198 THE OCEAN. [Book IX. 



back the rays of the rising sun. You pass through 

 the ruins of the city of Mendoza, which, but five 

 years ago, was destroyed by a comparatively slight 

 movement of the outer crust of the earth. At length 

 you commence to mount the eastern slope of the 

 huge mountain ridge. You may glance eagerly from 

 mountain to mountain, from valley to valley ; districts 

 of gravel, districts of sand, districts of earth ; strati- 

 fied masses and unstratified masses : you may glance 

 at all, vainly endeavouring by inductive steps to learn 

 the process of their formation. All appears crude 

 disorder and confusion. As the keen winds rush by, 

 perchance they laugh a derisive laugh ; and the vast 

 mountain ranges — rugged, stern, and inhospitable — 

 frown in silent, majestic disdain. Here man is 

 scorned. The rude mountains frown, and the angry 

 winds rage, as if threatening destruction to all 

 who dare to venture here. But man shall triumph 

 yet ; for, as you stand upon a narrow ridge which 

 rises like a wall fourteen thousand feet above the sea, 

 and on your right and left snow- covered peaks tower 

 upwards nine or ten thousand feet higher, there, 

 stung by the failure of your efibrts by the paths of 

 induction, you boldly rush upon the dizzy heights 

 which are traversed by the dangerous paths of deduc- 

 tion. With a vigorous effort you fling imagination 

 back through time, and let it place you in an age 

 between which and the present countless ages have 

 intervened. You then find that not only the moun- 



