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If we

land which may not have been brought about by the working of those slow every-day processes which are in progress now.

There can be no dispute regarding the abundance of the upheavals, subsidences, and dislocations which the crust of the earth bas undergone; but that our valleys and ravines are not mere cracks, would seem to be put beyond dispute by the fact that for one valley which happens to run along the line of a dislocation, there

are, I dare say, fifty or a hundred which do not.* Moreover, it can be shown that out of every valley and glen a great mass of solid rock has been carried bodily away, and that even the highest mountain-tops have suffered a similar loss. could restore the missing material, we should, in truth, be able to fill up the glens and valleys again, so that the mountainous parts of the country would thus be turned into rolling table-lands.

But perhaps the most evident argument against the doctrine of fracture and convulsion, and in favour of the Huttonian theory of erosion, is to be found in the very grouping of the valleys themselves. It appears to me hard to see how a thoughtful survey of the configuration of a land-surface can lead to any other conclusion, than that “the mountains have been formed by the hollowing out of the valleys, and the valleys have been hollowed out by the attrition of hard materials coming from the mountains."

Did the reader ever stand on a flat shore and watch how the water, which had soaked into the sand just below the upper limit of the tide, trickled down the seaward slope towards the pools and shallows on the lower part of the beach ? He could hardly find a better illustration of the drainage of a country. The water that oozes out from below high-tide mark, begins by degrees to gather into tiny runnels ; these gain size and speed as they descend, often flowing into each other, and thus with their united torrent cutting narrow and sometimes tortuous channels for themselves out of the sand. If the locality be a favourable one, these miniature rivers may be seen undermining their banks, and sweeping the debris away to sea. Thus the sand which wore, perhaps, a

* There is no point which the detailed investigations of the Geological Survey have made clearer than this.

perfectly smooth surface when the tide left it a few hours before, is now channelled and worn into diminutive valleys, gorges, and ravines, with narrow ridges and broader plateaux between them. It might then be taken as a kind of relief model of the drainage of one side of a country. As the process of erosion goes on, the likeness of the beach to a series of river-systems grows every minute more marked. But at last the turned tide comes back and levels the whole; thus illustrating what geologists call “a plain of marine denudation.” Yet again this levelled surface, when the tide retires, is once more exposed, the same system of water-carving goes on as before, and a new system of valleys, ravines, watercourses, ridges, and table-lands makes its appearance.

Now it is, I believe, in this kind of way that a great riversystem is excavated. The process is then, of course, an infinitely longer one, calling in, as we shall see, the agency of rain, springs, streams, and ice, and making these all work together for the accomplishment of the general end; but in either case the ultimate result is achieved by denudation. Water seeking its way seaward cuts a net-work of paths for itself: an hour or two is enough to channel the sandy beach—millions of years may be needed to cut down a mass of high ground into mountain and glen; but in the long lapse of geological time the one result is, doubtless, as sure as the other.

The conclusion, therefore, to which an attentive examination of the present surface of the country points is, that although the rocks have unquestionably suffered much from subterranean commotion, it is not to that cause that their present external forms are chiefly to be traced ; that the mountains exist, not because they have been upheaved as such above the valleys, but because their flanks having been deeply cut away they have been left standing out in relief; and that the valleys are there, not by virtue of old rents and subsidences, but because moving water, with its belp-mates frost and ice, has carved them out of the solid rock.

GEIKIE's Scenery of Scotland.

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SCENE.--Rome. A Public Place.

Met. Most high, most mighty, and most

puissant Cæsar,
Enter, in procession, with music, CÆSAR,
BRUTUS, and CASSIUS, a great crowd

Metellus Cimber throws before thy seat
An humble heart,-

[Kneeling. following; among them a Soothsayer.

Cæs. I must prevent thee, Cimber. Sooth. Cæsar!...

These couchings and these lowly courtesies Cæs. Who is it in the press that calls Might fire the blood of ordinary men, on me?

And turn pre-ordinance and first decree, I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music, Into the law of children. Be not fond, Cry Cæsar!” Speak; Cæsar is turned to To think that Cæsar bears such rebel blood hear.

That will be thawed from the true quality Sooth. Beware the ides of March!

