Charles Lyell and Modern Geology

"As to the scooping out of lake-basins by glaciers, I have had a long, amicable, but controversial correspondence with Wallace on that subject, and I cannot get over (as, indeed, I have admitted in print) an intimate connection between the number of lakes of modern date and the glaciation of the regions containing them. But as we do not know how ice can scoop out Lago Maggiore to a depth of 2,600 feet, of which all but 600 is below the level of the sea, getting rid of the rock supposed to be worn away as if it was salt that had melted, I feel that it is a dangerous causation to admit in explanation of every cavity which we have to account for, including Lake Superior. They who use it seem to have it always at hand, like the 'diluvial wave or the wave of translation,' or the 'convulsion of nature or catastrophe' of the old paroxysmists."144

In the summer he took a longer tour, going first to Westmoreland and then to Forfarshire; after which, in company with Lady Lyell and his nephew, he went to see the old rocks of Ross-shire, above Inchnadamff and Ullapool, and, as he returned, once more visited the parallel roads of Glenroy.

But, in the meantime, notwithstanding the difficulties mentioned above, he still kept working at his books. He was now engaged in modifying the "Elements of Geology." Of this, to quote the preface afterwards published, he had published "six editions between the years 1838 and 1865, beginning with a small duodecimo volume, which increased with each successive edition, as new facts accumulated, until in 1865 it had become a large and somewhat expensive work." He therefore determined, in accordance with the advice of friends, "to bring the book back again to a size more nearly approaching the original, so that it might be within the reach of the ordinary student." This was done by the omission of certain theoretical discussions and all such references to Continental geology as were not absolutely necessary.145

In 1870 Sir Charles continued to travel, though within the limits of these islands, for he made one journey along the coast of North Devon, and a second one to Scotland, in the course of which he visited the Isle of Arran, and on his return halted first at Ambleside and then at Liverpool, to attend the meeting of the British Association, which began on the 14th of September. The following year he paid an April visit to Tintagel, the Land's End, and other parts of Cornwall, and in the summer went to the North of England. Writing from Penrith to Sir C. Bunbury, he remarks "that he had much enjoyed his 'tour of inspection,' and had tried to make it a tour of rest, which is difficult." Naturally so, for he had been working his way from Buxton on the look-out for glacial deposits and studying especially the stratified drifts on the hills east of Macclesfield, 1,200 feet above the sea. His remarks on these show that he appreciated fully both the significance of the marine fossils which they contain and the theoretical difficulties caused by the absence of such remains in other deposits, whether in Derbyshire or the Lake District, or in the lowland between this locality and Moel Tryfaen, seventy-four miles away.

The tenth edition of the "Principles" had been quickly sold, and Sir Charles was now employed in the preparation of another one. In this less change was necessary than on the last occasion; still, the rapid increase of knowledge, more especially in regard to the temperature and currents of the sea, obliged him to make considerable alterations in the parts which dealt with these subjects and with questions of climate, so that he recast or rewrote five chapters.

It was published in January, 1872; and in the summer of that year, no doubt in view of a new edition of the "Antiquity of Man," he went to the south of France, with Lady Lyell and Professor T. M'K. Hughes, to examine the Aurignac cave. Here several human skeletons had been discovered some years before, apparently entombed with the bones of various extinct mammals, such as the cave-bear and lion, the mammoth and woolly rhinoceros – in short, with a fauna characteristic of the palæolithic age. But was this really the date of the interment? Some distinguished geologists were of opinion that, though the cave had been then occupied by wild beasts, its floor had been disturbed, and the corpses buried in neolithic times. On this point Lyell was unable to obtain conclusive evidence, and was obliged to confine himself to a statement of the facts and arguments on either side of the question.146

Shortly after the publication of this new edition of the "Antiquity of Man" in January, 1873, an unexpected and irreparable bereavement darkened the evening of his days. On April 24th Lady Lyell, the companion and helpmate of forty years, was taken from him after a few days' illness from an inflammatory cold.147 The shock was the more severe because the loss was so unforeseen. Lady Lyell was twelve years his junior, and had always enjoyed good health148– "youthful and vigorous for her age," as he writes – so that he "never contemplated surviving her, and could hardly believe it when the calamity happened." He bore the blow bravely, consoling himself by reflecting that the separation, at his age – nearly seventy-six – could not be for very long, and, as he writes to Professor Heer, of Zürich, endeavouring, "by daily work at my favourite science, to forget as far as possible the dreadful change which this has made in my existence."

