i 
THE DIVINE ABYSS 
I 
N making the journey to the great Southwest, — 
Colorado, New Mexico, and Arizona, — if one 
does not know his geology, he is pretty sure to wish 
he did, there is so much geology scattered over all 
these Southwestern landscapes, crying aloud to be 
read. The book of earthly revelation, as shown by 
the great science, lies wide open in that land, as it 
does in few other places on the globe. Its leaves 
fairly flutter in the wind, and the print is so large 
that he who runs on the California Limited may 
read it. Not being able to read it at all, or not taking 
any interest in it, is like going to Rome or Egypt or 
Jerusalem, knowing nothing of the history of those 
lands. 
Of course, we have just as much geology in the 
East and Middle West, but the books are closed 
and sealed, as it were, by the enormous lapse of time 
since these portions of the continent became dry 
land. The eroding and degrading forces have ages 
since passed the meridian of their day’s work, and 
grass and verdure hide their footsteps. But in the 
great West and Southwest, the gods of erosion and 
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