam, and heat, and cinders, and +melted stones are rushing up, perpetually, in one place and another. Now +the holes in this line which are near each other have certainly something +to do with each other. For instance, when the earth shook the other day +round the volcanos of Quito, it shook also round the volcanos of Peru, +though they were 600 miles away. And there are many stories of +earthquakes being felt, or awful underground thunder heard, while +volcanos were breaking out hundreds of miles away. I will give you a +very curious instance of that. + +If you look at the West Indies on the map, you will see a line of red +dots runs through the Windward Islands: there are two volcanos in them, +one in Guadaloupe, and one in St. Vincent (I will tell you a curious +story, presently, about that last), and little volcanos (if they have +ever been real volcanos at all), which now only send out mud, in +Trinidad. There the red dots stop: but then begins along the north coast +of South America a line of mountain country called Cumana, and Caraccas, +which has often been horribly shaken by earthquakes. Now once, when the +volcano in St. Vincent began to pour out a vast stream of melted lava, a +noise like thunder was heard underground, over thousands of square miles +beyond those mountains, in the plains of Calabozo, and on the banks of +the Apure, more than 600 miles away from the volcano,--a plain sign that +there was something underground which joined them together, perhaps a +long crack in the earth. Look for yourselves at the places, and you will +see that (as Humboldt says) it is as strange as if an eruption of Mount +Vesuvius was heard in the north of France. + +So it seems as if these lines of volcanos stood along cracks in the rind +of the earth, through which the melted stuff inside was for ever trying +to force its way; and that, as the crack got stopped up in one place by +the melted stuff cooling and hardening again into stone, it was burst in +another place, and a fresh volcano made, or an old one re-opened. + +Now we can understand why earthquakes should be most common round +volcanos; and we can understand, too, why they would be worst before a +volcano breaks out, because then the steam is trying to escape; and we +can understand, too, why people who live near volcanos are glad to see +them blazing and spouting, because then they have hope that the steam has +found its way out, and will not make earthquakes any more for a while. +But still that is merely foolish speculation on chance. Volcanos can +never be trusted. No one knows when one will break out, or what it will +do; and those who live close to them--as the city of Naples is close to +Mount Vesuvius--must not be astonished if they are blown up or swallowed +up, as that great and beautiful city of Naples may be without a warning, +any day. + +For what happened to that same Mount Vesuvius nearly 1800 years ago, in +the old Roman times? For ages and ages it had been lying quiet, like any +other hill. Beautiful cities were built at its foot, filled with people +who were as handsome, and as comfortable, and (I am afraid) as wicked, as +people ever were on earth. Fair gardens, vineyards, olive-yards, covered +the mountain slopes. It was held to be one of the Paradises of the +world. As for the mountain's being a burning mountain, who ever thought +of that? To be sure, on the top of it was a great round crater, or cup, +a mile or more across, and a few hundred yards deep. But that was all +overgrown with bushes and wild vines, full of boars and deer. What sign +of fire was there in that? To be sure, also, there was an ugly place +below by the sea-shore, called the Phlegraen fields, where smoke and +brimstone came out of the ground, and a lake called Avernus over which +poisonous gases hung, and which (old stories told) was one of the mouths +of the Nether Pit. But what of that? It had never harmed any one, and +how could it harm them? + +So they all lived on, merrily and happily enough, till, in the year A.D. +79 (that was eight years, you know, after the Emperor Titus destroyed +Jerusalem), there was stationed in the Bay of Naples a Roman admiral, +called Pliny, who was also a very studious and learned man, and author of +a famous old book on natural history. He was staying on shore with his +sister; and as he sat in his study she called him out to see a strange +cloud which had been hanging for some time over the top of Mount +Vesuvius. It was in shape just like a pine-tree; not, of course, like +one of our branching Scotch firs here, but like an Italian stone pine, +with a long straight stem and a flat parasol-shaped top. Sometimes it +was blackish, sometimes spotted; and the good Admiral Pliny, who was +always curious about natural science, ordered his cutter and went away +across the bay to see what it could be. Earthquake shocks had been very +common for the last few days; but I do not suppose that Pliny had any +notion that the earthquakes and the cloud had aught to do with each +other. However, he soon found out that they had, and to his cost. When +he got near the opposite shore some of the sailors met him and entreated +him to turn back. Cinders and pumice-stones were falling down from the +sky, and flames breaking out of the mountain above. But Pliny would go +on: he said that if people were in danger, it was his duty to help them; +and that he must see this strange cloud, and note down the different +shapes into which it changed. But the hot ashes fell faster and faster; +the sea ebbed out suddenly, and left them nearly dry, and Pliny turned +away to a place called Stabiae, to the house of his friend Pomponianus, +who was just going to escape in a boat. Brave Pliny told him not to be +afraid, ordered his bath like a true Roman gentleman, and then went into +dinner with a cheerful face. Flames came down from the mountain, nearer +and nearer as the night drew on; but Pliny persuaded his friend that they +were only fires in some villages from which the peasants had fled, and +then went to bed and slept soundly. However, in the middle of the night +they found the courtyard being fast filled with cinders, and, if they had +not woke up the Admiral in time, he would never have been able to get out +of the house. The earthquake shocks grew stronger and fiercer, till the +house was ready to fall; and Pliny and his friend, and the sailors and +the slaves, all fled into the open fields, amid a shower of stones and +cinders, tying pillows over their heads to prevent their being beaten +down. The day had come by this time, but not the dawn--for it was still +pitch dark as night. They went down to their boats upon the shore; but +the sea raged so horribly that there was no getting on board of them. +Then Pliny grew tired, and made his men spread a sail for him, and lay +down on it; but there came down upon them a rush of flames, and a +horrible smell of sulphur, and all ran for their lives. Some of the +slaves tried to help the Admiral upon his legs; but he sank down again +overpowered with the brimstone fumes, and so was left behind. When they +came back again, there he lay dead, but with his clothes in order and his +face as quiet as if he had been only sleeping. And that was the end of a +brave and learned man--a martyr to duty and to the love of science. + +But what was going on in the meantime? Under clouds of ashes, cinders, +mud, lava, three of those happy cities were buried at once--Herculaneum, +Pompeii, Stabiae. They were buried just as the people had fled from +them, leaving the furniture and the earthenware, often even jewels and +gold, behind, and here and there among them a human being who had not had +time to escape from the dreadful deluge of dust. The ruins of +Herculaneum and Pompeii have been dug into since; and the paintings, +especially in Pompeii, are found upon the walls still fresh, preserved +from the air by the ashes which have covered them in. When you are older +you perhaps will go to Naples, and see in its famous museum the +curiosities which have been dug out of the ruined cities; and you will +walk, I suppose, along the streets of Pompeii and see the wheel-tracks in +the pavement, along which carts and chariots rumbled 2000 years ago. +Meanwhile, if you go nearer home, to the Crystal Palace and to the +Pompeian Court, as it is called, you will see an exact model of one of +these old buried houses, copied even to the very paintings on the wells, +and judge for yourself, as far as a little boy can judge, what sort of +life these thoughtless, luckless people lived 2000 years ago. + +And what had become of Vesuvius, the treacherous mountain? Half or more +than half of the side of the old crater had been blown away, and what was +left, which is now called the Monte Somma, stands in a half circle round +the new cone and new crater which is burning at this very day. True, +after that eruption which killed Pliny, Vesuvius fell asleep again, and +did not awake for 134 years, and then again for 269 years but it has been +growing more and more restless as the ages have passed on, and now hardly +a year passes without its sending out smoke and stones from its crater, +and streams of lava from its sides. + +And now, I suppose, you will want to know what a volcano is like, and +what a cone, and a crater, and lava are? + +What a volcano is like, it is easy enough to show you; for they are the +most simply and beautifully shaped of all mountains, and they are alike +all over the world, whether they be large or small. Almost every volcano +in the world, I believe, is, or has been once, of the shape which you see +in the drawing opposite; even those volcanos in the Sandwich Islands, of +which you have often heard, which are now great lakes of boiling fire +upon flat downs, without any cone to them at all. They, I believe, are +volcanos which have fallen in ages ago: just as in Java a whole burning +mountain fell in on the night of the 11th of August, in the year 1772. +Then, after a short and terrible earthquake, a bright cloud suddenly +covered the whole mountain. The people who dwelt around it tried to +escape; but before the poor souls could get away the earth sunk beneath +their feet, and the whole mountain fell in and was swallowed up with a +noise as if great cannon were being fired. Forty villages and nearly +3000 people were destroyed, and where the mountain had been was only a +plain of red-hot stones. In the same way, in the year 1698, the top of a +mountain in Quito fell in in a single night, leaving only two immense +peaks of rock behind, and pouring out great floods of mud mixed with dead +fish; for there are underground lakes among those volcanos which swarm +with little fish which never see the light. + +But most volcanos as I say, are, or have been, the shape of the one which +you see here. This is Cotopaxi, in Quito, more than 19,000 feet in +height. All those sloping sides are made of cinders and ashes, braced +together, I suppose, by bars of solid lava-stone inside, which prevent +the whole from crumbling down. The upper part, you see, is white with +snow, as far down as a line which is 15,000 feet above the sea; for the +mountain is in the tropics, close to the equator, and the snow will not +lie in that hot climate any lower down. But now and then the snow melts +off and rushes down the mountain side in floods of water and of mud, and +the cindery cone of Cotopaxi stands out black and dreadful against the +clear blue sky, and then the people of that country know what is coming. +The mountain is growing so hot inside that it melts off its snowy +covering; and soon it will burst forth with smoke and steam, and red-hot +stones and earthquakes, which will shake the ground, and roars that will +be heard, it may be, hundreds of miles away. + +And now for the words cone, crater, lava. If I can make you understand +those words, you will see why volcanos must be in general of the shape of +Cotopaxi. + +Cone, crater, lava: those words make up the alphabet of volcano learning. +The cone is the outside of a huge chimney; the crater is the mouth of it. +The lava is the ore which is being melted in the furnace below, that it +may flow out over the surface of the old land, and make new land instead. + +And where is the furnace itself? Who can tell that? Under the roots of +the mountains, under the depths of the sea; down "the path which no fowl +knoweth, and which the vulture's eye hath not seen: the lion's whelp hath +not trodden it, nor the fierce lion passed by it. There He putteth forth +His hand upon the rock; He overturneth the mountain by the roots; He +cutteth out rivers among the rocks; and His eye seeth every precious +thing"--while we, like little ants, run up and down outside the earth, +scratching, like ants, a few feet down, and calling that a deep ravine; +or peeping a few feet down into the crater of a volcano, unable to guess +what precious things may lie below--below even the fire which blazes and +roars up through the thin crust of the earth. For of the inside of this +earth we know nothing whatsoever: we only know that it is, on an average, +several times as heavy as solid rock; but how that can be, we know not. + +So let us look at the chimney, and what comes out of it; for we can see +very little more. + +Why is a volcano like a cone? + +For the same cause for which a molehill is like a cone, though a very +rough one; and that the little heaps which the burrowing beetles make on +the moor, or which the ant-lions in France make in the sand, are all +something in the shape of a cone, with a hole like a crater in the +middle. What the beetle and the ant-lion do on a very little scale, the +steam inside the earth does on a great scale. When once it has forced a +vent into the outside air, it tears out the rocks underground, grinds +them small against each other, often into the finest dust, and blasts +them out of the hole which it has made. Some of them fall back into the +hole, and are shot out again: but most of them fall round the hole, most +of them close to it, and fewer of them farther off, till they are piled +up in a ring round it, just as the sand is piled up round a beetle's +burrow. For days, and weeks, and months this goes on; even it may be for +hundreds of years: till a great cone is formed round the steam vent, +hundreds or thousands of feet in height, of dust and stones, and of +cinders likewise. For recollect, that when the steam has blown away the +cold earth and rock near the surface of the ground, it begins blowing out +the hot rocks down below, red-hot, white-hot, and at last actually +melted. But these, as they are hurled into the cool air above, become +ashes, cinders, and blocks of stone again, making the hill on which they +fall bigger and bigger continually. And thus does wise Madam How stand +in no need of bricklayers, but makes her chimneys build themselves. + +And why is the mouth of the chimney called a crater? + +Crater, as you know, is Greek for a cup. And the mouth of these +chimneys, when they have become choked and stopped working, are often +just the shape of a cup, or (as the Germans call them) kessels, which +means kettles, or caldrons. I have seen some of them as beautifully and +exactly rounded as if a cunning engineer had planned them, and had them +dug out with the spade. At first, of course, their sides and bottom are +nothing but loose stones, cinders, slag, ashes, such as would be thrown +out of a furnace. But Madam How, who, whenever she makes an ugly +desolate place, always tries to cover over its ugliness, and set +something green to grow over it, and make it pretty once more, does so +often and often by her worn-out craters. I have seen them covered with +short sweet turf, like so many chalk downs. I have seen them, too, +filled with bushes, which held woodcocks and wild boars. Once I came on +a beautiful round crater on the top of a mountain, which was filled at +the bottom with a splendid crop of potatoes. Though Madam How had not +put them there herself, she had at least taught the honest Germans to put +them there. And often Madam How turns her worn-out craters into +beautiful lakes. There are many such crater-lakes in Italy, as you will +see if ever you go there; as you may see in English galleries painted by +Wilson, a famous artist who died before you were born. You recollect +Lord Macaulay's ballad, "The Battle of the Lake Regillus"? Then that +Lake Regillus (if I recollect right) is one of these round crater lakes. +Many such deep clear blue lakes have I seen in the Eifel, in Germany; and +many a curious plant have I picked on their shores, where once the steam +blasted, and the earthquake roared, and the ash-clouds rushed up high +into the heaven, and buried all the land around in dust, which is now +fertile soil. And long did I puzzle to find out why the water stood in +some craters, while others, within a mile of them perhaps, were perfectly +dry. That I never found out for myself. But learned men tell me that +the ashes which fall back into the crater, if the bottom of it be wet +from rain, will sometimes "set" (as it is called) into a hard cement; and +so make the bottom of the great bowl waterproof, as if it were made of +earthenware. + +But what gives the craters this cup-shape at first? + +Think--While the steam and stones are being blown out, the crater is an +open funnel, with more or less upright walls inside. As the steam grows +weaker, fewer and fewer stones fall outside, and more and more fall back +again inside. At last they quite choke up the bottom of the great round +hole. Perhaps, too, the lava or melted rock underneath cools and grows +hard, and that chokes up the hole lower down. Then, down from the round +edge of the crater the stones and cinders roll inward more and more. The +rains wash them down, the wind blows them down. They roll to the middle, +and meet each other, and stop. And so gradually the steep funnel becomes +a round cup. You may prove for yourself that it must be so, if you will +try. Do you not know that if you dig a round hole in the ground, and +leave it to crumble in, it is sure to become cup-shaped at last, though +at first its sides may have been quite upright, like those of a bucket? +If you do not know, get a trowel and make your little experiment. + +And now you ought to understand what "cone" and "crater" mean. And more, +if you will think for yourself, you may guess what would come out of a +volcano when it broke out "in an eruption," as it is usually called. +First, clouds of steam and dust (what you would call smoke); then volleys +of stones, some cool, some burning hot; and at the last, because it lies +lowest of all, the melted rock itself, which is called lava. + +And where would that come out? At the top of the chimney? At the top of +the cone? + +No. Madam How, as I told you, usually makes things make themselves. She +has made the chimney of the furnace make itself; and next she will make +the furnace-door make itself. + +The melted lava rises in the crater--the funnel inside the cone--but it +never gets to the top. It is so enormously heavy that the sides of the +cone cannot bear its weight, and give way low down. And then, through +ashes and cinders, the melted lava burrows out, twisting and twirling +like an enormous fiery earth-worm, till it gets to the air outside, and +runs off down the mountain in a stream of fire. And so you may see (as +are to be seen on Vesuvius now) two eruptions at once--one of burning +stones above, and one of melted lava below. + +And what is lava? + +That, I think, I must tell you another time. For when I speak of it I +shall have to tell you more about Madam How, and her ways of making the +ground on which you stand, than I can say just now. But if you want to +know (as I dare say you do) what the eruption of a volcano is like, you +may read what follows. I did not see it happen; for I never had the good +fortune of seeing a mountain burning, though I have seen many and many a +one which has been burnt--extinct volcanos, as they are called. + +The man who saw it--a very good friend of mine, and a very good man of +science also--went last year to see an eruption on Vesuvius, not from the +main crater, but from a small one which had risen up suddenly on the +outside of it; and he gave me leave (when I told him that I was writing +for children) to tell them what he saw. + +This new cone, he said, was about 200 feet high, and perhaps 80 or 100 +feet across at the top. And as he stood below it (it was not safe to go +up it) smoke rolled up from its top, "rosy pink below," from the glare of +the caldron, and above "faint greenish or blueish silver of indescribable +beauty, from the light of the moon." But more--By good chance, the cone +began to send out, not smoke only, but brilliant burning stones. "Each +explosion," he says, "was like a vast girandole of rockets, with a noise +(such as rockets would make) like the waves on a beach, or the wind +blowing through shrouds. The mountain was trembling the whole time. So +it went on for two hours and more; sometimes eight or ten explosions in a +minute, and more than 1000 stones in each, some as large as two bricks +end to end. The largest ones mostly fell back into the crater; but the +smaller ones being thrown higher, and more acted on by the wind, fell in +immense numbers on the leeward slope of the cone" (of course, making it +bigger and bigger, as I have explained already to you), and of course, as +they were intensely hot and bright, making the cone look as if it too was +red-hot. But it was not so, he says, really. The colour of the stones +was rather "golden, and they spotted the black cone over with their +golden showers, the smaller ones stopping still, the bigger ones rolling +down, and jumping along just like hares." "A wonderful pedestal," he +says, "for the explosion which surmounted it." How high the stones flew +up he could not tell. "There was generally one which went much higher +than the rest, and pierced upwards towards the moon, who looked calmly +down, mocking such vain attempts to reach her." The large stones, of +course, did not rise so high; and some, he says, "only just appeared over +the rim of the cone, above which they came floating leisurely up, to show +their brilliant forms and intense white light for an instant, and then +subside again." + +Try and picture that to yourselves, remembering that this was only a +little side eruption, of no more importance to the whole mountain than +the fall of a slate off the roof is of importance to the whole house. And +then think how mean and weak man's fireworks, and even man's heaviest +artillery, are compared with the terrible beauty and terrible strength of +Madam How's artillery underneath our feet. + + C + / | \ + / | \ + A /---+---\ E + / | \ + /-----+-----\ E +Ground / | B \ Ground +---------/ | \------------ + | D | | D | D | + --+-----+--+---+-----+------ + | | | | | + | + +Now look at this figure. It represents a section of a volcano; that is, +one cut in half to show you the inside. A is the cone of cinders. B, +the black line up through the middle, is the funnel, or crack, through +which steam, ashes, lava, and everything else rises. C is the crater +mouth. D D D, which looks broken, are the old rocks which the steam +heaved up and burst before it could get out. And what are the black +lines across, marked E E E? They are the streams of lava which have +burrowed out, some covered up again in cinders, some lying bare in the +open air, some still inside the cone, bracing it together, holding it up. +Something like this is the inside of a volcano. + + + + +CHAPTER IV--THE TRANSFORMATIONS OF A GRAIN OF SOIL + + +Why, you ask, are there such terrible things as volcanos? Of what use +can they be? + +They are of use enough, my child; and of many more uses, doubt not, than +we know as yet, or ever shall know. But of one of their uses I can tell +you. + +They make, or help to make, divers and sundry curious things, from +gunpowder to your body and mine. + +What? I can understand their helping to make gunpowder, because the +sulphur in it is often found round volcanos; and I know the story of the +brave Spaniard who, when his fellows wanted materials for gunpowder, had +himself lowered in a basket down the crater of a South American volcano, +and gathered sulphur for them off the burning cliffs: but how can +volcanos help to make me? Am I made of lava? Or is there lava in me? + +My child, I did not say that volcanos helped to make you. I said that +they helped to make your body; which is a very different matter, as I beg +you to remember, now and always. Your body is no more you yourself than +the hoop which you trundle, or the pony which you ride. It is, like +them, your servant, your tool, your instrument, your organ, with which +you work: and a very useful, trusty, cunningly-contrived organ it is; and +therefore I advise you to make good use of it, for you are responsible +for it. But you yourself are not your body, or your brain, but something +else, which we call your soul, your spirit, your life. And that "you +yourself" would remain just the same if it were taken out of your body, +and put into the body of a bee, or of a lion, or any other body; or into +no body at all. At least so I believe; and so, I am happy to say, nine +hundred and ninety-nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine people out +of every million have always believed, because they have used their human +instincts and their common sense, and have obeyed (without knowing it) +the warning of a great and good philosopher called Herder, that "The +organ is in no case the power which works by it;" which is as much as to +say, that the engine is not the engine-driver, nor the spade the +gardener. + +There have always been, and always will be, a few people who cannot see +that. They think that a man's soul is part of his body, and that he +himself is not one thing, but a great number of things. They think that +his mind and character are only made up of all the thoughts, and +feelings, and recollections which have passed through his brain; and that +as his brain changes, he himself must change, and become another person, +and then another person again, continually. But do you not agree with +them: but keep in mind wise Herder's warning that you are not to +"confound the organ with the power," or the engine with the driver, or +your body with yourself: and then we will go on and consider how a +volcano, and the lava which flows from it, helps to make your body. + +Now I know that the Scotch have a saying, "That you cannot make broth out +of whinstones" (which is their name for lava). But, though they are very +clever people, they are wrong there. I never saw any broth in Scotland, +as far as I know, but what whinstones had gone to the making of it; nor a +Scotch boy who had not eaten many a bit of whinstone, and been all the +better for it. + +Of course, if you simply put the whinstones into a kettle and boiled +them, you would not get much out of them by such rough cookery as that. +But Madam How is the best and most delicate of all cooks; and she knows +how to pound, and soak, and stew whinstones so delicately, that she can +make them sauce and seasoning for meat, vegetables, puddings, and almost +everything that you eat; and can put into your veins things which were +spouted up red-hot by volcanos, ages and ages since, perhaps at the +bottom of ancient seas which are now firm dry land. + +This is very strange--as all Madam How's doings are. And you would think +it stranger still if you had ever seen the flowing of a lava stream. + +Out of a cave of slag and cinders in the black hillside rushes a golden +river, flowing like honey, and yet so tough that you cannot thrust a +stick into it, and so heavy that great stones (if you throw them on it) +float on the top, and are carried down like corks on water. It is so hot +that you cannot stand near it more than a few seconds; hotter, perhaps, +than any fire you ever saw: but as it flows, the outside of it cools in +the cool air, and gets covered with slag and cinders, something like +those which you may see thrown out of the furnaces in the Black Country +of Staffordshire. Sometimes these cling together above the lava stream, +and make a tunnel, through the cracks in which you may see the fiery +river rushing and roaring down below. But mostly they are kept broken +and apart, and roll and slide over each other on the top of the lava, +crashing and clanging as they grind together with a horrid noise. Of +course that stream, like all streams, runs towards the lower grounds. It +slides down glens, and fills them up; down the beds of streams, driving +off the water in hissing steam; and sometimes (as it did in Iceland a few +years ago) falls over some cliff, turning what had been a water-fall into +a fire-fall, and filling up the pool below with blocks of lava suddenly +cooled, with a clang and roar like that of chains shaken or brazen +vessels beaten, which is heard miles and miles away. Of course, woe to +the crops and gardens which stand in its way. It crawls over them all +and eats them up. It shoves down houses; it sets woods on fire, and +sends the steam and gas out of the tree-trunks hissing into the air. And +(curiously enough) it does this often without touching the trees +themselves. It flows round the trunks (it did so in a wood in the +Sandwich Islands a few years ago), and of course sets them on fire by its +heat, till nothing is left of them but blackened posts. But the moisture +which comes out of the poor tree in steam blows so hard against the lava +round that it can never touch the tree, and a round hole is left in the +middle of the lava where the tree was. Sometimes, too, the lava will +spit out liquid fire among the branches of the trees, which hangs down +afterwards from them in tassels of slag, and yet, by the very same means, +the steam in the branches will prevent the liquid fire burning them off, +or doing anything but just scorch the bark. + +But I can tell you a more curious story still. The lava stream, you must +know, is continually sending out little jets of gas and steam: some of it +it may have brought up from the very inside of the earth; most of it, I +suspect, comes from the damp herbage and damp soil over which it runs. Be +that as it may, a lava stream out of Mount Etna, in Sicily, came once +down straight upon the town of Catania. Everybody thought that the town +would be swallowed up; and the poor people there (who knew no better) +began to pray to St. Agatha--a famous saint, who, they say, was martyred +there ages ago--and who, they fancy, has power in heaven to save them +from the lava stream. And really what happened was enough to make +ignorant people, such as they were, think that St. Agatha had saved them. +The lava stream came straight down upon the town wall. Another foot, and +it would have touched it, and have begun shoving it down with a force +compared with which all the battering-rams that you ever read of in +ancient histories would be child's toys. But lo and behold! when the +lava stream got within a few inches of the wall it stopped, and began to +rear itself upright and build itself into a wall beside the wall. It +rose and rose, till I believe in one place it overtopped the wall and +began to curl over in a crest. All expected that it would fall over into +the town at last: but no, there it stopped, and cooled, and hardened, and +left the town unhurt. All the inhabitants said, of course, that St. +Agatha had done it: but learned men found out that, as usual Madam How +had done it, by making it do itself. The lava was so full of gas, which +was continually blowing out in little jets, that when it reached the +wall, it actually blew itself back from the wall; and, as the wall was +luckily strong enough not to be blown down, the lava kept blowing itself +back till it had time to cool. And so, my dear child, there was no +miracle at all in the matter; and the poor people of Catania had to thank +not St. Agatha, and any interference of hers, but simply Him who can +preserve, just as He can destroy, by those laws of nature which are the +breath of His mouth and the servants of His will. + +But in many a case the lava does not stop. It rolls on and on over the +downs and through the valleys, till it reaches the sea-shore, as it did +in Hawaii in the Sandwich Islands this very year. And then it cools, of +course; but often not before it has killed the fish by its sulphurous +gases and heat, perhaps for miles around. And there is good reason to +believe that the fossil fish which we so often find in rocks, perfect in +every bone, lying sometimes in heaps, and twisted (as I have seen them) +as if they had died suddenly and violently, were killed in this very way, +either by heat from lava streams, or else by the bursting up of gases +poisoning the water, in earthquakes and eruptions in the bottom of the +sea. I could tell you many stories of fish being killed in thousands by +earthquakes and volcanos during the last few years. But we have not time +to tell about everything. + +And now you will ask me, with more astonishment than ever, what possible +use can there be in these destroying streams of fire? And certainly, if +you had ever seen a lava stream even when cool, and looked down, as I +have done, at the great river of rough black blocks streaming away far +and wide over the land, you would think it the most hideous and the most +useless thing you ever saw. And yet, my dear child, there is One who +told men to judge not according to the appearance, but to judge righteous +judgment. He said that about matters spiritual and human: but it is +quite as true about matters natural, which also are His work, and all +obey His will. + +Now if you had seen, as I have seen, close round the edges of these lava +streams, and sometimes actually upon them, or upon the great bed of dust +and ashes which have been hurled far and wide out of ancient volcanos, +happy homesteads, rich crops, hemp and flax, and wheat, tobacco, lucerne, +roots, and vineyards laden with white and purple grapes, you would have +begun to suspect that the lava streams were not, after all, such very bad +neighbours. And when I tell you that volcanic soils (as they are +called), that is, soil which has at first been lava or ashes, are +generally the richest soils in the world--that, for instance (as some one +told me the other day), there is soil in the beautiful island of Madeira +so thin that you cannot dig more than two or three inches down without +coming to the solid rock of lava, or what is harder even, obsidian (which +is the black glass which volcanos sometimes make, and which the old +Mexicans used to chip into swords and arrows, because they had no +steel)--and that this soil, thin as it is, is yet so fertile, that in it +used to be grown the grapes of which the famous Madeira wine was +made--when you remember this, and when you remember, too, the Lothians of +Scotland (about which I shall have to say a little to you just now), then +you will perhaps agree with me, that Lady Why has not been so very wrong +in setting Madam How to pour out lava and ashes upon the surface of the +earth. + +For see--down below, under the roots of the mountains, Madam How works +continually like a chemist in his laboratory, melting together all the +rocks, which are the bones and leavings of the old worlds. If they +stayed down below there, they would be of no use; while they will be of +use up here in the open air. For, year by year--by the washing of rain +and rivers, and also, I am sorry to say, by the ignorant and foolish +waste of mankind--thousands and millions of tons of good stuff are +running into the sea every year, which would, if it could be kept on +land, make food for men and animals, plants and trees. So, in order to +supply the continual waste of this upper world, Madam How is continually +melting up the under world, and pouring it out of the volcanos like +manure, to renew the face of the earth. In these lava rocks and ashes +which she sends up there are certain substances, without which men cannot +live--without which a stalk of corn or grass cannot grow. Without +potash, without magnesia, both of which are in your veins and +mine--without silicates (as they are called), which give flint to the +stems of corn and of grass, and so make them stiff and hard, and able to +stand upright--and very probably without the carbonic acid gas, which +comes out of the volcanos, and is taken up by the leaves of plants, and +turned by Madam How's cookery into solid wood--without all these things, +and I suspect without a great many more things which come out of +volcanos--I do not see how this beautiful green world could get on at +all. + +Of course, when the lava first cools on the surface of the ground it is +hard enough, and therefore barren enough. But Madam How sets to work +upon it at once, with that delicate little water-spade of hers, which we +call rain, and with that alone, century after century, and age after age, +she digs the lava stream down, atom by atom, and silts it over the +country round in rich manure. So that if Madam How has been a rough and +hasty workwoman in pumping her treasures up out of her mine with her +great steam-pumps, she shows herself delicate and tender and kindly +enough in giving them away afterwards. + +Nay, even the fine dust which is sometimes blown out of volcanos is +useful to countries far away. So light it is, that it rises into the sky +and is wafted by the wind across the seas. So, in the year 1783, ashes +from the Skaptar Jokull, in Iceland, were carried over the north of +Scotland, and even into Holland, hundreds of miles to the south. + +So, again, when in the year 1812 the volcano of St. Vincent, in the West +India Islands, poured out torrents of lava, after mighty earthquakes +which shook all that part of the world, a strange thing happened (about +which I have often heard from those who saw it) in the island of +Barbados, several hundred miles away. For when the sun rose in the +morning (it was a Sunday morning), the sky remained more dark than any +night, and all the poor negroes crowded terrified out of their houses +into the streets, fancying the end of the world was come. But a learned +man who was there, finding that, though the sun was risen, it was still +pitchy dark, opened his window, and found that it was stuck fast by +something on the ledge outside, and, when he thrust it open, found the +ledge covered deep in soft red dust; and he instantly said, like a wise +man as he was, "The volcano of St. Vincent must have broken out, and +these are the ashes from it." Then he ran down stairs and quieted the +poor negroes, telling them not to be afraid, for the end of the world was +not coming just yet. But still the dust went on falling till the whole +island, I am told, was covered an inch thick; and the same thing happened +in the other islands round. People thought--and they had reason to think +from what had often happened elsewhere--that though the dust might