That a little knowledge is a dangerous thing to the possessor, has been pointed out often enough, probably with the idea of keeping him quiet, but it is very certain that the warning has not always had the desired effect; and in some respects it is perhaps much better that it has not, for it is sometimes the case that a little knowledge exhibited on an inappropriate occasion, or even wrongly applied, throws light upon some subject that was previously not very well understood. It sometimes happens that unconscious error leads to the discovery of what is right. The fact is, all knowledge is at first little, so that if the first possessor of it is kept quiet there is little chance of its ever increasing. On the other hand, much knowledge seems to be quite as ready to become dangerous on occasion, for it has sometimes led its possessor to fall into errors that can be easily pointed out, even by the possessor of little, if it is combined with ordinary intelligence. The possessor of much knowledge is apt to forget, in his keen desire to acquire more, that he has not examined with sufficient care all the steps by which he has attained to what he has got, and that by placing reliance on one false step he has erected for himself a structure that cannot stand; or, what is worse perhaps, has prevented those who have followed him in implicit dependence on his attainments and fame from finding out the truth. If, then, both of these classes are liable to fall into error, there appears to be no good reason why one belonging to the first mentioned of them should absolutely refrain from making his ideas known, especially as he may thus induce someone of the second to re-examine the foundations on which he has built up his knowledge.

These reflections are in greater or lesser degree applicable to all knowledge and science of all kinds, even theological, in all their individual branches, and can be very easily shown to be both reasonable and true. And it may be added, or rather it is necessary to add, that every one of all the branches of all of them has a very manifest tendency towards despotism; to impose its sway and way of thinking upon the whole world.

At various intervals during the present century speculation has been indulged in, and more or less lively discussion has taken place about the great benefit it would confer on universal humanity, were all the weights and measures of the whole earth arranged on the same standard. The universal standard proposed has been, of course, the metrical system, which had been elaborated by French savants who most probably thought they had arrived at such a state of knowledge that they were able to establish the foundations of all science of all kinds and for all time, upon the most sure and most durable principles. These periods of metrical fever, so to speak, seem to come on without any apparent immediately exciting cause, and some people succumb to the disease, others do not, just the same as in the cases of cholera, influenza, plague, etc. Whether some species of inoculation for it may be discovered, or whether it will be found that an unlimited attack is really perfect health, will most probably be found out in the course of time, although it may be some centuries hence. What is of interest to understand at the present time is, what are the benefits to be derived from the proposed universal standard of weights and measures, and how they are to be attained.

The principal and most imposing reason for its adoption is that it would be of immense service to scientific men all over the world, who would thus be able to understand the discourses, writings, discoveries, etc. of each other without the necessity of having to enter into calculations of any kind in order to be able to comprehend the arithmetical part of what they have listened to or read. Another argument brought forward in favour is, that it would greatly facilitate commercial transactions with foreign countries; and it has been lately advanced that great loss is suffered by one country selling its goods, manufactured according to its own measures, in countries where the metrical system has been adopted. Yet another advantage held out is the convenience it would be to travellers in money matters; but as this argument cannot be admitted without taking into consideration the necessity for one universal language all over the world, it has practically no place in any discussion on the subject, until the evil caused by the building of the Tower of Babel has been remedied.

Not long after one of the periodical attacks of metric fever we came upon an essay written by J. J. Jeans on "England's Supremacy," and published in New York by Harper and Brothers, in 1886, in which we found the following:—

Numerical relation of occupations in England and Wales in 1881:

This statement shows that 43 per cent. of the whole population are occupied in some business or work of some kind, and leads us reasonably to suppose that the remaining 57 per cent. consist of women, children, and people who—to put it short—are non-producers; the whole of whom can hardly be considered as much interested in the making of any alterations in the weights and measures of their country, rather the contrary, for they cannot expect to be much benefited by any change.

The professional class naturally comprehends Theology, Law, Medicine, and Science generally, so that the 2·5 per cent. ascribed to it would be seriously reduced, if the advantage derived from the desired change were reckoned by the number really benefited by it. A similar reduction would have to be made on the 3·7 per cent. stated to be occupied in Commerce, as it is not to be supposed that the whole of the number are engaged in foreign trade. Thus the number of people in these two classes who might really reap some advantage from the change, may be reduced by at least one half; and if we consider that one person in ten of those occupied in the Agricultural and Industrial classes is a scientist—we may pardon the Domestic class—a very liberal allowance indeed, we arrive at the conclusion that 6 per cent. of the whole population might find, some more, some less, interest in the introduction into our country of the French metric system.

