Containing an introductory glance at some of the different Theories and Opinions which have been advanced respecting the formation of the Earth, and the reception which those Theories met with from the world when first promulgated.

It often happens, that those who have been early taught to believe a certain set of principles and doctrines as true, whether in philosophy, religion, or politics, adhere to them with the utmost pertinacity during the remainder of their lives. Any new theory, or principle, is resisted with peculiar energy; and, however inconsistent or untrue their favorite systems may be, they are disposed to make principles and facts bend to them; and would sooner call in question the general and immutable laws of nature, than the correctness of their own opinions. Perhaps this pertinacious adherence to prevalent and received opinions has retarded the progress of philosophic improvement more than the want of bold, original, and enquiring genius.

In former times those who cultivated science, or rather those who were called learned, generally based their philosophy on the doctrines of Aristotle; which, as they had been taught to reverence them from their infancy, had become almost interwoven with their constitutions. Hence, though time has unfolded to us their errors, during several centuries, suspicion never hinted their fallibility. The doctrine of the revolutions of the earth, and other planets; of gravitation, magnetism, and other properties now known to belong to matter; have each in their turn met with a strong opposition from the most learned men living at the time of their discovery. But, notwithstanding this opposition, in all ages, a few bold, enquiring minds have had the firmness to dissent from the established doctrines of the schoolmen, and to lay the foundation of new systems, the correctness of which subsequent improvements in science have more or less demonstrated to the world.

Although nearly six thousand years have elapsed since man has been placed upon the earth, he yet knows but little of its formation. Notwithstanding all our enterprise, all our boasted acquirements, and discoveries, its true form yet remains uncertain; and although admitted that it is not quite eight thousand miles in diameter, we still have never explored its extent. A space of nearly forty degrees of latitude remains as little known to us, as if it were a part of the surface of Saturn, or an orb revolving round a star of the eighth magnitude. We know nothing of the inhabitants of those regions, or what kind of animate beings exist in them.

It was a prevailing opinion among the ancients, the correctness of which they for ages never called in question, that the temperate zones of our globe were alone habitable.—The torrid zone they imagined was composed of nothing but sandy deserts, scorched up by the vertical and insupportable beams of a burning sun. The frigid zones, they believed were begirt with eternal snows, and "thick ribbed ice," which rendered them inaccessible to man, and incapable of supporting animal or vegetable life. Hence none ventured to approach them.

Subsequent discoveries have, however, taught us the errors of the ancients. We now know that the torrid zone teems with organic life; and possesses, in many parts, a population more dense than the temperate, and is equally well adapted to its support: nay, we even find the temperature of that region to be such that it contains mountains capped with perpetual snows, which the beams of a July sun do not dissolve. It has also been ascertained that the frigid zones are partially inhabited: but it seems that a certain timid dread, perhaps in part attributable to the prejudices imbibed from our ancestors, has prevented our exploring the extent of those regions. However, as far as civilized man has yet ventured to penetrate towards the poles, we find that plants grow, flowers bloom, and human beings make a permanent residence; nay, even the untutored savages who reside there tell us that other human beings reside yet further to the north; and animals are known to migrate in that direction. Reasoning then from analogy, and from what we know, we have no ground to conclude that such a vast extent of surface has been created by an all-wise Providence for no other purpose, than to be eternally clothed with mountains of ice. Such a conclusion comports not with the general economy we do know to exist throughout his works.

We are constrained to acknowledge, notwithstanding our improvements in science, that, comparatively, we know but little of the economy of nature. Within a few years past, almost an entire revolution has taken place in the world respecting the philosophy of light and heat—a change which affects the theory both of their nature, and of their causes:—They are now believed to be two distinct things, and that the sun communicates neither, but merely gives activity, in some manner not yet known, to the principles, or matter, of light and heat with which our elements abound. If this be the case, as I believe is now admitted by the learned world, we cannot undertake to say, that the intensity or the absence of either, is necessarily dependant alone on the altitude of the sun, under any particular latitude; or on our nearness to, or remoteness from, the centre of the system:—For aught we know, both may be connected with arrangements that require but few of the sun's rays to make them answer the purposes of organic life. For aught we can tell, the planet Georgium Sidus, which rolls eighteen hundred millions of miles distant from the orb of day, may, nevertheless, be favoured with as brilliant light, and as genial warmth as our little globe; and for aught we know the interior of this planet, in the concavity of the spheres, under the equator, may enjoy the same light and heat that fructify and bless the equatorial climes on the convex surface.

During a period of several thousand years the ancients were of opinion that the earth was a perfect plane, at rest, and supported below by an unknown something; that it was bounded on all sides by an impassable barrier, and covered with the blue canopy of heaven, in which the sun, moon, and stars performed their diurnal revolutions for the sole use and service of a few frail mortals. They believed that the sun, every morning rose out of the Eastern sea; and in the evening plunged into the Western ocean; that the stars were lighted up in the evening by some kind deity, and extinguished before the appearance of the sun. For ages none doubted the correctness of such a theory. At length, however, from an attentive examination of the regular appearances and revolutions of the heavenly bodies, some of the Babylonians adopted the opinion that the earth was spherical; revolving at regular periods round the sun, as the centre of the universe. In this they were followed by Pythagoras and others. But those efforts of genius, for the most part, met no other reward than the execrations of the exasperated multitude. Such innovations were deemed an impious crime against the gods, and could only be atoned for by the sacrifice of their lives. In those times the people of every nation, like the untutored Indian of our North Western wilderness at this day, considered their own country to be situated in the centre of the world, and they, the most favoured people. Even in later times, when the system of the Babylonians, and that of Pythagoras, were revived by Copernicus; and, when new discoveries respecting the form and revolutions of the earth, and other parts of the universe, were made by Galileo, not more than two hundred years since, we find an ignorant and bigoted world alarmed at such opinions. We find Galileo, that incomparable philosopher, cited before the court of Inquisition, accused of heresy, and thrown into prison. The charge of heresy against him was supported by alleging that he maintained the two following positions, viz.