Lady Lyell was a woman of rare excellence. "Strength and sweetness were hers, both in no common degree. The daughter of Leonard Horner, and the niece of Francis Horner, her own excellent understanding had been carefully trained, and she had that general knowledge and those intellectual tastes which we expect to find in an educated Englishwoman; and from her childhood she had breathed the refining air of taste, knowledge, and goodness. Her marriage … gave a scientific turn to her thoughts and studies, and she became to her husband, not merely the truest of friends and the most affectionate and sympathetic of companions, but a very efficient helper. She was frank, generous, and true; her moral instincts were high and pure; she was faithful and firm in friendship; she was fearless in the expression of opinion without being aggressive; and she had that force of character and quiet energy of temperament that gave her the power to do all that she had resolved to do… She had more than a common share of personal beauty; but had she not been beautiful she would have been lovely, such was the charm of her manners, which were the natural expression of warmth and tenderness of heart, of quick sympathies, and of a tact as delicate as a blind man's touch."149

He was not, however, left to bear in solitude the burden of darkening sight and of a desolated home. His eldest sister, Miss Lyell, came from Kinnordy to take care of his house and watch over him in these last years with an affectionate devotion; and in her company and that of Professor Hughes he even carried out the plan, which had been already in contemplation, of once more going on to the Continent and of visiting Professor Heer, at Zürich.

He worked on, as well as slowly increasing infirmities allowed, after his return to England, fully occupied in preparing a second edition of the "Student's Elements" and a new one of the "Principles."150 In June, 1874, he again visited Cambridge, this time to receive the degree of LL.D. – an honour which that University had been strangely slow in conferring upon him.151 It was then too evident that his strength was declining, for he became quickly fatigued by any exertion of body or mind; nevertheless, he was able soon afterwards to make once more the journey to Forfarshire, and to visit there several of his earlier geological haunts. In some of these little excursions he had as his companion Mr. J. W. Judd,152 with whose recent researches into the ruined volcanoes of Tertiary age and the yet earlier stratified rocks in the Western Isles of Scotland Sir Charles was hardly less interested than he would have been in the days when the "Principles" was a new book. Three or four letters written about this time have been printed153 which show, from their vigour and freshness, that the mind was still keen and bright, though the bodily machinery was becoming outworn. After his return to town he even ventured, on November 5th, to dine at the Geological Club,154 of which he had been a member from its foundation, on its fiftieth anniversary meeting, and "spoke with a vigour which surprised his friends."

The tale, however, is nearly told; the sands of life were running low. "His failing eyesight and other infirmities now began to increase rapidly, and towards the close of the year he became very feeble. But his spirit was ever alive to his old beloved science, and his affectionate interest and thought for those about him never failed. He dined downstairs on Christmas Day with his brother's family, but shortly after that kept to his room."

On February 22nd, 1875, Charles Lyell entered into his rest. The end may have been slightly accelerated by two causes – one, the death, from inflammation of the lungs, after a short illness, of his brother,155 Colonel Lyell, who, up to that time, had visited him almost daily; the other, the shock given to his enfeebled system by accidentally falling on the stairs a few weeks before. But in no case could it have been long delayed; the bodily frame was outworn; the hour of rest had come.

His fellow-workers in science felt unanimously that but one place of sepulture was worthy to receive the body of Charles Lyell – the Abbey of Westminster, our national Valhalla. A memorial, bearing many important signatures, was at once presented to Dean Stanley, who gave a willing consent, and the interment took place with all due solemnity on Saturday the 27th. The grave was dug in the north aisle of the nave, near that of Woodward, one of the pioneers of British geology and the founder of the chair of that science in the University of Cambridge. It is marked156 by a slab of Derbyshire marble, which bears this inscription: —

