MISCELLANEOUS.

Waikato Times, Volume VII, Issue 333, 2 July 1874, Page 2

MISCELLANEOUS.

Origin of Coal— Coal, according to the modern hypotbesu, it merely a transmuted vegetable soil which accumulated, not under water, but under the tree* composing primeval forests. These forests stood on areas which were subjected to repeated changes of level in relation to that of , the ocean. It mutt be understood that though the ground beneath us is popularly regarded as the type of everything steady and immovable, this earth of ours is far from deserving the character for stability with "which it is thus fondly credited ; absolute rest is all but unVuown to it- It happens

that even at the present it ay there are certain regions, such us those subject to volcanoa disturbances, whose tendencies are always to mote npwai ds, like the more aspiring of our youths, while there are Others, such as the coral regions, which are iteadily linking, like those lets fortunate youths who have failed iv the to;, age of life. So it was in the olden time. The coal beds appear 'to hare aeoumulatpd on the latter class of areas— ar« us'fcf depression— geographical regions in which the earth, h*ad « tendency to«ink below the lerel of the ocean. Mud and silt had collected upoV tush areas until tht depqsil* tbius formed reached tbo surface-levr 1 of the water; and then came what 'appears to hare born necessary to the growth of the co.vl plants, namefy, a bed of peculiar grej mud. We do not know why that mud came there, or whence it wai derived. That it «as very different from the ordinary deposits, the sandstones and shales, which accumulated in the carboniferous ocean, is shown by the physical properties which it still possesses, and which they do not posses*- properties which fit it for the purpose to which it is now deroted, of being manufactured into fire bricks, whence its common name of fire clay. That this grey mud was the soil preferred by the great majority of the plants constituting the carboniterous forests is as obrious as that the oakwoods of Herefordshire and the sunny south will not flourish upon the cold soils of the Lancashire uplands. Minute spores, representing ,the seeds of tbii plant i which afterwards became coal, were floated to this mud by wind and water ; and finding there a suitable soil, t,bey germinated, struck rooot, find soon converted the swa mpy area into & magnificent forest. As the trees grew Uiey shod successive showers of tbeir microscopic) spores, « hich ofter fell in such vast quantities as to constitute an importan contribution to the accumulating vegetable soil ; but alor ig with them there fell other and more bulky obj sets, such as might be expected to accumulate under a pmi-tropi cal forest. The dead leaves, broken branches, ai id prostw ited stems, alike contributed a share to the decay ing vegetable mass. In the tropical regions of the present < lay such, accumulations become rapidly decomposed, and pass ay/ay in gaseous forms ; but such does not appear to have br en the case in the carboniferous age — at least not in t ,he sarao degree Ev»n in Lancashire, notwithstanding all the influences tending to diminish the bulk of the regetabl » mass — such as atmospheric decomposition — chemical cb ange* occurring during the later processes of mineralization, and the pressure of superimposed rocks prolonged througho it all subsequent ages, we have coal-seams sit and seven i sot in thiokness, whilst they occur in America, as for exan ;ple in the oolitio coalfield on the James Aiver, with the su rpriiing thickness of between thirty and forty feet. Such accumulations of vegetable soil ms thsse thicknesses qf sol id coal represent, almost exceed comprehension, and must indicate enormous periods of undisturbed forest life. But at length a change came over the sylVan scene ; the land t «nk — whether suddenly or slowly we have no means of saj ,-ing. The numbers of dead fishes found on the roofs and up- per portions of some coals seem to indicate a sudden rush of pure water over the land, followed by the quick destruction o if the fishes, poisoned by the bituminous vegetable mud in wlr ich they found themselves entangled. In other cases the ro< >f of clean blue shale, devoid of all appearance of either ai limal or vegetvble remains, and resting immediately upoi i a defined surface of pure coal, is suggestive of a slower s aomergence, allowing time for the detraction and obliter »tion of all traces of Sowing vegetation upon its su rfs.cc. — MacMilian't agaxxne. NiwsrAPß» Editors. — The first and prime requisite in an editor is political intelligence. This is distinot from political information. It bears the f stme relation to politics as artistic perception does to art, wi tick is very different, I need not say, from acquaintance wit a the history of painting, its technicalities and cant. Pol tical intelligence is that faoulty which enable? a man to s fc events and policies in juit relative importance to the tit acs in which hs> lives, to feel with accuracy the popular pub «, to know what is practicable and what not, to nicely ap praise the effect that will be produced by any given step, »nd even by the tone in which it is discussed ; it is antit' <etic alike of the small intelligence of sharp men who judg e every question with offhand dogmatism, from the standp< >mt of a narrow experience and defective sympathy, and of the wild hasta with which sttrong minds, wanting in penetr rting insight, mistake transitory phenomena for manife stations of enduring force. Even genius, as wm seen in tl 10 case of Dickens aud the Daily Newt, will nofc make nj , for the want of this strong, •obering gift ; and where men of great reputation in literature and as political thinkers li are taken the editorship of a paper, tt has been proved, b r lamentable failure, how impossible it is to disp« nso with this rare faculty. Discomfiture and loss have fallowed s » unerringly and speedily the appointment of specililists to edit newspapers, that it has passed into a common. place th at to choose a man who should resort for inspiration not to those great practical questions in which the foundations of States are laid, but to doctrinaire dreamings of (lilettani .ism, is to foredoom the journalistic venture befom it is t» >m. Of course it follows that, in order to preserve journalii itic individuality, the editor, so far as the conduct of the pa] )cr is concerned, must sink his own. Nothing is more dang erous to newspaper success than to allow small personal past dons to interfere with its man1 agement. Notwithstanding what has been said about the