The above statement refers only to England and Wales, but if Scotland and Ireland are added to them, the 6 per cent. proportion could not be very greatly altered: perhaps it would be less favourable to the change. Thus 94 per cent., or something like 37 millions, of the whole population of the United Kingdom would be called upon to change their whole system of weights and measures, in order that 6 per cent., or somewhere between 2 and 2½ millions, should find some little alleviation in a part of their labours; and surely 2 to 2½ millions of scientists and merchants engaged in foreign trade is a very liberal allowance for the population of our country. If this does not show a tendency towards despotism, it would be hard to tell what it does show.

Of course, it would not be fair to assume that the whole of the 6 per cent. would desire to see the proposed change carried into effect. In all likelihood, a very considerable portion of the number would be disposed to count the cost of erecting such a structure before actually laying its foundations, and would refrain from beginning the work on considering by what means it was to be brought to a conclusion; even without going so far as to find out that 94 per cent. of it at least would have to be done by forced labour. They might even go the length of speculating on how long it would take to coerce the 94 per cent. into furnishing the forced labour, and on the hopelessness of the task. On the other hand, they might think it more natural to lay hold of the alternative of adopting a special system of weights and measures for the use of Science and Foreign Commerce alone, and leave the 94 per cent. to follow their own national and natural customs, which they would be very likely to do whatever might be determined, if we may judge by the progress made in France a century after the system was thought to be established. Very little opposition could be made to such a course, and if the best possible system were not adopted, the scientists would be the only parties put to inconvenience. They could improve and reform it, should they find it not to be perfect, without the necessity of coercing the 94 per cent. into furnishing another contingent of forced labour. But little is to be gained by saying any more about it. Should the metrical system be adopted some day by Act of Parliament, Science will have obtained what it has so long coveted, will be quite satisfied, and will trouble itself very little about how it affects the rest of the population. It will perhaps never even think of how India will be brought to buy and sell through the medium of the French Metrical System.

And now we have only one step to take on this subject. We may say that the project of establishing one standard of weights and measures for the whole world has a most unpleasant resemblance to the object proposed by the builders of the Tower of Babel; the only thing that can be said in its favour being that it points towards an endeavour to do away with the bad results produced by that enterprise and to bring matters back to the state the world was in before the foundations of that celebrated edifice were laid.

The foregoing is only one instance of the many that could be cited where science has schemed projects for universal progress without due thought, and has come to the conclusion that they could be easily carried out. There are as many examples of this jumping at conclusions as would fill many books, which of course it is not our purpose to do; but there is one that it is necessary to have brought forward for examination, because of its having, through a most incomprehensible want of thought, a tendency to establish Natural Religion on the very bases upon which the Christian Religion is established.

The one referred to is that by which some of the most eminent scientists of the present century, following up what was done in former times, have been able by deep study and experiment, unfortunately coupled with unaccountable blindness or preconceived erroneous ideas, to formulate processes by which the whole universe may have elaborated itself from protyle and protoplasm, or some such substances which, without any foundation to build upon, they suppose to have existed from all eternity. This advance in science has been called the Theory of Evolution, and has been very generally considered to be new, or of comparatively very recent conception; but it is only a piece of the evidence of a very general propensity in those who come to acquire a little more knowledge, to flatter themselves that they have power to seize hold of the Unknown.

The theory may be new, but evolution most assuredly is not, as any one may convince himself who will take the trouble to read the first chapter of the Book of Genesis and to think. There he will find it stated that the earth and all things in it and on it were created and made in six days, or periods of time, showing him distinctly, if he does not shut his eyes wilfully, that two operations were employed in the process, one of creation and the other of making, which last can mean nothing but evolution. It does not matter a straw whether the latter operation was carried on personally by the Creator and Maker, or under the power of laws ordained by Him for the purpose; it was evolution all the same, and just the kind of evolution the scientists above alluded to would have us believe to be new, not far from 3500 years after the account of the creation and making of the world was written by Moses.

It will do no harm to take special notice of the work that was done in each of the six periods, as it will help to fix attention on the subject during examination and judgment; and may even tend to open the eyes of any one who had made up his mind to keep them shut.