CHARLES LYELL,Baronet, F.R.S.,Author of"The Principles of Geology."Born at Kinnordy, in Forfarshire,November 14, 1797;Died in London,February 22, 1875Throughout a Long and Laborious LifeHe Sought the Means of DecipheringThe Fragmentary RecordsOf the Earth's HistoryIn the Patient InvestigationOf the Present Order of Nature,Enlarging the Boundaries of KnowledgeAnd Leaving on Scientific ThoughtAn Enduring Influence"O Lord, how great are Thy Works,And Thy Thoughts are very deep."Psalm xcii. 5

Sir Charles, by his will, left to the Geological Society of London the die, executed by Mr. Leonard Wyon, of a medal to be cast in bronze, and awarded annually to some geologist of distinction, whether British or foreign. He further left a sum of two thousand pounds, free of legacy duty, to the Society, in trust, the interest of it to be applied as follows: – Not less than one-third of it to accompany the medal, and the remainder to be given, in one or more portions, for the furtherance of the science. Sir Charles was succeeded in the family estates by his nephew Leonard, the eldest son of Colonel Lyell, who lives at Kinnordy, but has rebuilt the house. He was created a baronet in 1894.

CHAPTER XII.

SUMMARY

In stature, Sir Charles Lyell157 was rather above the middle height, somewhat squarely built, though not at all stout, with clear-cut, intellectual features, and a forehead, broad, high, and massive. He would have been a man of commanding presence, if his extremely short sight had not obliged him to stoop and peer into anything he wished to observe. This defect, in addition to the weakness of his eyes was a serious impediment in field work. As Professor Ramsay remarked in 1851, after spending a few days with him in the south of England, he required people to point things out to him, and would have been unable to make a geological map, "but understood all when explained, and speculated thereon well."158 This defect of sight, according to Sir J. W. Dawson, who had been his companion in more than one excursion in Canada, was at times even a source of danger. The expression of his face was one of thoughtful power and gracious benignity.159 "In his work, Lyell was very methodical, beginning and ending at fixed hours. Accustomed to make use of the help of others on account of his weak sight, he was singularly unconscious of outward bodily movement, though highly sensitive to pain. When dictating, he was often restless, moving from his chair to his sofa, pacing the room, or sometimes flinging himself full length on two chairs, tracing patterns on the floor, as some thoughtful or eloquent passage flowed from his lips. But though a rapid writer and dictator, he was sensitively conscientious in the correction of his manuscript, partly from a strong sense of the duty of accuracy, partly from a desire to save his publisher the expense of proof corrections. Hence passages once finished were rarely altered, even after many years, unless new facts arose."

The characteristic with which anyone who spent some time in Charles Lyell's company was most impressed, was his thirst for knowledge, combined with a singular openness, and perfect fairness of mind. He was absolutely free from all petty pride, and from "that common failing of men of science, which causes them to cling with such tenacity to opinions once formed, even in the face of the strongest evidence."160 Ramsay wrote of him,161 "We all like Lyell much; he is anxious for instruction, and so far from affecting the bigwig, he is not afraid to learn anything from anyone.162 The notes he takes are amazing." No man could have given a stronger proof of candour and plasticity of mind and of his care for truth alone than Lyell did in dealing with the question of the origin of species. From the first he approached it without prejudice. So long as the facts adduced by Lamarck and others appeared to him insufficient to support their hypotheses, he gave the preference to some modification of the ordinarily accepted view – that a species began in a creative act – but after reading Darwin's classic work,163 and discussing the subject in private, not only with its author, but also with Sir J. Hooker and Professor Huxley, he was convinced that Darwin was right in his main contention, though he held back in regard to certain minor points, for which he thought the evidence as yet insufficient. Of his conduct in this matter, Darwin justly wrote: "Considering his age, his former views, and position in society, I think his action has been heroic."164 Dean Stanley, in the pulpit of Westminster Abbey, on the Sunday following the funeral, summed up in a few eloquent sentences the great moral lesson of Lyell's life. "From early youth to extreme old age it was to him a solemn religious duty to be incessantly learning, fearlessly correcting his own mistakes, always ready to receive and reproduce from others that which he had not in himself. Science and religion for him not only were not divorced, but were one and indivisible."165

