\NA TURE 



J85 



THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 21, 1895. 



SIR ANDREW CROMBIE RAMSAY. 

 Memoir of Sir Andrew Crombie Ramsay. By Sir 

 Archibald Geilcie. (London : Macmillan and Co., 

 1895.) 



THE memoir of Sir Andrew Crombie Ramsay, by 

 Sir Archibald Geikie, is a valuable addition to 

 literature and to science. We will refer our readers to 

 the book itself to learn when Sir Andrew was born and 

 when he died : what support the theories of heredity 

 obtain from the scientific tendencies and noble courage 

 of his parents and fore-elders : who were the teachers and 

 friends, and what were the surroundings of his early 

 years : what, in fact, made Ramsay such as we find him 

 in later life — a prominent person in whatever circum- 

 stances he was thrown, whether in the small society of a 

 provincial town or in scientific gatherings in London — a 

 welcome guest at every table, a critic whom any author 

 bolstering up wild theories with bad evidence would fear 

 to have to reckon with. "Of an eminently social 

 temperament, he made acquaintances easily wherever 

 he went, and these chance acquaintanceships sometimes 

 ripened into lifelong friendships. In one family circle 

 we find him reading aloud Shakespeare, or Scottish | 

 ballads, or a good novel ; in another, he takes part, 

 heart and soul, in singing glees and madrigals ; in a 

 third, he joins in dancing and all kinds of merriment." 

 " English literature was to him avast and exhaustless 

 garden, full of alleys green and sunny arbours, where 

 from boyhood he had been wont to spend many a 

 delightful hour. When he found among his colleagues 

 one whose talk was not always of stones, but who had 

 ranged like himself far and wide in literary fields, he 

 opened out his inner soul, and his conversation glowed 

 with an animation and power, as well as a gleeful e.\- 

 uberance, which astonished and charmed his companion." 

 And "though he was not in any sense an antiquary, he 

 knew a good deal about the history of architecture, and 

 took a keen delight in visiting ruins and trying to form a 

 mental picture of what they must have been before the 

 gnawing tooth of time had dismantled them. Whatever, 

 indeed, linked him with the past had a charm for him. 

 He never willingly missed an opportunity of seeing a 

 ruined castle or keep, a mouldering abbey, a grass-grown 

 encampment, or a lonely cairn. If tradition or song 

 invested any spot with a living interest, he would not 

 consider his geological inspection complete if it had not 

 included a visit to that site." With his quick sympathy 

 and conversational powers, with his wide knowledge of 

 nature, as well as of history and her monuments, no 

 wonder that he was welcome in any society of intelli- 

 gence and culture. He would unbend in congenial and 

 sympathetic company, like a strong man who had been 

 out ill the cold and had at last gained a warm fireside 

 but he always made room for others round the fire. His 

 impulsive and generous nature was, however, tempered 

 with native judgment and caution. He soon gauged the 

 character of those with whom he was thrown, and 

 quickly estimated the amount of receptivity and the 

 temper of an audience. 



NO. <32I, VOL 51] 



These qualities and acquirements with a strong and 

 clear memory gave him much wealth of illustration in 

 scientific discussion and in lectures. But his power lay 

 more in the lucid exposition of his subject, the keen 

 insight into the real points at issue, and the clearness 

 with which he brought forward his array of facts and 

 arguments. After one of his lectures at the Royal 

 Institution, Faraday ran up to him, shook him by both 

 hands, and asked "where did you learn to lecture?" 



In the memoir will be found an account of his appoint- 

 ment to the chair of Geology at University College, from 

 which he was always spoken of as Prof. Ramsay ; also 

 of his lectures there and elsewhere, and of his various 

 other literary work. 



In 1841 he was appointed Assistant Geologist on the 

 Government Survey, under Sir Henry De la Beche, and 

 throughout his forty years of service he was more and 

 more identified with all its active work, either as himself 

 taking part in the mapping, or as superintending others, 

 though it was not until he had been appointed Director- 

 General, in succession to Sir Roderick Murchison, that 

 he officially represented the Survey to the public and the 

 Government. An account of his life is therefore the 

 history of the -Survey, and no one is more competent than 

 our author to tell the story. 



The great difference between the work which has to 

 be done by the Geological Survey and by amateurs is this. 

 The amateur may examine a district in more or less 

 detail, may pick out the points of interest, or the facts 

 which illustrate some theory which he is developing, but, 

 where he sees nothing, he may say nothing about it. The 

 Geological Surveyor, on the other hand, must colour all 

 his map, and sometimes has to put in by inference whole 

 formations of which he has seen nothing whatever. 



" He spends the day, map in hand, over the ground 

 assigned to him for survey. Every exposure of rock is 

 noted by him on his map or in his note-hook, with all the 

 needful details. Each stream is followed step by step up 

 to its source ; each hill-side and ravine is traversed from 

 end to end ; each quarry, sometimes each ditch, and 

 even the very furrows and turned-up soil of a ploughed 

 field are scrutinised in turn. . . . He is brought into 

 every variety of scenery, and is compelled by his very 

 duties to study these varieties and make use of them in 

 his daily work." 



But even after all this careful search it often happens 

 that he can find no direct evidence of the solid rocks 

 below the soil and subsoils. He has to plot sections and 

 see what, with the known thicknesses and dips, should 

 be found there. He has to examine the surrounding 

 country to sec what occurs in the same relative position 

 elsewhere, and whether any lines of disturbance which 

 might complicate the results are running into the area 

 respecting which, with little evidence, he must make up 

 his mind and say something. The survey work is thus a 

 grand training in the faculty of keeping one's wits about 

 one, and of detecting sources of error. The habit of 

 mind thus formed is often exhibited in the criticism of 

 amateur work by trained survey men, and many can re- 

 call Ramsay's indignant protests against impossible or 

 exaggerated sections when appealed to as evidence in 

 support of any view. 



He had a wonderful " eye for a country," to use one of 



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