hurt +the crops for that year, it would make them richer in years to come, +because it would act as manure upon the soil; and so it did after a few +years; but it did terrible damage at the time, breaking off the boughs of +trees and covering up the crops; and in St. Vincent itself whole estates +were ruined. It was a frightful day, but I know well that behind that +How there was a Why for its happening, and happening too, about that very +time, which all who know the history of negro slavery in the West Indies +can guess for themselves, and confess, I hope, that in this case, as in +all others, when Lady Why seems most severe she is often most just and +kind. + +Ah! my dear child, that I could go on talking to you of this for hours +and days! But I have time now only to teach you the alphabet of these +matters--and, indeed, I know little more than the alphabet myself; but if +the very letters of Madam How's book, and the mere A, B, AB, of it, which +I am trying to teach you, are so wonderful and so beautiful, what must +its sentences be and its chapters? And what must the whole book be like? +But that last none can read save He who wrote it before the worlds were +made. + +But now I see you want to ask a question. Let us have it out. I would +sooner answer one question of yours than tell you ten things without your +asking. + +Is there potash and magnesia and silicates in the soil here? And if +there is, where did they come from? For there are no volcanos in +England. + +Yes. There are such things in the soil; and little enough of them, as +the farmers here know too well. For we here, in Windsor Forest, are on +the very poorest and almost the newest soil in England; and when Madam +How had used up all her good materials in making the rest of the island, +she carted away her dry rubbish and shot it down here for us to make the +best of; and I do not think that we and our forefathers have done so very +ill with it. But where the rich part, or staple, of our soils came from +first it would be very difficult to say, so often has Madam How made, and +unmade, and re-made England, and sifted her materials afresh every time. +But if you go to the Lowlands of Scotland, you may soon see where the +staple of the soil came from there, and that I was right in saying that +there were atoms of lava in every Scotch boy's broth. Not that there +were ever (as far as I know) volcanos in Scotland or in England. Madam +How has more than one string to her bow, or two strings either; so when +she pours out her lavas, she does not always pour them out in the open +air. Sometimes she pours them out at the bottom of the sea, as she did +in the north of Ireland and the south-west of Scotland, when she made the +Giant's Causeway, and Fingal's Cave in Staffa too, at the bottom of the +old chalk ocean, ages and ages since. Sometimes she squirts them out +between the layers of rock, or into cracks which the earthquakes have +made, in what are called trap dykes, of which there are plenty to be seen +in Scotland, and in Wales likewise. And then she lifts the earth up from +the bottom of the sea, and sets the rain to wash away all the soft rocks, +till the hard lava stands out in great hills upon the surface of the +ground. Then the rain begins eating away those lava-hills likewise, and +manuring the earth with them; and wherever those lava-hills stand up, +whether great or small, there is pretty sure to be rich land around them. +If you look at the Geological Map of England and Ireland, and the red +spots upon it, which will show you where those old lavas are, you will +see how much of them there is in England, at the Lizard Point in +Cornwall, and how much more in Scotland and the north of Ireland. In +South Devon, in Shropshire--with its beautiful Wrekin, and Caradoc, and +Lawley--in Wales, round Snowdon (where some of the soil is very rich), +and, above all, in the Lowlands of Scotland, you see these red marks, +showing the old lavas, which are always fertile, except the poor old +granite, which is of little use save to cut into building stone, because +it is too full of quartz--that is, flint. + +Think of this the next time you go through Scotland in the railway, +especially when you get near Edinburgh. As you run through the Lothians, +with their noble crops of corn, and roots, and grasses--and their great +homesteads, each with its engine chimney, which makes steam do the work +of men--you will see rising out of the plain, hills of dark rock, +sometimes in single knobs, like Berwick Law or Stirling Crag--sometimes +in noble ranges, like Arthur's Seat, or the Sidlaws, or the Ochils. Think +what these black bare lumps of whinstone are, and what they do. Remember +they are mines--not gold mines, but something richer still--food mines, +which Madam How thrust into the inside of the earth, ages and ages since, +as molten lava rock, and then cooled them and lifted them up, and pared +them away with her ice-plough and her rain-spade, and spread the stuff of +them over the wide carses round, to make in that bleak northern climate, +which once carried nothing but fir-trees and heather, a soil fit to feed +a great people; to cultivate in them industry, and science, and valiant +self-dependence and self-help; and to gather round the Heart of +Midlothian and the Castle Rock of Edinburgh the stoutest and the ablest +little nation which Lady Why has made since she made the Greeks who +fought at Salamis. + +Of those Greeks you have read, or ought to read, in Mr. Cox's _Tales of +the Persian War_. Some day you will read of them in their own books, +written in their grand old tongue. Remember that Lady Why made them, as +she has made the Scotch, by first preparing a country for them, which +would call out all their courage and their skill; and then by giving them +the courage and the skill to make use of the land where she had put them. + +And now think what a wonderful fairy tale you might write for +yourself--and every word of it true--of the adventures of one atom of +Potash or some other Salt, no bigger than a needle's point, in such a +lava stream as I have been telling of. How it has run round and round, +and will run round age after age, in an endless chain of change. How it +began by being molten fire underground, how then it became part of a hard +cold rock, lifted up into a cliff, beaten upon by rain and storm, and +washed down into the soil of the plain, till, perhaps, the little atom of +mineral met with the rootlet of some great tree, and was taken up into +its sap in spring, through tiny veins, and hardened the next year into a +piece of solid wood. And then how that tree was cut down, and its logs, +it may be, burnt upon the hearth, till the little atom of mineral lay +among the wood-ashes, and was shovelled out and thrown upon the field and +washed into the soil again, and taken up by the roots of a clover plant, +and became an atom of vegetable matter once more. And then how, perhaps, +a rabbit came by, and ate the clover, and the grain of mineral became +part of the rabbit; and then how a hawk killed that rabbit, and ate it, +and so the grain became part of the hawk; and how the farmer shot the +hawk, and it fell perchance into a stream, and was carried down into the +sea; and when its body decayed, the little grain sank through the water, +and was mingled with the mud at the bottom of the sea. But do its +wanderings stop there? Not so, my child. Nothing upon this earth, as I +told you once before, continues in one stay. That grain of mineral might +stay at the bottom of the sea a thousand or ten thousand years, and yet +the time would come when Madam How would set to work on it again. Slowly, +perhaps, she would sink that mud so deep, and cover it up with so many +fresh beds of mud, or sand, or lime, that under the heavy weight, and +perhaps, too, under the heat of the inside of the earth, that Mud would +slowly change to hard Slate Rock; and ages after, it may be, Madam How +might melt that Slate Rock once more, and blast it out; and then through +the mouth of a volcano the little grain of mineral might rise into the +open air again to make fresh soil, as it had done thousands of years +before. For Madam How can manufacture many different things out of the +same materials. She may have so wrought with that grain of mineral, that +she may have formed it into part of a precious stone, and men may dig it +out of the rock, or pick it up in the river-bed, and polish it, and set +it, and wear it. Think of that--that in the jewels which your mother or +your sisters wear, or in your father's signet ring, there may be atoms +which were part of a live plant, or a live animal, millions of years ago, +and may be parts of a live plant or a live animal millions of years +hence. + +Think over again, and learn by heart, the links of this endless chain of +change: Fire turned into Stone--Stone into Soil--Soil into Plant--Plant +into Animal--Animal into Soil--Soil into Stone--Stone into Fire again--and +then Fire into Stone again, and the old thing run round once more. + +So it is, and so it must be. For all things which are born in Time must +change in Time, and die in Time, till that Last Day of this our little +earth, in which, + + "Like to the baseless fabric of a vision, + The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces, + The solemn temples, the great globe itself, + Yea, all things which inherit, shall dissolve, + And, like an unsubstantial pageant faded, + Leave not a rack behind." + +So all things change and die, and so your body too must change and +die--but not yourself. Madam How made your body; and she must unmake it +again, as she unmakes all her works in Time and Space; but you, child, +your Soul, and Life, and Self, she did not make; and over you she has no +power. For you were not, like your body, created in Time and Space; and +you will endure though Time and Space should be no more: because you are +the child of the Living God, who gives to each thing its own body, and +can give you another body, even as seems good to Him. + + + + +CHAPTER V--THE ICE-PLOUGH + + +You want to know why I am so fond of that little bit of limestone, no +bigger than my hand, which lies upon the shelf; why I ponder over it so +often, and show it to all sensible people who come to see me? + +I do so, not only for the sake of the person who gave it to me, but +because there is written on it a letter out of Madam How's alphabet, +which has taken wise men many a year to decipher. I could not decipher +that letter when first I saw the stone. More shame for me, for I had +seen it often before, and understood it well enough, in many another page +of Madam How's great book. Take the stone, and see if you can find out +anything strange about it. + +Well, it is only a bit of marble as big as my hand, that looks as if it +had been, and really has been, broken off by a hammer. But when you look +again, you see there is a smooth scraped part on one edge, that seems to +have been rubbed against a stone. + +Now look at that rubbed part, and tell me how it was done. + +You have seen men often polish one stone on another, or scour floors with +a Bath brick, and you will guess at first that this was polished so: but +if it had been, then the rubbed place would have been flat: but if you +put your fingers over it, you will find that it is not flat. It is +rolled, fluted, channelled, so that the thing or things which rubbed it +must have been somewhat round. And it is covered, too, with very fine +and smooth scratches or grooves, all running over the whole in the same +line. Now what could have done that? + +Of course a man could have done it, if he had taken a large round stone +in his hand, and worked the large channellings with that, and then had +taken fine sand and gravel upon the points of his fingers, and worked the +small scratches with that. But this stone came from a place where man +had, perhaps, never stood before,--ay, which, perhaps, had never seen the +light of day before since the world was made; and as I happen to know +that no man made the marks upon that stone, we must set to work and think +again for some tool of Madam How's which may have made them. + +And now I think you must give up guessing, and I must tell you the answer +to the riddle. Those marks were made by a hand which is strong and yet +gentle, tough and yet yielding, like the hand of a man; a hand which +handles and uses in a grip stronger than a giant's its own carving tools, +from the great boulder stone as large as this whole room to the finest +grain of sand. And that is ICE. + +That piece of stone came from the side of the Rosenlaui glacier in +Switzerland, and it was polished by the glacier ice. The glacier melted +and shrank this last hot summer farther back than it had done for many +years, and left bare sheets of rock, which it had been scraping at for +ages, with all the marks fresh upon them. And that bit was broken off +and brought to me, who never saw a glacier myself, to show me how the +marks which the ice makes in Switzerland are exactly the same as those +which the ice has made in Snowdon and in the Highlands, and many another +place where I have traced them, and written a little, too, about them in +years gone by. And so I treasure this, as a sign that Madam How's ways +do not change nor her laws become broken; that, as that great philosopher +Sir Charles Lyell will tell you, when you read his books, Madam How is +making and unmaking the surface of the earth now, by exactly the same +means as she was making and unmaking ages and ages since; and that what +is going on slowly and surely in the Alps in Switzerland was going on +once here where we stand. + +It is very difficult, I know, for a little boy like you to understand how +ice, and much more how soft snow, should have such strength that it can +grind this little stone, much more such strength as to grind whole +mountains into plains. You have never seen ice and snow do harm. You +cannot even recollect the Crimean Winter, as it was called then; and well +for you you cannot, considering all the misery it brought at home and +abroad. You cannot, I say, recollect the Crimean Winter, when the Thames +was frozen over above the bridges, and the ice piled in little bergs ten +to fifteen feet high, which lay, some of them, stranded on the shores, +about London itself, and did not melt, if I recollect, until the end of +May. You never stood, as I stood, in the great winter of 1837-8 on +Battersea Bridge, to see the ice break up with the tide, and saw the +great slabs and blocks leaping and piling upon each other's backs, and +felt the bridge tremble with their shocks, and listened to their horrible +grind and roar, till one got some little picture in one's mind of what +must be the breaking up of an ice-floe in the Arctic regions, and what +must be the danger of a ship nipped in the ice and lifted up on high, +like those in the pictures of Arctic voyages which you are so fond of +looking through. You cannot recollect how that winter even in our little +Blackwater Brook the alder stems were all peeled white, and scarred, as +if they had been gnawed by hares and deer, simply by the rushing and +scraping of the ice,--a sight which gave me again a little picture of the +destruction which the ice makes of quays, and stages, and houses along +the shore upon the coasts of North America, when suddenly setting in with +wind and tide, it jams and piles up high inland, as you may read for +yourself some day in a delightful book called _Frost and Fire_. You +recollect none of these things. Ice and snow are to you mere playthings; +and you long for winter, that you may make snowballs and play hockey and +skate upon the ponds, and eat ice like a foolish boy till you make your +stomach ache. And I dare say you have said, like many another boy, on a +bright cheery ringing frosty day, "Oh, that it would be always winter!" +You little knew for what you asked. You little thought what the earth +would soon be like, if it were always winter,--if one sheet of ice on the +pond glued itself on to the bottom of the last sheet, till the whole pond +was a solid mass,--if one snow-fall lay upon the top of another snow-fall +till the moor was covered many feet deep and the snow began sliding +slowly down the glen from Coombs's, burying the green fields, tearing the +trees up by their roots, burying gradually house, church, and village, +and making this place for a few thousand years what it was many thousand +years ago. Good-bye then, after a very few winters, to bees, and +butterflies, and singing-birds, and flowers; and good-bye to all +vegetables, and fruit, and bread; good-bye to cotton and woollen clothes. +You would have, if you were left alive, to dress in skins, and eat fish +and seals, if any came near enough to be caught. You would have to live +in a word, if you could live at all, as Esquimaux live now in Arctic +regions, and as people had to live in England ages since, in the times +when it was always winter, and icebergs floated between here and +Finchampstead. Oh no, my child: thank Heaven that it is not always +winter; and remember that winter ice and snow, though it is a very good +tool with which to make the land, must leave the land year by year if +that land is to be fit to live in. + +I said that if the snow piled high enough upon the moor, it would come +down the glen in a few years through Coombs's Wood; and I said then you +would have a small glacier here--such a glacier (to compare small things +with great) as now comes down so many valleys in the Alps, or has come +down all the valleys of Greenland and Spitzbergen till they reach the +sea, and there end as cliffs of ice, from which great icebergs snap off +continually, and fall and float away, wandering southward into the +Atlantic for many a hundred miles. You have seen drawings of such +glaciers in Captain Cook's Voyages; and you may see photographs of Swiss +glaciers in any good London print-shop; and therefore you have seen +almost as much about them as I have seen, and may judge for yourself how +you would like to live where it is always winter. + +Now you must not ask me to tell you what a glacier is like, for I have +never seen one; at least, those which I have seen were more than fifty +miles away, looking like white clouds hanging on the gray mountain sides. +And it would be an impertinence--that means a meddling with things which +I have no business--to picture to you glaciers which have been pictured +so well and often by gentlemen who escape every year from their hard work +in town to find among the glaciers of the Alps health and refreshment, +and sound knowledge, and that most wholesome and strengthening of all +medicines, toil. + +So you must read of them in such books as _Peaks, Passes, and Glaciers_, +and Mr. Willes's _Wanderings in the High Alps_, and Professor Tyndall's +different works; or you must look at them (as I just now said) in +photographs or in pictures. But when you do that, or when you see a +glacier for yourself, you must bear in mind what a glacier means--that it +is a river of ice, fed by a lake of snow. The lake from which it springs +is the eternal snow-field which stretches for miles and miles along the +mountain tops, fed continually by fresh snow-storms falling from the sky. +That snow slides off into the valleys hour by hour, and as it rushes down +is ground and pounded, and thawed and frozen again into a sticky paste of +ice, which flows slowly but surely till it reaches the warm valley at the +mountain foot, and there melts bit by bit. The long black lines which +you see winding along the white and green ice of the glacier are the +stones which have fallen from the cliffs above. They will be dropped at +the end of the glacier, and mixed with silt and sand and other stones +which have come down inside the glacier itself, and piled up in the field +in great mounds, which are called moraines, such as you may see and walk +on in Scotland many a time, though you might never guess what they are. + +The river which runs out at the glacier foot is, you must remember, all +foul and milky with the finest mud; and that mud is the grinding of the +rocks over which the glacier has been crawling down, and scraping them as +it scraped my bit of stone with pebbles and with sand. And this is the +alphabet, which, if you learn by heart, you will learn to understand how +Madam How uses her great ice-plough to plough down her old mountains, and +spread the stuff of them about the valleys to make rich straths of +fertile soil. Nay, so immensely strong, because immensely heavy, is the +share of this her great ice-plough, that some will tell you (and it is +not for me to say that they are wrong) that with it she has ploughed out +all the mountain lakes in Europe and in North America; that such lakes, +for instance, as Ullswater or Windermere have been scooped clean out of +the solid rock by ice which came down these glaciers in old times. And +be sure of this, that next to Madam How's steam-pump and her rain-spade, +her great ice-plough has had, and has still, the most to do with making +the ground on which we live. + +Do I mean that there were ever glaciers here? No, I do not. There have +been glaciers in Scotland in plenty. And if any Scotch boy shall read +this book, it will tell him presently how to find the marks of them far +and wide over his native land. But as you, my child, care most about +this country in which you live, I will show you in any gravel-pit, or +hollow lane upon the moor, the marks, not of a glacier, which is an ice- +river, but of a whole sea of ice. + +Let us come up to the pit upon the top of the hill, and look carefully at +what we see there. The lower part of the pit of course is a solid rock +of sand. On the top of that is a cap of gravel, five, six, ten feet +thick. Now the sand was laid down there by water at the bottom of an old +sea; and therefore the top of it would naturally be flat and smooth, as +the sands at Hunstanton or at Bournemouth are; and the gravel, if it was +laid down by water, would naturally lie flat on it again: but it does +not. See how the top of the sand is dug out into deep waves and pits, +filled up with gravel. And see, too, how over some of the gravel you get +sand again, and then gravel again, and then sand again, till you cannot +tell where one fairly begins and the other ends. Why, here are little +dots of gravel, six or eight feet down, in what looks the solid sand +rock, yet the sand must have been opened somehow to put the gravel in. + +You say you have seen that before. You have seen the same curious +twisting of the gravel and sand into each other on the top of Farley +Hill, and in the new cutting on Minley Hill; and, best of all, in the +railway cutting between Ascot and Sunningdale, where upon the top the +white sand and gravel is arranged in red and brown waves, and festoons, +and curlicues, almost like Prince of Wales's feathers. Yes, that last is +a beautiful section of ice-work; so beautiful, that I hope to have it +photographed some day. + +Now, how did ice do this? + +Well, I was many a year before I found out that, and I dare say I never +should have found it out for myself. A gentleman named Trimmer, who, +alas! is now dead, was, I believe, the first to find it out. He knew +that along the coast of Labrador, and other cold parts of North America, +and on the shores, too, of the great river St. Lawrence, the stranded +icebergs, and the ice-foot, as it is called, which is continually forming +along the freezing shores, grub and plough every tide into the mud and +sand, and shove up before them, like a ploughshare, heaps of dirt; and +that, too, the ice itself is full of dirt, of sand and stones, which it +may have brought from hundreds of miles away; and that, as this +ploughshare of dirty ice grubs onward, the nose of the plough is +continually being broken off, and left underneath the mud; and that, when +summer comes, and the ice melts, the mud falls back into the place where +the ice had been, and covers up the gravel which was in the ice. So, +what between the grubbing of the ice-plough into the mud, and the dirt +which it leaves behind when it melts, the stones, and sand, and mud upon +the shore are jumbled up into curious curved and twisted layers, exactly +like those which Mr. Trimmer saw in certain gravel-pits. And when I +first read about that, I said, "And exactly like what I have been seeing +in every gravel-pit round here, and trying to guess how they could have +been made by currents of water, and yet never could make any guess which +would do." But after that it was all explained to me; and I said, +"Honour to the man who has let Madam How teach him what she had been +trying to teach me for fifteen years, while I was too stupid to learn it. +Now I am certain, as certain as I can be of any earthly thing, that the +whole of these Windsor Forest Flats were ages ago ploughed and harrowed +over and over again, by ice-floes and icebergs drifting and stranding in +a shallow sea." + +And if you say, my dear child, as some people will say, that it is like +building a large house upon a single brick to be sure that there was an +iceberg sea here, just because I see a few curlicues in the gravel and +sand--then I must tell you that there are sometimes--not often, but +sometimes--pages in Madam How's book in which one single letter tells you +as much as a whole chapter; in which if you find one little fact, and +know what it really means, it makes you certain that a thousand other +great facts have happened. You may be astonished: but you cannot deny +your own eyes, and your own common sense. You feel like Robinson Crusoe +when, walking along the shore of his desert island, he saw for the first +time the print of a man's foot in the sand. How it could have got there +without a miracle he could not dream. But there it was. One footprint +was as good as the footprints of a whole army would have been. A man had +been there; and more men might come. And in fear of the savages--and if +you have read Robinson Crusoe you know how just his fears were--he went +home trembling and loaded his muskets, and barricaded his cave, and +passed sleepless nights watching for the savages who might come, and who +came after all. + +And so there are certain footprints in geology which there is no +mistaking; and the prints of the ice-plough are among them. + +For instance:--When they were trenching the new plantation close to +Wellington College station, the men turned up out of the ground a great +many Sarsden stones; that is, pieces of hard sugary sand, such as +Stonehenge is made of. And when I saw these I said, "I suspect these +were brought here by icebergs:" but I was not sure, and waited. As the +men dug on, they dug up a great many large flints, with bottle-green +coats. "Now," I said, "I am sure. For I know where these flints must +have come from." And for reasons which would be too long to tell you +here, I said, "Some time or other, icebergs have been floating northward +from the Hog's Back over Aldershot and Farnborough, and have been trying +to get into the Vale of Thames by the slope at Wellington College +station; and they have stranded, and dropped these flints." And I am so +sure of that, that if I found myself out wrong after all I should be at +my wit's end; for I should know that I was wrong about a hundred things +besides. + +Or again, if you ever go up Deeside in Scotland, towards Balmoral, and +turn up Glen Muick, towards Alt-na-guisach, of which you may see a +picture in the Queen's last book, you will observe standing on your right +hand, just above Birk Hall, three pretty rounded knolls, which they call +the Coile Hills. You may easily know them by their being covered with +beautiful green grass instead of heather. That is because they are made +of serpentine or volcanic rock, which (as you have seen) often cuts into +beautiful red and green marble; and which also carries a very rich soil +because it is full of magnesia. If you go up those hills, you get a +glorious view--the mountains sweeping round you where you stand, up to +the top of Lochnagar, with its bleak walls a thousand feet perpendicular, +and gullies into which the sun never shines, and round to the dark fir +forests of the Ballochbuie. That is the arc of the bow; and the cord of +the bow is the silver Dee, more than a thousand feet below you; and in +the centre of the cord, where the arrow would be fitted in, stands +Balmoral, with its Castle, and its Gardens, and its Park, and pleasant +cottages and homesteads all around. And when you have looked at the +beautiful amphitheatre of forest at your feet, and looked too at the +great mountains to the westward, and Benaun, and Benna-buird and Benna- +muicdhui, with their bright patches of eternal snow, I should advise you +to look at the rock on which you stand, and see what you see there. And +you will see that on the side of the Coiles towards Lochnagar, and +between the knolls of them, are scattered streams, as it were, of great +round boulder stones--which are not serpentine, but granite from the top +of Lochnagar, five miles away. And you will see that the knolls of +serpentine rock, or at least their backs and shoulders towards Lochnagar, +are all smoothed and polished till they are as round as the backs of +sheep, "roches moutonnees," as the French call ice-polished rocks; and +then, if you understand what that means, you will say, as I said, "I am +perfectly certain that this great basin between me and Lochnagar, which +is now 3000 feet deep of empty air was once filled up with ice to the +height of the hills on which I stand--about 1700 feet high--and that that +ice ran over into Glen Muick, between these pretty knolls, and covered +the ground where Birk Hall now stands." + +And more:--When you see growing on those knolls of serpentine a few +pretty little Alpine plants, which have no business down there so low, +you will have a fair right to say, as I said, "The seeds of these plants +were brought by the ice ages and ages since from off the mountain range +of Lochnagar, and left here, nestling among the rocks, to found a fresh +colony, far from their old mountain home." + +If I could take you with me up to Scotland,--take you, for instance, +along the Tay, up the pass of Dunkeld, or up Strathmore towards Aberdeen, +or up the Dee towards Braemar,--I could show you signs, which cannot be +mistaken, of the time when Scotland was, just like Spitzbergen or like +Greenland now, covered in one vast sheet of snow and ice from year's end +to year's end; when glaciers were ploughing out its valleys, icebergs +were breaking off the icy cliffs and floating out to sea; when not a +bird, perhaps, was to be seen save sea-fowl, not a plant upon the rocks +but a few lichens, and Alpine saxifrages, and such like--desolation and +cold and lifeless everywhere. That ice-time went on for ages and for +ages; and yet it did not go on in vain. Through it Madam How was +ploughing down the mountains of Scotland to make all those rich farms +which stretch from the north side of the Frith of Forth into +Sutherlandshire. I could show you everywhere the green banks and knolls +of earth, which Scotch people call "kames" and "tomans"--perhaps brought +down by ancient glaciers, or dropped by ancient icebergs--now so smooth +and green through summer and through winter, among the wild heath and the +rough peat-moss, that the old Scots fancied, and I dare say Scotch +children fancy still, fairies dwelt inside. If you laid your ear against +the mounds, you might hear the fairy music, sweet and faint, beneath the +ground. If you watched the mound at night, you might see the fairies +dancing the turf short and smooth, or riding out on fairy horses, with +green silk clothes and jingling bells. But if you fell asleep upon the +mounds, the fairy queen came out and carried you for seven years into +Fairyland, till you awoke again in the same place, to find all changed +around you, and yourself grown thin and old. + +These are all dreams and fancies--untrue, not because they are too +strange and wonderful, but because they are not strange and wonderful +enough: for more wonderful sure than any fairy tale it is, that Madam How +should make a rich and pleasant land by the brute force of ice. + +And were there any men and women in that old age of ice? That is a long +story, and a dark one too; we will talk of it next time. + + + + +CHAPTER VI--THE TRUE FAIRY TALE + + +You asked if there were men in England when the country was covered with +ice and snow. Look at this, and judge for yourself. + +What is it? a piece of old mortar? Yes. But mortar which was made Madam +How herself, and not by any man. And what is in it? A piece of flint +and some bits of bone. But look at that piece of flint. It is narrow, +thin, sharp-edged: quite different in shape from any bit of flint which +you or I ever saw among the hundreds of thousands of broken bits of +gravel which we tread on here all day long; and here are some more bits +like it, which came from the same place--all very much the same shape, +like rough knives or razor blades; and here is a core of flint, the +remaining part of a large flint, from which, as you may see, blades like +those have been split off. Those flakes of flint, my child, were split +off by men; even your young eyes ought to be able to see that. And here +are other pieces of flint--pear-shaped, but flattened, sharp at one end +and left rounded at the other, which look like spear-heads, or +arrow-heads, or pointed axes, or pointed hatchets--even your young eyes +can see that these must have been made by man. And they are, I may tell +you, just like the tools of flint, or of obsidian, which is volcanic +glass, and which savages use still where they have not iron. There is a +great obsidian knife, you know, in a house in this very parish, which +came from Mexico; and your eye can tell you how like it is to these flint +ones. But these flint tools are very old. If you crack a fresh flint, +you will see that its surface is gray, and somewhat rough, so that it +sticks to your tongue. These tools are smooth and shiny: and the edges +of some of them are a little rubbed from being washed about in gravel; +while the iron in the gravel has stained them reddish, which it would +take hundreds and perhaps thousands of years to do. There are little +rough markings, too, upon some of them, which, if you look at through a +magnifying glass, are iron, crystallised into the shape of little sea- +weeds and trees--another sign that they are very very old. And what is +more, near the place where these flint flakes come from there are no +flints in the ground for hundreds of miles; so that men must have brought +them there ages and ages since. And to tell you plainly, these are +scrapers such as the Esquimaux in North America still use to scrape the +flesh off bones, and to clean the insides of skins. + +But did these people (savages perhaps) live when the country was icy +cold? Look at the bits of bone. They have been split, you see, +lengthways; that, I suppose, was to suck the marrow out of them, as +savages do still. But to what animal do the bones belong? That is the +question, and one which I could not have answered you, if wiser men than +I am could not have told me. + +They are the bones of reindeer--such reindeer as are now found only in +Lapland and the half-frozen parts of North America, close to the Arctic +circle, where they have six months day and six months night. You have +read of Laplanders, and how they drive reindeer in their sledges, and +live upon reindeer milk; and you have read of Esquimaux, who hunt seals +and walrus, and live in houses of ice, lighted by lamps fed with the same +blubber on which they feed themselves. I need not tell you about them. + +Now comes the question--Whence did these flints and bones come? They +came out of a cave in Dordogne, in the heart of sunny France,--far away +to the south, where it is hotter every summer than it was here even this +summer, from among woods of box and evergreen oak, and vineyards of rich +red wine. In that warm land once lived savages, who hunted amid ice and +snow the reindeer, and with the reindeer animals stranger still. + +And now I will tell you a fairy tale: to make you understand it at all I +must put it in the shape of a tale. I call it a fairy tale, because it +is so strange; indeed I think I ought to call it the fairy tale of all +fairy tales, for by the time we get to the end of it I think it will +explain to you how our forefathers got to believe in fairies, and trolls, +and elves, and scratlings, and all strange little people who were said to +haunt the mountains and the caves. + +Well, once upon a time, so long ago that no man can tell when, the land +was so much higher, that between England and Ireland, and, what is more, +between England and Norway, was firm dry land. The country then must +have looked--at least we know it looked so in Norfolk--very like what our +moors look like here. There were forests of Scotch fir, and of spruce +too, which is not wild in England now, though you may see plenty in every +plantation. There were oaks and alders, yews and sloes, just as there +are in our woods now. There was buck-bean in the bogs, as there is in +Larmer's and Heath pond; and white and yellow water-lilies, horn-wort, +and pond-weeds, just as there are now in our ponds. There were wild +horses, wild deer, and wild oxen, those last of an enormous size. There +were little yellow roe-deer, which will not surprise you, for there are +hundreds and thousands in Scotland to this day; and, as you know, they +will thrive well enough in our woods now. There were beavers too: but +that must not surprise you, for there were beavers in South Wales long +after the Norman Conquest, and there are beavers still in the mountain +glens of the south-east of France. There were honest little water-rats +too, who I dare say sat up on their hind legs like monkeys, nibbling the +water-lily pods, thousands of years ago, as they do in our ponds now. +Well, so far we have come to nothing strange: but now begins the fairy +tale. Mixed with all these animals, there wandered about great herds of +elephants and rhinoceroses; not smooth-skinned, mind, but covered with +hair and wool, like those which are still found sticking out of the +everlasting ice cliffs, at the mouth of the Lena and other Siberian +rivers, with the flesh, and skin, and hair so fresh upon them, that the +wild wolves tear it off, and snarl and growl over the carcase of monsters +who were frozen up thousands of years ago. And with them, stranger +still, were great hippopotamuses; who came, perhaps, northward in summer +time along the sea-shore and down the rivers, having spread hither all +the way from Africa; for in those days, you must understand, Sicily, and +Italy, and Malta--look at your map--were joined to the coast of Africa: +and so it may be was the rock of Gibraltar itself; and over the sea where +the Straits of Gibraltar now flow was firm dry land, over