importance of the editorial columns, a newspaper is above «v«rything else a newspaper . All the news of the past 24 hours should be found with jn its pages. To lag behind, to •How .oneself to beanticipat ad. is fatal ; and to exclude news on tho ground of pri rate pi' quo, or permit private friendship to flood the columns with n latter of doubtful interest, and to the exclusion of news, i s equally suicidal. The publio «oon see whether a paper is making, without looking to the right hand or the left, foi • a mark held well in view, or whether it is subordinate t 0 the whims of an irrepressible egotiom — whether it is, in fact, an organ of opinion and news, or only a cage where some lively squirrel disports in the happy but delusive convii ition that the world has nothing to do but to contemplate »nc I admire his movementE. There never has been a journalists » success under any conditions which would test principles of management, but it will be found, on examining the steps by whioh large circulation and great influence have been r ittained, that personal passions have been kept aside, while th c policy of the paper has flown on strong and unreturning, in accordance with definite Tiews which may have bee n— from the point of view of political philosophy — wise or unwise, Uut which in immediate purpow and ultimate aim v rere unmistakable. — Canadian Monthly. Bismarck. — Prince Bismai vk is at this moment the most mighty Minister in Europe. IHO rules with almost absolute power. It is his mind and. hi • will which is moulding the character and the destiny of the German empire. In one •ense, he is the greatest man • »f the day, if we limit greatness to immense resolution, bound less resources, an iron will, a bard heart, and a cool judgnv int. Certainly his determination of character, his tenaci by of purpose, his unbending pride, are qualities that mv: iriably raise a man above his fellows. Tto world at large regard him as very wise and as very sa^Hjous. The Times almost justifies his cruel deeds •gainst the jptholic bishops and religious, on the ground that they milt be right becau so so wise a prince regards them as' expedient. We have no w fish to run him down. Bitter enemy as he is to all that we believe to be good and holy, it would be-too poor a revengf f to deny him those qualities which the world in general 1 «cognises as singularly distinguishing him.- He ha* man} ' characteristics of a great and a wis« man. He appears to se » far before him, and to lay his plans with touch coolness an* I forethought. His calculations ar« almost mathematical, an id he deals with nations and peoples, and churches, as a > skilful player moves and distributes the chessmen on his board. Yet after all a elevar man may make mistak es. And he must be a far-see-ing man who will undertake Ito declare unhesitatingly that Prince Bismarck has not com traitted two of the gravest mistakes into which a statesman '■with so much pretension to sagacity could be betrayed. ] fits first mistake is his attitude towards the French nation. It has hitherto been an axiom in politics that yon ought to regard the actual enemy of to- -■■ day as the actual friend of to -morrow. Implacable hostility m not the polioy of any civ Sized state. Even in ordinary life a man gains much and lo ies nothing by being generous in the hour of triumph, and impires have' more to gain and 1 more to lose than individuals u Yet this is a consideration whioh does not seem to have occurred to the supposed far' seeing sagaoity of the Prusiii m Prime Minister: He sees the present moment. He does nr tt see the future, or the possible future. His enemy is dowi 1, and in all history there has "beefl no example of less q enerosity, or less magnanimity towards a fallen foe. He is • down. Keep him down. Load him with most heavy retribu {t ions. Give him no ease. Exact from him the forfeiture 1)f his dearly-prized provinces. Occupy his fortresses. Demai jd an indemnity, such as never before was Mked'by a conquf r >r. Teach civilized nations a new system of warfare— conq juest, confiscation, plunder, and booty— the lust of power and the greed ol gain. Make your victim feel thnt he has nothi ng to obtain from your mercy, or nobleness of mind, or you) • senso of fairness. Exasperate him and drive him to desps.u\ In his madness he may rise against his tormentor, when common drudence would tell him that he has no possible chanco. Then you can wreak jour vengeance to the very full, and like bullies and cowards, strike while your enemy is. down. This is the system of warfare inaugurated by the Prussian Mmitter. It is a return to savage times. It is redolunt of the Huns and Goths, and it almost makes one forget that there h»» b«en »uch a religion as Christianity. In another point of view, it reminds us of those cold, selfish, inhuman money-lenders, who experience a brutal pleasure in lending to some poor needy wretch, the more sure they feel that his loecossities being so great, thoy will be able to get him more completely into their power, so that they may at their convenience wring from him the uttermost fartning. Was Shakes) searo a prophet? Had he tho gift of seeing into futurity ? — Tits Month. The Scientific American, in a report of a recent lecture of Mr Proctor on the sun, gives striking illustrations to impart an idea of the immense distance between us and our great luminary. One v of these supposes an infant with an arm of, the inconvenient length of 01,000,000 miles, who should stretch forth his hand aud .touch the sun. Naturally he would bar* bis ijnger burnt ; but so slow is the transmission

of feel' jig, ho would hate to wait until he v»a« 135 ye»« old be.ore h» could be conscious of the fact.' In thi« estimate Mr Proct ,or » jridently adopts the rate of nerye motion obtained some , t\f enty years ago by the ob«ervations of Dr Hinch, that is, about 111 feet n second. Th» latter and more elabor ita. ' researches of Dr Schleike show a rapidity of conduotio- i bj the icniory nerret of about 97. feet a second, which we ild require our iun-burnt infant to wait some yeara longer beJ bn' ducoTering h» inducrttion If ho trutted hit light ifi llj# matter he might become aworo of the danger of vi« di itan t member in the short space of eight mmute», »o much in ore rapid it the speed of light than the raoTement of tetYmg al Jonf the nerves. The paisage of volition along th* motor n erv< -8 appears, says the Medical Press and Circular, to be s till ■ slower ; to that upwards of a century and a half, per. i iapi , might elapse before the mental order to withdraw the 'angi jr could be carried out.