460 Geology as a Science and an Art. [August, 
the enlightened application of theoretical knowledge of 
geology, as in the case of the Artesian well at Grenelle, near 
Paris.] 
As an art, then, geology has done great service to man- 
kind, and in doing so she has profited as a science. Such a 
well as that of Grenelle, near Paris, would never have been 
sunk without the aid of the geologist. But in sinking such 
a well new fa( 5 ts are learnt and new inferences drawn, 
which maybe built up into the fabric of geological doctrine. 
This is always the case when science and art work hand in 
hand. To take one other example among many, science 
gives to the world the art of telegraphy ; and when tele- 
graphy is established, science can fix with an accuracy 
otherwise impossible the longitude of such a place as the 
Observatory of the Cape of Good Hope, and thus add to the 
accuracy of her doctrine. 
I now pass on to illustrate the methods and results of 
geological inquiry. I have said that geology is an historical 
science. The question therefore arises, How are we to 
solve such problems as the mode of origin of the rocks, 
seeing that they were formed in the remote past ? There is an 
old method and a new, an unscientific method and a scientific. 
The old method was to sit in your study and think the matter 
out . Let me give you the results of one or two of these 
thinkings. One thinker — it is hardly necessary to mention 
the names of these excellent folk — one thinker imagined 
that the crust of the earth was fissured by the sun’s rays, 
and thus the diluvial waters were let loose from a supposed 
central abyss, and from these waters the rocks — they are 
estimated to be about fourteen miles thick in England — 
were deposited in a few days. Another attributed every- 
thing to the tail of a comet, with which the earth was 
fortunate or unfortunate enough to come in contact. A 
third set down the formation of all the strata to the heaping 
up of materials thrown out by volcanoes. Then, again, 
with regard to the fossilised remains of organic beings. One 
said they were sports of nature, very like real shells indeed, 
but due to the influence of the stars or to fermentation. 
Another followed Theophrastes, the pupil of Aristotle, in 
saying that the fish had gone astray out of the rivers, and 
so — how much lies hid in that “and so” — and so got petri- 
fied. While a third maintained that the fossil shells on high 
mountains had fallen from the hats of holy pilgrims. We 
laugh at these idle speculations. But it is rather the futility 
of the method than its results that we should deride. I, for 
one, have no wish to disparage honest studious thought, but 