With that which melteth fools; I mean, Caes.

What man is that? sweet words, Bru. A soothsayer, bids you beware the Low-crooked court’sies, and base spanielides of March.

fawning. Cæs. Set him before me; let me see his Thy brother by decree is banished: face.

If thou dost bendand pray and fawn for him, Cas. Fellow, come from the throng ; I spurn thee like a cur out of my way. look upon Cæsar.

Know, Cæsar doth not wrong; nor without Coes. What say'st thou to me now? cause Speak once again.

Will he be satisfied. Sooth. Beware the ides of March.

Met. Is there no voice more worthy than Cæs. He is a dreamer; let us leave him :

my own, pass.

To sound more sweetly in great Cæsar's ear, [Exeunt all vut BRUTUS and CASSIUS.

For the repealing of my banished brother? [Cassius persuades Brutus to join in a

Bru. I kiss thy hand, but not in flattery,

Cæsar; conspiracy against CESAR.]

Desiring thee that Publius Cimber may SCENE. -The Capitol. The Senate sitting.

Have an immediate freedom of repeal.

Cæs. What, Brutus ! Enter CÆSAR, BRUTUS, METELLUS, AN

Cas. Pardon, Cæsar; Cæsar, pardon: TONY, CASSIUS, CASCA, CINNA, DE

As low as to thy foot doth Cassius fall, CIUS, and others.

To beg enfranchisement for Publius Cimber. Cas. [To the Soothsayer] The ides of Cæs. I could be well moved, if I were as March are come.

you; Sooth. Ay, Cæsar; but not gone. .... If I could pray to move, prayers would Dec. Where is Metellus Cimber? Let

move me:

But I am constant as the northern star, And presently prefer his suit to Cæsar. Of whose true-fixed and resting quality Bru. He is addressed: press near, and There is no fellow in the firmament. second him.

The skies are painted with unnumbered Cin. Casca, you are the first that rears sparks,

They are all fire, and every one doth shine, Cæs. Are we all ready? what is now amiss But there's but one in all doth hold his That Cæsar and his senate must redress?


him go,

your hand.

So in the world; 'tis furnished well with Of half that worth as those your swords, men,

made rich And men are flesh and blood, and appre- With the most noble blood of all this hensive;

world. Yet in the number I do know but one I do beseech ye, if you bear me hard, That unassailable holds on his rank, Now, whilst your purpled hands do reek Unshaked of motion : and that I am he,

and smoke, Let me a little show it, even in this; Fulfil your pleasure. Live a thousand That I was constant Cimber should be

years, banished,

I shall not find myself so apt to die: And constant do remain to keep him so. No place will please me so, no mean of Cin. O Cæsar,

death, Cæs. Hence! wilt thou lift up Olympus? As here by Cæsar, and by you cut off, Dec. Great Cæsar,

The choice and master spirits of this age. Cæs. Doth not Brutus bootless kneel? Bru. O Antony! beg not your death of Casca. Speak, hands, for me!

(CASCA stabs CÆSAR in the neck. Though now we must appear bloody and

CÆSAR catches hold of his arm. cruel,
He is then stabbed by several other | As, by our hands, and this our present act,
Conspirators, and at last by MAR- You see we do, yet see you but our hands,

And this the bleeding business they have Coes. Et tu Brute! Then fall, Cæsar.

done : [Dies. The senators and people retire Our hearts you see not; they are pitiful! in confusion.

And pity to the general wrong of RomeCin. Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is As fire drives out fire, so pity pity-dead!

Hath done this deed on Cæsar. For your Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the part, streets.

To you our swords have leaden points, Cas. Some to the common pulpits, and

Mark Antony: cry out,

Our arms, in strength of malice, and our ‘Liberty, freedom, and enfranchisement !” hearts, Bru. People, and senators! be not Of brothers' temper, do receive you in affrighted;

With all kind love, good thoughts, and Fly not; stand still: ambition's debt is reverence. paid.

Cas. Your voice shall be as strong as Casca. Go to the pulpit, Brutus. Dec.

And Cassius too. In the disposing of new dignities. Bru. Where's Publius?

Bru. Only be patient till we have apCin. Here, quite confounded with this peased mutiny.

