NOTEF.
In the case of the upper carse on the Tay Firth, there is evidence, both from its vestiges and from records, that it had occupied, at least, the entire firth, or sea-basin, above Broughty Ferry, and that about 50 square miles of this carse has been carried out into the German Ocean by the strong sea-tide current, a consequence of the lowering of the German Ocean, and of the deepening of the outlet of this sea-basin at Broughty Ferry, apparently by this very rapid sea-tide current. This carse appears to have been a general deposition at the bottom of a lake having only a narrow outlet communicating with the sea, and probably did not rise much higher than the height of the bottom of the outlet at that time.
An increase of deposition of alluvium, or prevention of decrease, may, in many cases, be accomplished by artificial means. The diminution of the carse of the Tay was in rapid progress about sixty years ago, the sea-bank being undermined by the waves of the basin, the clay tumbling down, becoming diffused in the water, and being carried out to sea, by every ebbing tide, purer water returning from the ocean the next tide-flow. This decrease was stopped by the adoption of stone embanking and dikes. A small extension of the carses of present high-water level, in the upper part of the firths of Tay and Forth, has lately been effected, by forming brushwood, stone and mud dikes, to promote the accumulation.{379}In doing this, the whole art consists in placing obstructions to the current and waves, so that whatever deposition takes place at high-water, or at the beginning of the flood-tide, when the water is nearly still, may not again be raised and carried off.
Notwithstanding this accumulation, and also the prevention of further waste of the superior carse, the deepening of the Tay Firth, formerly carse, and of the gorge at Broughty Ferry, seems still in progress, and could not, without very considerable labour, be prevented. In the case, however, of the sea-basin of Montrose, a little labour, from the narrowness of the gorges, would put it in a condition to become gradually filled with mud. Not a great deal more expenditure than what has sufficed to erect the suspension-bridge over its largest outlet, would have entirely filled up this outlet, and the smaller outlet might have been also filled to within several feet of high-water, and made of sufficient breadth only, to emit the water of the river, which flows into the basin. The floated sand and mud of this river, thus prevented from being carried out to sea, would, in the course of years, completely fill up the basin.
From some vestiges of the upper carse, as well as of the lower or submarine carse, in situations where their formation cannot easily be traced to any local cause, it seems not improbable that the basin of the German sea itself, nearly as far north as the extent of Scotland, had at one time been occupied with a carse or delta, a continuation of Holland, formed by the accumulation of the{380}diluvium of the rivers which flow into this basin, together with the molluscous exuviæ of the North Sea, and the abrasion of the Norwegian coast and Scottish islands, borne downward by the heavy North Sea swell.
In the case of the delta of Holland having extended so far northward, a subsidence of the land or rising of the sea, so as to form a passage for the waters round Britain, must have occurred. The derangement, at several places, of the fine wavy stratification of these carses, and the confusedly heaped-up beds of broken sea-shells, shew that some great rush of water had taken place, probably when Belgium was dissevered from England. Since the opening of the bottom of the gulf, the accumulation may have been undergoing a gradual reduction, by more diffused mud69being carried off from the German Sea into the Atlantic and North Sea, than what the former is receiving—the same process taking place here as has been occurring in the basin of the Tay. The large sand-banks on the Dutch and English coast,—in some places, such as the Goodwin Sands, certainly the heavier, less diffusible part of the former alluvial country, and portions of these alluvial districts being retained by artificial means,—bear a striking resemblance to the{381}sand-banks of the sea basin of the Tay—the less diffusible remains of the removed portion of the alluvium which had once occupied all that basin, and to the remaining portion of the alluvium also retained by artificial means.
Throughout this volume, we have felt considerable inconvenience, from the adopted dogmatical classification of plants, and have all along been floundering between species and variety, which certainly under culture soften into each other. A particular conformity, each after its own kind, when in a state of nature, termed species, no doubt exists to a considerable degree. This conformity has existed during the last forty centuries. Geologists discover a like particular conformity—fossil species—through the deep deposition of each great epoch, but they also discover an almost complete difference to exist between the species or stamp of life, of one epoch from that of every other. We are therefore led to admit, either of a repeated miraculous creation; or of a power of change, under a change of circumstances, to belong to living organized matter, or rather to the congeries of inferior life, which appears to form superior. The derangements and changes in organized existence, induced by a change of circumstance from the interference of man, affording us{382}proof of the plastic quality of superior life, and the likelihood that circumstances have been very different in the different epochs, though steady in each, tend strongly to heighten the probability of the latter theory.
When we view the immense calcareous and bituminous formations, principally from the waters and atmosphere, and consider the oxidations and depositions which have taken place, either gradually, or during some of the great convulsions, it appears at least probable, that the liquid elements containing life have varied considerably at different times in composition and in weight; that our atmosphere has contained a much greater proportion of carbonic acid or oxygen; and our waters, aided by excess of carbonic acid, and greater heat resulting from greater density of atmosphere, have contained a greater quantity of lime and other mineral solutions. Is the inference then unphilosophic, that living things which are proved to have a circumstance-suiting power—a very slight change of circumstance by culture inducing a corresponding change of character—may have gradually accommodated themselves to the variations of the elements containing them, and, without new creation, have presented the diverging changeable phenomena of past and present organized existence.
