chalk cliffs at Freshwater upright,
lifting the tertiary beds upon their northern slopes. You must ask-
-Was there not land to the south of the Isle of Wight in those ages,
and for ages after; and what was its extent and shape? You must
ask--When was the gap between the Isle of Wight and the Isle of
Purbeck sawn through, leaving the Needles as remnants on one side,
and Old Harry on the opposite? And was it sawn asunder merely by
the age-long gnawing of the waves? You must ask--Where did the
great river which ran from the west, where Poole Harbour is now, and
probably through what is now the Solent, depositing brackish water-
beds right and left--where, I say, did it run into the sea? Where
the Straits of Dover are now? Or, if not there, where? What, too,
is become of the land to the Westward, composed of ancient
metamorphic rocks, out of which it ran, and deposited on what are
now the Haggerstone Moors of Poole, vast beds of grit? What was the
climate on its banks when it washed down the delicate leaves of
broad-leaved trees, akin to our modern English ones, which are found
in the fine mud-sand strata of Bournemouth? When, finally, did it
dwindle down to the brook which now runs through Wareham town? Was
its bed, sea or dry land, or under an ice sheet, during the long
ages of the glacial epoch? And if you say--Who is sufficient for
these things?--Who can answer these questions? I answer--Who but
you, or your pupils after you, if you will but try?

And if any shall reply--And what use if I do try? What use, if I do
try? What use if I succeed in answering every question which you
have propounded to-night? Shall I be the happier for it? Shall I
be the wiser?

My friends, whether you will be the happier for it, or for any
knowledge of physical science, or for any other knowledge
whatsoever, I cannot tell: that lies in the decision of a Higher
Power than I; and, indeed, to speak honestly, I do not think that
bio-geology or any other branch of physical science is likely, at
first at least, to make you happy. Neither is the study of your
fellow-men. Neither is religion itself. We were not sent into the
world to be happy, but to be right; at least, poor creatures that we
are, as right as we can be; and we must be content with being right,
and not happy. For I fear, or rather I hope, that most of us are
not capable of carrying out Talleyrand's recipe for perfect
happiness on earth--namely, a hard heart an