which hyaenas +and leopards, elephants and rhinoceroses ranged into Spain; for their +bones are found at this day in the Gibraltar caves. And this is the +first chapter of my fairy tale. + +Now while all this was going on, and perhaps before this began, the +climate was getting colder year by year--we do not know how; and, what is +more, the land was sinking; and it sank so deep that at last nothing was +left out of the water but the tops of the mountains in Ireland, and +Scotland, and Wales. It sank so deep that it left beds of shells +belonging to the Arctic regions nearly two thousand feet high upon the +mountain side. And so + + "It grew wondrous cold, + And ice mast-high came floating by, + As green as emerald." + +But there were no masts then to measure the icebergs by, nor any ship nor +human being there. All we know is that the icebergs brought with them +vast quantities of mud, which sank to the bottom, and covered up that +pleasant old forest-land in what is called boulder-clay; clay full of +bits of broken rock, and of blocks of stone so enormous, that nothing but +an iceberg could have carried them. So all the animals were drowned or +driven away, and nothing was left alive perhaps, except a few little +hardy plants which clung about cracks and gullies in the mountain tops; +and whose descendants live there still. That was a dreadful time; the +worst, perhaps, of all the age of Ice; and so ends the second chapter of +my fairy tale. + +Now for my third chapter. "When things come to the worst," says the +proverb, "they commonly mend;" and so did this poor frozen and drowned +land of England and France and Germany, though it mended very slowly. The +land began to rise out of the sea once more, and rose till it was perhaps +as high as it had been at first, and hundreds of feet higher than it is +now: but still it was very cold, covered, in Scotland at least, with one +great sea of ice and glaciers descending down into the sea, as I said +when I spoke to you about the Ice-Plough. But as the land rose, and grew +warmer too, while it rose, the wild beasts who had been driven out by the +great drowning came gradually back again. As the bottom of the old icy +sea turned into dry land, and got covered with grasses, and weeds, and +shrubs once more, elephants, rhinoceroses, hippopotamuses, oxen--sometimes +the same species, sometimes slightly different ones--returned to France, +and then to England (for there was no British Channel then to stop them); +and with them came other strange animals, especially the great Irish elk, +as he is called, as large as the largest horse, with horns sometimes ten +feet across. A pair of those horns with the skull you have seen +yourself, and can judge what a noble animal he must have been. Enormous +bears came too, and hyaenas, and a tiger or lion (I cannot say which), as +large as the largest Bengal tiger now to be seen in India. + +And in those days--we cannot, of course, exactly say when--there +came--first I suppose into the south and east of France, and then +gradually onward into England and Scotland and Ireland--creatures without +any hair to keep them warm, or scales to defend them, without horns or +tusks to fight with, or teeth to worry and bite; the weakest you would +have thought of the beasts, and yet stronger than all the animals, +because they were Men, with reasonable souls. Whence they came we cannot +tell, nor why; perhaps from mere hunting after food, and love of +wandering and being independent and alone. Perhaps they came into that +icy land for fear of stronger and cleverer people than themselves; for we +have no proof, my child, none at all, that they were the first men that +trod this earth. But be that as it may, they came; and so cunning were +these savage men, and so brave likewise, though they had no iron among +them, only flint and sharpened bones, yet they contrived to kill and eat +the mammoths, and the giant oxen, and the wild horses, and the reindeer, +and to hold their own against the hyaenas, and tigers, and bears, simply +because they had wits, and the dumb animals had none. And that is the +strangest part to me of all my fairy tale. For what a man's wits are, +and why he has them, and therefore is able to invent and to improve, +while even the cleverest ape has none, and therefore can invent and +improve nothing, and therefore cannot better himself, but must remain +from father to son, and father to son again, a stupid, pitiful, +ridiculous ape, while men can go on civilising themselves, and growing +richer and more comfortable, wiser and happier, year by year--how that +comes to pass, I say, is to me a wonder and a prodigy and a miracle, +stranger than all the most fantastic marvels you ever read in fairy +tales. + +You may find the flint weapons which these old savages used buried in +many a gravel-pit up and down France and the south of England; but you +will find none here, for the gravel here was made (I am told) at the +beginning of the ice-time, before the north of England sunk into the sea, +and therefore long, long before men came into this land. But most of +their remains are found in caves which water has eaten out of the +limestone rocks, like that famous cave of Kent's Hole at Torquay. In it, +and in many another cave, lie the bones of animals which the savages ate, +and cracked to get the marrow out of them, mixed up with their +flint-weapons and bone harpoons, and sometimes with burnt ashes and with +round stones, used perhaps to heat water, as savages do now, all baked +together into a hard paste or breccia by the lime. These are in the +water, and are often covered with a floor of stalagmite which has dripped +from the roof above and hardened into stone. Of these caves and their +beautiful wonders I must tell you another day. We must keep now to our +fairy tale. But in these caves, no doubt, the savages lived; for not +only have weapons been found in them, but actually drawings scratched (I +suppose with flint) on bone or mammoth ivory--drawings of elk, and bull, +and horse, and ibex--and one, which was found in France, of the great +mammoth himself, the woolly elephant, with a mane on his shoulders like a +lion's mane. So you see that one of the earliest fancies of this strange +creature, called man, was to draw, as you and your schoolfellows love to +draw, and copy what you see, you know not why. Remember that. You like +to draw; but why you like it neither you nor any man can tell. It is one +of the mysteries of human nature; and that poor savage clothed in skins, +dirty it may be, and more ignorant than you (happily) can conceive, when +he sat scratching on ivory in the cave the figures of the animals he +hunted, was proving thereby that he had the same wonderful and mysterious +human nature as you--that he was the kinsman of every painter and +sculptor who ever felt it a delight and duty to copy the beautiful works +of God. + +Sometimes, again, especially in Denmark, these savages have left behind +upon the shore mounds of dirt, which are called there +"kjokken-moddings"--"kitchen-middens" as they would say in Scotland, +"kitchen-dirtheaps" as we should say here down South--and a very good +name for them that is; for they are made up of the shells of oysters, +cockles, mussels, and periwinkles, and other shore-shells besides, on +which those poor creatures fed; and mingled with them are broken bones of +beasts, and fishes, and birds, and flint knives, and axes, and sling +stones; and here and there hearths, on which they have cooked their meals +in some rough way. And that is nearly all we know about them; but this +we know from the size of certain of the shells, and from other reasons +which you would not understand, that these mounds were made an enormous +time ago, when the water of the Baltic Sea was far more salt than it is +now. + +But what has all this to do with my fairy tale? This:-- + +Suppose that these people, after all, had been fairies? + +I am in earnest. Of course, I do not mean that these folk could make +themselves invisible, or that they had any supernatural powers--any more, +at least, than you and I have--or that they were anything but savages; +but this I do think, that out of old stories of these savages grew up the +stories of fairies, elves, and trolls, and scratlings, and cluricaunes, +and ogres, of which you have read so many. + +When stronger and bolder people, like the Irish, and the Highlanders of +Scotland, and the Gauls of France, came northward with their bronze and +iron weapons; and still more, when our own forefathers, the Germans and +the Norsemen, came, these poor little savages with their flint arrows and +axes, were no match for them, and had to run away northward, or to be all +killed out; for people were fierce and cruel in those old times, and +looked on every one of a different race from themselves as a natural +enemy. They had not learnt--alas! too many have not learned it yet--that +all men are brothers for the sake of Jesus Christ our Lord. So these +poor savages were driven out, till none were left, save the little Lapps +up in the north of Norway, where they live to this day. + +But stories of them, and of how they dwelt in caves, and had strange +customs, and used poisoned weapons, and how the elf-bolts (as their flint +arrow-heads are still called) belonged to them, lingered on, and were +told round the fire on winter nights and added to, and played with half +in fun, till a hundred legends sprang up about them, which used once to +be believed by grown-up folk, but which now only amuse children. And +because some of these savages were very short, as the Lapps and Esquimaux +are now, the story grew of their being so small that they could make +themselves invisible; and because others of them were (but probably only +a few) very tall and terrible, the story grew that there were giants in +that old world, like that famous Gogmagog, whom Brutus and his Britons +met (so old fables tell), when they landed first at Plymouth, and fought +him, and threw him over the cliff. Ogres, too--of whom you read in fairy +tales--I am afraid that there were such people once, even here in Europe; +strong and terrible savages, who ate human beings. Of course, the +legends and tales about them became ridiculous and exaggerated as they +passed from mouth to mouth over the Christmas fire, in the days when no +one could read or write. But that the tales began by being true any one +may well believe who knows how many cannibal savages there are in the +world even now. I think that, if ever there was an ogre in the world, he +must have been very like a certain person who lived, or was buried, in a +cave in the Neanderthal, between Elberfeld and Dusseldorf, on the Lower +Rhine. The skull and bones which were found there (and which are very +famous now among scientific men) belonged to a personage whom I should +have been very sorry to meet, and still more to let you meet, in the wild +forest; to a savage of enormous strength of limb (and I suppose of jaw) +likewise + + "like an ape, + With forehead villainous low," + +who could have eaten you if he would; and (I fear) also would have eaten +you if he could. Such savages may have lingered (I believe, from the old +ballads and romances, that they did linger) for a long time in lonely +forests and mountain caves, till they were all killed out by warriors who +wore mail-armour and carried steel sword, and battle-axe, and lance. + +But had these people any religion? + +My dear child, we cannot know, and need not know. But we know this--that +God beholds all the heathen. He fashions the hearts of them, and +understandeth all their works. And we know also that He is just and +good. These poor folks were, I doubt not, happy enough in their way; and +we are bound to believe (for we have no proof against it), that most of +them were honest and harmless enough likewise. Of course, ogres and +cannibals, and cruel and brutal persons (if there were any among them), +deserved punishment--and punishment, I do not doubt, they got. But, of +course, again, none of them knew things which you know; but for that very +reason they were not bound to do many things which you are bound to do. +For those to whom little is given, of them shall little be required. What +their religion was like, or whether they had any religion at all, we +cannot tell. But this we can tell, that known unto God are all His works +from the creation of the world; and that His mercy is over all His works, +and He hateth nothing that He has made. These men and women, whatever +they were, were God's work; and therefore we may comfort ourselves with +the certainty that, whether or not they knew God, God knew them. + +And so ends my fairy tale. + +But is it not a wonderful tale? More wonderful, if you will think over +it, than any story invented by man. But so it always is. "Truth," wise +men tell us, "is stranger than fiction." Even a child like you will see +that it must be so, if you will but recollect who makes fiction, and who +makes facts. + +Man makes fiction: he invents stories, pretty enough, fantastical enough. +But out of what does he make them up? Out of a few things in this great +world which he has seen, and heard, and felt, just as he makes up his +dreams. But who makes truth? Who makes facts? Who, but God? + +Then truth is as much larger than fiction, as God is greater than man; as +much larger as the whole universe is larger than the little corner of it +that any man, even the greatest poet or philosopher, can see; and as much +grander, and as much more beautiful, and as much more strange. For one +is the whole, and the other is one, a few tiny scraps of the whole. The +one is the work of God; the other is the work of man. Be sure that no +man can ever fancy anything strange, unexpected, and curious, without +finding if he had eyes to see, a hundred things around his feet more +strange, more unexpected, more curious, actually ready-made already by +God. You are fond of fairy tales, because they are fanciful, and like +your dreams. My dear child, as your eyes open to the true fairy tale +which Madam How can tell you all day long, nursery stories will seem to +you poor and dull. All those feelings in you which your nursery tales +call out,--imagination, wonder, awe, pity, and I trust too, hope and +love--will be called out, I believe, by the Tale of all Tales, the true +"Marchen allen Marchen," so much more fully and strongly and purely, that +you will feel that novels and story-books are scarcely worth your +reading, as long as you can read the great green book, of which every bud +is a letter, and every tree a page. + +Wonder if you will. You cannot wonder too much. That you might wonder +all your life long, God put you into this wondrous world, and gave you +that faculty of wonder which he has not given to the brutes; which is at +once the mother of sound science, and a pledge of immortality in a world +more wondrous even than this. But wonder at the right thing, not at the +wrong; at the real miracles and prodigies, not at the sham. Wonder not +at the world of man. Waste not your admiration, interest, hope on it, +its pretty toys, gay fashions, fine clothes, tawdry luxuries, silly +amusements. Wonder at the works of God. You will not, perhaps, take my +advice yet. The world of man looks so pretty, that you will needs have +your peep at it, and stare into its shop windows; and if you can, go to a +few of its stage plays, and dance at a few of its balls. Ah--well--After +a wild dream comes an uneasy wakening; and after too many sweet things, +comes a sick headache. And one morning you will awake, I trust and pray, +from the world of man to the world of God, and wonder where wonder is +due, and worship where worship is due. You will awake like a child who +has been at a pantomime over night, staring at the "fairy halls," which +are all paint and canvas; and the "dazzling splendours," which are gas +and oil; and the "magic transformations," which are done with ropes and +pulleys; and the "brilliant elves," who are poor little children out of +the next foul alley; and the harlequin and clown, who through all their +fun are thinking wearily over the old debts which they must pay, and the +hungry mouths at home which they must feed: and so, having thought it all +wondrously glorious, and quite a fairy land, slips tired and stupid into +bed, and wakes next morning to see the pure light shining in through the +delicate frost-lace on the window-pane, and looks out over fields of +virgin snow, and watches the rosy dawn and cloudless blue, and the great +sun rising to the music of cawing rooks and piping stares, and says, +"This is the true wonder. This is the true glory. The theatre last +night was the fairy land of man; but this is the fairy land of God." + + + + +CHAPTER VII--THE CHALK-CARTS + + +What do you want to know about next? More about the caves in which the +old savages lived,--how they were made, and how the curious things inside +them got there, and so forth. + +Well, we will talk about that in good time: but now--What is that coming +down the hill? + +Oh, only some chalk-carts. + +Only some chalk-carts? It seems to me that these chalk-carts are the +very things we want; that if we follow them far enough--I do not mean +with our feet along the public road, but with our thoughts along a road +which, I am sorry to say, the public do not yet know much about--we shall +come to a cave, and understand how a cave is made. Meanwhile, do not be +in a hurry to say, "Only a chalk-cart," or only a mouse, or only a dead +leaf. Chalk-carts, like mice, and dead leaves, and most other matters in +the universe are very curious and odd things in the eyes of wise and +reasonable people. Whenever I hear young men saying "only" this and +"only" that, I begin to suspect them of belonging, not to the noble army +of sages--much less to the most noble army of martyrs,--but to the +ignoble army of noodles, who think nothing interesting or important but +dinners, and balls, and races, and back-biting their neighbours; and I +should be sorry to see you enlisting in that regiment when you grow up. +But think--are not chalk-carts very odd and curious things? I think they +are. To my mind, it is a curious question how men ever thought of +inventing wheels; and, again, when they first thought of it. It is a +curious question, too, how men ever found out that they could make horses +work for them, and so began to tame them, instead of eating them, and a +curious question (which I think we shall never get answered) when the +first horse-tamer lived, and in what country. And a very curious, and, +to me, a beautiful sight it is, to see those two noble horses obeying +that little boy, whom they could kill with a single kick. + +But, beside all this, there is a question, which ought to be a curious +one to you (for I suspect you cannot answer it)--Why does the farmer take +the trouble to send his cart and horses eight miles and more, to draw in +chalk from Odiham chalk-pit? + +Oh, he is going to put it on the land, of course. They are chalking the +bit at the top of the next field, where the copse was grubbed. + +But what good will he do by putting chalk on it? Chalk is not rich and +fertile, like manure, it is altogether poor, barren stuff: you know that, +or ought to know it. Recollect the chalk cuttings and banks on the +railway between Basingstoke and Winchester--how utterly barren they are. +Though they have been open these thirty years, not a blade of grass, +hardly a bit of moss, has grown on them, or will grow, perhaps, for +centuries. + +Come, let us find out something about the chalk before we talk about the +caves. The chalk is here, and the caves are not; and "Learn from the +thing that lies nearest you" is as good a rule as "Do the duty which lies +nearest you." Let us come into the grubbed bit, and ask the farmer--there +he is in his gig. + +Well, old friend, and how are you? Here is a little boy who wants to +know why you are putting chalk on your field. + +Does he then? If he ever tries to farm round here, he will have to learn +for his first rule--No chalk, no wheat. + +But why? + +Why, is more than I can tell, young squire. But if you want to see how +it comes about, look here at this freshly-grubbed land--how sour it is. +You can see that by the colour of it--some black, some red, some green, +some yellow, all full of sour iron, which will let nothing grow. After +the chalk has been on it a year or two, those colours will have all gone +out of it; and it will turn to a nice wholesome brown, like the rest of +the field; and then you will know that the land is sweet, and fit for any +crop. Now do you mind what I tell you, and then I'll tell you something +more. We put on the chalk because, beside sweetening the land, it will +hold water. You see, the land about here, though it is often very wet +from springs, is sandy and hungry; and when we drain the bottom water out +of it, the top water (that is, the rain) is apt to run through it too +fast: and then it dries and burns up; and we get no plant of wheat, nor +of turnips either. So we put on chalk to hold water, and keep the ground +moist. + +But how can these lumps of chalk hold water? They are not made like +cups. + +No: but they are made like sponges, which serves our turn better still. +Just take up that lump, young squire, and you'll see water enough in it, +or rather looking out of it, and staring you in the face. + +Why! one side of the lump is all over thick ice. + +So it is. All that water was inside the chalk last night, till it froze. +And then it came squeezing out of the holes in the chalk in strings, as +you may see it if you break the ice across. Now you may judge for +yourself how much water a load of chalk will hold, even on a dry summer's +day. And now, if you'll excuse me, sir, I must be off to market. + +Was it all true that the farmer said? + +Quite true, I believe. He is not a scientific man--that is, he does not +know the chemical causes of all these things; but his knowledge is sound +and useful, because it comes from long experience. He and his +forefathers, perhaps for a thousand years and more, have been farming +this country, reading Madam How's books with very keen eyes, +experimenting and watching, very carefully and rationally; making +mistakes often, and failing and losing their crops and their money; but +learning from their mistakes, till their empiric knowledge, as it is +called, helps them to grow sometimes quite as good crops as if they had +learned agricultural chemistry. + +What he meant by the chalk sweetening the land you would not understand +yet, and I can hardly tell you; for chemists are not yet agreed how it +happens. But he was right; and right, too, what he told you about the +water inside the chalk, which is more important to us just now; for, if +we follow it out, we shall surely come to a cave at last. + +So now for the water in the chalk. You can see now why the chalk-downs +at Winchester are always green, even in the hottest summer: because Madam +How has put under them her great chalk sponge. The winter rains soak +into it; and the summer heat draws that rain out of it again as invisible +steam, coming up from below, to keep the roots of the turf cool and moist +under the blazing sun. + +You love that short turf well. You love to run and race over the Downs +with your butterfly-net and hunt "chalk-hill blues," and "marbled +whites," and "spotted burnets," till you are hot and tired; and then to +sit down and look at the quiet little old city below, with the long +cathedral roof, and the tower of St. Cross, and the gray old walls and +buildings shrouded by noble trees, all embosomed among the soft rounded +lines of the chalk-hills; and then you begin to feel very thirsty, and +cry, "Oh, if there were but springs and brooks in the Downs, as there are +at home!" But all the hollows are as dry as the hill tops. There is not +a brook, or the mark of a watercourse, in one of them. You are like the +Ancient Mariner in the poem, with + + "Water, water, every where, + Nor any drop to drink." + +To get that you must go down and down, hundreds of feet, to the green +meadows through which silver Itchen glides toward the sea. There you +stand upon the bridge, and watch the trout in water so crystal-clear that +you see every weed and pebble as if you looked through air. If ever +there was pure water, you think, that is pure. Is it so? Drink some. +Wash your hands in it and try--You feel that the water is rough, hard (as +they call it), quite different from the water at home, which feels as +soft as velvet. What makes it so hard? + +Because it is full of invisible chalk. In every gallon of that water +there are, perhaps, fifteen grains of solid chalk, which was once inside +the heart of the hills above. Day and night, year after year, the chalk +goes down to the sea; and if there were such creatures as +water-fairies--if it were true, as the old Greeks and Romans thought, +that rivers were living things, with a Nymph who dwelt in each of them, +and was its goddess or its queen--then, if your ears were opened to hear +her, the Nymph of Itchen might say to you-- + +So child, you think that I do nothing but, as your sister says when she +sings Mr. Tennyson's beautiful song, + + "I chatter over stony ways, + In little sharps and trebles, + I bubble into eddying bays, + I babble on the pebbles." + +Yes. I do that: and I love, as the Nymphs loved of old, men who have +eyes to see my beauty, and ears to discern my song, and to fit their own +song to it, and tell how + + "'I wind about, and in and out, + With here a blossom sailing, + And here and there a lusty trout, + And here and there a grayling, + + "'And here and there a foamy flake + Upon me, as I travel + With many a silvery waterbreak + Above the golden gravel, + + "'And draw them all along, and flow + To join the brimming river, + For men may come and men may go, + But I go on for ever.'" + +Yes. That is all true: but if that were all, I should not be let to flow +on for ever, in a world where Lady Why rules, and Madam How obeys. I +only exist (like everything else, from the sun in heaven to the gnat +which dances in his beam) on condition of working, whether we wish it or +not, whether we know it or not. I am not an idle stream, only fit to +chatter to those who bathe or fish in my waters, or even to give poets +beautiful fancies about me. You little guess the work I do. For I am +one of the daughters of Madam How, and, like her, work night and day, we +know not why, though Lady Why must know. So day by day, and night by +night, while you are sleeping (for I never sleep), I carry, delicate and +soft as I am, a burden which giants could not bear: and yet I am never +tired. Every drop of rain which the south-west wind brings from the West +Indian seas gives me fresh life and strength to bear my burden; and it +has need to do so; for every drop of rain lays a fresh burden on me. +Every root and weed which grows in every field; every dead leaf which +falls in the highwoods of many a parish, from the Grange and Woodmancote +round to Farleigh and Preston, and so to Brighton and the Alresford +downs;--ay, every atom of manure which the farmers put on the land--foul +enough then, but pure enough before it touches me--each of these, giving +off a tiny atom of what men call carbonic acid, melts a tiny grain of +chalk, and helps to send it down through the solid hill by one of the +million pores and veins which at once feed and burden my springs. Ages +on ages I have worked on thus, carrying the chalk into the sea. And ages +on ages, it may be, I shall work on yet; till I have done my work at +last, and levelled the high downs into a flat sea-shore, with beds of +flint gravel rattling in the shallow waves. + +She might tell you that; and when she had told you, you would surely +think of the clumsy chalk-cart rumbling down the hill, and then of the +graceful stream, bearing silently its invisible load of chalk; and see +how much more delicate and beautiful, as well as vast and wonderful, +Madam How's work is than that of man. + +But if you asked the nymph why she worked on for ever, she could not tell +you. For like the Nymphs of old, and the Hamadryads who lived, in trees, +and Undine, and the little Sea-maiden, she would have no soul; no reason; +no power to say why. + +It is for you, who are a reasonable being, to guess why: or at least +listen to me if I guess for you, and say, perhaps--I can only say +perhaps--that chalk may be going to make layers of rich marl in the sea +between England and France; and those marl-beds may be upheaved and grow +into dry land, and be ploughed, and sowed, and reaped by a wiser race of +men, in a better-ordered world than this: or the chalk may have even a +nobler destiny before it. That may happen to it, which has happened +already to many a grain of lime. It may be carried thousands of miles +away to help in building up a coral reef (what that is I must tell you +afterwards). That coral reef may harden into limestone beds. Those beds +may be covered up, pressed, and, it may be, heated, till they crystallise +into white marble: and out of it fairer statues be carved, and grander +temples built, than the world has ever yet seen. + +And if that is not the reason why the chalk is being sent into the sea, +then there is another reason, and probably a far better one. For, as I +told you at first, Lady Why's intentions are far wiser and better than +our fancies; and she--like Him whom she obeys--is able to do exceeding +abundantly, beyond all that we can ask or think. + +But you will say now that we have followed the chalk-cart a long way, +without coming to the cave. + +You are wrong. We have come to the very mouth of the cave. All we have +to do is to say--not "Open Sesame," like Ali Baba in the tale of the +Forty Thieves--but some word or two which Madam Why will teach us, and +forthwith a hill will open, and we shall walk in, and behold rivers and +cascades underground, stalactite pillars and stalagmite statues, and all +the wonders of the grottoes of Adelsberg, Antiparos, or Kentucky. + +Am I joking? Yes, and yet no; for you know that when I joke I am usually +most in earnest. At least, I am now. + +But there are no caves in chalk? + +No, not that I ever heard of. There are, though, in limestone, which is +only a harder kind of chalk. Madam How could turn this chalk into hard +limestone, I believe, even now; and in more ways than one: but in ways +which would not be very comfortable or profitable for us Southern folk +who live on it. I am afraid that--what between squeezing and heating--she +would flatten us all out into phosphatic fossils, about an inch thick; +and turn Winchester city into a "breccia" which would puzzle geologists a +hundred thousand years hence. So we will hope that she will leave our +chalk downs for the Itchen to wash gently away, while we talk about +caves, and how Madam How scoops them out by water underground, just in +the same way, only more roughly, as she melts the chalk. + +Suppose, then, that these hills, instead of being soft, spongy chalk, +were all hard limestone marble, like that of which the font in the church +is made. Then the rainwater, instead of sinking through the chalk as +now, would run over the ground down-hill, and if it came to a crack (a +fault, as it is called) it would run down between the rock; and as it ran +it would eat that hole wider and wider year by year, and make a swallow- +hole--such as you may see in plenty if you ever go up Whernside, or any +of the high hills in Yorkshire--unfathomable pits in the green turf, in +which you may hear the water tinkling and trickling far, far underground. + +And now, before we go a step farther, you may understand, why the bones +of animals are so often found in limestone caves. Down such +swallow-holes how many beasts must fall: either in hurry and fright, when +hunted by lions and bears and such cruel beasts; or more often still in +time of snow, when the holes are covered with drift; or, again, if they +died on the open hill-sides, their bones might be washed in, in floods, +along with mud and stones, and buried with them in the cave below; and +beside that, lions and bears and hyaenas might live in the caves below, +as we know they did in some caves, and drag in bones through the caves' +mouths; or, again, savages might live in that cave, and bring in animals +to eat, like the wild beasts; and so those bones might be mixed up, as we +know they were, with things which the savages had left behind--like flint +tools or beads; and then the whole would be hardened, by the dripping of +the limestone water, into a paste of breccia just like this in my drawer. +But the bones of the savages themselves you would seldom or never find +mixed in it--unless some one had fallen in by accident from above. And +why? (For there is a Why? to that question: and not merely a How?) +Simply because they were men; and because God has put into the hearts of +all men, even of the lowest savages, some sort of reverence for those who +are gone; and has taught them to bury, or in some other way take care of, +their bones. + +But how is the swallow-hole sure to end in a cave? + +Because it cannot help making a cave for itself if it has time. + +Think: and you will see that it must be so. For that water must run +somewhere; and so it eats its way out between the beds of the rock, +making underground galleries, and at last caves and lofty halls. For it +always eats, remember, at the bottom of its channel, leaving the roof +alone. So it eats, and eats, more in some places and less in others, +according as the stone is harder or softer, and according to the +different direction of the rock-beds (what we call their dip and strike); +till at last it makes one of those wonderful caverns about which you are +so fond of reading--such a cave as there actually is in the rocks of the +mountain of Whernside, fed by the swallow-holes around the mountain-top; +a cave hundreds of yards long, with halls, and lakes, and waterfalls, and +curtains and festoons of stalactite which have dripped from the roof, and +pillars of stalagmite which have been built up on the floor below. These +stalactites (those tell me who have seen them) are among the most +beautiful of all Madam How's work; sometimes like branches of roses or of +grapes; sometimes like statues; sometimes like delicate curtains, and I +know not what other beautiful shapes. I have never seen them, I am sorry +to say, and therefore I cannot describe them. But they are all made in +the same way; just in the same way as those little straight stalactites +which you may have seen hanging, like icicles, in vaulted cellars, or +under the arches of a bridge. The water melts more lime than it can +carry, and drops some of it again, making fresh limestone grain by grain +as it drips from the roof above; and fresh limestone again where it +splashes on the floor below: till if it dripped long enough, the +stalactite hanging from above would meet the stalagmite rising from +below, and join in one straight round white graceful shaft, which would +seem (but only seem) to support the roof of the cave. And out of that +cave--though not always out of the mouth of it--will run a stream of +water, which seems to you clear as crystal, though it is actually, like +the Itchen at Winchester, full of lime; so full of lime, that it makes +beds of fresh limestone, which are called travertine--which you may see +in Italy, and Greece, and Asia Minor: or perhaps it petrifies, as you +call it, the weeds in its bed, like that dropping-well at Knaresborough, +of which you have often seen a picture. And the cause is this: the water +is so full of lime, that it is forced to throw away some of it upon +everything it touches, and so incrusts with stone--though it does not +turn to stone--almost anything you put in it. You have seen, or ought to +have seen, petrified moss and birds' nests and such things from +Knaresborough Well: and now you know a little, though only a very little, +of how the pretty toys are made. + +Now if you can imagine for yourself (though I suppose a little boy +cannot) the amount of lime which one of these subterranean rivers would +carry away, gnawing underground centuries after centuries, day and night, +summer and winter, then you will not be surprised at the enormous size of +caverns which may be seen in different parts of the world--but always, I +believe, in limestone rock. You would not be surprised (though you would +admire them) at the caverns of Adelsberg, in Carniola (in the south of +Austria, near the top of the Adriatic), which runs, I believe, for miles +in length; and in the lakes of which, in darkness from its birth until +its death, lives that strange beast, the Proteus a sort of long newt +which never comes to perfection--I suppose for want of the genial +sunlight which makes all things grow. But he is blind; and more, he +keeps all his life the same feathery gills which newts have when they are +babies, and which we have so often looked at through the microscope, to +see the blood-globules run round and round inside. You would not wonder, +either, at the Czirknitz Lake, near the same place, which at certain +times of the year vanishes suddenly through chasms under water, sucking +the fish down with it; and after a certain time boils suddenly up again +from the depths, bringing back with it the fish, who have been swimming +comfortably all the time in a subterranean lake; and bringing back, too +(and, extraordinary as this story is, there is good reason to believe it +true), live wild ducks who went down small and unfledged, and come back +full-grown and fat, with water-weeds and small fish in their stomachs, +showing they have had plenty to feed on underground. But--and this is +the strangest part of the story, if true--they come up unfledged just as +they went down, and are moreover blind from having been so long in +darkness. After a while, however, folks say their eyes get right, their +feathers grow, and they fly away like other birds. + +Neither would you be surprised (if you recollect that Madam How is a very +old lady indeed, and that some of her work is very old likewise) at that +Mammoth Cave in Kentucky, the largest cave in the known world, through +which you may walk nearly ten miles on end, and in which a hundred miles +of gallery have been explored already, and yet no end found to the cave. +In it (the guides will tell you) there are "226 avenues, 47 domes, 8 +cataracts, 23 pits, and several rivers;" and if that fact is not very +interesting to you (as it certainly is not to me) I will tell you +something which ought to interest you: that this cave is so immensely old +that various kinds of little animals, who have settled themselves in the +outer parts of it, have had time to change their shape, and to become +quite blind; so that blind fathers and mothers have blind children, +generation after generation. + +There are blind rats there, with large shining eyes which cannot +see--blind landcrabs, who have the foot-stalks of their eyes (you may see +them in any crab) still left; but the eyes which should be on the top of +them are gone. There are blind fish, too, in the cave, and blind +insects; for, if they have no use for their eyes in the dark, why should +Madam How take the trouble to finish them off? + +One more cave I must tell you of, to show you how old some caves must be, +and then I must stop; and that is the cave of Caripe, in Venezuela, which +is the most northerly part of South America. There, in the face of a +limestone cliff, crested with enormous flowering trees, and festooned +with those lovely creepers of which you have seen a few small ones in +hothouses, there opens an arch as big as the west front of Winchester +Cathedral, and runs straight in like a cathedral nave for more than 1400 +feet. Out of it runs a stream; and along the banks of that stream, as +far as the sunlight strikes in, grow wild bananas, and palms, and lords +and ladies (as you call them), which are not, like ours, one foot, but +many feet high. Beyond that the cave goes on, with subterranean streams, +cascades, and halls, no man yet knows how far. A friend of mine last +year went in farther, I believe, than any one yet has gone; but, instead +of taking Indian torches made of bark and resin, or even torches made of +Spanish wax, such as a brave bishop of those parts used once when he went +in farther than any one before him, he took with him some of that +beautiful magnesium light which you have seen often here at home. And in +one place, when he lighted up the magnesium, he found himself in a hall +full 300 feet high--higher far, that is, than the dome of St. Paul's--and +a very solemn thought it was to him, he said, that he had seen what no +other human being ever had seen; and that no ray of light had ever struck +on that stupendous roof in all the ages since the making of the world. +But if he found out something which he did not expect, he was +disappointed in something which he did expect. For the Indians warned +him of a hole in the floor which (they told him) was an unfathomable +abyss. And lo and behold, when he turned the magnesium light upon it, +the said abyss was just about eight feet deep. But it is no wonder that +the poor Indians with their little smoky torches should make such +mistakes; no wonder, too, that they should be afraid to enter far into +those gloomy vaults; that they should believe that the souls of their +ancestors live in that dark cave; and that they should say that when they +die they will go to the Guacharos, as they call the birds that fly with +doleful screams out of the cave to feed at night, and in again at +daylight, to roost and sleep. + +Now, it is these very Guacharo birds which are to me the most wonderful +part of the story. The Indians kill and eat them for their fat, although +they believe they have to do with evil spirits. But scientific men who +have studied these birds will tell you that they are more wonderful than +if all the Indians' fancies about them were true. They are great birds, +more than three feet across the wings, somewhat like owls, somewhat like +cuckoos, somewhat like goatsuckers; but, on the whole, unlike anything in +the world but themselves; and instead of feeding on moths or mice, they +feed upon hard dry fruits, which they pick off the trees after the set of +sun. And wise men will tell you, that in making such a bird as that, and +giving it that peculiar way of life, and settling it in that cavern, and +a few more caverns in that part of the world, and therefore in making the +caverns ready for them to live in, Madam How must have taken ages and +ages, more than you can imagine or count. + +But that is among the harder lessons which come in the latter part of +Madam How's book. Children need not learn them yet; and they can never +learn them, unless they master her alphabet, and her short and easy +lessons for beginners, some of which I am trying to teach you now. + +But I have just recollected that we are a couple of very stupid fellows. +We have been talking all this time about chalk and limestone, and have +forgotten to settle what they are, and how they were made. We must think +of that next time. It will not do for us (at least if we mean to be +scientific men) to use terms without defining them; in plain English, to +talk about--we don't know what. