ps by calling one
stratified and the other unstratified, or one "coherent" and the other
"crystalline," or one "lateral" and the other "central." But as this
last distinction in position seems to have more influence on their forms
than either of the others, it is, perhaps, best, when we are examining
them in connection with art, that this should be thoroughly kept in
mind; and therefore we will consider the first group under the title of
"lateral ranges," and the second under that of "central peaks."

[Illustration: FIG. 8.]

Sec. 10. The LATERAL RANGES, which we are first to examine, are, for the
most part, broad tabular masses of sandstone, limestone, or whatever
their material may be,--tilted slightly up over large spaces (several or
many miles square), and forming precipices with their exposed edges, as
a book resting obliquely on another book forms miniature precipices with
its back and sides. The book is a tolerably accurate representation of
the mountain in substance, as well as in external aspect; nearly all
these tabular masses of rock being composed of a multitude of thinner
beds or layers, as the thickness of the book is made up of its leaves;
while every one of the mountain leaves is usually written over, though
in dim characters, like those of a faded manuscript, with history of
departed ages.

"How were these mountain volumes raised, and how are they supported?"
are the natural questions following such a statement.

And the only answer is: "Behold the cloud."

No eye has ever seen one of these raised on a large scale; no
investigation has brought completely to light the conditions under which
the materials which support them were prepared. This only is the simple
fact, that they _are_ raised into such sloping positions; generally
several resting one upon another, like a row of books fallen down (Fig.
8); the last book being usually propped by a piece of formless compact
crystalline rock, represented by the piece of crumpled paper at _a_.

[Illustration: FIG. 9.]

Sec. 11. It is another simple fact that this arrangement is not effected in
an orderly and serene manner; but that the books, if they were ever
neatly bound, have been fearfully torn to pieces and dog's-eared in the
course of their elevation; sometimes torn leaf from leaf, but more
commonly rent across, as if the paper had been wet and soft: or, to
leave the book similitude, which is becoming inconvenient, the beds seem
to have been in the