The multitude, beside themselves with

fear, [While the Conspirators consult to- And then we will deliver you the cause, gether,]

Why I, that did love Cæsar when I struck

him, Re-enter ANTONY.

Have thus proceeded. . . Bru.

Welcome, Mark Antony. Ant. That I did love thee, Cæsar, 0, Ant. O mighty Cæsar ! dost thou lie so 'tis true : low?

If then thy spirit look upon us now, Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, Shall it not grieve thee dearer than thy spoils,

death, Shrunk to this little measure? Fare thee To see thy Antony making his peace, well.

Shaking the bloody fingers of thy foes, I know not, gentlemen, what you intend, Most noble ! in the presence of thy corse? Who else must be let blood, who else is Had I as many eyes as thou hast wounds, rank:

Weeping as fast as they stream forth thy If I myself, there is no hour so fit

blood, A3 Cæsar's death hour, nor no instrument It would become me better than to close

any man's


In terms of friendship with thine enemies. Woe to the hand that shed this costly Pardon me, Julius!....

blood ! Cas. Mark Antony,

Over thy wounds now do I prophesy,-Ant.

Pardon me, Caius Cassius : Which, like dumb mouths, do ope their Friends am I with you all, and love you ruby lips,

To beg the voice and utterance of my Upon this hope, that you shall give me tongue;reasons

A curse shall light upon the limbs of men; Why and wherein Cæsar was dangerous. Domestic fury and fierce civil strife

Bru. Or else were this a savage spectacle: Shall cumber all the parts of Italy : Our reasons are so full of good regard, Blood and destruction shall be so in use, That were you, Antony, the son of Cæsar, And dreadful objects so familiar, You should be satisfied.

That mothers shall but smile when they Ant.

That's all I seek : behold And am moreover suitor, that I may Their infants quartered with the hands of Produce his body to the market-place;

war; And in the pulpit, as becomes a friend, All pity choked with custom of fell deeds: Speak in the order of his funeral.

And Cæsar's spirit, ranging for revenge, Bru. You shall, Mark Antony,

With Até by his side, come hot from hell, Cas.

Brutus, a word with you. Shall in these confines with a monarch's (Aside to Bru.) You know not what you voice do: do not consent

Cry Havoc,” and let slip the dogs of That Antony speak in his funeral:

war..... Know you how much the people may be moved

Enter a Servant. By that which he will utter?

You serve Octavius Cæsar, do you not? Bru.

By your pardon;- Serv. I do, Mark Antony. I will myself into the pulpit first,

Ant. Cæsar did write for him to come And show the reason of our Cæsar's death: to Rome. What Antony shall speak, I will protest Serv. He did receive his letters, and is He speaks by leave and by permission,

coming ; And that we are contented Cæsar shall And bid me say to you by word of mouthHave all true rites and lawful ceremonies. O Cæsar !

[Seeing the body. It shall advantage more than do us wrong. Ant. Thy heart is big, get thee apart and Cas. I know not what may fall; I like it weep. not.

Passion, I see, is catching; for mine eyes, Bru. Mark Antony, here, take you Seeing those beads of sorrow stand in thine, Cæsar's body.

Began to water. Is thy master coming ? You shall not in your funeral speech blame Serv. He lies to-night within seven us,

leagues of Rome. But speak all good you can devise of Ant. Post back with speed, and tell him Cæsar,

what hath chanced : And say you do 't by our permission; Here is a mourning Rome, a dangerous Else shall you not have any hand at all

Rome, About his funeral: and you shall speak No Rome of safety for Octavius yet; In the same pulpit whereto I am going, Hie hence, and tell him so. Yet, stay a After my speech is ended.

while; Ant.

Thou shalt not back till I have borne this I do desire no more.

corse Bru! Prepare the body then, and follow Into the market-place: there shall I try, us.

[Exeunt all but ANTONY. In my oration, how the people take Ant. 0, pardon me, thou bleeding piece The cruel issue of these bloody men; of earth,

According to the which, thou shalt dis. That I am meek and gentle with these course butchers !

To young Octavius of the state of things. Thou art the ruins of the noblest man Lend me your hand. That ever lived in the tide of times.

[Exeunt with CÆSAR's body.

Be it so;

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