stone, and prevented from descending by the retentive bed below, will have a constant tendency to throw down upon the road portions of the rock above; but no such effect will be produced if the road be cut at nearly the same height on the opposite side of the valley, at d, where the strata dip into the hill instead of out of it.

Every architect and civil-engineer ought to be a geologist, for the study of the structure of rocks, and of the situations in which they occur, would frequently enable them to select more durable stones for building than those usually employed. These remarks apply to public works rather than to private edifices, for under the present system the houses in most of our great towns are built by speculators who have no permanent interest in them, and they are built for profit, on a calculation, nicely adjusted to the length of a lease, which they are not intended to outlast. But when a proprietor builds upon his own estate, he ought not, from motives of injudicious economy, to use stone liable to rapid decomposition, merely because it can be worked at less cost than another which is more durable, and, above all, when a nation builds, which builds for posterity, all such paltry parsimony ought to be discarded. Yet some of the finest of the public buildings in London, less than two centuries old, are hastening rapidly to decay, from having been constructed of a calcareous sandstone, soft when first raised, and thence easily worked, hardening as it loses its original moisture, but liable again to imbibe water, and therefore easily affected by frosts. An improvement in this respect has lately taken place in the substitution of granite for sandstone in many of our public works; but the indiscriminate use of this material may be attended with bad effects; for some varieties of granite, like the trappean rocks before alluded to, though hard and difficult to work, when first raised, afford a bad buildingmaterial, from the rapidity with which they decompose. This depends on the state of the felspar they contain. Rocks, in which the felspar exists in a compact state, are in general more durable than those in which it is found in coarse crystals. Some sandstones, again, which have a siliceous cement, are very durable. The weathered surface of a rock will often give a better insight into its mineral structure than can be obtained from a fresh fracture, for which reason, the geologist, in selecting hand specimens, endeavours to procure one such surface; and in general the capability of a stone to resist atmospheric agency may be learned by studying the manner in which it resists such action in its original situation, and by observing which of the ingredients of a compound rock is the first to decompose.

We have now taken a rapid glance at some of the practical advantages resulting from the study of geology. The subject is by no means exhausted, but the limits of a work like this will not admit of further details. It remains to speak of other benefits arising from the cultivation of the science, less direct, it is true, and, to some minds, less obvious, but not the less important, because they cannot be made to enter into a calculation of pecuniary profit. As an employment for the mind, and an exercise of the reasoning powers, geology may be placed in the first rank, second only to the exact sciences, and in some respects superior to them, because it requires the exercise of those faculties, and

employs that kind of reasoning, for which we have daily need in the conduct of human affairs. The practical application of the mathematics is limited to a few professions. That is not the object with which they are studied by one in an hundred of those who devote so much time to them. They are studied in order to strengthen the mind by accustoming it to habits of attention and investigation, and even when cultivated with this view, doubts have been entertained by some, whether they may not be pursued too exclusively. It has been asserted, that the mind may become so habituated to that strict demonstration which the abstract sciences require and afford, as to reject other truths incapable of the same kind of proof. And yet on most of the questions on which we are called upon to form a judgment as to matters-of-fact, past, present, and to come, mathematical reasoning is inapplicable, and we must be satisfied to arrive at a moral certainty to be attained by weighing evidence and balancing probabilities. This is the highest degree of proof of which most geological inquiries are susceptible, and this is the mode in which they are conducted. We observe the changes taking place around us in the organic and inorganic world, and we trace effects up to their causes; and then comparing like things with like, we infer that similar effects were produced by similar causes in the ages that are past. In this investigation we have often to weigh the conflicting evidence of apparently irreconcileable phenomena, we are perpetually seeking analogies, or detecting differences, or combining and generalizing scattered facts with which observation has furnished us. Occasionally, too, we find ourselves obliged to retrace our steps, compelled by new facts to abandon generalizations, founded on imperfect induction. Surely all this must tend to produce habits of acute observation, patient investigation, and salutary caution, in suspending our judgment in the absence of complete and satisfactory evidence; habits, these, of the greatest value in the affairs of life, and we must be most unapt scholars if we do not also learn from it this great moral lesson-that it is possible to acknowledge ourselves to have been in error, without either compromise of dignity or loss of strength.