In the first period the heavens and the earth were created, but the earth was without form and void, inanis et vacuus, according to The Vulgate—(does that mean empty and hollow?)—and darkness was upon the face of the deep; but light was let shine upon the earth to alternate with darkness, and between the two to establish day and night. It is therefore evident that after the earth was created it had to be reduced to something like its present form, a globe of some kind, and to rotate on an axis, otherwise there could have been no alternations of light and darkness, of day and night. Where did the light come from? Some people seem to think that Moses should have included a treatise on the creation and evolution of the universe, in his account of the work done in the first period of creation. For all that can be truly said to the contrary, he seems to have been quite as able to do so as any scientist of the present day; but it is evident he thought it best to limit himself to writing only of the earth, as being of most interest to its inhabitants, and enough for them as a first lesson. The literature of science, however, of the present day, will tell them that long ages after the earth was evolved into a globe, it must have been in a molten, liquid state, surrounded by an atmosphere of vapours of some of the chemical elements so dense that no light from without could shine through it, and could only be penetrated by light after the cooling of the earth had dispelled a sufficient portion of that dense atmosphere. With this explanation, which they had at hand for the looking for, they might have been so far satisfied, and have left Moses to tell his story in his own way.

In passing, it may not be out of place to say that, after the cooling of the earth had proceeded so far that the vapours of matter had been condensed and precipitated on its surface, all boiling of water whether in the seas or on its surface must soon have ceased, so that no inconceivably enormous volumes of steam could be thrown upwards to maintain an atmosphere impenetrable to light; and that when dense volumes of steam ceased to be thrown up, the condensation of what was already in the atmosphere would be so rapid, and its density so soon reduced sufficiently to admit of the passage of light through it, that one can almost fancy himself present on the occasion and appreciate the sublimity of the language. "And God said, Let there be light, and there was light"; more especially if he had ever stood by the side of the cylinder of a large steam engine, and understood what he heard when the steam rushed from it into the condenser, and noted how instantaneous it seemed to be. Any one who has watched a pot of water boiling on the fire and emitting clouds of steam, will have noticed how immediately the boiling ceased whenever the pot was removed from the fire; but he will also have noticed that the water still continued to emit a considerable quantity of vapour, and will be able to understand how it was that the cloudy atmosphere of the earth, at the time we are dealing with, could allow light to pass through it but still keep the source of light from being visible. He experiences daily how thin a cloud will hide the sun from his sight. But there is more to be said about this when the time comes for taking note of the actual appearance on the scene of the sun, moon, and stars.

To obtain some rude idea of the time to be disposed of for evolution during the first period, let it be supposed that the whole of the time consumed in the creation and development of the earth was 300 million years, as demanded by some geologists, the first period of the six would naturally be somewhere about 50 millions of years, a period which would allow, probably, very liberal time for evolution, but could never have been consumed in creation, seeing that creation has always been looked upon as an almost instantaneous act. And if anyone is still capable of exacting that the period was a day of twenty-four hours, he has to acknowledge that at least twenty-three of them were dedicated to the work of evolution.

The second period was evidently one solely of evolution, as all that was done during it was confined to making the firmament which divides the waters from the waters; an operation which could never be confounded with creation, being probably brought about solely by the cooling of the earth, which was the only means by which a separation between the waters covering the earth, and those held in suspension above it by the atmosphere, could be brought about, and must have been purely the work of evolution.

The third period was begun by collecting the waters under the firmament into one place and letting the dry land appear; which, it may be well to note, gives it to be understood that the surface of the solid part of the earth had come to be uneven either by the elevation or depression, perhaps both, of some parts of it, and next the earth was let bring forth grass and trees, and in general vegetation of all kinds. These cannot be considered otherwise than as operations of evolution: there was no creation going on beyond what may have been necessary to help evolution, and of that not a word is said. Here it is well to notice that until the waters were gathered together into one place and the dry land appeared there could be no alluvial deposits made in the sea, and that till well on into this third period, that is well on for 150 million years from the beginning, there could be no geological strata deposited in it containing vegetable matter, for the very good reason that although rains and rivers may have swept earthy matter into the sea, the rivers could not carry along in their flow any vegetable matter until it had time to grow.

