Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature, Science, and Art, No. 718

When first the men were missed, rockets had been fired, and blue-lights burned; and on the following day the cutter was sent to the westward, while the Chanticleer coasted along the opposite side; look-out men were constantly aloft; but nothing was to be seen of the missing men. The next day the ship had remained at Port Famine, and exploring parties were sent in all directions. On the third day they again weighed anchor, and examined a fresh piece of coast, but all to no purpose; and finally it was decided, with much regret, to give up the search, for every one concluded that the poor men must by this time have perished, even if they had survived the first night's cold, which no one on board thought possible. Both men were generally popular, and great grief was felt for their loss. Immediately a subscription was started by the whole ship's company for the widow of the one man and the mother of the other. Strangely enough, when the sad news reached England, the former, in spite of what seemed conclusive evidence, firmly refused to believe the assurance of her husband's death. Whether the wife's intuition or the more logical inferences of every one else proved correct, events will shew.

By the time Henty and Riddles reached, as we have seen, the opposite side of the Straits it was quite dark; but on the following day they found that the current had drifted them fourteen miles from Port Famine, towards which they had steered, and for which place they now started on foot. Here they saw in the distance a ship under steam going towards the Pacific; but again all efforts to attract attention failed. They knew of no settlement that they could hope to reach, and at this rough season there was not the slightest chance of falling in with any wandering tribes of natives. The only course left them was to endure the cold, wait as patiently as might be, in the hope of some ship passing within hail, and to keep up what little life remained in them by chewing sea-weed, and seeking and devouring the mussels, which fortunately were to be found in great abundance on the rocks. After a time, however, they grew so weak as to be only just able to crawl out of the place they had made to lie down in, and every day the effort to gather their scanty nourishment grew harder. Once more, on the 4th of October, they saw a vessel pass through the Straits, but were unable to make any signals; on the 7th, both men had grown too weak to stir, and nothing was left for them but to confront death. The 8th day passed, the 9th, the 10th, and they were still sinking slowly from starvation. On the 11th, when they could not possibly have lived more than a few hours longer, and had become little short of living skeletons, they were picked up by the officers of the Shearwater, and at once taken on board, where, after receiving the most careful attention, both, although still suffering greatly, began after a time to recover. Being conveyed by the Shearwater to Rio, they remained some time in the hospital there, and finally were sent home invalided; and yet both men lived to regain their full strength, and to serve as striking examples of what tough human nature can endure in the shape of physical hardships and mental anxiety. They had contrived, by a patience and energy almost unprecedented, to lengthen out existence for a space considerably over a month, with no other food than sea-weed and shell-fish; the last four days indeed eating absolutely nothing; while the whole time exposed to intense cold, the roughest weather, and more hardships than it is possible for those who have never seen that barren and desolate region even to imagine.

THE MONTH:

SCIENCE AND ARTS

Mr T. M. Reade, in his presidential address to the Liverpool Geological Society, discussed the question of 'geological time,' and took as an approximate measure thereof the denuding effect of rain-water on the earth's surface. The most rainy districts in England are those in which the oldest rocks prevail; but the average annual rainfall, including Wales, may be taken at 32 inches. Assuming the area of the two to represent one river basin, the quantity of water discharged in a year would contain more than eight million tons of solid matters; and at this rate, 12,978 years would be required to lower the surface of the land one foot. Analyses of sea-water shew that there are in 100,000 tons, 48 tons of carbonate of lime and magnesia, and 1017 tons of sulphate of lime and magnesia; and the ocean contains enough of the first to cover the whole of the land with a layer fifteen feet thick; and of the second to make a layer 267 feet thick. Twenty-five million years would be required to accumulate the one, and 480,000 years the other. Again, the total surface of the globe is 197 million square miles. A cubic mile of rock would weigh 10,903,552,000 tons; so that, as Mr Reade states, 'to cover the whole surface of the globe one mile deep with sediment from the land at the rate of 800 tons per square mile of land-surface, would take 52,647,052 years.'

Geologists have speculated over this question many years: it has now passed into the hands of mathematicians, without whose aid it will never be settled. The Rev. Dr Haughton, F.R.S., of Trinity College, Dublin, in a paper read before the Royal Society on the last evening of their session, 'On the probable age of the continent of Asia and Europe, and on the absolute measure of geological time,' says that the elevation of Asia and Europe from beneath the deep waters, separated the earth's axis of rotation from the axis of figure by 207 miles, which would produce a large amount of wabbling. At present, 'astronomers are agreed that the motion of the pole is secular and very slow, all traces of wabbling having disappeared.' Then after a series of mathematical demonstrations, the doctor continues: 'The geological age of the continent of Asia and Europe is well marked by the horizon of the Nummulitic Limestones,' which extend from the Mediterranean to Japan. 'These rocks make up the backbone of the great continent, and at its formation were raised from deep water to form the highest chains of mountains in the globe. Geologically speaking, they are modern, belonging to the Lower Tertiary Period. My calculations assign to the Nummulitic Epoch a date not less than 4157 millions of years ago. No practical geologist will feel any surprise at this result.'