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII--MADAM HOW'S TWO GRANDSONS + + +You want to know, then, what chalk is? I suppose you mean what chalk is +made of? + +Yes. That is it. + +That we can only help by calling in the help of a very great giant whose +name is Analysis. + +A giant? + +Yes. And before we call for him I will tell you a very curious story +about him and his younger brother, which is every word of it true. + +Once upon a time, certainly as long ago as the first man, or perhaps the +first rational being of any kind, was created, Madam How had two +grandsons. The elder is called Analysis, and the younger Synthesis. As +for who their father and mother were, there have been so many disputes on +that question that I think children may leave it alone for the present. +For my part, I believe that they are both, like St. Patrick, "gentlemen, +and come of decent people;" and I have a great respect and affection for +them both, as long as each keeps in his own place and minds his own +business. + +Now you must understand that, as soon as these two baby giants were born, +Lady Why, who sets everything to do that work for which it is exactly +fitted, set both of them their work. Analysis was to take to pieces +everything he found, and find out how it was made. Synthesis was to put +the pieces together again, and make something fresh out of them. In a +word, Analysis was to teach men Science; and Synthesis to teach them Art. + +But because Analysis was the elder, Madam How commanded Synthesis never +to put the pieces together till Analysis had taken them completely apart. +And, my child, if Synthesis had obeyed that rule of his good old +grandmother's, the world would have been far happier, wealthier, wiser, +and better than it is now. + +But Synthesis would not. He grew up a very noble boy. He could carve, +he could paint, he could build, he could make music, and write poems: but +he was full of conceit and haste. Whenever his elder brother tried to do +a little patient work in taking things to pieces, Synthesis snatched the +work out of his hands before it was a quarter done, and began putting it +together again to suit his own fancy, and, of course, put it together +wrong. Then he went on to bully his elder brother, and locked him up in +prison, and starved him, till for many hundred years poor Analysis never +grew at all, but remained dwarfed, and stupid, and all but blind for want +of light; while Synthesis, and all the hasty conceited people who +followed him, grew stout and strong and tyrannous, and overspread the +whole world, and ruled it at their will. But the fault of all the work +of Synthesis was just this: that it would not work. His watches would +not keep time, his soldiers would not fight, his ships would not sail, +his houses would not keep the rain out. So every time he failed in his +work he had to go to poor Analysis in his dungeon, and bully him into +taking a thing or two to pieces, and giving him a few sound facts out of +them, just to go on with till he came to grief again, boasting in the +meantime that he and not Analysis had found out the facts. And at last +he grew so conceited that he fancied he knew all that Madam How could +teach him, or Lady Why either, and that he understood all things in +heaven and earth; while it was not the real heaven and earth that he was +thinking of, but a sham heaven and a sham earth, which he had built up +out of his guesses and his own fancies. + +And the more Synthesis waxed in pride, and the more he trampled upon his +poor brother, the more reckless he grew, and the more willing to deceive +himself. If his real flowers would not grow, he cut out paper flowers, +and painted them and said that they would do just as well as natural +ones. If his dolls would not work, he put strings and wires behind them +to make them nod their heads and open their eyes, and then persuaded +other people, and perhaps half-persuaded himself, that they were alive. +If the hand of his weather-glass went down, he nailed it up to insure a +fine day, and tortured, burnt, or murdered every one who said it did not +keep up of itself. And many other foolish and wicked things he did, +which little boys need not hear of yet. + +But at last his punishment came, according to the laws of his +grandmother, Madam How, which are like the laws of the Medes and +Persians, and alter not, as you and all mankind will sooner or later +find; for he grew so rich and powerful that he grew careless and lazy, +and thought about nothing but eating and drinking, till people began to +despise him more and more. And one day he left the dungeon of Analysis +so ill guarded, that Analysis got out and ran away. Great was the hue +and cry after him; and terribly would he have been punished had he been +caught. But, lo and behold, folks had grown so disgusted with Synthesis +that they began to take the part of Analysis. Poor men hid him in their +cottages, and scholars in their studies. And when war arose about +him,--and terrible wars did arise,--good kings, wise statesmen, gallant +soldiers, spent their treasure and their lives in fighting for him. All +honest folk welcomed him, because he was honest; and all wise folk used +him, for, instead of being a conceited tyrant like Synthesis, he showed +himself the most faithful, diligent, humble of servants, ready to do +every man's work, and answer every man's questions. And among them all +he got so well fed that he grew very shortly into the giant that he ought +to have been all along; and was, and will be for many a year to come, +perfectly able to take care of himself. + +As for poor Synthesis, he really has fallen so low in these days, that +one cannot but pity him. He now goes about humbly after his brother, +feeding on any scraps that are thrown to him, and is snubbed and rapped +over the knuckles, and told one minute to hold his tongue and mind his +own business, and the next that he has no business at all to mind, till +he has got into such a poor way that some folks fancy he will die, and +are actually digging his grave already, and composing his epitaph. But +they are trying to wear the bear's skin before the bear is killed; for +Synthesis is not dead, nor anything like it; and he will rise up again +some day, to make good friends with his brother Analysis, and by his help +do nobler and more beautiful work than he has ever yet done in the world. + +So now Analysis has got the upper hand; so much so that he is in danger +of being spoilt by too much prosperity, as his brother was before him; in +which case he too will have his fall; and a great deal of good it will do +him. And that is the end of my story, and a true story it is. + +Now you must remember, whenever you have to do with him, that Analysis, +like fire, is a very good servant, but a very bad master. For, having +got his freedom only of late years or so, he is, like young men when they +come suddenly to be their own masters, apt to be conceited, and to fancy +that he knows everything, when really he knows nothing, and can never +know anything, but only knows about things, which is a very different +matter. Indeed, nowadays he pretends that he can teach his old +grandmother, Madam How, not only how to suck eggs, but to make eggs into +the bargain; while the good old lady just laughs at him kindly, and lets +him run on, because she knows he will grow wiser in time, and learn +humility by his mistakes and failures, as I hope you will from yours. + +However, Analysis is a very clever young giant, and can do wonderful work +as long as he meddles only with dead things, like this bit of lime. He +can take it to pieces, and tell you of what things it is made, or seems +to be made; and take them to pieces again, and tell you what each of them +is made of; and so on, till he gets conceited, and fancies that he can +find out some one Thing of all things (which he calls matter), of which +all other things are made; and some Way of all ways (which he calls +force), by which all things are made: but when he boasts in that way, old +Madam How smiles, and says, "My child, before you can say that, you must +remember a hundred things which you are forgetting, and learn a hundred +thousand things which you do not know;" and then she just puts her hand +over his eyes, and Master Analysis begins groping in the dark, and +talking the saddest nonsense. So beware of him, and keep him in his own +place, and to his own work, or he will flatter you, and get the mastery +of you, and persuade you that he can teach you a thousand things of which +he knows no more than he does why a duck's egg never hatches into a +chicken. And remember, if Master Analysis ever grows saucy and conceited +with you, just ask him that last riddle, and you will shut him up at +once. + +And why? + +Because Analysis can only explain to you a little about dead things, like +stones--inorganic things as they are called. Living things--organisms, +as they are called--he cannot explain to you at all. When he meddles +with them, he always ends like the man who killed his goose to get the +golden eggs. He has to kill his goose, or his flower, or his insect, +before he can analyse it; and then it is not a goose, but only the corpse +of a goose; not a flower, but only the dead stuff of the flower. + +And therefore he will never do anything but fail, when he tries to find +out the life in things. How can he, when he has to take the life out of +them first? He could not even find out how a plum-pudding is made by +merely analysing it. He might part the sugar, and the flour, and the +suet; he might even (for he is very clever, and very patient too, the +more honour to him) take every atom of sugar out of the flour with which +it had got mixed, and every atom of brown colour which had got out of the +plums and currants into the body of the pudding, and then, for aught I +know, put the colouring matter back again into the plums and currants; +and then, for aught I know, turn the boiled pudding into a raw one +again,--for he is a great conjurer, as Madam How's grandson is bound to +be: but yet he would never find out how the pudding was made, unless some +one told him the great secret which the sailors in the old story +forgot--that the cook boiled it in a cloth. + +This is Analysis's weak point--don't let it be yours--that in all his +calculations he is apt to forget the cloth, and indeed the cook likewise. +No doubt he can analyse the matter of things: but he will keep forgetting +that he cannot analyse their form. + +Do I mean their shape? + +No, my child; no. I mean something which makes the shape of things, and +the matter of them likewise, but which folks have lost sight of nowadays, +and do not seem likely to get sight of again for a few hundred years. So +I suppose that you need not trouble your head about it, but may just +follow the fashions as long as they last. + +About this piece of lime, however, Analysis can tell us a great deal. And +we may trust what he says, and believe that he understands what he says. + +Why? + +Think now. If you took your watch to pieces, you would probably spoil it +for ever; you would have perhaps broken, and certainly mislaid, some of +the bits; and not even a watchmaker could put it together again. You +would have analysed the watch wrongly. But if a watchmaker took it to +pieces then any other watchmaker could put it together again to go as +well as ever, because they both understand the works, how they fit into +each other, and what the use and the power of each is. Its being put +together again rightly would be a proof that it had been taken to pieces +rightly. + +And so with Master Analysis. If he can take a thing to pieces so that +his brother Synthesis can put it together again, you may be sure that he +has done his work rightly. + +Now he can take a bit of chalk to pieces, so that it shall become several +different things, none of which is chalk, or like chalk at all. And then +his brother Synthesis can put them together again, so that they shall +become chalk, as they were before. He can do that very nearly, but not +quite. There is, in every average piece of chalk, something which he +cannot make into chalk again when he has once unmade it. + +What that is I will show you presently; and a wonderful tale hangs +thereby. But first we will let Analysis tell us what chalk is made of, +as far as he knows. + +He will say--Chalk is carbonate of lime. + +But what is carbonate of lime made of? + +Lime and carbonic acid. + +And what is lime? + +The oxide of a certain metal, called calcium. + +What do you mean? + +That quicklime is a certain metal mixed with oxygen gas; and slacked lime +is the same, mixed with water. + +So lime is a metal. What is a metal? Nobody knows. + +And what is oxygen gas? Nobody knows. + +Well, Analysis, stops short very soon. He does not seem to know much +about the matter. + +Nay, nay, you are wrong there. It is just "about the matter" that he +does know, and knows a great deal, and very accurately; what he does not +know is the matter itself. He will tell you wonderful things about +oxygen gas--how the air is full of it, the water full of it, every living +thing full of it; how it changes hard bright steel into soft, foul rust; +how a candle cannot burn without it, or you live without it. But what it +is he knows not. + +Will he ever know? + +That is Lady Why's concern, and not ours. Meanwhile he has a right to +find out if he can. But what do you want to ask him next? + +What? Oh! What carbonic acid is. He can tell you that. Carbon and +oxygen gas. + +But what is carbon? + +Nobody knows. + +Why, here is this stupid Analysis at fault again. + +Nay, nay, again. Be patient with him. If he cannot tell you what carbon +is, he can tell you what is carbon, which is well worth knowing. He will +tell you, for instance, that every time you breathe or speak, what comes +out of your mouth is carbonic acid; and that, if your breath comes on a +bit of slacked lime, it will begin to turn it back into the chalk from +which it was made; and that, if your breath comes on the leaves of a +growing plant, that leaf will take the carbon out of it, and turn it into +wood. And surely that is worth knowing,--that you may be helping to make +chalk, or to make wood, every time you breathe. + +Well; that is very curious. + +But now, ask him, What is carbon? And he will tell you, that many things +are carbon. A diamond is carbon; and so is blacklead; and so is charcoal +and coke, and coal in part, and wood in part. + +What? Does Analysis say that a diamond and charcoal are the same thing? + +Yes. + +Then his way of taking things to pieces must be a very clumsy one, if he +can find out no difference between diamond and charcoal. + +Well, perhaps it is: but you must remember that, though he is very old--as +old as the first man who ever lived--he has only been at school for the +last three hundred years or so. And remember, too, that he is not like +you, who have some one else to teach you. He has had to teach himself, +and find out for himself, and make his own tools, and work in the dark +besides. And I think it is very much to his credit that he ever found +out that diamond and charcoal were the same things. You would never have +found it out for yourself, you will agree. + +No: but how did he do it? + +He taught a very famous chemist, Lavoisier, about ninety years ago, how +to burn a diamond in oxygen--and a very difficult trick that is; and +Lavoisier found that the diamond when burnt turned almost entirely into +carbonic acid and water, as blacklead and charcoal do; and more, that +each of them turned into the same quantity of carbonic acid, And so he +knew, as surely as man can know anything, that all these things, however +different to our eyes and fingers, are really made of the same +thing,--pure carbon. + +But what makes them look and feel so different? + +That Analysis does not know yet. Perhaps he will find out some day; for +he is very patient, and very diligent, as you ought to be. Meanwhile, be +content with him: remember that though he cannot see through a milestone +yet, he can see farther into one than his neighbours. Indeed his +neighbours cannot see into a milestone at all, but only see the outside +of it, and know things only by rote, like parrots, without understanding +what they mean and how they are made. + +So now remember that chalk is carbonate of lime, and that it is made up +of three things, calcium, oxygen, and carbon; and that therefore its mark +is CaCO(3), in Analysis's language, which I hope you will be able to read +some day. + +But how is it that Analysis and Synthesis cannot take all this chalk to +pieces, and put it together again? + +Look here; what is that in the chalk? + +Oh! a shepherd's crown, such as we often find in the gravel, only fresh +and white. + +Well; you know what that was once. I have often told you:--a live sea- +egg, covered with prickles, which crawls at the bottom of the sea. + +Well, I am sure that Master Synthesis could not put that together again: +and equally sure that Master Analysis might spend ages in taking it to +pieces, before he found out how it was made. And--we are lucky to-day, +for this lower chalk to the south has very few fossils in it--here is +something else which is not mere carbonate of lime. Look at it. + +A little cockle, something like a wrinkled hazel-nut. + +No; that is no cockle. Madam How invented that ages and ages before she +thought of cockles, and the animal which lived inside that shell was as +different from a cockle-animal as a sparrow is from a dog. That is a +Terebratula, a gentleman of a very ancient and worn-out family. He and +his kin swarmed in the old seas, even as far back as the time when the +rocks of the Welsh mountains were soft mud; as you will know when you +read that great book of Sir Roderick Murchison's, _Siluria_. But as the +ages rolled on, they got fewer and fewer, these Terebratulae; and now +there are hardly any of them left; only six or seven sorts are left about +these islands, which cling to stones in deep water; and the first time I +dredged two of them out of Loch Fyne, I looked at them with awe, as on +relics from another world, which had lasted on through unnumbered ages +and changes, such as one's fancy could not grasp. + +But you will agree that, if Master Analysis took that shell to pieces, +Master Synthesis would not be likely to put it together again; much less +to put it together in the right way, in which Madam How made it. + +And what was that? + +By making a living animal, which went on growing, that is, making itself; +and making, as it grew, its shell to live in. Synthesis has not found +out yet the first step towards doing that; and, as I believe, he never +will. + +But there would be no harm in his trying? + +Of course not. Let everybody try to do everything they fancy. Even if +they fail, they will have learnt at least that they cannot do it. + +But now--and this is a secret which you would never find out for +yourself, at least without the help of a microscope--the greater part of +this lump of chalk is made up of things which neither Analysis can +perfectly take to pieces, nor Synthesis put together again. It is made +of dead organisms, that is, things which have been made by living +creatures. If you washed and brushed that chalk into powder, you would +find it full of little things like the Dentalina in this drawing, and +many other curious forms. I will show you some under the microscope one +day. + +They are the shells of animals called Foraminifera, because the shells of +some of them are full of holes, through which they put out tiny arms. So +small they are and so many, that there may be, it is said, forty thousand +of them in a bit of chalk an inch every way. In numbers past counting, +some whole, some broken, some ground to the finest powder, they make up +vast masses of England, which are now chalk downs; and in some foreign +countries they make up whole mountains. Part of the building stone of +the Great Pyramid in Egypt is composed, I am told, entirely of them. + +And how did they get into the chalk? + +Ah! How indeed? Let us think. The chalk must have been laid down at +the bottom of a sea, because there are sea-shells in it. Besides, we +find little atomies exactly like these alive now in many seas; and +therefore it is fair to suppose these lived in the sea also. + +Besides, they were not washed into the chalk by any sudden flood. The +water in which they settled must have been quite still, or these little +delicate creatures would have been ground into powder--or rather into +paste. Therefore learned men soon made up their minds that these things +were laid down at the bottom of a deep sea, so deep that neither wind, +nor tide, nor currents could stir the everlasting calm. + +Ah! it is worth thinking over, for it shows how shrewd a giant Analysis +is, and how fast he works in these days, now that he has got free and +well fed;--worth thinking over, I say, how our notions about these little +atomies have changed during the last forty years. + +We used to find them sometimes washed up among the sea-sand on the wild +Atlantic coast; and we were taught, in the days when old Dr. Turton was +writing his book on British shells at Bideford, to call them Nautili, +because their shells were like Nautilus shells. Men did not know then +that the animal which lives in them is no more like a Nautilus animal +than it is like a cow. + +For a Nautilus, you must know, is made like a cuttlefish, with eyes, and +strong jaws for biting, and arms round them; and has a heart, and gills, +and a stomach; and is altogether a very well-made beast, and, I suspect, +a terrible tyrant to little fish and sea-slugs, just as the cuttlefish +is. But the creatures which live in these little shells are about the +least finished of Madam How's works. They have neither mouth nor +stomach, eyes nor limbs. They are mere live bags full of jelly, which +can take almost any shape they like, and thrust out arms--or what serve +for arms--through the holes in their shells, and then contract them into +themselves again, as this Globigerina does. What they feed on, how they +grow, how they make their exquisitely-formed shells, whether, indeed, +they are, strictly speaking, animals or vegetables, Analysis has not yet +found out. But when you come to read about them, you will find that +they, in their own way, are just as wonderful and mysterious as a +butterfly or a rose; and just as necessary, likewise, to Madam How's +work; for out of them, as I told you, she makes whole sheets of down, +whole ranges of hills. + +No one knew anything, I believe, about them, save that two or three kinds +of them were found in chalk, till a famous Frenchman, called D'Orbigny, +just thirty years ago, told the world how he had found many beautiful +fresh kinds; and, more strange still, that some of these kinds were still +alive at the bottom of the Adriatic, and of the harbour of Alexandria, in +Egypt. + +Then in 1841 a gentleman named Edward Forbes,--now with God--whose name +will be for ever dear to all who love science, and honour genius and +virtue,--found in the AEgean Sea "a bed of chalk," he said, "full of +Foraminifera, and shells of Pteropods," forming at the bottom of the sea. + +And what are Pteropods? + +What you might call sea-moths (though they are not really moths), which +swim about on the surface of the water, while the right-whales suck them +in tens of thousands into the great whalebone net which fringes their +jaws. Here are drawings of them. 1. Limacina (on which the whales +feed); and 2. Hyalea, a lovely little thing in a glass shell, which lives +in the Mediterranean. + +But since then strange discoveries have been made, especially by the +naval officers who surveyed the bottom of the great Atlantic Ocean before +laying down the electric cable between Ireland and America. And this is +what they found: + +That at the bottom of the Atlantic were vast plains of soft mud, in some +places 2500 fathoms (15,000 feet) deep; that is, as deep as the Alps are +high. And more: they found out, to their surprise, that the oozy mud of +the Atlantic floor was made up almost entirely of just the same atomies +as make up our chalk, especially globigerinas; that, in fact, a vast bed +of chalk was now forming at the bottom of the Atlantic, with living +shells and sea-animals of the most brilliant colours crawling about on it +in black darkness, and beds of sponges growing out of it, just as the +sponges grew at the bottom of the old chalk ocean, and were all, +generation after generation, turned into flints. + +And, for reasons which you will hardly understand, men are beginning now +to believe that the chalk has never ceased to be made, somewhere or +other, for many thousand years, ever since the Winchester Downs were at +the bottom of the sea: and that "the Globigerina-mud is not merely _a_ +chalk formation, but a continuation of _the_ chalk formation, so _that we +may be said to be still living in the age of Chalk_." {1} Ah, my little +man, what would I not give to see you, before I die, add one such thought +as that to the sum of human knowledge! + +So there the little creatures have been lying, making chalk out of the +lime in the sea-water, layer over layer, the young over the old, the dead +over the living, year after year, age after age--for how long? + +Who can tell? How deep the layer of new chalk at the bottom of the +Atlantic is, we can never know. But the layer of live atomies on it is +not an inch thick, probably not a tenth of an inch. And if it grew a +tenth of an inch a year, or even a whole inch, how many years must it +have taken to make the chalk of our downs, which is in some parts 1300 +feet thick? How many inches are there in 1300 feet? Do that sum, and +judge for yourself. + +One difference will be found between the chalk now forming at the bottom +of the ocean, if it ever become dry land, and the chalk on which you +tread on the downs. The new chalk will be full of the teeth and bones of +whales--warm-blooded creatures, who suckle their young like cows, instead +of laying eggs, like birds and fish. For there were no whales in the old +chalk ocean; but our modern oceans are full of cachalots, porpoises, +dolphins, swimming in shoals round any ship; and their bones and teeth, +and still more their ear-bones, will drop to the bottom as they die, and +be found, ages hence, in the mud which the live atomies make, along with +wrecks of mighty ships + + "Great anchors, heaps of pearl," + +and all that man has lost in the deep seas. And sadder fossils yet, my +child, will be scattered on those white plains:-- + + "To them the love of woman hath gone down, + Dark roll their waves o'er manhood's noble head. + O'er youth's bright locks, and beauty's flowing crown; + Yet shall they hear a voice, 'Restore the dead.' + Earth shall reclaim her precious things from thee. + Give back the dead, thou Sea!" + + + + +CHAPTER IX--THE CORAL-REEF + + +Now you want to know what I meant when I talked of a bit of lime going +out to sea, and forming part of a coral island, and then of a limestone +rock, and then of a marble statue. Very good. Then look at this stone. + +What a curious stone! Did it come from any place near here? + +No. It came from near Dudley, in Staffordshire, where the soils are +worlds on worlds older than they are here, though they were made in the +same way as these and all other soils. But you are not listening to me. + +Why, the stone is full of shells, and bits of coral; and what are these +wonderful things coiled and tangled together, like the snakes in Medusa's +hair in the picture? Are they snakes? + +If they are, then they must be snakes who have all one head; for see, +they are joined together at their larger ends; and snakes which are +branched, too, which no snake ever was. + +Yes. I suppose they are not snakes. And they grow out of a flower, too; +and it has a stalk, jointed, too, as plants sometimes are; and as fishes' +backbones are too. Is it a petrified plant or flower? + +No; though I do not deny that it looks like one. The creature most akin +to it which you ever saw is a star-fish. + +What! one of the red star-fishes which one finds on the beach? Its arms +are not branched. + +No. But there are star-fishes with branched arms still in the sea. You +know that pretty book (and learned book, too), Forbes's _British Star- +fishes_? You like to look it through for the sake of the vignettes,--the +mermaid and her child playing in the sea. + +Oh yes, and the kind bogie who is piping while the sandstars dance; and +the other who is trying to pull out the star-fish which the oyster has +caught. + +Yes. But do you recollect the drawing of the Medusa's head, with its +curling arms, branched again and again without end? Here it is. No, you +shall not look at the vignettes now. We must mind business. Now look at +this one; the Feather-star, with arms almost like fern-fronds. And in +foreign seas there are many other branched star-fish beside. + +But they have no stalks? + +Do not be too sure of that. This very feather-star, soon after it is +born, grows a tiny stalk, by which it holds on to corallines and +sea-weeds; and it is not till afterwards that it breaks loose from that +stalk, and swims away freely into the wide water. And in foreign seas +there are several star-fish still who grow on stalks all their lives, as +this fossil one did. + +How strange that a live animal should grow on a stalk, like a flower! + +Not quite like a flower. A flower has roots, by which it feeds in the +soil. These things grow more like sea-weeds, which have no roots, but +only hold on to the rock by the foot of the stalk, as a ship holds on by +her anchor. But as for its being strange that live animals should grow +on stalks, if it be strange it is common enough, like many far stranger +things. For under the water are millions on millions of creatures, +spreading for miles on miles, building up at last great reefs of rocks, +and whole islands, which all grow rooted first to the rock, like +sea-weeds; and what is more, they grow, most of them, from one common +root, branching again and again, and every branchlet bearing hundreds of +living creatures, so that the whole creation is at once one creature and +many creatures. Do you not understand me? + +No. + +Then fancy to yourself a bush like that hawthorn bush, with numberless +blossoms, and every blossom on that bush a separate living thing, with +its own mouth, and arms, and stomach, budding and growing fresh live +branches and fresh live flowers, as fast as the old ones die: and then +you will see better what I mean. + +How wonderful! + +Yes; but not more wonderful than your finger, for it, too, is made up of +numberless living things. + +My finger made of living things? + +What else can it be? When you cut your finger, does not the place heal? + +Of course. + +And what is healing but growing again? And how could the atoms of your +fingers grow, and make fresh skin, if they were not each of them alive? +There, I will not puzzle you with too much at once; you will know more +about all that some day. Only remember now, that there is nothing +wonderful in the world outside you but has its counterpart of something +just as wonderful, and perhaps more wonderful, inside you. Man is the +microcosm, the little world, said the philosophers of old; and +philosophers nowadays are beginning to see that their old guess is actual +fact and true. + +But what are these curious sea-creatures called, which are animals, yet +grow like plants? + +They have more names than I can tell you, or you remember. Those which +helped to make this bit of stone are called coral-insects: but they are +not really insects, and are no more like insects than you are. +Coral-polypes is the best name for them, because they have arms round +their mouths, something like a cuttlefish, which the ancients called +Polypus. But the animal which you have seen likest to most of them is a +sea-anemone. + +Look now at this piece of fresh coral--for coral it is, though not like +the coral which your sister wears in her necklace. You see it is full of +pipes; in each of those pipes has lived what we will call, for the time +being, a tiny sea-anemone, joined on to his brothers by some sort of +flesh and skin; and all of them together have built up, out of the lime +in the sea-water, this common house, or rather town, of lime. + +But is it not strange and wonderful? + +Of course it is: but so is everything when you begin to look into it; and +if I were to go on, and tell you what sort of young ones these +coral-polypes have, and what becomes of them, you would hear such +wonders, that you would be ready to suspect that I was inventing +nonsense, or talking in my dreams. But all that belongs to Madam How's +deepest book of all, which is called the BOOK OF KIND: the book which +children cannot understand, and in which only the very wisest men are +able to spell out a few words, not knowing, and of course not daring to +guess, what wonder may come next. + +Now we will go back to our stone, and talk about how it was made, and how +the stalked star-fish, which you mistook for a flower, ever got into the +stone. + +Then do you think me silly for fancying that a fossil star-fish was a +flower? + +I should be silly if I did. There is no silliness in not knowing what +you cannot know. You can only guess about new things, which you have +never seen before, by comparing them with old things, which you have seen +before; and you had seen flowers, and snakes, and fishes' backbones, and +made a very fair guess from them. After all, some of these stalked star- +fish are so like flowers, lilies especially, that they are called +Encrinites; and the whole family is called Crinoids, or lily-like +creatures, from the Greek work _krinon_, a lily; and as for corals and +corallines, learned men, in spite of all their care and shrewdness, made +mistake after mistake about them, which they had to correct again and +again, till now, I trust, they have got at something very like the truth. +No, I shall only call you silly if you do what some little boys are apt +to do--call other boys, and, still worse, servants or poor people, silly +for not knowing what they cannot know. + +But are not poor people often very silly about animals and plants? The +boys at the village school say that slowworms are poisonous; is not that +silly? + +Not at all. They know that adders bite, and so they think that slowworms +bite too. They are wrong; and they must be told that they are wrong, and +scolded if they kill a slowworm. But silly they are not. + +But is it not silly to fancy that swallows sleep all the winter