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Geology possesses this advantage over most other sciences, that with discipline for the mind, it combines exercise for the body. It has power to preserve or to restore the mens sana in corpore sano." One at least of our most celebrated geologists applied himself to this pursuit, as a remedy for disorders, brought on by too close an application to sedentary studies. Health appears to be a privilege almost peculiar to the geologist, among all the sons of science. The mathematician undermines his constitution over his diagrams and his equations-the chemist inhales poison, amidst the fumes of the laboratory-the anatomist risks his life, amidst the horrors of the dissecting-room,-but the geologist enjoys the robust health of the sportsman, or the peasant. He breathes the purest air of Heaven, amidst the loveliest and the sublimest scenery of nature, whilst exploring those mountain-recesses, where her mysteries are best revealed; hardy, active, and enterprising, he ranges through all the realms of Europe-now on the summit of Ben Nevis-now in the caves of Staffa-now among the wilds of Connemara, and now in the valley of the Arno. He has examined the extinct craters of the Rhine, and the

crater of Etna, still in full activity; his hammer has been heard among the pine-forests of Norway, and he has looked down from the Alps, and cried with the poet―

"Creation's heir-the world, the world is mine!" He sees mankind under various forms of government and religion. He holds intercourse with men, whose sole bond of union with him is their ardour in the cause of science. On all other points their opinions differ, and even on some of the controverted matters of geology they are ranged on opposite sides. Hence, he is trained to habits of moderation and forbearance, and learns to emancipate himself from the trammels of party. Those ancient convulsions to which the globe has been subject, and those physical features which they have impressed upon its surface, are not confined within the narrow conventional limits of tribes or nations; to study them, he must have a free and unmolested passage through all the kingdoms of the earth. Hence, those bad passions which array nation against nation, injurious as they are to all, have this additional evil for him, that they retard the progress of his science, which requires for its developement nothing less than the peace of the world. The subjects of his investigations are so various, and the questions to be solved by him are so complicated, and so connected with all the kingdoms of nature, that he is prevented from devoting himself too exclusively to any one branch of study; he finds at every step that he needs the aid of fellow-labourers in other departments of the great field of knowledge. Hence arise new sympathies; and there are many who can enumerate among the advantages of geology, the warm and enduring friendships to which it has given birth. In the roving life of the geologist, there are charms unconnected with those of science: he mingles in his rambles with men of all ranks, and of various characters, and thus gains an opportunity of studying human nature, whilst he obtains fresh knowledge of his profession. The personal adventures of a geologist would form an amusing narrative. He is trudging along, dusty and weather-beaten, with his wallet at his back, and his hammer on his shoulder, and he is taken for a stone-mason travelling in search of work. In mining-countries, he is supposed to be in quest of mines, and receives many tempting offers of shares in the "Wheal Dreany,” or the “Golden Venture;" he has been watched as a smuggler; it is well if he has not been committed as a vagrant, or apprehended as a spy, for he has been refused admittance to an inn, or has been ushered into the room appropriated for ostlers and postilions. When his fame has spread among the more enlightened part of the community of a district which he has been exploring, and inquiries are made of the peasantry as to the habits and pursuits of the great philosopher who has been among them, and with whom they have become familiar, it is found that the importance attached by him to shells and stones, and such like trumpery, is looked upon as a species of derangement, but they speak with delight of his affability, sprightliness, and good-humour. They respect the strength of his arm, and the weight of his hammer, as they point to marks which he inflicted on the rocks, and they recount with wonder his pedestrian performances, and the voracious appetite with which, at the close of a long day's work, he would devour the coarsest food that was set before him.

Geology can only be studied thus by those who are gifted with leisure and affluence, or by those who follow it as a profession; but, on a less extended scale, it is available to the man of business and the man of humble income. The rich and the unemployed will find in it a substitute for those artificial excitements, those frivolous, and often vitiating and ruinous pursuits to which they are driven as a resource against ennui, and he who is engaged in active pursuits, may resort to it as a relaxation from toil and ease. If a state of total inactivity is unsuitable for man, so likewise is a state of unremitting labour. Rest and recreation we all require: change of employment is often equal to repose; and where can we find employment or recreation so refreshing and invigorating, both to mind and body, as this? What can be more delightful than to exchange that conflict of passions and interests, which beset the man of business in his intercourse with men, for that calm, yet exciting interest, arising from converse with nature, and the acquirement or discovery of truth?