In a paper read at the last meeting of the Geological Society, Mr Belt discussed various geological questions, and shewed reasons for believing that in the far remote ages, the north of Europe was covered by a great lake. 'The formation of this lake was due,' he remarked, 'to the ice of the glacial period flowing down the beds of the Atlantic and Pacific, and damming back the drainage of the continents as far as it extended. To the rising of these waters must be ascribed the destruction of palæolithic man, the mammoth, and the woolly rhinoceros. This lake was once suddenly and torrentially discharged through the breaking away of the Atlantic ice-dam, but was formed again and ultimately drained by the cutting through of the channel of the Bosphorus.' It is perhaps well to remark that these views are not as yet implicitly accepted.

In the Eocene deposits of New Mexico a fossil bone of a gigantic bird has been found, which, according to the description, had 'feet twice the bulk of those of the ostrich.' This discovery proves that huge birds formed part of the primeval fauna of North America, and that they were not confined exclusively to the southern hemisphere.

Professor Kirkwood states, in a paper on the relative ages of the sun and certain fixed stars read to the American Philosophical Society, that the history of the solar system is comprised within twenty or thirty millions of years; that our solar system is more advanced in its history than the constellation of the Centaur, and that the companion of Sirius appears to have reached a stage of greater maturity than the sun, while the contrary seems to be true in regard to the principal star.

The annual report on the great trigonometrical survey of India contains particulars which shew that surveying in India is by no means holiday pastime. Colonel Montgomerie, who has just retired after twenty-five years' service, was engaged during nine of those years in a survey of the dominions of the Maharaja of Kashmir, comprising about 77,000 square miles. Within this extensive area rise stupendous mountain ranges and peaks, the highest of which is more than 28,000 feet, and the Indus, Jhelum, Kishanganga, and other great rivers, flow through the valleys. To fix the position of heights and places in such a country requires a combination of courage, skill, and endurance rarely to be met with, but which happily for geographical science has been forthcoming ever since the Indian survey was commenced. The annual reports contain many accounts of adventurous journeys, and hazardous exploits which few readers would think of looking for among the dry details of a scientific triangulation. Sometimes on resuming work after the rainy season, the 'rays' or lanes which had been cut through the forest to clear a way for taking distant sights, would be found so choked by the shoots from tree-stumps and young bamboos which had grown to an 'astonishing height,' that more than thirty miles of such rays had to be cleared over again before the work could proceed. On extending the survey into Burmah it was only by cutting tracks through the dense forest that communications could be effected from station to station, and whenever an existing road could be made available it was regarded as a luxury. At Kamákabo it became necessary to carry the great theodolite to the top of a rocky hill: the sharp projecting rocks 'jutted out in every direction,' and as they could not be removed, ladders were stretched from rock to rock, and thus a most perilous ascent and descent was accomplished. The labour and risk may be judged of from the fact that the theodolite weighed more than six hundred pounds, and we can appreciate the satisfaction with which the observer wrote in his journal, 'it was a day of rejoicing when the instrument was brought down in safety.' At times a region of sand-hills was traversed where vision was not obstructed, but where not more than three wells of drinkable water were found in a distance of seventy miles. And once the observer waded through a mile of mud and water under a burning sun to an old lighthouse whence it was essential to take angles to fix the position of the new one five miles distant. A consequence of this exploit was an attack of malarious fever.

It seems likely that trigonometrical surveying may be carried on with less difficulty in future; for an Italian officer of engineers, Lieutenant Manzi, has proved that the triangulations can be photographed. It is possible to construct a camera geometrically arranged, and if the rays of light converging from distant points of view are intercepted, and marked on a diaphragm, it is evident that the angular readings obtained to such points would be identical in their bearings with the objects themselves. By such a camera, negative views of inaccessible ground can be faithfully taken, and the angles can be either plotted or calculated. Photography thus offers itself as a means whereby a difficult mountain country can be surveyed without risk, while for purposes of military recognisance its advantages are obvious.