at the +bottom of the pond? + +I do not think so. The boys cannot know where the swallows go; and if +you told them--what is true--that the swallows find their way every +autumn through France, through Spain, over the Straits of Gibraltar, into +Morocco, and some, I believe, over the great desert of Zahara into +Negroland: and if you told them--what is true also--that the young +swallows actually find their way into Africa without having been along +the road before; because the old swallows go south a week or two first, +and leave the young ones to guess out the way for themselves: if you told +them that, then they would have a right to say, "Do you expect us to +believe that? That is much more wonderful than that the swallows should +sleep in the pond." + +But is it? + +Yes; to them. They know that bats and dormice and other things sleep all +the winter; so why should not swallows sleep? They see the swallows +about the water, and often dipping almost into it. They know that fishes +live under water, and that many insects--like May-flies and caddis-flies +and water-beetles--live sometimes in the water, sometimes in the open +air; and they cannot know--you do not know--what it is which prevents a +bird's living under water. So their guess is really a very fair one; no +more silly than that of the savages, who when they first saw the white +men's ships, with their huge sails, fancied they were enormous sea-birds; +and when they heard the cannons fire, said that the ships spoke in +thunder and lightning. Their guess was wrong, but not silly; for it was +the best guess they could make. + +But I do know of one old woman who was silly. She was a boy's nurse, and +she gave the boy a thing which she said was one of the snakes which St. +Hilda turned into stone; and told him that they found plenty of them at +Whitby, where she was born, all coiled up; but what was very odd, their +heads had always been broken of. And when he took it, to his father, he +told him it was only a fossil shell--an Ammonite. And he went back and +laughed at his nurse, and teased her till she was quite angry. + +Then he was very lucky that she did not box his ears, for that was what +he deserved. I dare say that, though his nurse had never heard of +Ammonites, she was a wise old dame enough, and knew a hundred things +which he did not know, and which were far more important than Ammonites, +even to him. + +How? + +Because if she had not known how to nurse him well, he would perhaps have +never grown up alive and strong. And if she had not known how to make +him obey and speak the truth, he might have grown up a naughty boy. + +But was she not silly? + +No. She only believed what the Whitby folk, I understand, have some of +them believed for many hundred years. And no one can be blamed for +thinking as his forefathers did, unless he has cause to know better. + +Surely she might have known better? + +How? What reason could she have to believe the Ammonite was a shell? It +is not the least like cockles, or whelks, or any shell she ever saw. + +What reason either could she have to guess that Whitby cliff had once +been coral-mud, at the bottom of the sea? No more reason, my dear child, +than you would have to guess that this stone had been coral-mud likewise, +if I did not teach you so,--or rather, try to make you teach yourself so. + +No. I say it again. If you wish to learn, I will only teach you on +condition that you do not laugh at, or despise, those good and honest and +able people who do not know or care about these things, because they have +other things to think of: like old John out there ploughing. He would +not believe you--he would hardly believe me--if we told him that this +stone had been once a swarm of living things, of exquisite shapes and +glorious colours. And yet he can plough and sow, and reap and mow, and +fell and strip, and hedge and ditch, and give his neighbours sound +advice, and take the measure of a man's worth from ten minutes' talk, and +say his prayers, and keep his temper, and pay his debts,--which last +three things are more than a good many folks can do who fancy themselves +a whole world wiser than John in the smock-frock. + +Oh, but I want to hear about the exquisite shapes and glorious colours. + +Of course you do, little man. A few fine epithets take your fancy far +more than a little common sense and common humility; but in that you are +no worse than some of your elders. So now for the exquisite shapes and +glorious colours. I have never seen them; though I trust to see them ere +I die. So what they are like I can only tell from what I have learnt +from Mr. Darwin, and Mr. Wallace, and Mr. Jukes, and Mr. Gosse, and last, +but not least, from one whose soul was as beautiful as his face, Lucas +Barrett,--too soon lost to science,--who was drowned in exploring such a +coral-reef as this stone was once. + +Then there are such things alive now? + +Yes, and no. The descendants of most of them live on, altered by time, +which alters all things; and from the beauty of the children we can guess +at the beauty of their ancestors; just as from the coral-reefs which +exist now we can guess how the coral-reefs of old were made. And that +this stone was once part of a coral-reef the corals in it prove at first +sight. + +And what is a coral-reef like? + +You have seen the room in the British Museum full of corals, madrepores, +brain-stones, corallines, and sea-ferns? + +Oh yes. + +Then fancy all those alive. Not as they are now, white stone: but +covered in jelly; and out of every pore a little polype, like a flower, +peeping out. Fancy them of every gaudy colour you choose. No bed of +flowers, they say, can be more brilliant than the corals, as you look +down on them through the clear sea. Fancy, again, growing among them and +crawling over them, strange sea-anemones, shells, star-fish, sea-slugs, +and sea-cucumbers with feathery gills, crabs, and shrimps, and hundreds +of other animals, all as strange in shape, and as brilliant in colour. +You may let your fancy run wild. Nothing so odd, nothing so gay, even +entered your dreams, or a poet's, as you may find alive at the bottom of +the sea, in the live flower-gardens of the sea-fairies. + +There will be shoals of fish, too, playing in and out, as strange and +gaudy as the rest,--parrot-fish who browse on the live coral with their +beak-like teeth, as cattle browse on grass; and at the bottom, it may be, +larger and uglier fish, who eat the crabs and shell-fish, shells and all, +grinding them up as a dog grinds a bone, and so turning shells and corals +into fine soft mud, such as this stone is partly made of. + +But what happens to all the delicate little corals if a storm comes on? + +What, indeed? Madam How has made them so well and wisely, that, like +brave and good men, the more trouble they suffer the stronger they are. +Day and night, week after week, the trade-wind blows upon them, hurling +the waves against them in furious surf, knocking off great lumps of +coral, grinding them to powder, throwing them over the reef into the +shallow water inside. But the heavier the surf beats upon them, the +stronger the polypes outside grow, repairing their broken houses, and +building up fresh coral on the dead coral below, because it is in the +fresh sea-water that beats upon the surf that they find most lime with +which to build. And as they build they form a barrier against the surf, +inside of which, in water still as glass, the weaker and more delicate +things can grow in safety, just as these very Encrinites may have grown, +rooted in the lime-mud, and waving their slender arms at the bottom of +the clear lagoon. Such mighty builders are these little coral polypes, +that all the works of men are small compared with theirs. One single +reef, for instance, which is entirely made by them, stretches along the +north-east coast of Australia for nearly a thousand miles. Of this you +must read some day in Mr. Jukes's _Voyage of H.M.S. "Fly_." Every island +throughout a great part of the Pacific is fringed round each with its +coral-reef, and there are hundreds of islands of strange shapes, and of +Atolls, as they are called, or ring-islands, which are composed entirely +of coral, and of nothing else. + +A ring-island? How can an island be made in the shape of a ring? + +Ah! it was a long time before men found out that riddle. Mr. Darwin was +the first to guess the answer, as he has guessed many an answer beside. +These islands are each a ring, or nearly a ring of coral, with smooth +shallow water inside: but their outsides run down, like a mountain wall, +sheer into seas hundreds of fathoms deep. People used to believe, and +reasonably enough, that the coral polypes began to build up the islands +from the very bottom of the deep sea. + +But that would not account for the top of them being of the shape of a +ring; and in time it was found out that the corals would not build except +in shallow water, twenty or thirty fathoms deep at most, and men were at +their wits' ends to find out the riddle. Then said Mr. Darwin, "Suppose +one of those beautiful South Sea Islands, like Tahiti, the Queen of +Isles, with its ring of coral-reef all round its shore, began sinking +slowly under the sea. The land, as it sunk, would be gone for good and +all: but the coral-reef round it would not, because the coral polypes +would build up and up continually upon the skeletons of their dead +parents, to get to the surface of the water, and would keep close to the +top outside, however much the land sunk inside; and when the island had +sunk completely beneath the sea, what would be left? What must be left +but a ring of coral reef, around the spot where the last mountain peak of +the island sank beneath the sea?" And so Mr. Darwin explained the shapes +of hundreds of coral islands in the Pacific; and proved, too, some +strange things besides (he proved, and other men, like Mr. Wallace, whose +excellent book on the East Indian islands you must read some day, have +proved in other ways) that there was once a great continent, joined +perhaps to Australia and to New Guinea, in the Pacific Ocean, where is +now nothing but deep sea, and coral-reefs which mark the mountain ranges +of that sunken world. + +But how does the coral ever rise above the surface of the water and turn +into hard stone? + +Of course the coral polypes cannot build above the high-tide mark; but +the surf which beats upon them piles up their broken fragments just as a +sea-beach is piled up, and hammers them together with that water hammer +which is heavier and stronger than any you have ever seen in a smith's +forge. And then, as is the fashion of lime, the whole mass sets and +becomes hard, as you may see mortar set; and so you have a low island a +few feet above the sea. Then sea-birds come to it, and rest and build; +and seeds are floated thither from far lands; and among them almost +always the cocoa-nut, which loves to grow by the sea-shore, and groves of +cocoa palms grow up upon the lonely isle. Then, perhaps, trees and +bushes are drifted thither before the trade-wind; and entangled in their +roots are seeds of other plants, and eggs or cocoons of insects; and so a +few flowers and a few butterflies and beetles set up for themselves upon +the new land. And then a bird or two, caught in a storm and blown away +to sea finds shelter in the cocoa-grove; and so a little new world is set +up, in which (you must remember always) there are no four-footed beasts, +nor snakes, nor lizards, nor frogs, nor any animals that cannot cross the +sea. And on some of those islands they may live (indeed there is reason +to believe they have lived), so long, that some of them have changed +their forms, according to the laws of Madam How, who sooner or later fits +each thing exactly for the place in which it is meant to live, till upon +some of them you may find such strange and unique creatures as the famous +cocoa-nut crab, which learned men call _Birgus latro_. A great crab he +is, who walks upon the tips of his toes a foot high above the ground. And +because he has often nothing to eat but cocoa-nuts, or at least they are +the best things he can find, cocoa-nuts he has learned to eat, and after +a fashion which it would puzzle you to imitate. Some say that he climbs +up the stems of the cocoa-nut trees, and pulls the fruit down for +himself; but that, it seems, he does not usually do. What he does is +this: when he finds a fallen cocoa-nut, he begins tearing away the thick +husk and fibre with his strong claws; and he knows perfectly well which +end to tear it from, namely, from the end where the three eye-holes are, +which you call the monkey's face, out of one of which you know, the young +cocoa-nut tree would burst forth. And when he has got to the eye-holes, +he hammers through one of them with the point of his heavy claw. So far, +so good: but how is he to get the meat out? He cannot put his claw in. +He has no proboscis like a butterfly to insert and suck with. He is as +far off from his dinner as the fox was when the stork offered him a feast +in a long-necked jar. What then do you think he does? He turns himself +round, puts in a pair of his hind pincers, which are very slender, and +with them scoops the meat out of the cocoa-nut, and so puts his dinner +into his mouth with his hind feet. And even the cocoa-nut husk he does +not waste; for he lives in deep burrows which he makes like a rabbit; and +being a luxurious crab, and liking to sleep soft in spite of his hard +shell, he lines them with a quantity of cocoa-nut fibre, picked out clean +and fine, just as if he was going to make cocoa-nut matting of it. And +being also a clean crab, as I hope you are a clean little boy, he goes +down to the sea every night to have his bath and moisten his gills, and +so lives happy all his days, and gets so fat in his old age that he +carries about his body nearly a quart of pure oil. + +That is the history of the cocoa-nut crab. And if any one tells me that +that crab acts only on what is called "instinct"; and does not think and +reason, just as you and I think and reason, though of course not in words +as you and I do: then I shall be inclined to say that that person does +not think nor reason either. + +Then were there many coral-reefs in Britain in old times? + +Yes, many and many, again and again; some whole ages older than this, a +bit of which you see, and some again whole ages newer. But look: then +judge for yourself. Look at this geological map. Wherever you see a bit +of blue, which is the mark for limestone, you may say, "There is a bit of +old coral-reef rising up to the surface." But because I will not puzzle +your little head with too many things at once, you shall look at one set +of coral-reefs which are far newer than this bit of Dudley limestone, and +which are the largest, I suppose, that ever were in this country; or, at +least, there is more of them left than of any others. + +Look first at Ireland. You see that almost all the middle of Ireland is +coloured blue. It is one great sheet of old coral-reef and coral-mud, +which is now called the carboniferous limestone. You see red and purple +patches rising out of it, like islands--and islands I suppose they were, +of hard and ancient rock, standing up in the middle of the coral sea. + +But look again, and you will see that along the west coast of Ireland, +except in a very few places, like Galway Bay, the blue limestone does not +come down to the sea; the shore is coloured purple and brown, and those +colours mark the ancient rocks and high mountains of Mayo and Galway and +Kerry, which stand as barriers to keep the raging surf of the Atlantic +from bursting inland and beating away, as it surely would in course of +time, the low flat limestone plain of the middle of Ireland. But the +same coral-reefs once stretched out far to the westward into the Atlantic +Ocean; and you may see the proof upon that map. For in the western bays, +in Clew Bay with its hundred islands, and Galway Bay with its Isles of +Arran, and beautiful Kenmare, and beautiful Bantry, you see little blue +spots, which are low limestone islands, standing in the sea, overhung by +mountains far aloft. You have often heard those islands in Kenmare Bay +talked of, and how some whom you know go to fish round them by night for +turbot and conger; and when you hear them spoken of again, you must +recollect that they are the last fragments of a great fringing +coral-reef, which will in a few thousand years follow the fate of the +rest, and be eaten up by the waves, while the mountains of hard rock +stand round them still unchanged. + +Now look at England, and there you will see patches at least of a great +coral-reef which was forming at the same time as that Irish one, and on +which perhaps some of your schoolfellows have often stood. You have +heard of St. Vincent's Rocks at Bristol, and the marble cliffs, 250 feet +in height, covered in part with rich wood and rare flowers, and the Avon +running through the narrow gorge, and the stately ships sailing far below +your feet from Bristol to the Severn sea. And you may see, for here they +are, corals from St. Vincent's Rocks, cut and polished, showing too that +they also, like the Dudley limestone, are made up of corals and of coral- +mud. Now, whenever you see St. Vincent's Rocks, as I suspect you very +soon will, recollect where you are, and use your fancy, to paint for +yourself a picture as strange as it is true. Fancy that those rocks are +what they once were, a coral-reef close to the surface of a shallow sea. +Fancy that there is no gorge of the Avon, no wide Severn sea--for those +were eaten out by water ages and ages afterwards. But picture to +yourself the coral sea reaching away to the north, to the foot of the +Welsh mountains; and then fancy yourself, if you will, in a canoe, +paddling up through the coral-reefs, north and still north, up the valley +down which the Severn now flows, up through what is now Worcestershire, +then up through Staffordshire, then through Derbyshire, into Yorkshire, +and so on through Durham and Northumberland, till your find yourself +stopped by the Ettrick hills in Scotland; while all to the westward of +you, where is now the greater part of England, was open sea. You may +say, if you know anything of the geography of England, "Impossible! That +would be to paddle over the tops of high mountains; over the top of the +Peak in Derbyshire, over the top of High Craven and Whernside and Pen-y- +gent and Cross Fell, and to paddle too over the Cheviot Hills, which part +England and Scotland." I know it, my child, I know it. But so it was +once on a time. The high limestone mountains which part Lancashire and +Yorkshire--the very chine and backbone of England--were once coral-reefs +at the bottom of the sea. They are all made up of the carboniferous +limestone, so called, as your little knowledge of Latin ought to tell +you, because it carries the coal; because the coalfields usually lie upon +it. It may be impossible in your eyes: but remember always that nothing +is impossible with God. + +But you said that the coal was made from plants and trees, and did plants +and trees grow on this coral-reef? + +That I cannot say. Trees may have grown on the dry parts of the reef, as +cocoa-nuts grow now in the Pacific. But the coal was not laid down upon +it till long afterwards, when it had gone through many and strange +changes. For all through the chine of England, and in a part of Ireland +too, there lies upon the top of the limestone a hard gritty rock, in some +places three thousand feet thick, which is commonly called "the +mill-stone grit." And above that again the coal begins. Now to make +that 3000 feet of hard rock, what must have happened? The sea-bottom +must have sunk, slowly no doubt, carrying the coral-reefs down with it, +3000 feet at least. And meanwhile sand and mud, made from the wearing +away of the old lands in the North must have settled down upon it. I say +from the North--for there are no fossils, as far as I know, or sign of +life, in these rocks of mill-stone grit; and therefore it is reasonable +to suppose that they were brought from a cold current at the Pole, too +cold to allow sea-beasts to live,--quite cold enough, certainly, to kill +coral insects, who could only thrive in warm water coming from the South. + +Then, to go on with my story, upon the top of these mill-stone grits came +sand and mud, and peat, and trees, and plants, washed out to sea, as far +as we can guess, from the mouths of vast rivers flowing from the West, +rivers as vast as the Amazon, the Mississippi, or the Orinoco are now; +and so in long ages, upon the top of the limestone and upon the top of +the mill-stone grit, were laid down those beds of coal which you see +burnt now in every fire. + +But how did the coral-reefs rise till they became cliffs at Bristol and +mountains in Yorkshire? + +The earthquake steam, I suppose, raised them. One earthquake indeed, or +series of earthquakes, there was, running along between Lancashire and +Yorkshire, which made that vast crack and upheaval in the rocks, the +Craven Fault, running, I believe, for more than a hundred miles, and +lifting the rocks in some places several hundred feet. That earthquake +helped to make the high hills which overhang Manchester and Preston, and +all the manufacturing county of Lancashire. That earthquake helped to +make the perpendicular cliff at Malham Cove, and many another beautiful +bit of scenery. And that and other earthquakes, by heating the rocks +from the fires below, may have helped to change them from soft coral into +hard crystalline marble as you see them now, just as volcanic heat has +hardened and purified the beautiful white marbles of Pentelicus and Paros +in Greece, and Carrara in Italy, from which statues are carved unto this +day. Or the same earthquake may have heated and hardened the limestones +simply by grinding and squeezing them; or they may have been heated and +hardened in the course of long ages simply by the weight of the thousands +of feet of other rock which lay upon them. For pressure, you must +remember, produces heat. When you strike flint and steel together, the +pressure of the blow not only makes bits of steel fly off, but makes them +fly off in red-hot sparks. When you hammer a piece of iron with a +hammer, you will soon find it get quite warm. When you squeeze the air +together in your pop-gun, you actually make the air inside warmer, till +the pellet flies out, and the air expands and cools again. Nay, I +believe you cannot hold up a stone on the palm of your hand without that +stone after a while warming your hand, because it presses against you in +trying to fall, and you press against it in trying to hold it up. And +recollect above all the great and beautiful example of that law which you +were lucky enough to see on the night of the 14th of November 1867, how +those falling stars, as I told you then, were coming out of boundless +space, colder than any ice on earth, and yet, simply by pressing against +the air above our heads, they had their motion turned into heat, till +they burned themselves up into trains of fiery dust. So remember that +wherever you have pressure you have heat, and that the pressure of the +upper rocks upon the lower is quite enough, some think, to account for +the older and lower rocks being harder than the upper and newer ones. + +But why should the lower rocks be older and the upper rocks newer? You +told me just now that the high mountains in Wales were ages older than +Windsor Forest, upon which we stand: but yet how much lower we are here +than if we were on a Welsh mountain. + +Ah, my dear child, of course that puzzles you, and I am afraid it must +puzzle you still till we have another talk; or rather it seems to me that +the best way to explain that puzzle to you would be for you and me to go +a journey into the far west, and look into the matter for ourselves; and +from here to the far west we will go, either in fancy or on a real +railroad and steamboat, before we have another talk about these things. + +Now it is time to stop. Is there anything more you want to know? for you +look as if something was puzzling you still. + +Were there any men in the world while all this was going on? + +I think not. We have no proof that there were not: but also we have no +proof that there were; the cave-men, of whom I told you, lived many ages +after the coal was covered up. You seem to be sorry that there were no +men in the world then. + +Because it seems a pity that there was no one to see those beautiful +coral-reefs and coal-forests. + +No one to see them, my child? Who told you that? Who told you there are +not, and never have been any rational beings in this vast universe, save +certain weak, ignorant, short-sighted creatures shaped like you and me? +But even if it were so, and no created eye had ever beheld those ancient +wonders, and no created heart ever enjoyed them, is there not one +Uncreated who has seen them and enjoyed them from the beginning? Were +not these creatures enjoying themselves each after their kind? And was +there not a Father in Heaven who was enjoying their enjoyment, and +enjoying too their beauty, which He had formed according to the ideas of +His Eternal Mind? Recollect what you were told on Trinity Sunday--That +this world was not made for man alone: but that man, and this world, and +the whole Universe was made for God; for He created all things, and for +His pleasure they are, and were created. + + + + +CHAPTER X--FIELD AND WILD + + +Where were we to go next? Into the far west, to see how all the way +along the railroads the new rocks and soils lie above the older, and yet +how, when we get westward, the oldest rocks rise highest into the air. + +Well, we will go: but not, I think, to-day. Indeed I hardly know how we +could get as far as Reading; for all the world is in the hay-field, and +even the old horse must go thither too, and take his turn at the +hay-cart. Well, the rocks have been where they are for many a year, and +they will wait our leisure patiently enough: but Midsummer and the hay- +field will not wait. Let us take what God gives when He sends it, and +learn the lesson that lies nearest to us. After all, it is more to my +old mind, and perhaps to your young mind too, to look at things which are +young and fresh and living, rather than things which are old and worn and +dead. Let us leave the old stones, and the old bones, and the old +shells, the wrecks of ancient worlds which have gone down into the +kingdom of death, to teach us their grand lessons some other day; and let +us look now at the world of light and life and beauty, which begins here +at the open door, and stretches away over the hay-fields, over the woods, +over the southern moors, over sunny France, and sunnier Spain, and over +the tropic seas, down to the equator, and the palm-groves of the eternal +summer. If we cannot find something, even at starting from the open +door, to teach us about Why and How, we must be very short-sighted, or +very shallow-hearted. + +There is the old cock starling screeching in the eaves, because he wants +to frighten us away, and take a worm to his children, without our finding +out whereabouts his hole is. How does he know that we might hurt him? +and how again does he not know that we shall not hurt him? we, who for +five-and-twenty years have let him and his ancestors build under those +eaves in peace? How did he get that quantity of half-wit, that sort of +stupid cunning, into his little brain, and yet get no more? And why (for +this is a question of Why, and not of How) does he labour all day long, +hunting for worms and insects for his children, while his wife nurses +them in the nest? Why, too, did he help her to build that nest with toil +and care this spring, for the sake of a set of nestlings who can be of no +gain or use to him, but only take the food out of his mouth? Simply out +of--what shall I call it, my child?--Love; that same sense of love and +duty, coming surely from that one Fountain of all duty and all love, +which makes your father work for you. That the mother should take care +of her young, is wonderful enough; but that (at least among many birds) +the father should help likewise, is (as you will find out as you grow +older) more wonderful far. So there already the old starling has set us +two fresh puzzles about How and Why, neither of which we shall get +answered, at least on this side of the grave. + +Come on, up the field, under the great generous sun, who quarrels with no +one, grudges no one, but shines alike upon the evil and the good. What a +gay picture he is painting now, with his light-pencils; for in them, +remember, and not in the things themselves the colour lies. See how, +where the hay has been already carried, he floods all the slopes with +yellow light, making them stand out sharp against the black shadows of +the wood; while where the grass is standing still, he makes the sheets of +sorrel-flower blush rosy red, or dapples the field with white oxeyes. + +But is not the sorrel itself red, and the oxeyes white? + +What colour are they at night, when the sun is gone? + +Dark. + +That is, no colour. The very grass is not green at night. + +Oh, but it is if you look at it with a lantern. + +No, no. It is the light of the lantern, which happens to be strong +enough to make the leaves look green, though it is not strong enough to +make a geranium look red. + +Not red? + +No; the geranium flowers by a lantern look black, while the leaves look +green. If you don't believe me, we will try. + +But why is that? + +Why, I cannot tell: and how, you had best ask Professor Tyndall, if you +ever have the honour of meeting him. + +But now--hark to the mowing-machine, humming like a giant night-jar. Come +up and look at it, and see how swift and smooth it shears the long grass +down, so that in the middle of the swathe it seems to have merely fallen +flat, and you must move it before you find that it has been cut off. + +Ah, there is a proof to us of what men may do if they will only learn the +lessons which Madam How can teach them. There is that boy, fresh from +the National School, cutting more grass in a day than six strong mowers +could have cut, and cutting it better, too; for the mowing-machine goes +so much nearer to the ground than the scythe, that we gain by it two +hundredweight of hay on every acre. And see, too, how persevering old +Madam How will not stop her work, though the machine has cut off all the +grass which she has been making for the last three months; for as fast as +we shear it off, she makes it grow again. There are fresh blades, here +at our feet, a full inch long, which have sprung up in the last two days, +for the cattle when they are turned in next week. + +But if the machine cuts all the grass, the poor mowers will have nothing +to do. + +Not so. They are all busy enough elsewhere. There is plenty of other +work to be done, thank God; and wholesomer and easier work than mowing +with a burning sun on their backs, drinking gallons of beer, and getting +first hot and then cold across the loins, till they lay in a store of +lumbago and sciatica, to cripple them in their old age. You delight in +machinery because it is curious: you should delight in it besides because +it does good, and nothing but good, where it is used, according to the +laws of Lady Why, with care, moderation, and mercy, and fair-play between +man and man. For example: just as the mowing-machine saves the mowers, +the threshing-machine saves the threshers from rheumatism and chest +complaints,--which they used to catch in the draught and dust of the +unhealthiest place in the whole parish, which is, the old-fashioned +barn's floor. And so, we may hope, in future years all heavy drudgery +and dirty work will be done more and more by machines, and people will +have more and more chance of keeping themselves clean and healthy, and +more and more time to read, and learn, and think, and be true civilised +men and women, instead of being mere live ploughs, or live manure-carts, +such as I have seen ere now. + +A live manure-cart? + +Yes, child. If you had seen, as I have seen, in foreign lands, poor +women, haggard, dirty, grown old before their youth was over, toiling up +hill with baskets of foul manure upon their backs, you would have said, +as I have said, "Oh for Madam How to cure that ignorance! Oh for Lady +Why to cure that barbarism! Oh that Madam How would teach them that +machinery must always be cheaper in the long run than human muscles and +nerves! Oh that Lady Why would teach them that a woman is the most +precious thing on earth, and that if she be turned into a beast of +burden, Lady Why--and Madam How likewise--will surely avenge the wrongs +of their human sister!" There, you do not quite know what I mean, and I +do not care that you should. It is good for little folk that big folk +should now and then "talk over their heads," as the saying is, and make +them feel how ignorant they are, and how many solemn and earnest +questions there are in the world on which they must make up their minds +some day, though not yet. But now we will talk about the hay: or rather +do you and the rest go and play in the hay and gather it up, build forts +of it, storm them, pull them down, build them up again, shout, laugh, and +scream till you are hot and tired. You will please Madam How thereby, +and Lady Why likewise. + +How? + +Because Madam How naturally wants her work to succeed, and she is at work +now making you. + +Making me? + +Of course. Making a man of you, out of a boy. And that can only be done +by the life-blood which runs through and through you. And the more you +laugh and shout, the more pure air will pass into your blood, and make it +red and healthy; and the more you romp and play--unless you overtire +yourself--the quicker will that blood flow through all your limbs, to +make bone and muscle, and help you to grow into a man. + +But why does Lady Why like to see us play? + +She likes to see you happy, as she likes to see the trees and birds +happy. For she knows well that there is no food, nor medicine either, +like happiness. If people are not happy enough, they are often tempted +to do many wrong deeds, and to think many wrong thoughts: and if by God's +grace they know the laws of Lady Why, and keep from sin, still +unhappiness, if it goes on too long, wears them out, body and mind; and +they grow ill and die, of broken hearts, and broken brains, my child; and +so at last, poor souls, find "Rest beneath the Cross." + +Children, too, who are unhappy; children who are bullied, and frightened, +and kept dull and silent, never thrive. Their bodies do not thrive; for +they grow up weak. Their minds do not thrive; for they grow up dull. +Their souls do not thrive; for they learn mean, sly, slavish ways, which +God forbid you should ever learn. Well said the wise man, "The human +plant, like the vegetables, can only flower in sunshine." + +So do you go, and enjoy yourself in the sunshine; but remember this--You +know what happiness is. Then if you wish to please Lady Why, and Lady +Why's Lord and King likewise, you will never pass a little child without +trying to make it happier, even by a passing smile. And now be off, and +play in the hay, and come back to me when you are tired. + +* * * * * + +Let us lie down at the foot of this old oak, and see what we can see. + +And hear what we can hear, too. What is that humming all round us, now +that the noisy mowing-machine has stopped? + +And as much softer than the noise of mowing-machine hum, as the machines +which make it are more delicate and more curious. Madam How is a very +skilful workwoman, and has eyes which see deeper and clearer than all +microscopes; as you would find, if you tried to see what makes that +"Midsummer hum" of which the haymakers are so fond, because it promises +fair weather. + +Why, it is only the gnats and flies. + +Only the gnats and flies? You might study those gnats and flies for your +whole life without finding out all--or more than a very little--about +them. I wish I knew how they move those tiny wings of theirs--a thousand +times in a second, I dare say, some of them. I wish I knew how far they +know that they are happy--for happy they must be, whether they know it or +not. I wish I knew how they live at all. I wish I even knew how many +sorts there are humming round us at this moment. + +How many kinds? Three or four? + +More probably thirty or forty round this single tree. + +But why should there be so many kinds of living things? Would not one or +two have done just as well? + +Why, indeed? Why should there not have been only one sort of butterfly, +and he only of one colour, a plain brown, or a plain white? + +And why should there be so many sorts of birds, all robbing the garden at +once? Thrushes, and blackbirds, and sparrows, and chaffinches, and +greenfinches, and bullfinches, and tomtits. + +And there are four kinds of tomtits round here, remember: but we may go +on with such talk for ever. Wiser men than we have asked the same +question: but Lady Why will not answer them yet. However, there is +another question, which Madam How seems inclined to answer just now, +which is almost as deep and mysterious. + +What? + +_How_ all these different kinds of things became different. + +Oh, do tell me! + +Not I. You must begin at the beginning, before you can end at the end, +or even make one step towards the end. + +What do you mean? + +You must learn the differences between things, before you can find out +how those differences came about. You must learn Madam How's alphabet +before you can read her book. And Madam How's alphabet of animals and +plants is, Species, Kinds of things. You must see which are like, and +which unlike; what they are like in, and what they are unlike in. You +are beginning to do that with your collection of butterflies. You like +to arrange them, and those that are most like nearest to each other, and +to compare them. You must do that with thousands of different kinds of +things before you can read one page of Madam How's Natural History Book +rightly. + +But it will take so much time and so much trouble. + +God grant that you may not spend more time on worse matters, and take +more trouble over things which will profit you far less. But so it must +be, willy-nilly. You must learn the alphabet if you mean to read. And +you must learn the value of the figures before you can do a sum. Why, +what would you think of any one who sat down to play at cards--for money +too (which I hope and trust you never will do)--before he knew the names +of the cards, and which counted highest, and took the other? + +Of course he would be very foolish. + +Just as foolish are those who make up "theories" (as they call them) +about this world, and how it was made, before they have found out what +the world is made of. You might as well try to find out how this hay- +field was made, without finding out first what the hay is made