The destructive liquid currents, before which the hardest mountains have been swept and comminuted into gravel, sand, and mud, which intervened between and divided these epochs, probably extending over the whole surface of the globe, and destroying nearly all living{383}things, must have reduced existence so much, that an unoccupied field would be formed for new diverging ramifications of life, which, from the connected sexual system of vegetables, and the natural instincts of animals to herd and combine with their own kind, would fall into specific groups, these remnants, in the course of time, moulding and accommodating their being anew to the change of circumstances, and to every possible means of subsistence, and the millions of ages of regularity which appear to have followed between the epochs, probably after this accommodation was completed, affording fossil deposit of regular specific character.
There are only two probable ways of change—the above, and the still wider deviation from present occurrence,—of indestructible or molecular life (which seems to resolve itself into powers of attraction and repulsion under mathematical figure and regulation, bearing a slight systematic similitude to the great aggregations of matter), gradually uniting and developing itself into new circumstance-suited living aggregates, without the presence of any mould or germ of former aggregates, but this scarcely differs from new creation, only it forms a portion of a continued scheme or system.
In endeavouring to trace, in the former way, the principle of these changes of fashion which have taken place in the domiciles of life, the following questions occur: Do they arise from admixture of species nearly allied producing intermediate species? Are theythe diverging ramificationsof the living principle under modification of{384}circumstance? Or have they resulted from the combined agency of both? Is there only one living principle? Does organized existence, and perhaps all material existence, consist of one Proteus principle of life capable of gradual circumstance-suited modifications and aggregations, without bound under the solvent or motion-giving principle, heat or light? There is more beauty and unity of design in this continual balancing of life to circumstance, and greater conformity to those dispositions of nature which are manifest to us, than in total destruction and new creation. It is improbable that much of this diversification is owing to commixture of species nearly allied, all change by this appears very limited, and confined within the bounds of what is called Species; the progeny of the same parents, under great difference of circumstance, might, in several generations, even become distinct species, incapable of co-reproduction.
The self-regulating adaptive disposition of organized life may, in part, be traced to the extreme fecundity of Nature, who, as before stated, has, in all the varieties of her offspring, a prolific power much beyond (in many cases a thousandfold) what is necessary to fill up the vacancies caused by senile decay. As the field of existence is limited and pre-occupied, it is only the hardier, more robust, better suited to circumstance individuals, who are able to struggle forward to maturity, these inhabiting only the situations to which they have superior adaptation and greater power of occupancy than any other kind; the weaker, less circumstance-suited, being{385}prematurely destroyed. This principle is in constant action, it regulates the colour, the figure, the capacities, and instincts; those individuals of each species, whose colour and covering are best suited to concealment or protection from enemies, or defence from vicissitude and inclemencies of climate, whose figure is best accommodated to health, strength, defence, and support; whose capacities and instincts can best regulate the physical energies to self-advantage according to circumstances—in such immense waste of primary and youthful life,thoseonly come forward to maturity from the strict ordeal by which Nature tests their adaptation to her standard of perfection and fitness to continue their kind by reproduction.
From the unremitting operation of this law acting in concert with the tendency which the progeny have to take the more particular qualities of the parents, together with the connected sexual system in vegetables, and instinctive limitation to its own kind in animals, a considerable uniformity of figure, colour, and character, is induced, constituting species; the breed gradually acquiring the very best possible adaptation of these to its condition which it is susceptible of, and when alteration of circumstance occurs, thus changing in character to suit these as far as its nature is susceptible of change.
This circumstance-adaptive law, operating upon the slight but continued natural disposition to sport in the progeny (seedling variety), does not preclude the supposed influence which volition or sensation may have over the configuration of the body. To examine into the{386}disposition to sport in the progeny, even when there is only one parent, as in many vegetables, and to investigate how much variation is modified by the mind or nervous sensation of the parents, or of the living thing itself during its progress to maturity; how far it depends upon external circumstance, and how far on the will, irritability and muscular exertion, is open to examination and experiment. In the first place, we ought to investigate its dependency upon the preceding links of the particular chain of life, variety being often merely types or approximations of former parentage; thence the variation of the family, as well as of the individual, must be embraced by our experiments.
This continuation of family type, not broken by casual particular aberration, is mental as well as corporeal, and is exemplified in many of the dispositions or instincts of particular races of men. These innate or continuous ideas or habits, seem proportionally greater in the insect tribes, those especially of shorter revolution; and forming an abiding memory, may resolve much of the enigma of instinct, and the foreknowledge which these tribes have of what is necessary to completing their round of life, reducing this to knowledge, or impressions, and habits, acquired by a long experience. This greater continuity of existence, or rather continuity of perceptions and impressions, in insects, is highly probable; it is even difficult in some to ascertain the particular stops when each individuality commences, under the different phases of egg, larva, pupa, or if much{387}consciousness of individuality exists. The continuation of reproduction for several generations by the females alone in some of these tribes, tends to the probability of the greater continuity of existence, and the subdivisions of life by cuttings, at any rate must stagger the advocate of individuality.