Geology has fields of research suited to every labourer, and to every capacity. On some of its investigations, the highest intellectual powers, and the greatest acquirements in abstract science, may be brought to bear, while many of its problems may be solved by any one who has eyes and will make use of them. Extensive travel is requisite to afford comprehensive views of the structure of the earth, and to prevent our generalizing from too limited an induction; but he whose travels are confined within his native country, or within a circle of twenty miles round his own house, may add much to our knowledge. Nor is this class of observers by any means the least useful. He who makes a hasty excursion into a district, can give but a general outline of its structure, leaving many important points of detail to be filled up by resident observers. If we visit the same cliff or the same quarry daily, for years, we shall, at every visit, be rewarded with something new; and there are few districts barren in objects of geological interest, however deficient they may be in the beauties of picturesque scenery.

ON THE USE OF TERMS FROM THE GREEK AND LATIN LANGUAGES IN SCIENTIFIC NOMENCLATURE.

THERE exists, at present, a strong desire to dispense, as much as possible, with terms and names in science taken from the Greek and Latin languages: it is alleged that by so doing, the attainment of knowledge will be facilitated to those who have not the advantage of a classical education; and that science, being divested of what bears the appearance of an ostentatious display of learning, will present herself in a more attractive guise, and secure a greater number of admirers. It is also considered as a national reflection that we should, in any case, have recourse to other languages, when our own is so copious and expressive. We are frequently reminded in a lame metaphor of that "well of pure and undefiled English," from which our ancestors drew-not water-but

words, till the example of a master-mind, towards the close of the last century, caused an influx into our vocabulary of Latin, to the exclusion of genuine Celtic or Teutonic.

This is not the place for any discussion on the last allegation, which would properly pertain to a philological journal, or to one devoted to general literature, rather than to science; nor should we have mentioned it, if we did not conceive that it is presumed, the advantages which would result from the banishment of these exotics, and the restitution of their hardier predecessors would be equally felt in the language of science, as in that of literature. We cannot, however, refrain from observing, that our language is essentially a mixed one, and that even if we were to purify it of all the latinity which has been introduced into it since the period alluded to, there would still remain a great leaven, which had been incorporated in the form of Norman French, and that the pure well" was but a turbid compound of different Celtic dialects, with a large proportion of that of ancient Italy.

Leaving, however, this consideration, we wish to point out the proper bounds to the proposed reformation, and though we fully concur in the desirableness of divesting science of all extrinsic difficulties, we feel persuaded that this method of so doing eventually tends to produce a worse evil than that we would obviate; and that while we endeavour to shun what may appear as pedantry, we shall, if not timely warned, fall into the more dangerous errors of inelegance and inaccuracy.

Some persons have proposed, as a part of the plan of restoration, to extend the privilege of retaining the Latin or Greek root of a scientific term, only giving it an English termination, and forming nouns as we have always been in the habit of forming adjectives. Thus, since custom has sanctioned the use of such terms as vertebrated, or molluscous animal, exogenous plant, &c., they would adopt mammals, cephalopods, mollusks, exogens, bracts, &c. But as these terms have neither euphony nor elegance to recommend them, it should be distinctly shown that they possess some decided advantages: intelligibility to the unlearned is certainly not among these; for unless the meaning of the root be understood, the vernacular termination will be of no avail, and such jargon as edentate or rodent mammal, acephalous testacean, glumaceous endogen, &c., is in no way preferable to the analogous designations with their proper endings.

It is the deficiencies of our own language that necessitate the adoption of foreign words, to furnish names for newly-discovered natural laws, principles, or bodies, inorganic or organic, or for instruments newly contrived to aid us in our researches. The character of the languages derived from the Celtic or Teutonic, is to possess but comparatively few roots, and to allow of an indefinite number of combinations of these to express compound ideas. But however forcible and expressive association may render these compounds, their being such is obviously a source of ambiguity, and prejudicial to the precision and brevity so desirable in everything connected with science; for, in the arithmetic of language, the shortest word is not always that which consists of the fewest syllables; and, in fact, the learned name is, in most instances, absolutely shorter than any equivalent English compound term.