Should evolutionists think they have discovered something new in spontaneous generation, we refer them to the 11th verse of the chapter, where they will see—"And God said, Let the earth bring forth grass, the herb yielding seed, and the fruit-tree yielding fruit after his kind, whose seed is in itself, upon the earth." The conclusion of this passage asserts plainly that the seed was already in the earth, somehow or other, ready to germinate and sprout when the necessary accompanying conditions were prepared. The words are very few, and they can have no other meaning.

In the first period "God made two great lights: the greater light to rule the day and the lesser light to rule the night; he made the stars also." This passage has been "a stumbling block and rock of offence" to some people possessed of much knowledge and to some possessed of little; the one party professing to disbelieve all because the sun was made four days after there was light, and the other party, supposing that there might have been light proceeding from some other source during the first four days. Both parties seem to have forgotten that the earth was created without form and void, and that being so the same would naturally be the case with the sun and the moon; all of them had to be made into form after their creation. By what means? By evolution, of course, or whatever else anyone chooses to call it; that will make no difference.

As far as it can penetrate into the mysteries of creation, Physical Astronomy has endeavoured to show how the solar system may have been formed out of a mass of nebulous matter. Furthermore, as has already been adduced in evidence, that at one time the earth must have been a molten, liquid globe surrounded by vapours of metals, metalloids, gases, and finally by water; and even goes the length of supposing that the planets were evolved to something approaching their present state, long before the sun attained its present form. Following up this hypothesis, it is more than probable that the sun had not attained that form when this fourth period began, and, although capable of emitting light early in the first period, still required a vast amount of evolution to reduce it to the brilliant globe now seen in the heavens. Everybody knows that plants grow without sunshine, and it is generally believed that the primary forests of the earth grew most rapidly in a moist, stifling atmosphere, which neither admitted of animal life, nor could be penetrated by sunshine. Thus Physical Astronomy cannot say that the sun could not have been made into its present state until near the end of this fourth period. It may have been as bright as it is now, though very probably not, as we shall see in due time; but it could not shine upon the earth, neither could the earth, nor anything thereon, see it. It is not necessary to say anything about the moon, as it only reflects sunlight, and the reflection could not reach the earth if the light could not.

In the fifth period the waters were let "bring forth the moving creature that hath life, and fowl that may fly above the earth in the open firmament of heaven." Here again spontaneous generation may have been provided for beforehand, the same as in the case of vegetation. Also it is said "God created great whales," and it is to be observed that this is only the second time that creation has been mentioned in the book, and would seem to teach that making, or evolution, was the most active agent at work in the construction of the earth—and, we may add, of the universe.

The sixth period was one almost exclusively of evolution, unless it should be considered that spontaneous generation is a different, and newly discovered process. In it God made the beast of the earth, cattle, and everything that creepeth upon the earth, after his kind. Last of all: "God said, let us make man in our image, after our likeness." Thus it appears that the only work of creation done in this period was that of creating man, and even that after some length of time and work had been expended in making or evolution, which may have extended over a very considerable portion of the fifty millions of years corresponding to it.

We have supposed the work of creation to have extended over three hundred million years to satisfy some geologists, but our arguments would not be affected in any way by the time being reduced to the limit given by Lord Kelvin to the heat-giving power of the sun in the past, which he has made out to be between fifteen and twenty million years. That would only limit our periods of evolution to two and a half or three million years each; each of them quite long enough to be totally inconsistent with our ideas of creation, which conceive of this as an instantaneous act. But although Lord Kelvin has in rather strong terms placed this limit, he at the same time says that it could by no means exceed four hundred million years, which is one-third more than we have calculated upon. Neither can our arguments be affected in any serious way by our dividing the periods into fifty million years each; these may have varied much in length, but whatever was taken from one would have to be added to the others.

Furthermore, we may be allowed to say that fifteen to twenty millions of years of the sun's heat at the rate it is now being expended, can be no reliable measure of the time required for the operations of geology, for the reason that its heat must have been emitted in proportion to the quantity it possessed at any time. When it was created without form and void as no doubt it was, the same as the earth, it would have no heat to emit, but that does not mean that it possessed no heat until it was formed into the brilliant globe that we cannot now bear to turn our eyes upon. Even when it became hot enough to show light sufficient to penetrate the "darkness that was upon the face of the deep," it may still have been an almost shapeless mass, and have continued more or less so until it was formed into the body of the fourth period, which may even then have been very different from what it is now. Thus geology would have not far from one hundred and fifty million years in which a very small fractional part of the sun's emission of heat would suffice for its operations. But we shall have more to say on this subject when the time comes.