To ascertain the truth, and to be led by reason not by impulse, that was Lyell's great aim. Sedgwick once166 criticised his work in terms which, in one respect, seem to me curiously mistaken: "Lyell … is an excellent and thoughtful writer, but not, I think, a great field observer … his mind is essentially deductive not inductive." The former criticism, as has been already admitted, is just, but the latter, pace tanti viri, seems to me the reverse of the truth. Surely there never was a geologist whose habits and methods were more strictly inductive than Lyell's. He would spare no pains, and hardly any expense, to ascertain for himself what the facts were; he abstained from drawing any conclusion until he had accumulated a good store; he compared and marshalled them, and finally adopted the interpretation with which they seemed most accordant. This interpretation, however, would be modified, or even rejected, if new and important facts were discovered. Surely this is the method of induction; surely this is the mode of reasoning adopted by Darwin and by Newton, and even by Bacon himself. But Sedgwick, great man as he was, almost unrivalled in the field, more brilliant, though less persevering than Lyell, was not always quite free from prejudices; and it may be noted that he more than once stigmatises an opinion which he dislikes by declaring it not to be in accordance with inductive methods. Sir Joseph Hooker's judgment was far more accurate: "One of the most philosophical of geologists, and one of the best of men"167; or that of Charles Darwin himself: "The science of geology is enormously indebted to Lyell – more so, as I believe, than to any other man who ever lived."168

Lyell felt a keen interest in the broader aspect of political questions, and this not only in his own country,169 though he took little or no share in party struggles, for the vulgarity of the demagogue and the coarseness of the hustings were offensive to a man of such refinement. His opinions harmonised with his scientific habits of thought, always progressive, but never extravagant. He was in favour of greater freedom in education, of the restriction of class privileges, and of an extension of the franchise, but he saw clearly that anything like universal suffrage, as the world is at present constituted, would only mean giving a preponderating influence to those least competent to wield it; that is, to the more ignorant and easily deluded. As in such cases the glib tongue would become more potent than the voice of reason, the demagogue than the statesman, he feared that the standard of national honour would be almost inevitably lowered, and national disaster be a probable result. That all men are equal and entitled to an equal share in the government – a dogma now regarded in some circles as almost sacred – would have been repudiated by him with the quiet scorn of a man who prefers facts to fancies, and inductive reasoning to sentimental rhapsody. A partisan he could not be, for he saw too clearly that in political matters truth and right were seldom a monopoly of any side, and though by no means wanting in a certain quiet and restrained enthusiasm, he had almost an abhorrence of fanaticism. One example may serve for many, to indicate the way in which he regarded both this spirit and any difficult question. Naturally he had a strong dislike to slavery; he fully recognised the injustice and wrong to the negro, and the evil effects upon the master. Nevertheless, after visiting the Southern States, and giving the impressions of his journey, he thus expresses himself: "The more I reflected on the condition of the slaves, and endeavoured to think on a practical plan for hastening the period of their liberation, the more difficult the subject appeared to me, and the more I felt astonished at the confidence displayed by so many anti-slavery speakers and writers on both sides of the Atlantic. The course pursued by these agitators shows that, next to the positively wicked, the class who are usually called 'well-meaning persons' are the most mischievous in society." He then points out how a strong feeling against slavery had been springing up in Virginia, Kentucky, and Maryland; how the emancipation party had been gaining ground, and slavery steadily retreating southwards, but "from the moment that the abolition movement began, and that missionaries were sent to the Southern States, a reaction was perceived – the planters took the alarm – laws were passed against education – the condition of the slave was worse, and not a few of the planters, by dint of defending their institutions against the arguments and misrepresentations of their assailants, came actually to delude themselves into a belief that slavery was legitimate, wise, and expedient – a positive good in itself."170 At a subsequent period he speaks of Mrs. Beecher Stowe's famous book, "Uncle Tom's Cabin," as "a gross caricature." But in the great struggle between the Northern and Southern States, his sympathies went with the former. It was the fairness of his criticisms, and his hearty appreciation of the good side in American institutions, that won him many friends and made his books welcome on that side of the Atlantic.

Lyell's views on religious questions accorded, as might be expected, with the general bent of his mind. He was a member of the Church of England,171 appreciated its services, the charm of music, and the beauty of architecture, but he failed to understand why nonconformity should entail penalties, whether legal or social. His mind was essentially undogmatic; feeling that certainty was impossible in questions where the ordinary means of verification could not be employed, he abstained from speculation and shrank from formulating his ideas, even when he was convinced of their general truth.