of. + +How the hay-field was made? Was it not always a hay-field? + +Ah, yes; the old story, my child: Was not the earth always just what it +is now? Let us see for ourselves whether this was always a hay-field. + +How? + +Just pick out all the different kinds of plants and flowers you can find +round us here. How many do you think there are? + +Oh--there seem to be four or five. + +Just as there were three or four kinds of flies in the air. Pick them, +child, and count. Let us have facts. + +How many? What! a dozen already? + +Yes--and here is another, and another. Why, I have got I don't know how +many. + +Why not? Bring them here, and let us see. Nine kinds of grasses, and a +rush. Six kinds of clovers and vetches; and besides, dandelion, and +rattle, and oxeye, and sorrel, and plantain, and buttercup, and a little +stitchwort, and pignut, and mouse-ear hawkweed, too, which nobody wants. + +Why? + +Because they are a sign that I am not a good farmer enough, and have not +quite turned my Wild into Field. + +What do you mean? + +Look outside the boundary fence, at the moors and woods; they are forest, +Wild--"Wald," as the Germans would call it. Inside the fence is +Field--"Feld," as the Germans would call it. Guess why? + +Is it because the trees inside have been felled? + +Well, some say so, who know more than I. But now go over the fence, and +see how many of these plants you can find on the moor. + +Oh, I think I know. I am so often on the moor. + +I think you would find more kinds outside than you fancy. But what do +you know? + +That beside some short fine grass about the cattle-paths, there are +hardly any grasses on the moor save deer's hair and glade-grass; and all +the rest is heath, and moss, and furze, and fern. + +Softly--not all; you have forgotten the bog plants; and there are (as I +said) many more plants beside on the moor than you fancy. But we will +look into that another time. At all events, the plants outside are on +the whole quite different from the hay-field. + +Of course: that is what makes the field look green and the moor brown. + +Not a doubt. They are so different, that they look like bits of two +different continents. Scrambling over the fence is like scrambling out +of Europe into Australia. Now, how was that difference made? Think. +Don't guess, but think. Why does the rich grass come up to the bank, and +yet not spread beyond it? + +I suppose because it cannot get over. + +Not get over? Would not the wind blow the seeds, and the birds carry +them? They do get over, in millions, I don't doubt, every summer. + +Then why do they not grow? + +Think. + +Is there any difference in the soil inside and out? + +A very good guess. But guesses are no use without facts. Look. + +Oh, I remember now. I know now the soil of the field is brown, like the +garden; and the soil of the moor all black and peaty. + +Yes. But if you dig down two or three feet, you will find the soils of +the moor and the field just the same. So perhaps the top soils were once +both alike. + +I know. + +Well, and what do you think about it now? I want you to look and think. +I want every one to look and think. Half the misery in the world comes +first from not looking, and then from not thinking. And I do not want +you to be miserable. + +But shall I be miserable if I do not find out such little things as this. + +You will be miserable if you do not learn to understand little things: +because then you will not be able to understand great things when you +meet them. Children who are not trained to use their eyes and their +common sense grow up the more miserable the cleverer they are. + +Why? + +Because they grow up what men call dreamers, and bigots, and fanatics, +causing misery to themselves and to all who deal with them. So I say +again, think. + +Well, I suppose men must have altered the soil inside the bank. + +Well done. But why do you think so? + +Because, of course, some one made the bank; and the brown soil only goes +up to it. + +Well, that is something like common sense. Now you will not say any +more, as the cows or the butterflies might, that the hay-field was always +there. + +And how did men change the soil? + +By tilling it with the plough, to sweeten it, and manuring it, to make it +rich. + +And then did all these beautiful grasses grow up of themselves? + +You ought to know that they most likely did not. You know the new +enclosures? + +Yes. + +Well then, do rich grasses come up on them, now that they are broken up? + +Oh no, nothing but groundsel, and a few weeds. + +Just what, I dare say, came up here at first. But this land was tilled +for corn, for hundreds of years, I believe. And just about one hundred +years ago it was laid down in grass; that is, sown with grass seeds. + +And where did men get the grass seeds from? + +Ah, that is a long story; and one that shows our forefathers (though they +knew nothing about railroads or electricity) were not such simpletons as +some folks think. The way it must have been done was this. Men watched +the natural pastures where cattle get fat on the wild grass, as they do +in the Fens, and many other parts of England. And then they saved the +seeds of those fattening wild grasses, and sowed them in fresh spots. +Often they made mistakes. They were careless, and got weeds among the +seed--like the buttercups, which do so much harm to this pasture. Or +they sowed on soil which would not suit the seed, and it died. But at +last, after many failures, they have grown so careful and so clever, that +you may send to certain shops, saying what sort of soil yours is, and +they will send you just the seeds which will grow there, and no other; +and then you have a good pasture for as long as you choose to keep it +good. + +And how is it kept good? + +Look at all those loads of hay, which are being carried off the field. Do +you think you can take all that away without putting anything in its +place? + +Why not? + +If I took all the butter out of the churn, what must I do if I want more +butter still? + +Put more cream in. + +So, if I want more grass to grow, I must put on the soil more of what +grass is made of. + +But the butter don't grow, and the grass does. + +What does the grass grow in? + +The soil. + +Yes. Just as the butter grows in the churn. So you must put fresh grass- +stuff continually into the soil, as you put fresh cream into the churn. +You have heard the farm men say, "That crop has taken a good deal out of +the land"? + +Yes. + +Then they spoke exact truth. What will that hay turn into by Christmas? +Can't you tell? Into milk, of course, which you will drink; and into +horseflesh too, which you will use. + +Use horseflesh? Not eat it? + +No; we have not got as far as that. We did not even make up our minds to +taste the Cambridge donkey. But every time the horse draws the carriage, +he uses up so much muscle; and that muscle he must get back again by +eating hay and corn; and that hay and corn must be put back again into +the land by manure, or there will be all the less for the horse next +year. For one cannot eat one's cake and keep it too; and no more can one +eat one's grass. + +So this field is a truly wonderful place. It is no ugly pile of brick +and mortar, with a tall chimney pouring out smoke and evil smells, with +unhealthy, haggard people toiling inside. Why do you look surprised? + +Because--because nobody ever said it was. You mean a manufactory. + +Well, and this hay-field is a manufactory: only like most of Madam How's +workshops, infinitely more beautiful, as well as infinitely more crafty, +than any manufactory of man's building. It is beautiful to behold, and +healthy to work in; a joy and blessing alike to the eye, and the mind, +and the body: and yet it is a manufactory. + +But a manufactory of what? + +Of milk of course, and cows, and sheep, and horses; and of your body and +mine--for we shall drink the milk and eat the meat. And therefore it is +a flesh and milk manufactory. We must put into it every year yard-stuff, +tank-stuff, guano, bones, and anything and everything of that kin, that +Madam How may cook it for us into grass, and cook the grass again into +milk and meat. But if we don't give Madam How material to work on, we +cannot expect her to work for us. And what do you think will happen +then? She will set to work for herself. The rich grasses will dwindle +for want of ammonia (that is smelling salts), and the rich clovers for +want of phosphates (that is bone-earth): and in their places will come +over the bank the old weeds and grass off the moor, which have not room +to get in now, because the ground is coveted already. They want no +ammonia nor phosphates--at all events they have none, and that is why the +cattle on the moor never get fat. So they can live where these rich +grasses cannot. And then they will conquer and thrive; and the Field +will turn into Wild once more. + +Ah, my child, thank God for your forefathers, when you look over that +boundary mark. For the difference between the Field and the Wild is the +difference between the old England of Madam How's making, and the new +England which she has taught man to make, carrying on what she had only +begun and had not time to finish. + +That moor is a pattern bit left to show what the greater part of this +land was like for long ages after it had risen out of the sea; when there +was little or nothing on the flat upper moors save heaths, and ling, and +club-mosses, and soft gorse, and needle-whin, and creeping willows; and +furze and fern upon the brows; and in the bottoms oak and ash, beech and +alder, hazel and mountain ash, holly and thorn, with here and there an +aspen or a buckthorn (berry-bearing alder as you call it), and +everywhere--where he could thrust down his long root, and thrust up his +long shoots--that intruding conqueror and insolent tyrant, the bramble. +There were sedges and rushes, too, in the bogs, and coarse grass on the +forest pastures--or "leas" as we call them to this day round here--but no +real green fields; and, I suspect, very few gay flowers, save in spring +the sheets of golden gorse, and in summer the purple heather. Such was +old England--or rather, such was this land before it was England; a far +sadder, damper, poorer land than now. For one man or one cow or sheep +which could have lived on it then, a hundred can live now. And yet, what +it was once, that it might become again,--it surely would round here, if +this brave English people died out of it, and the land was left to itself +once more. + +What would happen then, you may guess for yourself, from what you see +happen whenever the land is left to itself, as it is in the wood above. +In that wood you can still see the grass ridges and furrows which show +that it was once ploughed and sown by man; perhaps as late as the time of +Henry the Eighth, when a great deal of poor land, as you will read some +day, was thrown out of tillage, to become forest and down once more. And +what is the mount now? A jungle of oak and beech, cherry and holly, +young and old all growing up together, with the mountain ash and bramble +and furze coming up so fast beneath them, that we have to cut the paths +clear again year by year. Why, even the little cow-wheat, a very old- +world plant, which only grows in ancient woods, has found its way back +again, I know not whence, and covers the open spaces with its pretty +yellow and white flowers. Man had conquered this mount, you see, from +Madam How, hundreds of years ago. And she always lets man conquer her, +because Lady Why wishes man to conquer: only he must have a fair fight +with Madam How first, and try his strength against hers to the utmost. So +man conquered the wood for a while; and it became cornfield instead of +forest: but he was not strong and wise enough three hundred years ago to +keep what he had conquered; and back came Madam How, and took the place +into her own hands, and bade the old forest trees and plants come back +again--as they would come if they were not stopped year by year, down +from the wood, over the pastures--killing the rich grasses as they went, +till they met another forest coming up from below, and fought it for many +a year, till both made peace, and lived quietly side by side for ages. + +Another forest coming up from below? Where would it come from? + +From where it is now. Come down and look along the brook, and every +drain and grip which runs into the brook. What is here? + +Seedling alders, and some withies among them. + +Very well. You know how we pull these alders up, and cut them down, and +yet they continually come again. Now, if we and all human beings were to +leave this pasture for a few hundred years, would not those alders +increase into a wood? Would they not kill the grass, and spread right +and left, seeding themselves more and more as the grass died, and left +the ground bare, till they met the oaks and beeches coming down the hill? +And then would begin a great fight, for years and years, between oak and +beech against alder and willow. + +But how can trees fight? Could they move or beat each other with their +boughs? + +Not quite that; though they do beat each other with their boughs, +fiercely enough, in a gale of wind; and then the trees who have strong +and stiff boughs wound those who have brittle and limp boughs, and so +hurt them, and if the storms come often enough, kill them. But among +these trees in a sheltered valley the larger and stronger would kill the +weaker and smaller by simply overshadowing their tops, and starving their +roots; starving them, indeed, so much when they grow very thick, that the +poor little acorns, and beech mast, and alder seeds would not be able to +sprout at all. So they would fight, killing each other's children, till +the war ended--I think I can guess how. + +How? + +The beeches are as dainty as they are beautiful; and they do not like to +get their feet wet. So they would venture down the hill only as far as +the dry ground lasts, and those who tried to grow any lower would die. +But the oaks are hardy, and do not care much where they grow. So they +would fight their way down into the wet ground among the alders and +willows, till they came to where their enemies were so thick and tall, +that the acorns as they fell could not sprout in the darkness. And so +you would have at last, along the hill-side, a forest of beech and oak, +lower down a forest of oak and alder, and along the stream-side alders +and willows only. And that would be a very fair example of the great law +of the struggle for existence, which causes the competition of species. + +What is that? + +Madam How is very stern, though she is always perfectly just; and +therefore she makes every living thing fight for its life, and earn its +bread, from its birth till its death; and rewards it exactly according to +its deserts, and neither more nor less. + +And the competition of species means, that each thing, and kind of +things, has to compete against the things round it; and to see which is +the stronger; and the stronger live, and breed, and spread, and the +weaker die out. + +But that is very hard. + +I know it, my child, I know it. But so it is. And Madam How, no doubt, +would be often very clumsy and very cruel, without meaning it, because +she never sees beyond her own nose, or thinks at all about the +consequences of what she is doing. But Lady Why, who does think about +consequences, is her mistress, and orders her about for ever. And Lady +Why is, I believe, as loving as she is wise; and therefore we must trust +that she guides this great war between living things, and takes care that +Madam How kills nothing which ought not to die, and takes nothing away +without putting something more beautiful and something more useful in its +place; and that even if England were, which God forbid, overrun once more +with forests and bramble-brakes, that too would be of use somehow, +somewhere, somewhen, in the long ages which are to come hereafter. + +And you must remember, too, that since men came into the world with +rational heads on their shoulders, Lady Why has been handing over more +and more of Madam How's work to them, and some of her own work too: and +bids them to put beautiful and useful things in the place of ugly and +useless ones; so that now it is men's own fault if they do not use their +wits, and do by all the world what they have done by these +pastures--change it from a barren moor into a rich hay-field, by copying +the laws of Madam How, and making grass compete against heath. But you +look thoughtful: what is it you want to know? + +Why, you say all living things must fight and scramble for what they can +get from each other: and must not I too? For I am a living thing. + +Ah, that is the old question, which our Lord answered long ago, and said, +"Be not anxious what ye shall eat or what ye shall drink, or wherewithal +you shall be clothed. For after all these things do the heathen seek, +and your Heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of these things. But +seek ye first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these +things shall be added to you." A few, very few, people have taken that +advice. But they have been just the salt of the earth, which has kept +mankind from decaying. + +But what has that to do with it? + +See. You are a living thing, you say. Are you a plant? + +No. + +Are you an animal? + +I do not know. Yes. I suppose I am. I eat, and drink, and sleep, just +as dogs and cats do. + +Yes. There is no denying that. No one knew that better than St. Paul +when he told men that they had a flesh; that is, a body, and an animal's +nature in them. But St. Paul told them--of course he was not the first +to say so, for all the wise heathens have known that--that there was +something more in us, which he called a spirit. Some call it now the +moral sentiment, some one thing, some another, but we will keep to the +old word: we shall not find a better. + +Yes, I know that I have a spirit, a soul. + +Better to say that you are a spirit. But what does St. Paul say? That +our spirit is to conquer our flesh, and keep it down. That the man in +us, in short, which is made in the likeness of God, is to conquer the +animal in us, which is made in the likeness of the dog and the cat, and +sometimes (I fear) in the likeness of the ape or the pig. You would not +wish to be like a cat, much less like an ape or a pig? + +Of course not. + +Then do not copy them, by competing and struggling for existence against +other people. + +What do you mean? + +Did you never watch the pigs feeding? + +Yes, and how they grudge and quarrel, and shove each other's noses out of +the trough, and even bite each other because they are so jealous which +shall get most. + +That is it. And how the biggest pig drives the others away, and would +starve them while he got fat, if the man did not drive him off in his +turn. + +Oh, yes; I know. + +Then no wiser than those pigs are worldly men who compete, and grudge, +and struggle with each other, which shall get most money, most fame, most +power over their fellow-men. They will tell you, my child, that that is +the true philosophy, and the true wisdom; that competition is the natural +law of society, and the source of wealth and prosperity. Do not you +listen to them. That is the wisdom of this world, which the flesh +teaches the animals; and those who follow it, like the animals, will +perish. Such men are not even as wise as Sweep the retriever. + +Not as wise as Sweep? + +Not they. Sweep will not take away Victor's bone, though he is ten times +as big as Victor, and could kill him in a moment; and when he catches a +rabbit, does he eat it himself? + +Of course not; he brings it and lays it down at our feet. + +Because he likes better to do his duty, and be praised for it, than to +eat the rabbit, dearly as he longs to eat it. + +But he is only an animal. Who taught him to be generous, and dutiful, +and faithful? + +Who, indeed! Not we, you know that, for he has grown up with us since a +puppy. How he learnt it, and his parents before him, is a mystery, of +which we can only say, God has taught them, we know not how. But see +what has happened--that just because dogs have learnt not to be selfish +and to compete--that is, have become civilised and tame--therefore we let +them live with us, and love them. Because they try to be good in their +simple way, therefore they too have all things added to them, and live +far happier, and more comfortable lives than the selfish wolf and fox. + +But why have not all animals found out that? + +I cannot tell: there may be wise animals and foolish animals, as there +are wise and foolish men. Indeed there are. I see a very wise animal +there, who never competes; for she has learned something of the golden +lesson--that it is more blessed to give than to receive; and she acts on +what she has learnt, all day long. + +Which do you mean? Why, that is a bee. + +Yes, it is a bee: and I wish I were as worthy in my place as that bee is +in hers. I wish I could act up as well as she does to the true wisdom, +which is self-sacrifice. For whom is that bee working? For herself? If +that was all, she only needs to suck the honey as she goes. But she is +storing up the wax under her stomach, and bee-bread in her thighs--for +whom? Not for herself only, or even for her own children: but for the +children of another bee, her queen. For them she labours all day long, +builds for them, feeds them, nurses them, spends her love and cunning on +them. So does that ant on the path. She is carrying home that stick to +build for other ants' children. So do the white ants in the tropics. +They have learnt not to compete, but to help each other; not to be +selfish, but to sacrifice themselves; and therefore they are strong. + +But you told me once that ants would fight and plunder each other's +nests. And once we saw two hives of bees fighting in the air, and +falling dead by dozens. + +My child, do not men fight, and kill each other by thousands with sharp +shot and cold steel, because, though they have learnt the virtue of +patriotism, they have not yet learnt that of humanity? We must not blame +the bees and ants if they are no wiser than men. At least they are wise +enough to stand up for their country, that is, their hive, and work for +it, and die for it, if need be; and that makes them strong. + +But how does that make them strong? + +How, is a deep question, and one I can hardly answer yet. But that it +has made them so there is no doubt. Look at the solitary bees--the +governors as we call them, who live in pairs, in little holes in the +banks. How few of them there are; and they never seem to increase in +numbers. Then look at the hive bees, how, just because they are +civilised,--that is, because they help each other, and feed each other, +instead of being solitary and selfish,--they breed so fast, and get so +much food, that if they were not killed for their honey, they would soon +become a nuisance, and drive us out of the parish. + +But then we give them their hives ready made. + +True. But in old forest countries, where trees decay and grow hollow, +the bees breed in them. + +Yes. I remember the bee tree in the fir avenue. + +Well then, in many forests in hot countries the bees swarm in hollow +trees; and they, and the ants, and the white ants, have it all their own +way, and are lords and masters, driving the very wild beasts before them, +while the ants and white ants eat up all gardens, and plantations, and +clothes, and furniture; till it is a serious question whether in some hot +countries man will ever be able to settle, so strong have the ants grown, +by ages of civilisation, and not competing against their brothers and +sisters. + +But may I not compete for prizes against the other boys? + +Well, there is no harm in that; for you do not harm the others, even if +you win. They will have learnt all the more, while trying for the prize; +and so will you, even if you don't get it. But I tell you fairly, trying +for prizes is only fit for a child; and when you become a man, you must +put away childish things--competition among the rest. + +But surely I may try to be better and wiser and more learned than +everybody else? + +My dearest child, why try for that? Try to be as good, and wise, and +learned as you can, and if you find any man, or ten thousand men, +superior to you, thank God for it. Do you think that there can be too +much wisdom in the world? + +Of course not: but I should like to be the wisest man in it. + +Then you would only have the heaviest burden of all men on your +shoulders. + +Why? + +Because you would be responsible for more foolish people than any one +else. Remember what wise old Moses said, when some one came and told him +that certain men in the camp were prophesying--"Would God all the Lord's +people did prophesy!" Yes; it would have saved Moses many a heartache, +and many a sleepless night, if all the Jews had been wise as he was, and +wiser still. So do not you compete with good and wise men, but simply +copy them: and whatever you do, do not compete with the wolves, and the +apes, and the swine of this world; for that is a game at which you are +sure to be beaten. + +Why? + +Because Lady Why, if she loves you (as I trust she does), will take care +that you are beaten, lest you should fancy it was really profitable to +live like a cunning sort of animal, and not like a true man. And how she +will do that I can tell you. She will take care that you always come +across a worse man than you are trying to be,--a more apish man, who can +tumble and play monkey-tricks for people's amusement better than you can; +or a more swinish man, who can get at more of the pig's-wash than you +can; or a more wolfish man, who will eat you up if you do not get out of +his way; and so she will disappoint and disgust you, my child, with that +greedy, selfish, vain animal life, till you turn round and see your +mistake, and try to live the true human life, which also is divine;--to +be just and honourable, gentle and forgiving, generous and useful--in one +word, to fear God, and keep His commandments: and as you live that life, +you will find that, by the eternal laws of Lady Why, all other things +will be added to you; that people will be glad to know you, glad to help +you, glad to employ you, because they see that you will be of use to +them, and will do them no harm. And if you meet (as you will meet) with +people better and wiser than yourself, then so much the better for you; +for they will love you, and be glad to teach you when they see that you +are living the unselfish and harmless life; and that you come to them, +not as foolish Critias came to Socrates, to learn political cunning, and +become a selfish and ambitious tyrant, but as wise Plato came, that he +might learn the laws of Lady Why, and love them for her sake, and teach +them to all mankind. And so you, like the plants and animals, will get +your deserts exactly, without competing and struggling for existence as +they do. + +And all this has come out of looking at the hay-field and the wild moor. + +Why not? There is an animal in you, and there is a man in you. If the +animal gets the upper hand, all your character will fall back into wild +useless moor; if the man gets the upper hand, all your character will be +cultivated into rich and fertile field. Choose. + +Now come down home. The haymakers are resting under the hedge. The +horses are dawdling home to the farm. The sun is getting low, and the +shadows long. Come home, and go to bed while the house is fragrant with +the smell of hay, and dream that you are still playing among the +haycocks. When you grow old, you will have other and sadder dreams. + + + + +CHAPTER XI--THE WORLD'S END + + +Hullo! hi! wake up. Jump out of bed, and come to the window, and see +where you are. + +What a wonderful place! + +So it is: though it is only poor old Ireland. Don't you recollect that +when we started I told you we were going to Ireland, and through it to +the World's End; and here we are now safe at the end of the old world, +and beyond us the great Atlantic, and beyond that again, thousands of +miles away, the new world, which will be rich and prosperous, civilised +and noble, thousands of years hence, when this old world, it may be, will +be dead, and little children there will be reading in their history books +of Ancient England and of Ancient France, as you now read of Greece and +Rome. + +But what a wonderful place it is! What are those great green things +standing up in the sky, all over purple ribs and bars, with their tops +hid in the clouds? + +Those are mountains; the bones of some old world, whose poor bare sides +Madam How is trying to cover with rich green grass. + +And how far off are they? + +How I should like to walk up to the top of that one which looks quite +close. + +You will find it a long walk up there; three miles, I dare say, over +black bogs and banks of rock, and up corries and cliffs which you could +not climb. There are plenty of cows on that mountain: and yet they look +so small, you could not see them, nor I either, without a glass. That +long white streak, zigzagging down the mountain side, is a roaring +cataract of foam five hundred feet high, full now with last night's rain; +but by this afternoon it will have dwindled to a little thread; and to- +morrow, when you get up, if no more rain has come down, it will be gone. +Madam How works here among the mountains swiftly and hugely, and +sometimes terribly enough; as you shall see when you have had your +breakfast, and come down to the bridge with me. + +But what a beautiful place it is! Flowers and woods and a lawn; and what +is that great smooth patch in the lawn just under the window? + +Is it an empty flower-bed? + +Ah, thereby hangs a strange tale. We will go and look at it after +breakfast, and then you shall see with your own eyes one of the wonders +which I have been telling you of. + +And what is that shining between the trees? + +Water. + +Is it a lake? + +Not a lake, though there are plenty round here; that is salt water, not +fresh. Look away to the right, and you see it through the opening of the +woods again and again: and now look above the woods. You see a faint +blue line, and gray and purple lumps like clouds, which rest upon it far +away. That, child, is the great Atlantic Ocean, and those are islands in +the far west. The water which washes the bottom of the lawn was but a +few months ago pouring out of the Gulf of Mexico, between the Bahamas and +Florida, and swept away here as the great ocean river of warm water which +we call the Gulf Stream, bringing with it out of the open ocean the +shoals of mackerel, and the porpoises and whales which feed upon them. +Some fine afternoon we will run down the bay and catch strange fishes, +such as you never saw before, and very likely see a living whale. + +What? such a whale as they get whalebone from, and which eats sea-moths? + +No, they live far north, in the Arctic circle; these are grampuses, and +bottle-noses, which feed on fish; not so big as the right whales, but +quite big enough to astonish you, if one comes up and blows close to the +boat. Get yourself dressed and come down, and then we will go out; we +shall have plenty to see and talk of at every step. + +Now, you have finished your breakfast at last, so come along, and we +shall see what we shall see. First run out across the gravel, and +scramble up that bank of lawn, and you will see what you fancied was an +empty flower-bed. + +Why, it is all hard rock. + +Ah, you are come into the land of rocks now: out of the land of sand and +gravel; out of a soft young corner of the world into a very hard, old, +weather-beaten corner; and you will see rocks enough, and too many for +the poor farmers, before you go home again. + +But how beautifully smooth and flat the rock is: and yet it is all +rounded. + +What is it like? + +Like--like the half of a shell. + +Not badly said, but think again. + +Like--like--I know what it is like. Like the back of some great monster +peeping up through the turf. + +You have got it. Such rocks as these are called in Switzerland "roches +moutonnees," because they are, people fancy, like sheep's backs. Now +look at the cracks and layers in it. They run across the stone; they +have nothing to do with the shape of it. You see that? + +Yes: but here are cracks running across them, all along the stone, till +the turf hides them. + +Look at them again; they are no cracks; they do not go into the stone. + +I see. They are scratched; something like those on the elder-stem at +home, where the cats sharpen their claws. But it would take a big cat to +make them. + +Do you recollect what I told you of Madam How's hand, more flexible than +any hand of man, and yet strong enough to grind the mountains into paste? + +I know. Ice! ice! ice! But are these really ice-marks? + +Child, on the place where we now stand, over rich lawns, and warm woods, +and shining lochs, lay once on a time hundreds, it may be thousands, of +feet of solid ice, crawling off yonder mountain-tops into the ocean there +outside; and this is one of its tracks. See how the scratches all point +straight down the valley, and straight out to sea. Those mountains are +2000 feet high: but they were much higher once; for the ice has planed +the tops off them. Then, it seems to me, the ice sank, and left the +mountains standing out of it about half their height, and at that level +it stayed, till it had planed down all those lower moors of smooth bare +rock between us and the Western ocean; and then it sank again, and +dwindled back, leaving moraines (that is, heaps of dirt and stones) all +up these valleys here and there, till at the last it melted all away, and +poor old Ireland became fit to live in again. We will go down the bay +some day and look at those moraines, some of them quite hills of earth, +and then you will see for yourself how mighty a chisel the ice-chisel +was, and what vast heaps of chips it has left behind. Now then, down +over the lawn towards the bridge. Listen to the river, louder and louder +every step we take. + +What a roar! Is there a waterfall there? + +No. It is only the flood. And underneath the roar of that flood, do you +not hear a deeper note--a dull rumbling, as if from underground? + +Yes. What is it? + +The rolling of great stones under water, which are being polished against +each other, as they hurry toward the sea. Now, up on the parapet of the +bridge. I will hold you tight. Look and see Madam How's rain-spade at +work. Look at the terrible yellow torrent below us, almost filling up +the arches of the bridge, and leaping high in waves and crests of foam. + +Oh, the bridge is falling into the water! + +Not a bit. You are not accustomed to see water running below you at ten +miles an hour. Never mind that feeling. It will go off in a few +seconds. Look; the water is full six feet up the trunks of the trees; +over the grass and the king fern, and the tall purple loose-strife-- + +Oh! Here comes a tree dancing down! + +And there are some turfs which have been cut on the mountain. And there +is a really sad sight. Look what comes now. + +One--two--three. + +Why, they are sheep. + +Yes. And a sad loss they will be to some poor fellow in the glen above. + +And oh! Look at the pig turning round and round solemnly in the corner +under the rock. Poor piggy! He ought to have been at home safe in his +stye, and not wandering about the hills. And what are these coming now? + +Butter firkins, I think. Yes. This is a great flood. It is well if +there are no lives lost. + +But is it not cruel of Madam How to make such floods? + +Well--let us ask one of these men who are looking over the bridge. + +Why, what does he say? I cannot understand one word. Is he talking +Irish? + +Irish-English at least: but what he said was, that it was a mighty fine +flood entirely, praised be God; and would help on the potatoes and oats +after the drought, and set the grass growing again on the mountains. + +And what is he saying now? + +That the river will be full of salmon and white trout after this. + +What does he mean? + +That under our feet now, if we could see through the muddy water, dozens +of salmon and sea-trout are running up from the sea. + +What! up this furious stream? + +Yes. What would be death to you is pleasure and play to them. Up they +are going, to spawn in the little brooks among the mountains; and all of +them are the best of food, fattened on the herrings and sprats in the sea +outside, Madam How's free gift, which does not cost man a farthing, save +the expense of nets and rods to catch them. + +How can that be? + +I will give you a bit of political economy. Suppose a pound of salmon is +worth a shilling; and a pound of beef is worth a shilling likewise. +Before we can eat the beef, it has cost perhaps tenpence to make that +pound of beef out of turnips and grass and oil-cake; and so the country +is only twopence a pound richer for it. But Mr. Salmon has made himself +out of what he eats in the sea, and so has cost nothing; and the shilling +a pound is all clear gain. There--you don't quite understand that piece +of political economy. Indeed, it is only in the last two or three years +that older heads than yours have got to understand it, and have passed +the wise new salmon laws, by which the rivers will be once more as rich +with food as the land is, just as they were hundreds of years ago. But +now, look again at the river. What do you think makes it so yellow and +muddy? + +Dirt, of course. + +And where does that come from? + +Off the mountains? + +Yes. Tons on tons of white mud are being carried down past us now; and +where will they go? + +Into the sea? + +Yes, and sink there in the still water, to make new strata at the bottom; +and perhaps in them, ages hence, some one will find the bones of those +sheep, and of poor Mr. Pig too, fossil-- + +And the butter firkins too. What fun to find a fossil butter firkin! + +But now lift up your eyes to the jagged mountain crests, and their dark +sides all laced with silver streams. Out of every crack and cranny there +aloft, the rain is bringing down dirt, and stones too, which have been +split off by the winter's frosts, deepening every little hollow, and +sharpening every peak, and making the hills more jagged and steep year by +year. + +When the ice went away, the hills were all scraped smooth and round by +the glaciers, like the flat rock upon the lawn; and ugly enough they must +have looked, most like great brown buns. But ever since then, Madam How +has been scooping them out again by her water-chisel into deep glens, +mighty cliffs, sharp peaks, such as you see aloft, and making the old +hills beautiful once more. Why, even the Alps in Switzerland have been +carved out by frost and rain, out of some great flat. The very peak of +the Matterhorn, of which you have so often seen a picture, is but one +single point left of some enormous bun of rock. All the rest has been +carved away by rain and frost; and