Among the millions ofspecific varietiesof living things which occupy the humid portion of the surface of our planet, as far back as can be traced, there does not appear, with the exception of man, to have been any particular engrossing race, but a pretty fair balance of powers of occupancy,—or rather, most wonderful variation of circumstance parallel to the nature of every species, as if circumstance and species had grown up together. There are indeed several races which have threatened ascendency in some particular regions, but it is man alone from whom any general imminent danger to the existence of his brethren is to be dreaded.
As far back as history reaches, man had already had considerable influence, and had made encroachments upon his fellow denizens, probably occasioning the destruction of many species, and the production and continuation of a number of varieties or even species, which he found more suited to supply his wants, but which, from the infirmity of their condition—not having undergone selection by the law of nature, of which we have spoken, cannot maintain their ground without his culture and protection.
It is, however, only in the present age that man has{388}begun to reap the fruits of his tedious education, and has proven how much “knowledge is power.” He has now acquired a dominion over the material world, and a consequent power of increase, so as to render it probable that the whole surface of the earth may soon be overrun by this engrossing anomaly, to the annihilation of every wonderful and beautiful variety of animated existence, which does not administer to his wants principally as laboratories of preparation to befit cruder elemental matter for assimilation by his organs.
In taking a retrospective glance at our pages from the press, we notice some inaccuracy and roughness, which a little more timely attention totrainingandpruningmight have obviated; the facts and induction may, however, outbalance these.
We observe that Fig.d, p.27, from the want of proper shading, and error in not marking the dotted lines, does not serve well to illustrate our purpose. This figure is intended to represent a tree of a short thick stem, dividing into four branches, springing out regularly in the manner of a cross, nearly at right angles with the stem. These branches cut over about three or four feet out from the division, form each one wing of a knee, and the stem, quartered longitudinally through the heart, forms the other wing. It is of great advantage to have four branches rather than two or three, as the stem, divided into four, by being twice cut down the middle, forms the wings nearly square; whereas, when divided{389}into two, the halves are broad and flat, and a considerable loss of timber takes place; besides, the two branches afford a thicker wing than the flat half of the stem does when squared. When the tree separates into three branches, the stem does not saw out conveniently; and when divided, the cleft part is angular, and much loss of timber also takes place in the squaring. When the stem divides into four branches, each of these branches coincides in thickness with the quartered stem, and the knees are obtained equally thick throughout, without any loss of timber. The four branches, at six or eight feet above the division, may with a little attention be thrown into a rectangular bend, and thus give eight knees from each tree. Knees are generally required of about eight inches in diameter, and three and a half feet in length of wing; but when they are to be had thicker and longer, a foot or more in thickness, and from four to ten feet in length of wing, they are equally in request, suiting for high rising floors or heel-knees.
The directions for forming larch roots into knees after the tree is grubbed, are also not very explicit. The stem of the tree is cut over nearly the same distance from the bulb as the length of the root spurs; this quartered through the heart (in the same manner as above), forms one wing of the knee, and the four spurs form the other wings. The same advantage results from having four regular root-spurs in larch, as in having four regular branches in oak: the two processes are quite similar, only the roots in the one case, and the branches in the other, form one wing of the knees.{390}
We have given no directions for the bending of plank timber. In larch, the wind generally gives the slight necessary bend to a sufficient proportion; and in oak, the trees frequently grow a little bent of their own accord.
A foot-note has been omitted, stating, that the plan of bending young trees, by tying them to an adjacent tree, intended to be soon removed, belongs, as we are informed, to Mr Loudon.
We regret that our allusion to the lamented Mr Huskisson was printed off before we knew of his death.
Since this volume went to press, there has been some changes of scenery on the political European stage,even rivallingwhat has ever been accomplished of sylvan metamorphosis on the face of nature by Sir Henry Steuart. The intense interest excited by these efforts towards the regeneration of man, has completely thrown into shade our humbler subject—the regeneration of trees. We have even forgot it ourselves in the hands of the printer, while yet unborn. These sudden transformations altering the political and moral relations of man, also render a number of our observations not quite apposite, and our speculations, some of them, rather “prophetic of the past.” They, by obliterating national distinctions, and diminishing the occasions for going to war, will, it is hoped, bring the European family closer into amity. At any rate, they have completely thrown out the{391}calculations of our politicians regarding the balance of power and international connection as natural allies and foes, and bind the French and the British together by ties on the surest principle of friendly sympathy, “idem velle atque nolle,” which no Machiavellian policy of cabinets, nor waywardness of political head, will be able to sunder.
We had intended to bring out Naval Timber and Arboriculture as a portion of a work embracing Rural Economy in general, but this is not a time to think of rural affairs.