For some time past attention has been directed towards steel-wire cables; and experiments recently made in Portsmouth Dockyard have clearly demonstrated their superiority over hemp and iron. Steel, as is well known, is more and more used in the building of ships, and, because of its tenacity and lightness, in their rigging; and now it seems likely to supersede the unwieldy hawsers and chain cables everywhere in use. With a chain the safety of the ship depends on the weakest welding; and when a single link parts, either from inherent defect or from a sudden jerk, everything parts, and the vessel drifts. A wire cable, on the contrary, gives notice, so to speak, of an approach to the breaking point. First one strand, then another, gives way, and still the cable holds, and it may happen that it will hold long enough to save the ship. Now that experiment has proved that a steel-wire cable is as flexible as the best hemp, that it is three times as strong, and does not cost more, the change from one to the other may be made with confidence. Another advantage is the lightness, for by making use of steel, about two-thirds of the usual weight of the cable is got rid of. Evidence of the strength is seen in the fact that a three-inch steel hawser did not break until the strain exceeded twenty-two tons, and that a strain of more than a hundred tons was required to break the six-inch.

Lieutenant Totten of the United States Army, in writing about explosives and big guns, discusses carefully the question as to the best kind of explosive for actual service; that which will expend its entire force in driving out the projectile. With the large-grained gunpowder now in use about half of the charge is wasted, while gun-cotton and dynamite exert an injurious strain upon the gun. As a way out of the difficulty, he recommends a 'compensating powder,' each grain of which contains a core of gun-cotton, and he points out that forty pounds of this powder would be sixty pounds stronger than a hundred-pound charge of gunpowder. The explanation is that by the time forty pounds of the hundred are burned, the shot has left the gun; consequently, sixty pounds are of no help to the shot. But if the forty pounds contain fifteen pounds of gun-cotton, then this cotton, when fired, acts on the already moving shot under the most favourable circumstances as a pure accelerator, and does not injure the gun. In this way, writes Lieutenant Totten, 'we eliminate the great waste of the one, curb the straining action of both, and obtain a true artillery powder, lighter, and four and a half times more effective, charge for charge, than our best gunpowder.'

An address 'On Light in some of its Relations to Disease,' delivered to the Albany Institute (State of New York) by Dr Stevens, sets forth views and facts which are worth consideration. Light, as we know, is on the whole beneficial; but may there not be cases in which it is harmful when passing through the transparent media of the human eye? Dr Stevens is clearly of opinion that many nervous diseases are aggravated if not produced by defective vision. The strain on the muscles of the eye, when long continued, sets up an irritability which tells injuriously on the nervous system, and neuralgic affections. St Vitus's dance and severe periodical headaches are the consequence. Rectify the imperfection of the sight, says Dr Stevens, by proper spectacles, and the nervous disease will be either mitigated or cured. It is of no use to buy glasses at hazard because they seem to suit the eye; for none but a scientific oculist can really decide, after careful experiment, on what is proper. In many cases the focus of the two eyes is not the same, and each must have its proper glass. Professor Donders of Utrecht was the first to point out that the so-called 'cylindrical glasses' were generally the most efficient; and since then 'the science of correcting anomalous refractions of the eye has been brought to a perfection which is truly wonderful.'

Dr Poumeau of Guadeloupe has published a series of tables, based on the changes of the moon, by which, as he believes, it is possible to tell the sex of a child before birth. He intends to draw up similar tables for the use of horse and cattle breeders; and if any one should test his calculations by observation, the doctor would like to be informed of the result.

The Journal of the Chemical Society contains an account by Mr Hight, of the Indian Forest Department, of experiments made with a view to ascertain the practical nature of a proposed method of determining the mineral strength of soils by means of water-culture. It is explained that the usual object of water-culture experiments is to find what particular salts are congenial or necessary to the growth of any particular plant. When a plant is grown in an artificially prepared solution, so that it can obtain its nourishment solely from the salts contained in that solution, the exact effect of any salt upon the growth of the plant can be easily observed by adding that salt to, or abstracting it from the solution. In carrying out this method, specimens of soil were taken from five different forests in India; solutions of these specimens were made; seedlings of Acacia arabica were, with proper precautions, placed in each, and the results of growth, such as increase in weight, number of leaves, and length of roots, were carefully noted. These results are published in a numerical table, and allowing for the difficulties of a preliminary experiment, may be regarded as satisfactory.

The question is frequently asked – Why is there no School of Forestry in England, while in almost all other countries of Europe schools of forest science are either established by the government, or are associated with a university or a polytechnic institution? Sir Joseph Hooker, President of the Royal Society, and Director of the Royal Gardens, Kew, says in one of his reports, that the subject is so neglected in this country, that when our government are in want of a forest inspector for India, they have first to send him to France or Germany to learn the theory and practice of taking care of a forest. On the continent, as Sir Joseph remarks, 'forestry holds a distinguished place among the branches of a liberal education. In the estimation of an average Briton, forests are of infinitely less importance than the game they shelter, and it is not long since the wanton destruction of a fine young tree was considered a venial offence compared with the snaring of a pheasant or rabbit. Wherever the English rule extends, with the exception of India, the same apathy, or at least inaction, prevails. In South Africa, according to the colonial botanist's report, millions of acres have been made desert, and more are being made desert annually, through the destruction of the indigenous forests; in Demarara the useful timber trees have all been removed from accessible regions, and no care or thought is given to planting others; from Trinidad we have the same story; in New Zealand there is not now a good Kauri pine to be found near the coast, and I believe that the annals of almost every English colony would repeat the tale of wilful wanton waste and improvidence. On the other hand in France, Germany, Switzerland, Austria, and Russia, the forests and waste lands are the subjects of devoted attention on the part of the government, and colleges, provided with a complete staff of accomplished professors, train youths of good birth and education to the duties of state foresters. Nor, in the case of France, is this practice confined to the mother country: the Algerian forests are worked with scrupulous solicitude, and the collections of vegetable produce from the French colonies in the permanent museum at Paris contain specimens which abundantly testify that their forests are all diligently explored.'