some day the Matterhorn itself will be +carved away, and its last stone topple into the glacier at its foot. See, +as we have been talking, we have got into the woods. + +Oh, what beautiful woods, just like our own. + +Not quite. There are some things growing here which do not grow at home, +as you will soon see. And there are no rocks at home, either, as there +are here. + +How strange, to see trees growing out of rocks! How do their roots get +into the stone? + +There is plenty of rich mould in the cracks for them to feed on-- + + "Health to the oak of the mountains; he trusts to the might of the + rock-clefts. + Deeply he mines, and in peace feeds on the wealth of the stone." + +How many sorts of trees there are--oak, and birch and nuts, and mountain- +ash, and holly and furze, and heather. + +And if you went to some of the islands in the lake up in the glen, you +would find wild arbutus--strawberry-tree, as you call it. We will go and +get some one day or other. + +How long and green the grass is, even on the rocks, and the ferns, and +the moss, too. Everything seems richer here than at home. + +Of course it is. You are here in the land of perpetual spring, where +frost and snow seldom, or never comes. + +Oh, look at the ferns under this rock! I must pick some. + +Pick away. I will warrant you do not pick all the sorts. + +Yes. I have got them all now. + +Not so hasty, child; there is plenty of a beautiful fern growing among +that moss, which you have passed over. Look here. + +What! that little thing a fern! + +Hold it up to the light, and see. + +What a lovely little thing, like a transparent sea-weed, hung on black +wire. What is it? + +Film fern, Hymenophyllum. But what are you staring at now, with all your +eyes? + +Oh! that rock covered with green stars and a cloud of little white and +pink flowers growing out of them. + +Aha! my good little dog! I thought you would stand to that game when you +found it. + +What is it, though? + +You must answer that yourself. You have seen it a hundred times before. + +Why, it is London Pride, that grows in the garden at home. + +Of course it is: but the Irish call it St. Patrick's cabbage; though it +got here a long time before St. Patrick; and St. Patrick must have been +very short of garden-stuff if he ever ate it. + +But how did it get here from London? + +No, no. How did it get to London from hence? For from this country it +came. I suppose the English brought it home in Queen Bess's or James the +First's time. + +But if it is wild here, and will grow so well in England, why do we not +find it wild in England too? + +For the same reason that there are no toads or snakes in Ireland. They +had not got as far as Ireland before Ireland was parted off from England. +And St. Patrick's cabbage, and a good many other plants, had not got as +far as England. + +But why? + +Why, I don't know. But this I know: that when Madam How makes a new sort +of plant or animal, she starts it in one single place, and leaves it to +take care of itself and earn its own living--as she does you and me and +every one--and spread from that place all round as far as it can go. So +St. Patrick's cabbage got into this south-west of Ireland, long, long +ago; and was such a brave sturdy little plant, that it clambered up to +the top of the highest mountains, and over all the rocks. But when it +got to the rich lowlands to the eastward, in county Cork, it found all +the ground taken up already with other plants; and as they had enough to +do to live themselves, they would not let St. Patrick's cabbage settle +among them; and it had to be content with living here in the +far-west--and, what was very sad, had no means of sending word to its +brothers and sisters in the Pyrenees how it was getting on. + +What do you mean? Are you making fun of me? + +Not the least. I am only telling you a very strange story, which is +literally true. Come, and sit down on this bench. You can't catch that +great butterfly, he is too strong on the wing for you. + +But oh, what a beautiful one! + +Yes, orange and black, silver and green, a glorious creature. But you +may see him at home sometimes: that plant close to you, you cannot see at +home. + +Why, it is only great spurge, such as grows in the woods at home. + +No. It is Irish spurge which grows here, and sometimes in Devonshire, +and then again in the west of Europe, down to the Pyrenees. Don't touch +it. Our wood spurge is poisonous enough, but this is worse still; if you +get a drop of its milk on your lip or eye, you will be in agonies for +half a day. That is the evil plant with which the poachers kill the +salmon. + +How do they do that? + +When the salmon are spawning up in the little brooks, and the water is +low, they take that spurge, and grind it between two stones under water, +and let the milk run down into the pool; and at that all the poor salmon +turn up dead. Then comes the water-bailiff, and catches the poachers. +Then comes the policeman, with his sword at his side and his truncheon +under his arm: and then comes a "cheap journey" to Tralee Gaol, in which +those foolish poachers sit and reconsider themselves, and determine not +to break the salmon laws--at least till next time. + +But why is it that this spurge, and St. Patrick's cabbage, grow only here +in the west? If they got here of themselves, where did they come from? +All outside there is sea; and they could not float over that. + +Come, I say, and sit down on this bench, and I will tell you a tale,--the +story of the Old Atlantis, the sunken land in the far West. Old Plato, +the Greek, told legends of it, which you will read some day; and now it +seems as if those old legends had some truth in them, after all. We are +standing now on one of the last remaining scraps of the old Atlantic +land. Look down the bay. Do you see far away, under, the mountains, +little islands, long and low? + +Oh, yes. + +Some of these are old slate, like the mountains; others are limestone; +bits of the old coral-reef to the west of Ireland which became dry land. + +I know. You told me about it. + +Then that land, which is all eaten up by the waves now, once joined +Ireland to Cornwall, and to Spain, and to the Azores, and I suspect to +the Cape of Good Hope, and what is stranger, to Labrador, on the coast of +North America. + +Oh! How can you know that? + +Listen, and I will give you your first lesson in what I call Bio-geology. + +What a long word! + +If you can find a shorter one I shall be very much obliged to you, for I +hate long words. But what it means is,--Telling how the land has changed +in shape, by the plants and animals upon it. And if you ever read (as +you will) Mr. Wallace's new book on the Indian Archipelago, you will see +what wonderful discoveries men may make about such questions if they will +but use their common sense. You know the common pink heather--ling, as +we call it? + +Of course. + +Then that ling grows, not only here and in the north and west of Europe, +but in the Azores too; and, what is more strange, in Labrador. Now, as +ling can neither swim nor fly, does not common sense tell you that all +those countries were probably joined together in old times? + +Well: but it seems so strange. + +So it is, my child; and so is everything. But, as the fool says in +Shakespeare-- + + "A long time ago the world began, + With heigh ho, the wind and the rain." + +And the wind and the rain have made strange work with the poor old world +ever since. And that is about all that we, who are not very much wiser +than Shakespeare's fool, can say about the matter. But again--the London +Pride grows here, and so does another saxifrage very like it, which we +call Saxifraga Geum. Now, when I saw those two plants growing in the +Western Pyrenees, between France and Spain, and with them the beautiful +blue butterwort, which grows in these Kerry bogs--we will go and find +some--what could I say but that Spain and Ireland must have been joined +once? + +I suppose it must be so. + +Again. There is a little pink butterwort here in the bogs, which grows, +too, in dear old Devonshire and Cornwall; and also in the south-west of +Scotland. Now, when I found that too, in the bogs near Biarritz, close +to the Pyrenees, and knew that it stretched away along the Spanish coast, +and into Portugal, what could my common sense lead me to say but that +Scotland, and Ireland, and Cornwall, and Spain were all joined once? +Those are only a few examples. I could give you a dozen more. For +instance, on an island away there to the west, and only in one spot, +there grows a little sort of lily, which is found I believe in Brittany, +and on the Spanish and Portuguese heaths, and even in North-west Africa. +And that Africa and Spain were joined not so very long ago at the Straits +of Gibraltar there is no doubt at all. + +But where did the Mediterranean Sea run out then? + +Perhaps it did not run out at all; but was a salt-water lake, like the +Caspian, or the Dead Sea. Perhaps it ran out over what is now the +Sahara, the great desert of sand, for, that was a sea-bottom not long +ago. + +But then, how was this land of Atlantis joined to the Cape of Good Hope? + +I cannot say how, or when either. But this is plain: the place in the +world where the most beautiful heaths grow is the Cape of Good Hope? You +know I showed you Cape heaths once at the nursery gardener's at home. + +Oh yes, pink, and yellow, and white; so much larger than ours. + +Then it seems (I only say it seems) as if there must have been some land +once to the westward, from which the different sorts of heath spread +south-eastward to the Cape, and north-eastward into Europe. And that +they came north-eastward into Europe seems certain; for there are no +heaths in America or Asia. + +But how north-eastward? + +Think. Stand with your face to the south and think. If a thing comes +from the south-west--from there, it must go to the north-east-towards +there. Must it not? + +Oh yes, I see. + +Now then--The farther you go south-west, towards Spain, the more kinds of +heath there are, and the handsomer; as if their original home, from which +they started, was somewhere down there. + +More sorts! What sorts? + +How many sorts of heath have we at home? + +Three, of course: ling, and purple heath, and bottle heath. + +And there are no more in all England, or Wales, or Scotland, except--Now, +listen. In the very farthest end of Cornwall there are two more sorts, +the Cornish heath and the Orange-bell; and they say (though I never saw +it) that the Orange-bell grows near Bournemouth. + +Well. That is south and west too. + +So it is: but that makes five heaths. Now in the south and west of +Ireland all these five heaths grow, and two more: the great Irish heath, +with purple bells, and the Mediterranean heath, which flowers in spring. + +Oh, I know them. They grow in the Rhododendron beds at home. + +Of course. Now again. If you went down to Spain, you would find all +those seven heaths, and other sorts with them, and those which are rare +in England and Ireland are common there. About Biarritz, on the Spanish +frontier, all the moors are covered with Cornish heath, and the bogs with +Orange-bell, and lovely they are to see; and growing among them is a tall +heath six feet high, which they call there _bruyere_, or Broomheath, +because they make brooms of it: and out of its roots the "briar-root" +pipes are made. There are other heaths about that country, too, whose +names I do not know; so that when you are there, you fancy yourself in +the very home of the heaths: but you are not. They must have come from +some land near where the Azores are now; or how could heaths have got +past Africa, and the tropics, to the Cape of Good Hope? + +It seems very wonderful, to be able to find out that there was a great +land once in the ocean all by a few little heaths. + +Not by them only, child. There are many other plants, and animals too, +which make one think that so it must have been. And now I will tell you +something stranger still. There may have been a time--some people say +that there must--when Africa and South America were joined by land. + +Africa and South America! Was that before the heaths came here, or +after? + +I cannot tell: but I think, probably after. But this is certain, that +there must have been a time when figs, and bamboos, and palms, and +sarsaparillas, and many other sorts of plants could get from Africa to +America, or the other way, and indeed almost round the world. About the +south of France and Italy you will see one beautiful sarsaparilla, with +hooked prickles, zigzagging and twining about over rocks and ruins, +trunks and stems: and when you do, if you have understanding, it will +seem as strange to you as it did to me to remember that the home of the +sarsaparillas is not in Europe, but in the forests of Brazil, and the +River Plate. + +Oh, I have heard about their growing there, and staining the rivers +brown, and making them good medicine to drink: but I never thought there +were any in Europe. + +There are only one or two, and how they got there is a marvel indeed. But +now--If there was not dry land between Africa and South America, how did +the cats get into America? For they cannot swim. + +Cats? People might have brought them over. + +Jaguars and Pumas, which you read of in Captain Mayne Reid's books, are +cats, and so are the Ocelots or tiger cats. + +Oh, I saw them at the Zoological Gardens. + +But no one would bring them over, I should think, except to put them in +the Zoo. + +Not unless they were very foolish. + +And much stronger and cleverer than the savages of South America. No, +those jaguars and pumus have been in America for ages: and there are +those who will tell you--and I think they have some reason on their +side--that the jaguar, with his round patches of spots, was once very +much the same as the African and Indian leopard, who can climb trees +well. So when he got into the tropic forests of America, he took to the +trees, and lived among the branches, feeding on sloths and monkeys, and +never coming to the ground for weeks, till he grew fatter and stronger +and far more terrible than his forefathers. And they will tell you, too, +that the puma was, perhaps--I only say perhaps--something like the lion, +who (you know) has no spots. But when he got into the forests, he found +very little food under the trees, only a very few deer; and so he was +starved, and dwindled down to the poor little sheep-stealing rogue he is +now, of whom nobody is afraid. + +Oh, yes! I remember now A. said he and his men killed six in one day. +But do you think it is all true about the pumas and jaguars? + +My child, I don't say that it is true: but only that it is likely to be +true. In science we must be cautious and modest, and ready to alter our +minds whenever we learn fresh facts; only keeping sure of one thing, that +the truth, when we find it out, will be far more wonderful than any +notions of ours. See! As we have been talking we have got nearly home: +and luncheon must be ready. + +* * * * * + +Why are you opening your eyes at me like the dog when he wants to go out +walking? + +Because I want to go out. But I don't want to go out walking. I want to +go in the yacht. + +In the yacht? It does not belong to me. + +Oh, that is only fun. I know everybody is going out in it to see such a +beautiful island full of ferns, and have a picnic on the rocks; and I +know you are going. + +Then you know more than I do myself. + +But I heard them say you were going. + +Then they know more than I do myself. + +But would you not like to go? + +I might like to go very much indeed; but as I have been knocked about at +sea a good deal, and perhaps more than I intend to be again, it is no +novelty to me, and there might be other things which I liked still +better: for instance, spending the afternoon with you. + +Then am I not to go? + +I think not. Don't pull such a long face: but be a man, and make up your +mind to it, as the geese do to going barefoot. + +But why may I not go? + +Because I am not Madam How, but your Daddy. + +What can that have to do with it? + +If you asked Madam How, do you know what she would answer in a moment, as +civilly and kindly as could be? She would say--Oh yes, go by all means, +and please yourself, my pretty little man. My world is the Paradise +which the Irishman talked of, in which "a man might do what was right in +the sight of his own eyes, and what was wrong too, as he liked it." + +Then Madam How would let me go in the yacht? + +Of course she would, or jump overboard when you were in it; or put your +finger in the fire, and your head afterwards; or eat Irish spurge, and +die like the salmon; or anything else you liked. Nobody is so indulgent +as Madam How: and she would be the dearest old lady in the world, but for +one ugly trick that she has. She never tells any one what is coming, but +leaves them to find it out for themselves. She lets them put their +fingers in the fire, and never tells them that they will get burnt. + +But that is very cruel and treacherous of her. + +My boy, our business is not to call hard names, but to take things as we +find them, as the Highlandman said when he ate the braxy mutton. Now +shall I, because I am your Daddy, tell you what Madam How would not have +told you? When you get on board the yacht, you will think it all very +pleasant for an hour, as long as you are in the bay. But presently you +will get a little bored, and run about the deck, and disturb people, and +want to sit here, there, and everywhere, which I should not like. And +when you get beyond that headland, you will find the great rollers coming +in from the Atlantic, and the cutter tossing and heaving as you never +felt before, under a burning sun. And then my merry little young +gentleman will begin to feel a little sick; and then very sick, and more +miserable than he ever felt in his life; and wish a thousand times over +that he was safe at home, even doing sums in long division; and he will +give a great deal of trouble to various kind ladies--which no one has a +right to do, if he can help it. + +Of course I do not wish to be sick: only it looks such beautiful weather. + +And so it is: but don't fancy that last night's rain and wind can have +passed without sending in such a swell as will frighten you, when you see +the cutter climbing up one side of a wave, and running down the other; +Madam How tells me that, though she will not tell you yet. + +Then why do they go out? + +Because they are accustomed to it. They have come hither all round from +Cowes, past the Land's End, and past Cape Clear, and they are not afraid +or sick either. But shall I tell you how you would end this evening?--at +least so I suspect. Lying miserable in a stuffy cabin, on a sofa, and +not quite sure whether you were dead or alive, till you were bundled into +a boat about twelve o'clock at night, when you ought to be safe asleep, +and come home cold, and wet, and stupid, and ill, and lie in bed all to- +morrow. + +But will they be wet and cold? + +I cannot be sure; but from the look of the sky there to westward, I think +some of them will be. So do you make up your mind to stay with me. But +if it is fine and smooth to-morrow, perhaps we may row down the bay, and +see plenty of wonderful things. + +But why is it that Madam How will not tell people beforehand what will +happen to them, as you have told me? + +Now I will tell you a great secret, which, alas! every one has not found +out yet. Madam How will teach you, but only by experience. Lady Why +will teach you, but by something very different--by something which has +been called--and I know no better names for it--grace and inspiration; by +putting into your heart feelings which no man, not even your father and +mother, can put there; by making you quick to love what is right, and +hate what is wrong, simply because they are right and wrong, though you +don't know why they are right and wrong; by making you teachable, modest, +reverent, ready to believe those who are older and wiser than you when +they tell you what you could never find out for yourself: and so you will +be prudent, that is provident, foreseeing, and know what will happen if +you do so-and-so; and therefore what is really best and wisest for you. + +But why will she be kind enough to do that for me? + +For the very same reason that I do it. For God's sake. Because God is +your Father in heaven, as I am your father on earth, and He does not wish +His little child to be left to the hard teaching of Nature and Law, but +to be helped on by many, many unsought and undeserved favours, such as +are rightly called "Means of Grace;" and above all by the Gospel and good +news that you are God's child, and that God loves you, and has helped and +taught you, and will help you and teach you, in a thousand ways of which +you are not aware, if only you will be a wise child, and listen to Lady +Why, when she cries from her Palace of Wisdom, and the feast which she +has prepared, "Whoso is simple let him turn in hither;" and says to him +who wants understanding--"Come, eat of my bread, and drink of the wine +which I have mingled." + +"Counsel is mine, and sound wisdom: I am understanding; I have strength. +By me kings reign, and princes decree justice. By me princes rule, and +nobles, even all the judges of the earth. I love them that love me; and +those that seek me early shall find me. Riches and honour are with me; +yea, durable riches and righteousness." + +Yes, I will try and listen to Lady Why: but what will happen if I do not? + +That will happen to you, my child--but God forbid it ever should +happen--which happens to wicked kings and rulers, and all men, even the +greatest and cleverest, if they do not choose to reign by Lady Why's +laws, and decree justice according to her eternal ideas of what is just, +but only do what seems pleasant and profitable to themselves. On them +Lady Why turns round, and says--for she, too, can be awful, ay dreadful, +when she needs-- + +"Because I have called, and ye refused; I have stretched out my hand, and +no man regarded; but ye have set at nought all my counsel, and would have +none of my reproof--" And then come words so terrible, that I will not +speak them here in this happy place: but what they mean is this:-- + +That these foolish people are handed over--as you and I shall be if we do +wrong wilfully--to Madam How and her terrible school-house, which is +called Nature and the Law, to be treated just as the plants and animals +are treated, because they did not choose to behave like men and children +of God. And there they learn, whether they like or not, what they might +have learnt from Lady Why all along. They learn the great law, that as +men sow so they will reap; as they make their bed so they will lie on it: +and Madam How can teach that as no one else can in earth or heaven: only, +unfortunately for her scholars, she is apt to hit so hard with her rod, +which is called Experience, that they never get over it; and therefore +most of those who will only be taught by Nature and Law are killed, poor +creatures, before they have learnt their lesson; as many a savage tribe +is destroyed, ay and great and mighty nations too--the old Roman Empire +among them. + +And the poor Jews, who were carried away captive to Babylon? + +Yes; they would not listen to Lady Why, and so they were taken in hand by +Madam How, and were seventy years in her terrible school-house, learning +a lesson which, to do them justice, they never forgot again. But now we +will talk of something pleasanter. We will go back to Lady Why, and +listen to her voice. It sounds gentle and cheerful enough just now. +Listen. + +What? is she speaking to us now? + +Hush! open your eyes and ears once more, for you are growing sleepy with +my long sermon. Watch the sleepy shining water, and the sleepy green +mountains. Listen to the sleepy lapping of the ripple, and the sleepy +sighing of the woods, and let Lady Why talk to you through them in "songs +without words," because they are deeper than all words, till you, too, +fall asleep with your head upon my knee. + +But what does she say? + +She says--"Be still. The fulness of joy is peace." There, you are fast +asleep; and perhaps that is the best thing for you; for sleep will (so I +am informed, though I never saw it happen, nor any one else) put fresh +gray matter into your brain; or save the wear and tear of the old gray +matter; or something else--when they have settled what it is to do: and +if so, you will wake up with a fresh fiddle-string to your little fiddle +of a brain, on which you are playing new tunes all day long. So much the +better: but when I believe that your brain is you, pretty boy, then I +shall believe also that the fiddler is his fiddle. + + + + +CHAPTER XII--HOMEWARD BOUND + + +Come: I suppose you consider yourself quite a good sailor by now? + +Oh, yes. I have never been ill yet, though it has been quite rough again +and again. + +What you call rough, little man. But as you are grown such a very good +sailor, and also as the sea is all but smooth, I think we will have a +sail in the yacht to-day, and that a tolerably long one. + +Oh, how delightful! but I thought we were going home; and the things are +all packed up. + +And why should we not go homewards in the yacht, things and all? + +What, all the way to England? + +No, not so far as that; but these kind people, when they came into the +harbour last night, offered to take us up the coast to a town, where we +will sleep, and start comfortably home to-morrow morning. So now you +will have a chance of seeing something of the great sea outside, and of +seeing, perhaps, the whale himself. + +I hope we shall see the whale. The men say he has been outside the +harbour every day this week after the fish. + +Very good. Now do you keep quiet, and out of the way, while we are +getting ready to go on board; and take a last look at this pretty place, +and all its dear kind people. + +And the dear kind dogs too, and the cat and the kittens. + +* * * * * + +Now, come along, and bundle into the boat, if you have done bidding every +one good-bye; and take care you don't slip down in the ice-groovings, as +you did the other day. There, we are off at last. + +Oh, look at them all on the rock watching us and waving their +handkerchiefs; and Harper and Paddy too, and little Jimsy and Isy, with +their fat bare feet, and their arms round the dogs' necks. I am so sorry +to leave them all. + +Not sorry to go home? + +No, but--They have been so kind; and the dogs were so kind. I am sure +they knew we were going, and were sorry too. + +Perhaps they were. They knew we were going away, at all events. They +know what bringing out boxes and luggage means well enough. + +Sam knew, I am sure; but he did not care for us. He was only uneasy +because he thought Harper was going, and he should lose his shooting; and +as soon as he saw Harper was not getting into the boat, he sat down and +scratched himself, quite happy. But do dogs think? + +Of course they do, only they do not think in words, as we do. + +But how can they think without words? + +That is very difficult for you and me to imagine, because we always think +in words. They must think in pictures, I suppose, by remembering things +which have happened to them. You and I do that in our dreams. I suspect +that savages, who have very few words to express their thoughts with, +think in pictures, like their own dogs. But that is a long story. We +must see about getting on board now, and under way. + +* * * * * + +Well, and what have you been doing? + +Oh, I looked all over the yacht, at the ropes and curious things; and +then I looked at the mountains, till I was tired; and then I heard you +and some gentleman talking about the land sinking, and I listened. There +was no harm in that? + +None at all. But what did you hear him say? + +That the land must be sinking here, because there were peat-bogs +everywhere below high-water mark. Is that true? + +Quite true; and that peat would never have been formed where the salt +water could get at it, as it does now every tide. + +But what was it he said about that cliff over there? + +He said that cliff on our right, a hundred feet high, was plainly once +joined on to that low island on our left. + +What, that long bank of stones, with a house on it? + +That is no house. That is a square lump of mud, the last remaining bit +of earth which was once the moraine of a glacier. Every year it crumbles +into the sea more and more; and in a few years it will be all gone, and +nothing left but the great round boulder-stones which the ice brought +down from the glaciers behind us. + +But how does he know that it was once joined to the cliff? + +Because that cliff, and the down behind it, where the cows are fed, is +made up, like the island, of nothing but loose earth and stones; and that +is why it is bright and green beside the gray rocks and brown heather of +the moors at its foot. He knows that it must be an old glacier moraine; +and he has reason to think that moraine once stretched right across the +bay to the low island, and perhaps on to the other shore, and was eaten +out by the sea as the land sank down. + +But how does he know that the land sank? + +Of that, he says, he is quite certain; and this is what he says.--Suppose +there was a glacier here, where we are sailing now: it would end in an +ice cliff, such as you have seen a picture of in Captain Cook's Voyages, +of which you are so fond. You recollect the pictures of Christmas Sound +and Possession Bay? + +Oh yes, and pictures of Greenland and Spitzbergen too, with glaciers in +the sea. + +Then icebergs would break off from that cliff, and carry all the dirt and +stones out to sea, perhaps hundreds of miles away, instead of letting it +drop here in a heap; and what did fall in a heap here the sea would wash +down at once, and smooth it over the sea-bottom, and never let it pile up +in a huge bank like that. Do you understand? + +I think I do. + +Therefore, he says, that great moraine must have been built upon dry +land, in the open air; and must have sunk since into the sea, which is +gnawing at it day and night, and will some day eat it all up, as it would +eat up all the dry land in the world, if Madam How was not continually +lifting up fresh land, to make up for what the sea has carried off. + +Oh, look there! some one has caught a fish, and is hauling it up. What a +strange creature! It is not a mackerel, nor a gurnet, nor a pollock. + +How do you know that? + +Why, it is running along the top of the water like a snake; and they +never do that. Here it comes. It has got a long beak, like a snipe. Oh, +let me see. + +See if you like: but don't get in the way. Remember you are but a little +boy. + +What is it? a snake with a bird's head? + +No: a snake has no fins; and look at its beak: it is full of little +teeth, which no bird has. But a very curious fellow he is, nevertheless: +and his name is Gar-fish. Some call him Green-bone, because his bones +are green. + +But what kind of fish is he? He is like nothing I ever saw. + +I believe he is nearest to a pike, though his backbone is different from +a pike, and from all other known fishes. + +But is he not very rare? + +Oh no: he comes to Devonshire and Cornwall with the mackerel, as he has +come here; and in calm weather he will swim on the top of the water, and +play about, and catch flies, and stand bolt upright with his long nose in +the air; and when the fisher-boys throw him a stick, he will jump over it +again and again, and play with it in the most ridiculous way. + +And what will they do with him? + +Cut him up for bait, I suppose, for he is not very good to eat. + +Certainly, he does smell very nasty. + +Have you only just found out that? Sometimes when I have caught one, he +has made the boat smell so that I was glad to throw him overboard, and so +he saved his life by his nastiness. But they will catch plenty of +mackerel now; for where he is they are; and where they are, perhaps the +whale will be; for we are now well outside the harbour, and running +across the open bay; and lucky for you that there are no rollers coming +in from the Atlantic, and spouting up those cliffs in columns of white +foam. + +* * * * * + +"Hoch!" + +Ah! Who was that coughed just behind the ship? + +Who, indeed? look round and see. + +There is nobody. There could not be in the sea. + +Look--there, a quarter of a mile away. + +Oh! What is that turning over in the water, like a great black wheel? +And a great tooth on it, and--oh! it is gone! + +Never mind. It will soon show itself again. + +But what was it? + +The whale: one of them, at least; for the men say there are two different +ones about the bay. That black wheel was part of his back, as he turned +down; and the tooth on it was his back-fin. + +But the noise, like a giant's cough? + +Rather like the blast of a locomotive just starting. That was his +breath. + +What? as loud as that? + +Why not? He is a very big fellow, and has big lungs. + +How big is he? + +I cannot say: perhaps thirty or forty feet long. We shall be able to see +better soon. He will come up again, and very likely nearer us, where +those birds are. + +I don't want him to come any nearer. + +You really need not be afraid. He is quite harmless. + +But he might run against the yacht. + +He might: and so might a hundred things happen which never do. But I +never heard of one of these whales running against a vessel; so I suppose +he has sense enough to know that the yacht is no concern of his, and to +keep out of its way. + +But why does he make that tremendous noise only once, and then go under +water again? + +You must remember that he is not a fish. A fish takes the water in +through his mouth continually, and it runs over his gills, and out behind +through his gill-covers. So the gills suck-up the air out of the water, +and send it into the fish's blood, just as they do in the newt-larva. + +Yes, I know. + +But the whale breathes with lungs like you and me; and when he goes under +water he has to hold his breath, as you and I have. + +What a long time he can hold it. + +Yes. He is a wonderful diver. Some whales, they say, will keep under +for an hour. But while he is under, mind, the air in his lungs is +getting foul, and full of carbonic acid, just as it would in your lungs, +if you held your breath. So he is forced to come up at last: and then +out of his blowers, which are on the top of his head, he blasts out all +the foul breath, and with it the water which has got into his mouth, in a +cloud of spray. Then he sucks in fresh air, as much as he wants, and +dives again, as you saw him do just now. + +And what does he do under water? + +Look--and you will see. Look at those birds. We will sail up to them; +for Mr. Whale will probably rise among them soon. + +Oh, what a screaming and what a fighting! How many sorts there are! What +are those beautiful little ones, like great white swallows, with crested +heads and forked tails, who hover, and then dip down and pick up +something? + +Terns--sea-swallows. And there are gulls in hundreds, you see, large and +small, gray-backed and black-backed; and over them all two or three great +gannets swooping round and round. + +Oh! one has fallen into the sea! + +Yes, with a splash just like a cannon ball. And here he comes up again, +with a fish in his beak. If he had fallen on your head, with that beak +of his, he would have split it open. I have heard of men catching +gannets by tying a fish on a board, and letting it float; and when the +gannet strikes at it he drives his bill into the board, and cannot get it +out. + +But is not that cruel? + +I think so. Gannets are of no use, for eating, or anything else. + +What a noise! It is quite deafening. And what are those black birds +about, who croak like crows, or parrots? + +Look at them. Some have broad bills, with a white stripe on it, and cry +something like the moor-hens at home. Those are razor-bills. + +And what are those who say "marrock," something like a parrot? + +The ones with thin bills? they are guillemots, "murres" as we call them +in Devon: but in some places they call them "marrocks," from what they +say. + +And each has a little baby bird swimming behind it. Oh! there: the +mother has cocked up her tail and dived, and the little one is swimming +about looking for her! How it cries! It is afraid of the yacht. + +And there she comes up again, and cries "marrock" to call it. + +Look at it swimming up to her, and cuddling to her, quite happy. + +Quite happy. And do you not think that any one who took a gun and shot +either that mother or that child would be both cowardly and cruel? + +But they might eat them. + +These sea-birds are not good to eat. They taste too strong of fish-oil. +They are of no use at all, except that the gulls' and terns' feathers are +put into girls' hats. + +Well they might find plenty of other things to put in their hats. + +So I think. Yes: it would be very cruel, very cruel indeed, to do what +some do, shoot at these poor things, and leave them floating about +wounded till they die. But I suppose, if one gave them one's mind about +such doings, and threatened to put the new Sea Fowl Act in force against +them, and fine them, and show them up in the newspapers, they would say +they meant no harm, and had never thought about its being cruel. + +Then they ought to think. + +They ought; and so ought you. Half the cruelty in the world, like half +the misery, comes simply from people's not thinking; and boys are often +very cruel from mere thoughtlessness. So when you are tempted to rob +birds' nests, or to set the dogs on a moorhen, or pelt wrens in the +hedge, think; and say--How should I like that to be done to me? + +I know: but what are all the birds doing? + +Look at the water, how it sparkles. It is alive with tiny fish, "fry," +"brett" as we call them in the West, which the mackerel are driving up to +the top. + +Poor little things! How hard on them! The big fish at them from below, +and the birds at them from above. And what is that? Thousands of fish +leaping out of the water, scrambling over each other's backs. What a +curious soft rushing roaring noise they make! + +Aha! The eaters are going to be eaten in turn. Those are the mackerel +themselves; and I suspect they see Mr. Whale, and are scrambling out of +the way as fast as they can, lest he should swallow them down, a dozen at +a time. Look out sharp for him now. + +I hope he will not come very near. + +No. The fish are going from us and past us. If he comes up, he will +come up astern of us, so look back. There he is! + +That? I thought it was a boat. + +Yes. He does look very like a boat upside down. But that is only his +head and shoulders. He will blow next. + +"Hoch!" + +Oh! What a jet of spray, like the Geysers! And the sun made a rainbow +on the top of it. He is quite still now. + +Yes; he is taking a long breath or two. You need not hold my hand so +tight. His head is from us; and when he goes down he will go right away. + +Oh, he is turning head over heels! There is his back fin again. And--Ah! +was that not a slap! How the water boiled and foamed; and what a tail he +had! And how the mackerel flew out of the water! + +Yes. You are a lucky boy to have seen that. I have not seen one of +those gentlemen show his "flukes," as they call them, since I was a boy +on the Cornish coast. + +Where is he gone? + +Hunting mackerel, away out at sea. But did you notice something odd +about his tail, as you call it--though it is really none? + +It looked as if it was set on flat, and not upright, like a fish's. But +why is it not a tail? + +Just because it is set on flat, not upright: and learned men will tell +you that those two flukes are the "rudiments"--that is, either the +beginning, or more likely the last remains--of two hind feet. But that +belongs to the second volume of Madam How's Book of Kind; and you have +not yet learned any of the first volume, you know, except about a few +butterflies. Look here! Here are more whales coming. Don't be +frightened. They are only little ones, mackerel-hunting, like the big +one. + +What pretty smooth things, turning head over heels, and saying, "Hush, +Hush!" + +They don't really turn clean over; and that "Hush" is their way of +breathing. + +Are they the young ones of that great monster? + +No; they are porpoises. That big one is, I believe, a bottle-nose. But +if you want to know about the kinds of whales, you must ask Dr. Flower at +the Royal College of Surgeons, and not me: and he will tell you wonderful +things about them.