It being, therefore, a matter beyond all question—to people possessed of the faculty of thinking, and of candour to confess that they cannot help seeing what has been set plainly before their sight and understanding—that the opening chapter of the book of Genesis plainly teaches that making—evolution—had a very large and active part to perform in the creation of the universe and—much more within our grasp—of the earth; we can come to the conclusion that the theory of evolution, instead of being new and wonderful, comes to be almost infinitely older than the everlasting hills, without losing any of its power of inspiring inexpressible wonder.

Looking back over the examination into the first chapter of the book of Genesis we have just concluded, we cannot conceive how it could ever have entered into the thoughts of man, that the state of vegetable and animal life on the earth, at the present day, must have been brought about by continual and unceasing acts of creation, when creation has been mentioned only on three occasions during the whole process described in the chapter we have analysed, that is, 3 out of 31 verses; and while the other processes which we have brought forward—making and spontaneous generation—have never been alluded to, perhaps not even thought of.

We have no desire, neither are we qualified, to follow up this subject any further, but we have still one or two things to bring into remembrance.

One of the most illustrious of the founders of the Theory of Evolution has based his dissertations on the Descent of Man, on the Variation of Animals and Plants under Domestication, and on their wonderful plasticity under the care of man. Here there is an explicit acknowledgment of the necessity for the direction of an intelligent guiding power to produce such variations; these never having any useful or progressive results except under such care. If, then, there is a necessity of such directing and guiding power in the case of variations of such inferior importance, the superintendence of some similar power must have assuredly been much more necessary for the creation and evolution of matter, of life, and of man himself. This is what, one would think, common sense and reason would point, and what the Theory of Evolution seems to think—evidently without studying the subject far enough; but all that it has been able to do has been to substitute Nature for the Creator to whom Moses has ascribed not only Creation but the Making—Evolution—of the universe.

This naturally leads us to speculate on what Evolutionists consider Nature to be, and as none of them—nor anyone else—as far as we know, has ever thought it necessary to define Nature, we have to endeavour to draw from their writings what, in some measure and some way, they would like us to believe it to be. We find, then, that the base of their operations seems to be Natural Selection, which can hardly be interpreted in any other way than by calling it the Selection of Nature. Thus, then, they apparently want us to look upon Nature as the First Cause. But, if Nature can select, it must be a being, an entity, a something, that can distinguish one particle of matter from another, and be able to choose such pieces of it, be they protyle or protoplasm, and to make them unite, so as to form some special body, organic or inorganic. It is plain, also, that Selection can only be performed by such a being, or something, such as just so far described, that can distinguish, choose, and arrange the particles of matter destined to form the very smallest body or the universe. Thus we see that in whatever way the basis of the Theory of Evolution is looked upon—even for its own evolution—there is required a being of some kind that has knowledge and power to evolve or make all things that are "in heaven above, or in the earth beneath, or in the waters under the earth." So we see that, if the theory of evolution dethrones the Creator and Evolver of the first chapter of Genesis, it has to enthrone another god which it calls Nature; and has to get rid of that god, and any number of others, before it can be what it pretends to be.

We are all very voluble in talking of Nature, and enthusiastic in admiring its beauties, wonders, and wisdom, but it seldom occurs to us that we are really doing so without thinking of whence come the beauty, wonders, and wisdom. We must, therefore, not be too hard on evolutionists, as they have only done what we all do every day of our lives; but if the theory of evolution is to be looked upon as a branch of science, we would recommend its students to open their eyes and think of it as a process which has been in existence from the beginning of things at least, and not as one of their invention or discovery. They may be able some day, through more accurate study and more convincing argumentation than they generally use, to lay claim to having discovered, as far as it is possible for man to do, the modus operandi of evolution, but that is all, and we would also warn some of them to think that, when we see them in their highest flights of science, genius, and self-sufficiency, we can

"Conceive the bard the hero of the story."

We have read a good deal of what has been called the War of Science, without having been able to see that there ever was any cause for such a war, with the exception of ignorance.

If Theology had been able, or rather had taken the trouble, to study thoroughly the first chapter of Genesis, and thus to comprehend that, if the earth was created without form and void, a great deal of work had to be done, after creation, in forming it into its present condition, there was no call upon it to find fault with Copernicus or persecute Galileus, because they said the earth revolved round the sun; more especially as they do not appear to have ever said anything against religion or revelation. Neither was there any necessity for opposing the so-called new science of evolution, because it (Theology) ought to have seen that the work expended in reducing the earth into form could hardly be conceived of otherwise than as a process of evolution; and would thus have been in a position to tell the authors of the new science that they had only discovered what had existed before the beginning of time.

