The object of Geology is to examine and record the appearances presented by the Crust of the Earth; and by the aid of these appearances, to trace out the long series of events by which it has been brought into its present condition. Geology, therefore, like all other natural sciences, is made up partly of fact, and partly of theory. It belongs to the Geologist first to investigate the phenomena which the Crust of the Earth exhibits to the eye. For this purpose he descends into the mine and the quarry; he visits the lofty cliff by the sea-shore, the deep ravine on the mountain side, the cutting of a railway; in a word, every spot where a section of the Earth’s Crust is exposed to view, either by the action of Nature or by the hand of man. He then retires into the silence of his closet, with his note-book and his specimens; and there, having arranged and classified the various phenomena which he has already examined with his eyes in the outer world, he proceeds to make his deductions, and to build up his theory. He seeks to explain how materials, so diverse in their composition, have come to be piled up together, with such admirable order, and yet with such endless variety; and how the solid rocks have come to be the repository of petrified trees and plants and bones and shells, which seem, as it were, to start up from their graves, and to tell strange stories of a bygone world. In the early days of Geology there were comparatively few who devoted themselves with patient industry to the collection and classification of facts: while the number was legion of those who, with a very meagre knowledge of facts, set themselves to build up systems. A vast multitude of different and conflicting theories were, in this way, brought into existence, and attracted for a time much public attention, each one being vehemently defended by its friends and as vehemently assailed by its enemies. These theories resting on no solid foundation, could not hold their ground against the advancing tide of new discoveries. They flourished for a brief space, and then gave way to others scarcely more substantial, which were destined in their turn to be likewise rejected and forgotten. Thus it came to pass, from the manifest instability of its principles, that Geology was long held in light repute, and practical men set little store by its boasted discoveries and startling revelations.