1. "That the sun is the centre of the world, and immoveable by a local motion;" and

2. "That the earth is not the centre of the world, nor immoveable, but that it moves with a diurnal motion."

These positions he was not permitted to maintain or defend, but was ordered to renounce them; and was prohibited from vindicating them either in conversation or writing. However strange and impious these doctrines appeared at that time, subsequent ages have confirmed their correctness.

When Columbus advanced the theory of a western continent, he was ridiculed, persecuted, and contemned, by nearly all the literati of Europe. It was an idea which had never before entered their minds. But, notwithstanding all their opposition and ridicule, the correctness of his "visionary theory," as they were pleased to call it, was demonstrated by the actual discovery of this vast continent, which is now sustaining millions of the very happiest of the human race.

Many of the important discoveries of the immortal Newton, at the time they were first promulgated to the world, were denounced as the splendid visions of a madman; but, subsequent ages have done him justice.

Much as we may feel ourselves elated on account of the new lights which have since been shed upon us, by the further progress and developement of science; yet, when I reflect on the unkind treatment which Captain Symmes and his new theory have received in our own day, I cannot help fearing that we are still, in some degree, under the influence of the same feelings and prejudices which brought the earlier philosophers to the torture, and the prison. This theory differs much less from the one now commonly received, than the doctrines of those philosophers differed from the prejudices of the multitude, in an age when every one believed the earth to be as flat as a table; and, consequently, it is but a small innovation in comparison to what the theory of Pythagoras and Copernicus must have appeared to be in their day; yet Captain Symmes has been constantly, and almost every where, represented as a visionary and dangerous innovator, and his alleged discovery ridiculed as the silly dream of a deranged imagination.

But let us not turn our backs and give a deaf ear to him, or to the discoveries of any other man, merely because they are new, and in contravention of our previously received impressions. True it is, novelty is frequently dangerous and hurtful: but on the other hand, it is often necessary and useful. Without it we should still remain destitute of many of the greatest advantages we enjoy. Without the advancement of new principles, and speculative ideas, neither ourselves, nor any other people, could ever have emerged from a state of savage barbarity. Without it, what purpose could our reason serve, which, under proper regulations, and by a gradual progress, is capable of contributing so largely to the general good of society?

Were it my opinion that Symmes's Theory is one of the wildest and most ridiculous that ever entered into the brain of man, I would not refuse to hear him; nor by malevolent or satirical disapprobation, attempt to discourage him, before I had examined and reflected upon it. By the examination of many speculative subjects, abounding with falsehood, we are frequently enabled to treasure up some truths. Some of the first and most important discoveries in chemistry, owe their origin to the midnight vigils of the alchymists, who vainly sought for the philosopher's stone: and many valuable combinations in the science of mechanics have been discovered by those who wasted years in as vain a pursuit, after a perpetual motion.

I believe there are but few theories, which do not contain much that is profitable. The man who has the ingenuity to advance new ones, will be likely, in the course of reasoning necessary to support them, to say something that is useful to be known. In his very reveries and wanderings, he will often point out land-marks, which may be useful to the future traveller. Whether then is it better to crouch under the tyranny of prejudice, or employ our thoughts and reasoning powers in the search of truth, though at the risk of deceiving ourselves, as our predecessors have done? Had it not been for a prudent boldness in advancing and defending new doctrines, the human mind must have remained to this day, the sport of all the chimeras of the ancients.

The exact shape and formation of the earth are admitted not to be well understood. The laws of gravity, and the admeasurements which have been made in different places on the same meridian, have demonstrated to us, that the greatest mathematicians have mistaken its real figure. Various theories have at different times been published and refuted, and others substituted in their stead. Yet still a shade of darkness and mystery appears to hang over the subject; for many principles, attractions, and apparent variations from the established laws believed to exist in the economy of nature, have been discovered, particularly in the polar regions, which remain unexplained and unaccounted for. Let us, therefore, examine and investigate any theory which proposes to explain them. Let us not be so tenacious of our own opinions, and hereditary prejudices, as to stop at the very point where every thing invites us to proceed. Let us rather push our researches after knowledge to the utmost, and exercise our reason, and every means in our power that may tend to the advancement of science and knowledge. In the pursuit, let us not be retarded by the cry of prejudice, or the sarcastic whispers of the narrow minded, and selfish.

Let us, therefore give Captain Symmes a "gentle meeting," and a candid hearing, in the following short chapters; ascertain what his theory is, and on what principles he supports it; and then adopt or reject it, as our reason may dictate.