On the other hand, there was no occasion for Science to take up the war. If it, in its turn, had taken the trouble to study and understand the first chapter of Genesis, it could have shown Theology that it did not comprehend, and could not give a true account of what religion and revelation are; whereas it (Science) seems to have had a strong tendency to demonstrate that religion and revelation are altogether false, and that the great work it has to perform is to dethrone Theology, and set itself up it in its stead.

It is not worth while even to think of who or which was the aggressor, seeing that the war originated from ignorance caused by want of thought and study on both sides. All that has to be said on the subject reduces itself to the fact that both Religion and Science have been coming, and are at present going, through the process of evolution. Can anyone say that Science has been truly scientific, without ever incurring in error, from the beginning of history up to the present day? Will any one venture to maintain that there has been no evolution, no progress, no softening of the spirit of Religion, from the institution of Christianity up to the end of the nineteenth century? If such there be, let the one look back to the time of Aristotle, and the other to the establishment of the Church under Constantine.

There has been for long an opinion, which goes on increasing in strength, that Science will ultimately reform Theology and put Religion in its right place; but if such is to be the case, Science has to begin by reforming itself and putting an end to error it has been, in many cases, teaching for generations; and by ceasing to formulate new theories, or bases of progress, which can be in many cases exploded by suppressing some of the error just alluded to. Little advance is made in science by forming hypotheses and theories, however brilliant they may appear, unless they are carefully studied and thought out to the very uttermost; because, if published abroad on the authority of some celebrated or even well-known name, they have a tendency to stop further investigation, and prevent students from exercising their own judgment and perhaps discovering what they might possibly find out were they to study them to the very end for their own satisfaction. This is in some measure the case even with respect to the solar system. We believe it can be shown that a more complete knowledge and comprehension of it, and even of the universe, has been kept back by the unquestioning acceptation by successive astronomers of the ideas and conceptions of their predecessors.

We have to acknowledge, at the same time, that Astronomy could not start into perfection at once, any more than any other science, and it is not to be wondered at that in times past ideas relating to it should have been formed without being properly thought out; even ideas that could not be properly thought out to the end for want of the requisite knowledge. But it is much to be regretted that such ideas should continue to be published at the present day as trustworthy instruction for readers who may look upon it as strictly correct. Among those who read text-books even on Astronomy, there must be a very considerable number who are rather surprised when they see statements made which do not agree with what they were taught at school, or with what they have practised in other sciences in their own professions or trades. It may be said that any person of ordinary intelligence will easily be able to correct such errors, but the evil does not stop here. If he can really correct them he will most probably find as well, that his instructors have been led into more serious errors, perhaps in more important matters, founded on the ideas which they had not fully studied out before giving them a place in their books. He may also find sometimes, in his reading, such ideas brought forward to substantiate some theory, just as far as they are required and then dropped, while a step or two further forward in the examination of these same ideas, would have exploded the theory altogether; because, although founded to a certain extent on one law of nature, they are in contradiction with what is laid down in some other law.

The above will be looked upon as an unwarrantably bold assertion; but a careful study of, or attention to, what is taught in the most advanced works on the solar system, even in science generally, will show it to be perfectly true. It is not only true, but the consequences of its being true have been much more serious than will be readily believed. In our own endeavours to understand what we had been reading, we have seen that some of the notions presented to us were only half formed, and that they have led to theories being founded which could never have been entertained at all had they been thoroughly studied out. More than that, they have prevented the truth from being arrived at in the fundamental conceptions of the construction of the earth, and, as a natural consequence, of the whole solar system, perhaps even of the whole universe.

There are probably many, even a great many, people who have arrived at the same conclusions as we have, but as far as it has been in our power to search into the matter, we have met with no attempt from any quarter to put an end to this defect in the literature of science; perhaps because the work has the appearance of being too great to be readily undertaken, and also because it may be thought that there is little to be gained by it—as all is sure to be set right through time. But, as we believe that it will be beneficial immediately, in the case of the earth and solar system at least, we shall first attempt to show what are some of the defects alluded to, and then what knowledge may be acquired through their removal.