He was content, however, to believe where he could not prove, and to trust, not faintly, the larger hope. So he worked on in calm confidence that the honest searcher after truth would never go far astray, and that the God of Nature and of Revelation was one. He sought in this life to follow the way of righteousness, justice, and goodness, and he died in the hope of immortality.

As he disapproved of any approach to persecution on the ground of religion, so he objected strongly to the exclusive privileges which in his day were enjoyed by the Church of England, especially to its virtual monopoly of education. On this point he several times expresses himself in forcible terms; as, for instance, in these words: "The Church of England ascendency is really the power which is oppressive here, and not the monarchy, nor the aristocracy. Perhaps I feel it too sensitively as a scientific man, since our Puseyites have excluded physical science from Oxford. They are wise in their generation. The abject deference to authority advocated conscientiously by them can never survive a sound philosophical education."172 To this party – or to the "Catholic movement," as it is now often called – in the Church of England, Lyell had a strong dislike; he deemed their claims to authority unwarrantable, their practices in many respects either childish or superstitious.

As we have endeavoured to bring out in the course of this volume the guiding principles of Lyell's work, a brief recapitulation only is needed as a conclusion. That work was regulated by two maxims: the one, "Go and see"; the other, "Prefer reason to authority." To the first maxim he gave expression more than once, while he was always inculcating it by example. Imitating the well-known saying of Demosthenes in regard to oratory, he emphatically declares that in order to form comprehensive views of the globe, the first, the second, and the third requisite is "travel."173 What he preached, he practised; about a quarter of the last fifty years of his life must have so been spent. Of the second maxim also he was a living example. It was his practice not only to see for himself, but also to judge for himself, in all questions other than those necessarily reserved for specialists; his rule, that thought should be free from the fear of man, but subject to the laws of reasoning. As a young man he had advocated, almost single-handed, scientific views which were unpopular alike with the older authorities in geology and with the supposed friends of religion; he had protested against the invocation of catastrophic destruction and cataclysmal flood in order to clear away difficulties in the past history of the earth; in other words, against an appeal to miracle, when a cause could be found in the existing order of Nature; and he had disputed the right of any priesthood, whether Romanist or Protestant, to hold the keys of knowledge. He vindicated, against all corners, his claim – nay, his birthright – to sit, as an earnest student, at the feet of Nature to listen and to learn, as she chose to teach, whether by the acted drama of the living world or by the silent record of the rocks. He was, in short, more observer than theorist, more philosopher than poet, more a servant of reason than a dreamer of dreams.

His example is one well worthy of remembrance at the present epoch. The "whirligig of time" has brought its revenges, and has introduced into geology a class of students almost unknown in the days when Lyell was in his vigour. The developments of mineralogy and palæontology, helpful and valuable as they have been by making geology more of an exact science and, in some cases, substituting order for confusion, have tended to produce students very familiar with the apparatus of a laboratory or the collections of a museum, but not with the face of the earth. This, in itself, would not be necessarily hurtful, because the field of geology is so wide that there is room for all; but it leads sometimes to an undue exaltation of trifles, to an over-estimation of the "mint, anise, and cummin" of science, to a waste of time upon what is called the literature of the subject. This last often means either searching much chaff for a few grains of wheat, or spending much labour with the hope of discovering whether A or B was the first to confer a name upon a species; the priority perhaps being only of a few months, and that name neither particularly appropriate nor euphonious. Partly from this, partly from other causes, the importance, nay, the absolute necessity of travel, for the education of a geologist is now too often forgotten. In this science there are many questions – some of them almost fundamental – for which no perquisitions in a library, no research in a laboratory, no studies in a museum, however conscientiously patient and painstaking they may be, can be accepted as an adequate preparation; questions in which Nature is at once the best book, the best laboratory, and the best museum, and experience is the only safe teacher. What would Lyell have said to men – and such might now be named – who undertook to discuss wide geological problems with the most limited experience who, for example, posed as authorities upon what ice can or cannot do, without having even seen a glacier or speculated on the most intricate questions in petrology without having studied more than some corner of this island, or, indeed, without any precise knowledge of that? Would not he – averse as he was to speaking severely – have censured them for talking about things which they could not possibly understand, and for darkening counsel by words without knowledge?