This is a long quotation; but it is justified by the importance of the subject, and it is quite clear that we cannot go on much longer without a School of Forestry. Diligent students can hardly fail to be forthcoming, and when once they shall have proved themselves efficient inspectors, the question of 'good' birth may be left to take care of itself.

THE DESERTED GARDEN

Beyond the woods, yet half by woods inclosed,A tangled wilderness of fair growth lay;A spot where dreaming poet might have dosedInto the dawning of a fairy day;For in its desolation wild reposedSomething that pointed to a past more gay,Since here and there one found the lingering traceOf caresome hands in the neglected place.The once trim walks were coated thick with moss;Dwarfed were the garden roses, and their glowFrom vivid crimson paled to fainter glossNigh broken sun-dial; and the water's flowHad ceased to murmur in the ancient foss,Whose slopes were now with purple thyme a-blow;And on the fragments of the crumbled wallThe golden wall-flower stood like seneschal.The nut-trees made an archway overgrown,And midst the boughs the timid squirrel leapt;At eve the nightingale with mellow toneSang with the mourning wind a dirge that creptInto all hearts – until one heart more loneThan others, gathered up the strain and wept;Nor knew if 'twere half joy or wholly griefThat in the sympathetic chord had found relief.The clouds sent flickering shadows o'er the grass,As though some spectral life were there upstirred;And as the fitful breezes onward pass,A murmur of strange voices might be heard,As though some unseen quire were chanting mass,Echoed throughout the grove by plaintive bird;And still the wanderer listening, asks for whomThe wild Amen! – For whom the flowers did bloom?The ancient summer-house with broken vane,And rotting pillars where the woodbines twine;And on a cobwebbed solitary paneIn casement, that with colours once did shine,And shewed the seasons through each differing stain,Was writ in jaggèd-wise a Latin line,'Sic transit gloria mundi;' and below,'My Ursula! the world is full of woe.'It read as epitaph above the graveOf human hopes, all blighted as the spaceAround, whose wreck no hand was stretched to save;Yet that with tender melancholy grace,A sermon in that blooming desert gaveTo him whose soul had power enough to traceIn the lone scene, so desolate, so lone,Though man upbuilds, God shapes the crowning stone.I spake the name a score of times aloud,'Sweet Ursula,' a source of joy and woe!The glory of a life, the light allowedTo make all nature flush with deeper glow.Then light put out – then darkness – then a cloudAnd agony that nought but love can know —The bitter memory of a sweetness past,A gleam of sunshine all too bright to last.The lazy lilies gleamed with petals whiteUpon the pool o'errun with weeds and sedges,That once shone clear and fair as mirror bright,With blue forget-me-nots on shelving ledges,Where water-flags upreared their banners light,And the marsh-mallow crept along its edges —But in the water face to face no moreSmiled back as in the happier days of yore.Ah! could the olden stones a story tell,How sweet a love-tale might they not revealOf mystic Ursula, and what befellIn the fond hopes and doubts that lovers feel,Till blighted by that sorrowful farewellThat all the beauty of the world did steal;Shattered the rainbow in fresh gathered cloud,And changed the bridal robe to funeral shroud.Perchance her monument this wildered spot,Tended by Nature's pitying hand alone,For one by generations now forgot,To whom he reared no proud sepulchral stone;But with love's jealousy he willed that notAnother o'er her grave should make his moan —But he alone through hieroglyphic bloom,Should haunt the precincts of the loved one's tomb.Ay, who can tell! For Time his seal hath setOn life and all its secrets gone before;The hearts are dead that never could forget;The hearts that live, but know the tale no more.Each hath its bitterness o'er which to fret,Each hath its joys eclipsing those of yore;To each its own small world the real seems,Outside of which is but a land of dreams.Yet still one loves to linger here and muse,And conjure up vague theories of the past;And here a hand to trace; and there to loseThe touch of human life upon it cast;And still for idle loitering make excuse,And weave a tale of mystery to the last;And in the old deserted garden bowersFind fairer blossoms than 'mongst tended flowers.Julia Goddard.