--How some of them have mouths full of strong teeth, +like these porpoises; and others, like the great sperm whale in the South +Sea, have huge teeth in their lower jaws, and in the upper only holes +into which those teeth fit; others like the bottle-nose, only two teeth +or so in the lower jaw; and others, like the narwhal, two straight tusks +in the upper jaw, only one of which grows, and is what you call a +narwhal's horn. + +Oh yes. I know of a walking-stick made of one. + +And strangest of all, how the right-whales have a few little teeth when +they are born, which never come through the gums; but, instead, they grow +all along their gums, an enormous curtain of clotted hair, which serves +as a net to keep in the tiny sea-animals on which they feed, and let the +water strain out. + +You mean whalebone? Is whalebone hair? + +So it seems. And so is a rhinoceros's horn. A rhinoceros used to be +hairy all over in old times: but now he carries all his hair on the end +of his nose, except a few bristles on his tail. And the right-whale, not +to be done in oddity, carries all his on his gums. + +But have no whales any hair? + +No real whales: but the Manati, which is very nearly a whale, has long +bristly hair left. Don't you remember M.'s letter about the one he saw +at Rio Janeiro? + +This is all very funny: but what is the use of knowing so much about +things' teeth and hair? + +What is the use of learning Latin and Greek, and a dozen things more +which you have to learn? You don't know yet: but wiser people than you +tell you that they will be of use some day. And I can tell you, that if +you would only study that gar-fish long enough, and compare him with +another fish something like him, who has a long beak to his lower jaw, +and none to his upper--and how he eats I cannot guess,--and both of them +again with certain fishes like them, which M. Agassiz has found lately, +not in the sea, but in the river Amazon; and then think carefully enough +over their bones and teeth, and their history from the time they are +hatched--why, you would find out, I believe, a story about the river +Amazon itself, more wonderful than all the fairy tales you ever read. + +Now there is luncheon ready. Come down below, and don't tumble down the +companion-stairs; and by the time you have eaten your dinner we shall be +very near the shore. + +* * * * * + +So? Here is my little man on deck, after a good night's rest. And he +has not been the least sick, I hear. + +Not a bit: but the cabin was so stuffy and hot, I asked leave to come on +deck. What a huge steamer! But I do not like it as well as the yacht. +It smells of oil and steam, and-- + +And pigs and bullocks too, I am sorry to say. Don't go forward above +them, but stay here with me, and look round. + +Where are we now? What are those high hills, far away to the left, above +the lowlands and woods? + +Those are the shore of the Old World--the Welsh mountains. + +And in front of us I can see nothing but flat land. Where is that? + +That is the mouth of the Severn and Avon; where we shall be in half an +hour more. + +And there, on the right, over the low hills, I can see higher ones, blue +and hazy. + +Those are an island of the Old World, called now the Mendip Hills; and we +are steaming along the great strait between the Mendips and the Welsh +mountains, which once was coral reef, and is now the Severn sea; and by +the time you have eaten your breakfast we shall steam in through a crack +in that coral-reef; and you will see what you missed seeing when you went +to Ireland, because you went on board at night. + +* * * * * + +Oh! Where have we got to now? Where is the wide Severn Sea? + +Two or three miles beyond us; and here we are in narrow little Avon. + +Narrow indeed. I wonder that the steamer does not run against those +rocks. But how beautiful they are, and how the trees hang down over the +water, and are all reflected in it! + +Yes. The gorge of the Avon is always lovely. I saw it first when I was +a little boy like you; and I have seen it many a time since, in sunshine +and in storm, and thought it more lovely every time. Look! there is +something curious. + +What? Those great rusty rings fixed into the rock? + +Yes. Those may be as old, for aught I know, as Queen Elizabeth's or +James's reign. + +But why were they put there? + +For ships to hold on by, if they lost the tide. + +What do you mean? + +It is high tide now. That is why the water is almost up to the branches +of the trees. But when the tide turns, it will all rush out in a torrent +which would sweep ships out to sea again, if they had not steam, as we +have, to help them up against the stream. So sailing ships, in old +times, fastened themselves to those rings, and rode against the stream +till the tide turned, and carried them up to Bristol. + +But what is the tide? And why does it go up and down? And why does it +alter with the moon, as I heard you all saying so often in Ireland? + +That is a long story, which I must tell you something about some other +time. Now I want you to look at something else: and that is, the rocks +themselves, in which the rings are. They are very curious in my eyes, +and very valuable; for they taught me a lesson in geology when I was +quite a boy: and I want them to teach it to you now. + +What is there curious in them? + +This. You will soon see for yourself, even from the steamer's deck, that +they are not the same rock as the high limestone hills above. They are +made up of red sand and pebbles; and they are a whole world younger, +indeed some say two worlds younger, than the limestone hills above, and +lie upon the top of the limestone. Now you may see what I meant when I +said that the newer rocks, though they lie on the top of the older, were +often lower down than they are. + +But how do you know that they lie on the limestone? + +Look into that corner of the river, as we turn round, and you will see +with your own eyes. There are the sandstones, lying flat on the turned- +up edges of another rock. + +Yes; I see. The layers of it are almost upright. + +Then that upright rock underneath is part of the great limestone hill +above. So the hill must have been raised out of the sea, ages ago, and +eaten back by the waves; and then the sand and pebbles made a beach at +its foot, and hardened into stone; and there it is. And when you get +through the limestone hills to Bristol, you will see more of these same +red sandstone rocks, spread about at the foot of the limestone-hills, on +the other side. + +But why is the sandstone two worlds newer than the limestone? + +Because between that sandstone and that limestone come hundreds of feet +of rock, which carry in them all the coal in England. Don't you remember +that I told you that once before? + +Oh yes. But I see no coal between them there. + +No. But there is plenty of coal between them over in Wales; and plenty +too between them on the other side of Bristol. What you are looking at +there is just the lip of a great coal-box, where the bottom and the lid +join. The bottom is the mountain limestone; and the lid is the new red +sandstone, or Trias, as they call it now: but the coal you cannot see. It +is stowed inside the box, miles away from here. But now, look at the +cliffs and the downs, which (they tell me) are just like the downs in the +Holy Land; and the woods and villas, high over your head. + +And what is that in the air? A bridge? + +Yes--that is the famous Suspension Bridge--and a beautiful work of art it +is. Ay, stare at it, and wonder at it, little man, of course. + +But is it not wonderful? + +Yes: it was a clever trick to get those chains across the gulf, high up +in the air: but not so clever a trick as to make a single stone of which +those piers are built, or a single flower or leaf in those woods. The +more you see of Madam How's masonry and carpentry, the clumsier man's +work will look to you. But now we must get ready to give up our tickets, +and go ashore, and settle ourselves in the train; and then we shall have +plenty to see as we run home; more curious, to my mind, than any +suspension bridge. + +And you promised to show me all the different rocks and soils as we went +home, because it was so dark when we came from Reading. + +Very good. + +* * * * * + +Now we are settled in the train. And what do you want to know first? + +More about the new rocks being lower than the old ones, though they lie +on the top of them. + +Well, look here, at this sketch. + +A boy piling up slates? What has that to do with it? + +I saw you in Ireland piling slates against a rock just in this way. And +I thought to myself--"That is something like Madam How's work." + +How? + +Why, see. The old rock stands for the mountains of the Old World, like +the Welsh mountains, or the Mendip Hills. The slates stand for the new +rocks, which have been piled up against these, one over the other. But, +you see, each slate is lower than the one before it, and slopes more; +till the last slate which you are putting on is the lowest of all, though +it overlies all. + +I see now. I see now. + +Then look at the sketch of the rocks between this and home. It is only a +rough sketch, of course: but it will make you understand something more +about the matter. Now. You see, the lump marked A. With twisted lines +in it. That stands for the Mendip Hills to the west, which are made of +old red sandstone, very much the same rock (to speak roughly) as the +Kerry mountains. + +And why are the lines in it twisted? + +To show that the strata, the layers in it, are twisted, and set up at +quite different angles from the limestone. + +But how was that done? + +By old earthquakes and changes which happened in old worlds, ages on ages +since. Then the edges of the old red sandstone were eaten away by the +sea--and some think by ice too, in some earlier age of ice; and then the +limestone coral reef was laid down on them, "unconformably," as +geologists say--just as you saw the new red sandstone laid down on the +edges of the limestone; and so one world is built up on the edge of +another world, out of its scraps and ruins. + +Then do you see B. With a notch in it? That means these limestone hills +on the shoulder of the Mendips; and that notch is the gorge of the Avon +which we have steamed through. + +And what is that black above it? + +That is the coal, a few miles off, marked C. + +And what is this D, which comes next? + +That is what we are on now. New red sandstone, lying unconformably on +the coal. I showed it you in the bed of the river, as we came along in +the cab. We are here in a sort of amphitheatre, or half a one, with the +limestone hills around us, and the new red sandstone plastered on, as it +were, round the bottom of it inside. + +But what is this high bit with E against it? + +Those are the high hills round Bath, which we shall run through soon. +They are newer than the soil here; and they are (for an exception) higher +too; for they are so much harder than the soil here, that the sea has not +eaten them away, as it has all the lowlands from Bristol right into the +Somersetshire flats. + +* * * * * + +There. We are off at last, and going to run home to Reading, through one +of the loveliest lines (as I think) of old England. And between the +intervals of eating fruit, we will geologize on the way home, with this +little bit of paper to show us where we are. + +What pretty rocks! + +Yes. They are a boss of the coal measures, I believe, shoved up with the +lias, the lias lying round them. But I warn you I may not be quite +right: because I never looked at a geological map of this part of the +line, and have learnt what I know, just as I want you to learn simply by +looking out of the carriage window. + +Look. Here is lias rock in the side of the cutting; layers of hard blue +limestone, and then layers of blue mud between them, in which, if you +could stop to look, you would find fossils in plenty; and along that lias +we shall run to Bath, and then all the rocks will change. + +* * * * * + +Now, here we are at Bath; and here are the handsome fruit-women, waiting +for you to buy. + +And oh, what strawberries and cherries! + +Yes. All this valley is very rich, and very sheltered too, and very +warm; for the soft south-western air sweeps up it from the Bristol +Channel; so the slopes are covered with fruit-orchards, as you will see +as you get out of the station. + +Why, we are above the tops of the houses. + +Yes. We have been rising ever since we left Bristol; and you will soon +see why. Now we have laid in as much fruit as is safe for you, and away +we go. + +Oh, what high hills over the town! And what beautiful stone houses! Even +the cottages are built of stone. + +All that stone comes out of those high hills, into which we are going +now. It is called Bath-stone freestone, or oolite; and it lies on the +top of the lias, which we have just left. Here it is marked F. + +What steep hills, and cliffs too, and with quarries in them! What can +have made them so steep? And what can have made this little narrow +valley? + +Madam How's rain-spade from above, I suppose, and perhaps the sea gnawing +at their feet below. Those freestone hills once stretched high over our +heads, and far away, I suppose, to the westward. Now they are all gnawed +out into cliffs,--indeed gnawed clean through in the bottom of the +valley, where the famous hot springs break out in which people bathe. + +Is that why the place is called Bath? + +Of course. But the Old Romans called the place Aquae Solis--the waters +of the sun; and curious old Roman remains are found here, which we have +not time to stop and see. + +Now look out at the pretty clear limestone stream running to meet us +below, and the great limestone hills closing over us above. How do you +think we shall get out from among them? + +Shall we go over their tops? + +No. That would be too steep a climb, for even such a great engine as +this. + +Then there is a crack which we can get through? + +Look and see. + +Why, we are coming to a regular wall of hill, and-- + +And going right through it in the dark. We are in the Box Tunnel. + +* * * * * + +There is the light again: and now I suppose you will find your tongue. + +How long it seemed before we came out! + +Yes, because you were waiting and watching, with nothing to look at: but +the tunnel is only a mile and a quarter long after all, I believe. If +you had been looking at fields and hedgerows all the while, you would +have thought no time at all had passed. + +What curious sandy rocks on each side of the cutting, in lines and +layers. + +Those are the freestone still: and full of fossils they are. But do you +see that they dip away from us? Remember that. All the rocks are +sloping eastward, the way we are going; and each new rock or soil we come +to lies on the top of the one before it. Now we shall run down hill for +many a mile, down the back of the oolites, past pretty Chippenham, and +Wootton-Bassett, towards Swindon spire. Look at the country, child; and +thank God for this fair English land, in which your lot is cast. + +What beautiful green fields; and such huge elm trees; and orchards; and +flowers in the cottage gardens! + +Ay, and what crops, too: what wheat and beans, turnips and mangold. All +this land is very rich and easily worked; and hereabouts is some of the +best farming in England. The Agricultural College at Cirencester, of +which you have so often heard, lies thereaway, a few miles to our left; +and there lads go to learn to farm as no men in the world, save English +and Scotch, know how to farm. + +But what rock are we on now? + +On rock that is much softer than that on the other side of the oolite +hills: much softer, because it is much newer. We have got off the +oolites on to what is called the Oxford clay; and then, I believe, on to +the Coral rag, and on that again lies what we are coming to now. Do you +see the red sand in that field? + +Then that is the lowest layer of a fresh world, so to speak; a world +still younger than the oolites--the chalk world. + +But that is not chalk, or anything like it. + +No, that is what is called Greensand. + +But it is not green, it is red. + +I know: but years ago it got the name from one green vein in it, in which +the "Coprolites," as you learnt to call them at Cambridge, are found; and +that, and a little layer of blue clay, called gault, between the upper +Greensand and lower Greensand, runs along everywhere at the foot of the +chalk hills. + +I see the hills now. Are they chalk? + +Yes, chalk they are: so we may begin to feel near home now. See how they +range away to the south toward Devizes, and Westbury, and Warminster, a +goodly land and large. At their feet, everywhere, run the rich pastures +on which the Wiltshire cheese is made; and here and there, as at +Westbury, there is good iron-ore in the greensand, which is being smelted +now, as it used to be in the Weald of Surrey and Kent ages since. I must +tell you about that some other time. + +But are there Coprolites here? + +I believe there are: I know there are some at Swindon; and I do not see +why they should not be found, here and there, all the way along the foot +of the downs, from here to Cambridge. + +But do these downs go to Cambridge? + +Of course they do. We are now in the great valley which runs right +across England from south-west to north-east, from Axminster in +Devonshire to Hunstanton in Norfolk, with the chalk always on your right +hand, and the oolite hills on your left, till it ends by sinking into the +sea, among the fens of Lincolnshire and Norfolk. + +But what made that great valley? + +I am not learned enough to tell. Only this I think we can say--that once +on a time these chalk downs on our right reached high over our heads +here, and far to the north; and that Madam How pared them away, whether +by icebergs, or by sea-waves, or merely by rain, I cannot tell. + +Well, those downs do look very like sea-cliffs. + +So they do, very like an old shore-line. Be that as it may, after the +chalk was eaten away, Madam How began digging into the soils below the +chalk, on which we are now; and because they were mostly soft clays, she +cut them out very easily, till she came down, or nearly down, to the +harder freestone rocks which run along on our left hand, miles away; and +so she scooped out this great vale, which we call here the Vale of White +Horse; and further on, the Vale of Aylesbury; and then the Bedford Level; +and then the dear ugly old Fens. + +Is this the Vale of White Horse? Oh, I know about it; I have read _The +Scouring of the White Horse_. + +Of course you have; and when you are older you will read a jollier book +still,--_Tom Brown's School Days_--and when we have passed Swindon, we +shall see some of the very places described in it, close on our right. + +* * * * * + +There is the White Horse Hill. + +The White Horse Hill? But where is the horse? I can see a bit of him: +but he does not look like a horse from here, or indeed from any other +place; he is a very old horse indeed, and a thousand years of wind and +rain have spoilt his anatomy a good deal on the top of that wild down. + +And is that really where Alfred fought the Danes? + +As certainly, boy, I believe, as that Waterloo is where the Duke fought +Napoleon. Yes: you may well stare at it with all your eyes, the noble +down. It is one of the most sacred spots on English soil. + +Ah, it is gone now. The train runs so fast. + +So it does; too fast to let you look long at one thing: but in return, it +lets you see so many more things in a given time than the slow old +coaches and posters did.--Well? what is it? + +I wanted to ask you a question, but you won't listen to me. + +Won't I? I suppose I was dreaming with my eyes open. You see, I have +been so often along this line--and through this country, too, long before +the line was made--that I cannot pass it without its seeming full of +memories--perhaps of ghosts. + +Of real ghosts? + +As real ghosts, I suspect, as any one on earth ever saw; faces and scenes +which have printed themselves so deeply on one's brain, that when one +passes the same place, long years after, they start up again, out of +fields and roadsides, as if they were alive once more, and need sound +sense to send them back again into their place as things which are past +for ever, for good and ill. But what did you want to know? + +Why, I am so tired of looking out of the window. It is all the same: +fields and hedges, hedges and fields; and I want to talk. + +Fields and hedges, hedges and fields? Peace and plenty, plenty and +peace. However, it may seem dull, now that the grass is cut; but you +would not have said so two months ago, when the fields were all golden- +green with buttercups, and the whitethorn hedges like crested waves of +snow. I should like to take a foreigner down the Vale of Berkshire in +the end of May, and ask him what he thought of old England. But what +shall we talk about? + +I want to know about Coprolites, if they dig them here, as they do at +Cambridge. + +I don't think they do. But I suspect they will some day. + +But why do people dig them? + +Because they are rational men, and want manure for their fields. + +But what are Coprolites? + +Well, they were called Coprolites at first because some folk fancied they +were the leavings of fossil animals, such as you may really find in the +lias at Lynn in Dorsetshire. But they are not that; and all we can say +is, that a long time ago, before the chalk began to be made, there was a +shallow sea in England, the shore of which was so covered with dead +animals, that the bone-earth (the phosphate of lime) out of them crusted +itself round every bone, and shell, and dead sea-beast on the shore, and +got covered up with fresh sand, and buried for ages as a mine of wealth. + +But how many millions of dead creatures, there must have been! What +killed them? + +We do not know. No more do we know how it comes to pass that this thin +band (often only a few inches thick) of dead creatures should stretch all +the way from Dorsetshire to Norfolk, and, I believe, up through +Lincolnshire. And what is stranger still, this same bone-earth bed crops +out on the south side of the chalk at Farnham, and stretches along the +foot of those downs, right into Kent, making the richest hop lands in +England, through Surrey, and away to Tunbridge. So that it seems as if +the bed lay under the chalk everywhere, if once we could get down to it. + +But how does it make the hop lands so rich? + +Because hops, like tobacco and vines, take more phosphorus out of the +soil than any other plants which we grow in England; and it is the +washings of this bone-earth bed which make the lower lands in Farnham so +unusually rich, that in some of them--the garden, for instance, under the +Bishop's castle--have grown hops without resting, I believe, for three +hundred years. + +But who found out all this about the Coprolites? + +Ah--I will tell you; and show you how scientific men, whom ignorant +people sometimes laugh at as dreamers, and mere pickers up of useless +weeds and old stones, may do real service to their country and their +countrymen, as I hope you will some day. + +There was a clergyman named Henslow, now with God, honoured by all +scientific men, a kind friend and teacher of mine, loved by every little +child in his parish. His calling was botany: but he knew something of +geology. And some of these Coprolites were brought him as curiosities, +because they had fossils in them. But he (so the tale goes) had the wit +to see that they were not, like other fossils, carbonate of lime, but +phosphate of lime--bone earth. Whereon he told the neighbouring farmers +that they had a mine of wealth opened to them, if they would but use them +for manure. And after a while he was listened to. Then others began to +find them in the Eastern counties; and then another man, as learned and +wise as he was good and noble--John Paine of Farnham, also now with +God--found them on his own estate, and made much use and much money of +them: and now tens of thousands of pounds' worth of valuable manure are +made out of them every year, in Cambridgeshire and Bedfordshire, by +digging them out of land which was till lately only used for common +farmers' crops. + +But how do they turn Coprolites into manure? I used to see them in the +railway trucks at Cambridge, and they were all like what I have at +home--hard pebbles. + +They grind them first in a mill. Then they mix them with sulphuric acid +and water, and that melts them down, and parts them into two things. One +is sulphate of lime (gypsum, as it is commonly called), and which will +not dissolve in water, and is of little use. But the other is what is +called superphosphate of lime, which will dissolve in water; so that the +roots of the plants can suck it up: and that is one of the richest of +manures. + +Oh, I know: you put superphosphate on the grass last year. + +Yes. But not that kind; a better one still. The superphosphate from the +Copiolites is good; but the superphosphate from fresh bones is better +still, and therefore dearer, because it has in it the fibrine of the +bones, which is full of nitrogen, like gristle or meat; and all that has +been washed out of the bone-earth bed ages and ages ago. But you must +learn some chemistry to understand that. + +I should like to be a scientific man, if one can find out such really +useful things by science. + +Child, there is no saying what you might find out, or of what use you may +be to your fellow-men. A man working at science, however dull and dirty +his work may seem at times, is like one of those "chiffoniers," as they +call them in Paris--people who spend their lives in gathering rags and +sifting refuse, but who may put their hands at any moment upon some +precious jewel. And not only may you be able to help your neighbours to +find out what will give them health and wealth: but you may, if you can +only get them to listen to you, save them from many a foolish experiment, +which ends in losing money just for want of science. I have heard of a +man who, for want of science, was going to throw away great sums (I +believe he, luckily for him, never could raise the money) in boring for +coal in our Bagshot sands at home. The man thought that because there +was coal under the heather moors in the North, there must needs be coal +here likewise, when a geologist could have told him the contrary. There +was another man at Hennequin's Lodge, near the Wellington College, who +thought he would make the poor sands fertile by manuring them with whale +oil, of all things in the world. So he not only lost all the cost of his +whale oil, but made the land utterly barren, as it is unto this day; and +all for want of science. + +And I knew a manufacturer, too, who went to bore an Artesian well for +water, and hired a regular well-borer to do it. But, meanwhile he was +wise enough to ask a geologist of those parts how far he thought it was +down to the water. The geologist made his calculations, and said: + +"You will go through so many feet of Bagshot sand; and so many feet of +London clay; and so many feet of the Thanet beds between them and the +chalk: and then you will win water, at about 412 feet; but not, I think, +till then." + +The well-sinker laughed at that, and said, "He had no opinion of +geologists, and such-like. He never found any clay in England but what +he could get through in 150 feet." + +So he began to bore--150 feet, 200, 300: and then he began to look rather +silly; at last, at 405--only seven feet short of what the geologist had +foretold--up came the water in a regular spout. But, lo and behold, not +expecting to have to bore so deep, he had made his bore much too small; +and the sand out of the Thanet beds "blew up" into the bore, and closed +it. The poor manufacturer spent hundreds of pounds more in trying to get +the sand out, but in vain; and he had at last to make a fresh and much +larger well by the side of the old one, bewailing the day when he +listened to the well-sinker and not to the geologist, and so threw away +more than a thousand pounds. And there is an answer to what you asked on +board the yacht--What use was there in learning little matters of natural +history and science, which seemed of no use at all? And now, look out +again. Do you see any change in the country? + +What? + +Why, there to the left. + +There are high hills there now, as well as to the right. What are they? + +Chalk hills too. The chalk is on both sides of us now. These are the +Chilterns, all away to Ipsden and Nettlebed, and so on across Oxfordshire +and Buckinghamshire, and into Hertfordshire; and on again to Royston and +Cambridge, while below them lies the Vale of Aylesbury; you can just see +the beginning of it on their left. A pleasant land are those hills, and +wealthy; full of noble houses buried in the deep beech-woods, which once +were a great forest, stretching in a ring round the north of London, full +of deer and boar, and of wild bulls too, even as late as the twelfth +century, according to the old legend of Thomas a Becket's father and the +fair Saracen, which you have often heard. + +I know. But how are you going to get through the chalk hills? Is there +a tunnel as there is at Box and at Micheldever? + +No. Something much prettier than a tunnel and something which took a +great many years longer in making. We shall soon meet with a very +remarkable and famous old gentleman, who is a great adept at digging, and +at landscape gardening likewise; and he has dug out a path for himself +through the chalk, which we shall take the liberty of using also. And +his name, if you wish to know it, is Father Thames. + +I see him. What a great river! + +Yes. Here he comes, gleaming and winding down from Oxford, over the +lowlands, past Wallingford; but where he is going to it is not so easy to +see. + +Ah, here is chalk in the cutting at last. And what a high bridge. And +the river far under our feet. Why we are crossing him again! + +Yes; he winds more sharply than a railroad can. But is not this prettier +than a tunnel? + +Oh, what hanging-woods, and churches; and such great houses, and pretty +cottages and gardens--all in this narrow crack of a valley! + +Ay. Old Father Thames is a good landscape gardener, as I said. There is +Basildon--and Hurley--and Pangbourne, with its roaring lasher. Father +Thames has had to work hard for many an age before he could cut this +trench right through the chalk, and drain the water out of the flat vale +behind us. But I suspect the sea helped him somewhat, or perhaps a great +deal, just where we are now. + +The sea? + +Yes. The sea was once--and that not so very long ago--right up here, +beyond Reading. This is the uppermost end of the great Thames valley, +which must have been an estuary--a tide flat, like the mouth of the +Severn, with the sea eating along at the foot of all the hills. And if +the land sunk only some fifty feet,--which is a very little indeed, +child, in this huge, ever-changing world,--then the tide would come up to +Reading again, and the greater part of London and the county of Middlesex +be drowned in salt water. + +How dreadful that would be! + +Dreadful indeed. God grant that it may never happen. More terrible +changes of land and water have happened, and are happening still in the +world: but none, I think, could happen which would destroy so much +civilisation and be such a loss to mankind, as that the Thames valley +should become again what it was, geologically speaking, only the other +day, when these gravel banks, over which we are running to Reading, were +being washed out of the chalk cliffs up above at every tide, and rolled +on a beach, as you have seen them rolling still at Ramsgate. + +Now here we are at Reading. There is the carriage waiting, and away we +are off home; and when we get home, and have seen everybody and +everything, we will look over our section once more. + +But remember, that when you ran through the chalk hills to Reading, you +passed from the bottom of the chalk to the top of it, on to the Thames +gravels, which lie there on the chalk, and on to the London clay, which +lies on the chalk also, with the Thames gravels always over it. So that, +you see, the newest layers, the London clay and the gravels, are lower in +height than the limestone cliffs at Bristol, and much lower than the old +mountain ranges of Devonshire and Wales, though in geological order they +are far higher; and there are whole worlds of strata, rocks and clays, +one on the other, between the Thames gravels and the Devonshire hills. + +But how about our moors? They are newer still, you said, than the London +clay, because they lie upon it: and yet they are much higher than we are +here at Reading. + +Very well said: so they are, two or three hundred feet higher. But our +part of them was left behind, standing up in banks, while the valley of +the Thames was being cut out by the sea. Once they spread all over where +we stand now, and away behind us beyond Newbury in Berkshire, and away in +front of us, all over where London now stands. + +How can you tell that? + +Because there are little caps--little patches--of them left on the tops +of many hills to the north of London; just remnants which the sea, and +the Thames, and the rain have not eaten down. Probably they once +stretched right out to sea, sloping slowly under the waves, where the +mouth of the Thames is now. You know the sand-cliffs at Bournemouth? + +Of course. + +Then those are of the same age as the Bagshot sands, and lie on the +London clay, and slope down off the New Forest into the sea, which eats +them up, as you know, year by year and day by day. And here were once +perhaps cliffs just like them, where London Bridge now stands. + +* * * * * + +There, we are rumbling away home at last, over the dear old +heather-moors. How far we have travelled--in our fancy at least--since +we began to talk about all these things, upon the foggy November day, and +first saw Madam How digging at the sand-banks with her water-spade. How +many countries we have talked of; and what wonderful questions we have +got answered, which all grew out of the first question, How were the +heather-moors made? And yet we have not talked about a hundredth part of +the things about which these very heather-moors ought to set us thinking. +But so it is, child. Those who wish honestly to learn the laws of Madam +How, which we call Nature, by looking honestly at what she does, which we +call Fact, have only to begin by looking at the very smallest thing, +pin's head or pebble, at their feet, and it may lead them--whither, they +cannot tell. To answer any one question, you find you must answer +another; and to answer that you must answer a third, and then a fourth; +and so on for ever and ever. + +For ever and ever? + +Of course. If we thought and searched over the Universe--ay, I believe, +only over this one little planet called earth--for millions on millions +of years, we should not get to the end of our searching. The more we +learnt, the more we should find there was left to learn. All things, we +should find, are constituted according to a Divine and Wonderful Order, +which links each thing to every other thing; so that we cannot fully +comprehend any one thing without comprehending all things: and who can do +that, save He who made all things? Therefore our true wisdom is never to +fancy that we do comprehend: never to make systems and theories of the +Universe (as they are called) as if we had stood by and looked on when +time and space began to be; but to remember that those who say they +understand, show, simply by so saying, that they understand nothing at +all; that those who say they see, are sure to be blind; while those who +confess that they are blind, are sure some day to see. All we can do is, +to keep up the childlike heart, humble and teachable, though we grew as +wise as Newton or as Humboldt; and to follow, as good Socrates bids us, +Reason whithersoever it leads us, sure that it will never lead us wrong, +unless we have darkened it by hasty and conceited fancies of our own, and +so have become like those foolish men of old, of whom it was said that +the very light within them was darkness. But if we love and reverence +and trust Fact and Nature, which are the will, not merely of Madam How, +or even of Lady Why, but of Almighty God Himself, then we shall be really +loving, and reverencing, and trusting God; and we shall have our reward +by discovering continually fresh wonders and fresh benefits to man; and +find it as true of science, as it is of this life and of the life to +come--that eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor hath it entered into the +heart of man to conceive, what God has prepared for those who love Him. + + + + +FOOTNOTES + + +{1} I could not resist the temptation of quoting this splendid +generalisation from Dr. Carpenter's Preliminary Report of the Dredging +Operations of H.M.S. "Lightening," 1868. He attributes it, generously, +to his colleague, Dr. Wyville Thomson. Be it whose it may, it will mark +(as will probably the whole Report when completed) a new era in +Bio-Geology. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MADAM HOW AND LADY WHY*** + + +******* This file should be named 1697.txt or 1697.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/9/1697 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: +https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + |