In every province of human knowledge where we now possess a careful and coherent interpretation of nature, men began by attempting in bold flights to leap from obvious facts to the highest point of generality—to some wide and simple principle which after-ages had to reject. Thus, from the facts that all bodies are hot or cold, moist or dry, they leapt at once to the doctrine that the world is constituted of four elements—earth, air, fire, water; from the fact that the heavenly bodies circle the sky in courses which occur again and again, they at once asserted that they move in exact circles, with an exactly uniform motion; from the fact that heavy bodies fall through the air somewhat faster than light ones, it was assumed that all bodies fall quickly or slowly exactly in proportion to their weight; from the fact that the magnet attracts iron, and that this force of attraction is capable of increase, it was inferred that a perfect magnet would have an irresistible force of attraction, and that the magnetic pole of the earth would draw the nails out of a ship’s bottom which came near it; from the fact that some of the finest quartz crystals are found among the snows of the Alps, it was inferred that the crystallisation of gems is the result of intense and long-continued cold: and so on in innumerable instances. Such anticipations as these constituted the basis of almost all the science of the ancient world; for such principles being so assumed, consequences were drawn from them with great ingenuity, and systems of such deductions stood in the place of science.—Edinburgh Review, No. 216.
The earliest science of a decidedly English school is due, for the most part, to the University of Oxford, and specially to Merton College,—a foundation of which Wood remarks, thatthere was no other for two centuries, either in Oxford or Paris, which could at all come near it in the cultivation of the sciences. But he goes on to say that large chests full of the writers of this college were allowed to remain untouched by their successors for fear of the magic which was supposed to be contained in them. Nevertheless, it is not difficult to trace the liberalising effect of scientific study upon the University in general, and Merton College in particular; and it must be remembered that to the cultivation of the mind at Oxford we owe almost all the literary celebrity of the middle ages. In this period the University of Cambridge appears to have acquired no scientific distinction. Taking as a test the acquisition of celebrity on the continent, we find that Bacon, Sacrobosco, Greathead, Estwood, &c. were all of Oxford. The latter University had its morning of splendour while Cambridge was comparatively unknown; it had also its noonday, illustrated by such men as Briggs, Wren, Wallis, Halley, and Bradley.
The age of science at Cambridge may be said to have begun with Francis Bacon; and but that we think much of the difference between him and his celebrated namesake lies more in time and circumstances than in talents or feelings, we would rather date from 1600 with the former than from 1250 with the latter. Praise or blame on either side is out of the question, seeing that the earlier foundation of Oxford, and its superiority in pecuniary means, rendered all that took place highly probable; and we are in a great measure indebted for the liberty of writing our thoughts, to the cultivation of the liberalising sciences at Oxford in the dark ages.
With regard to the University of Cambridge, for a long time there hardly existed the materials of any proper instruction, even to the extent of pointing out what books should be read by a student desirous of cultivating astronomy.
Plato, like Francis Bacon, took a review of the sciences of his time: he enumerates arithmetic and plane geometry, treated as collections of abstract and permanent truths; solid geometry, which he “notes as deficient” in his time, although in fact he and his school were in possession of the doctrine of the “five regular solids;” astronomy, in which he demands a science which should be elevated above the mere knowledge of phenomena. The visible appearances of the heavens only suggest the problems with which true astronomy deals; as beautiful geometrical diagrams do not prove, but only suggest geometrical propositions. Finally, Plato notices the subject of harmonics, in which he requires a science which shall deal with truths more exact than the ear can establish, as in astronomy he requires truths more exact than the eye can assure us of.In a subsequent paper Plato speaks ofDialecticas a still higherelement of a philosophical education, fitted to lead men to the knowledge of real existences and of the supreme good. Here he describes dialectic by its objects and purpose. In other places dialectic is spoken of as a method or process of analysis; as in thePhædrus, where Socrates describes a good dialectician as one who can divide a subject according to its natural members, and not miss the joint, like a bad carver. Xenophon says that Socrates deriveddialecticfrom a term implying todivide a subject into parts, which Mr. Grote thinks unsatisfactory as an etymology, but which has indicated a practical connection in the Socratic school. The result seems to be that Plato did not establish any method of analysis of a subject as his dialectic; but he conceived that the analytical habits formed by the comprehensive study of the exact sciences, and sharpened by the practice of dialogue, would lead his students to the knowledge of first principles.—Dr. Whewell.
