The Geologist, which this day makes its appearance as the popular organ of a Science which has of late years advanced with gigantic strides, and which is daily attracting an increasing share of attention from all classes of society, enters upon an unoccupied field. Its object is to supply a deficiency in scientific periodical literature. We say this in spite of the sneer which has often been uttered to the effect that no new periodical was ever issued which did not profess “to supply a long felt want.” Of course new periodicals profess “to supply a want;” they are got up for that purpose; should those who bring them out think they are not “wanted,” it would be sheer folly to produce them. With regard to The Geologist, there is abundant evidence that such a periodical is needed; evidence which rests not on our own judgment alone, but on the concurrent testimony of many eminently able and practical men, who have expressed their gratification at the announcement of a magazine, based upon the plan we have projected. We therefore venture to launch our first number with the full conviction that we are about to supply a work which will prove to be in a high degree useful.

In entering upon this undertaking, we desire to enlist the sympathy and aid of all lovers of Geology.

In a magazine devoted especially to the propagation of Geological knowledge, it seems no infringement of its space, no deterioration of its value, tha t some pains should be taken to aid the student in his early efforts, and to disperse broadcast some useful elementary information, which may prove to the mass at once a source of instruction and of enjoyment, and so, by clearing the road to future and higher studies, may foster a dawning taste, and ultimately prove the means of adding many volunteers, and not unlikely even some brilliant master-minds to the ranks of Geologists, that otherwise, deterred at the outset, might perhaps have turned their attention and talents to some more accessible, if not more congenial study.

Who does not feel some interest in the past history of this beautiful world—the scene of our labours and of our loves—of our successes and of our failures—the stage of our existence and the tomb of our dust ? If the animated creations of the past were dumb brute animals, still the earth was green and gay with trees, and plants and flowers—the hu m of insects vibrated on the summer's air, and the snows of winter covered the ancient lands with their hyemal mantle—the tides of ocean rose and fell, and the world went rolling on through time and space, through years and seasons. There were earthquakes the n and blazing volcanos—and winds and storms—great waves and merry dancing ripples on the sea.