Plato, like Francis Bacon, took a review of the sciences of his time: he enumerates arithmetic and plane geometry, treated as collections of abstract and permanent truths; solid geometry, which he “notes as deficient” in his time, although in fact he and his school were in possession of the doctrine of the “five regular solids;” astronomy, in which he demands a science which should be elevated above the mere knowledge of phenomena. The visible appearances of the heavens only suggest the problems with which true astronomy deals; as beautiful geometrical diagrams do not prove, but only suggest geometrical propositions. Finally, Plato notices the subject of harmonics, in which he requires a science which shall deal with truths more exact than the ear can establish, as in astronomy he requires truths more exact than the eye can assure us of.
In a subsequent paper Plato speaks ofDialecticas a still higherelement of a philosophical education, fitted to lead men to the knowledge of real existences and of the supreme good. Here he describes dialectic by its objects and purpose. In other places dialectic is spoken of as a method or process of analysis; as in thePhædrus, where Socrates describes a good dialectician as one who can divide a subject according to its natural members, and not miss the joint, like a bad carver. Xenophon says that Socrates deriveddialecticfrom a term implying todivide a subject into parts, which Mr. Grote thinks unsatisfactory as an etymology, but which has indicated a practical connection in the Socratic school. The result seems to be that Plato did not establish any method of analysis of a subject as his dialectic; but he conceived that the analytical habits formed by the comprehensive study of the exact sciences, and sharpened by the practice of dialogue, would lead his students to the knowledge of first principles.—Dr. Whewell.
Morphology, in natural science, teaches us that the whole animal and vegetable creation is formed upon certain fundamental types and patterns, which can be traced under various modifications and transformations through all the rich variety of things apparently of most dissimilar build. But here and there a scientific person takes it into his foolish head that there may be a set of moulds without a moulder, a calculated gradation of forms without a calculator, an ordered world without an ordering God. Now, this atheistical science conveys about as much meaning as suicidal life: for science is possible only where there are ideas, and ideas are only possible where there is mind, and minds are the offspring of God; and atheism itself is not merely ignorance and stupidity,—it is the purely nonsensical and the unintelligible.—Professor Blackie;Edinburgh Essays, 1856.
To observe properly in the very simplest of the physical sciences requires a long and severe training. No one knows this so feelingly as the great discoverer. Faraday once said, that he always doubts his own observations. Mitscherlich on one occasion remarked to a man of science that it takes fourteen years to discover and establish a single new fact in chemistry. An enthusiastic student one day betook himself to Baron Cuvier with the exhibition of a new organ—a muscle which he supposed himself to have discovered in the body of some living creature or other; but the experienced and sagacious naturalist kindly bade the young man return to him with the same discovery in six months. The Baron would not even listen to the student’s demonstration, nor examine his dissection, till the eager and youthful discoverer had hung over the object of inquiry for half a year; and yet that object was a mere thing of the senses.—North-British Review, No. 18.
In the observation of a phenomenon which at first sight appears to be wholly isolated, how often may be concealed the germ of a great discovery! Thus, when Galvani first stimulated the nervous fibre of the frog by the accidental contact of two heterogeneous metals, his contemporaries could never have anticipated that the action of the voltaic pile would discover to us in the alkalies metals of a silver lustre, so light as to swim on water, and eminently inflammable; or that it would become a powerful instrument of chemical analysis, and at the same time a thermoscope and a magnet. When Huyghens first observed, in 1678, the phenomenon of the polarisation of light, exhibited in the difference between two rays into which a pencil of light divides itself in passing through a doubly refracting crystal, it could not have been foreseen that a century and a half later the great philosopher Arago would, by his discovery ofchromatic polarisation, be led to discern, by means of a small fragment of Iceland spar, whether solar light emanates from a solid body or a gaseous covering; or whether comets transmit light directly, or merely by reflection.—Humboldt’s Cosmos, vol. i.
What are the great wonders, the great sources of man’s material strength, wealth, and comfort in modern times? The Railway, with its mile-long trains of men and merchandise, moving with the velocity of the wind, and darting over chasms a thousand feet wide; the Electric Telegraph, along which man’s thoughts travel with the velocity of light, and girdle the earth more quickly than Puck’s promise to his master; the contrivance by which the Magnet, in the very middle of a strip of iron, is still true to the distant pole, and remains a faithful guide to the mariner; the Electrotype process, by which a metallic model of any given object, unerringly exact, grows into being like a flower. Now, all these wonders are the result of recent and profound discoveries in theoretical science. The Locomotive Steam-engine, and the Steam-engine in all its other wonderful and invaluable applications, derives its efficacy from the discoveries, by Watt and others, of the laws of steam. The Railway Bridge is not made strong by mere accumulation of materials, but by the most exact and careful scientific examination of the means of giving the requisite strength to every part, as in the great example of Mr. Stephenson’s Britannia Bridge over the Menai Strait. The Correction of the Magnetic Needle in iron ships it would have been impossible for Mr. Airy to secure without a complete theoretical knowledge ofthe laws of Magnetism. The Electric Telegraph and the Electrotype process include in their principles and mechanism the most complete and subtle results of electrical and magnetical theory.—Edinburgh Review, No. 216.
In the progress of society all great and real improvements are perpetuated: the same corn which, four thousand years ago, was raised from an improved grass by an inventor worshiped for two thousand years in the ancient world under the name of Ceres, still forms the principal food of mankind; and the potato, perhaps the greatest benefit that the old has derived from the new world, is spreading over Europe, and will continue to nourish an extensive population when the name of the race by whom it was first cultivated in South America is forgotten.—Sir H. Davy.
Geoffrey Chaucer, the poet, wrote a treatise on the Astrolabe for his son, which is the earliest English treatise we have met with on any scientific subject. It was not completed; and the apologies which Chaucer makes to his own child for writing in English are curious; while his inference that his son should therefore “pray God save the king that is lord of this language,” is at least as loyal as logical.
Galileo was confident that the most important part of his contributions to the knowledge of the solar system was his Theory of the Tides—a theory which all succeeding astronomers have rejected as utterly baseless and untenable. Descartes probably placed far above his beautiful explanation of the rainbow, hisà prioritheory of the existence of the vortices which caused the motion of the planets and satellites. Newton perhaps considered as one of the best parts of his optical researches his explanation of the natural colour of bodies, which succeeding optical philosophers have had to reject; and he certainly held very strongly the necessity of a material cause for gravity, which his disciples have disregarded. Davy looked for his greatest triumph in the application of his discoveries to prevent the copper bottoms of ships from being corroded. And so in other matters.—Edinburgh Review, No. 216.
Professor George Wilson, in a lecture to the Scottish Society of Arts, says: “The spectacle of these things ministersonly to the good impulses of humanity. Isaac Newton’s telescope at the Royal Society of London; Otto Guericke’s air-pump in the Library at Berlin; James Watt’s repaired Newcomen steam-engine in the Natural-Philosophy class-room of the College at Glasgow; Fahrenheit’s thermometer in the corresponding class-room of the University of Edinburgh; Sir H. Davy’s great voltaic battery at the Royal Institution, London, and his safety-lamp at the Royal Society; Joseph Black’s pneumatic trough in Dr. Gregory’s possession; the first wire which Faraday made rotate electro-magnetically, at St. Bartholomew’s Hospital; Dalton’s atomic models at Manchester; and Kemp’s liquefied gases in the Industrial Museum of Scotland,—are alike personal relics, historical monuments, and objects of instruction, which grow more and more precious every year, and of which we never can have too many.”
The Royal Society was formed with the avowed object of increasing knowledge by direct experiment; and it is worthy of remark, that the charter granted by Charles II. to this celebrated institution declares that its object is the extension of natural knowledge, as opposed to that which is supernatural.
Dr. Paris (Life of Sir H. Davy, vol. ii. p. 178) says: “The charter of the Royal Society states that it was established for the improvement ofnaturalscience. This epithetnaturalwas originally intended to imply a meaning, of which very few persons, I believe, are aware. At the period of the establishment of the society, the arts of witchcraft and divination were very extensively encouraged; and the wordnaturalwas therefore introduced in contradistinction tosupernatural.”
After the death of Bacon, one of the most distinguished Englishmen was certainly Robert Boyle, who, if compared with his contemporaries, may be said to rank immediately below Newton, though of course very inferior to him as an original thinker. Boyle was the first who instituted exact experiments into the relation between colour and heat; and by this means not only ascertained some very important facts, but laid a foundation for that union between optics and thermotics, which, though not yet completed, now merely waits for some great philosopher to strike out a generalisation large enough to cover both, and thus fuse the two sciences into a single study. It is also to Boyle, more than to any other Englishman, that we owe the science of hydrostatics in the statein which we now possess it.3He is also the original discoverer of that beautiful law, so fertile in valuable results, according to which the elasticity of air varies as its density. And, in the opinion of one of the most eminent modern naturalists, it was Boyle who opened up those chemical inquiries which went on accumulating until, a century later, they supplied the means by which Lavoisier and his contemporaries fixed the real basis of chemistry, and enabled it for the first time to take its proper stand among those sciences that deal with the external world.—Buckle’s History of Civilization, vol. i.
Of the rooms occupied by Newton during his early residence at Cambridge, it is now difficult to settle the locality. The chamber allotted to him as Fellow, in 1667, was “the Spiritual Chamber,” conjectured to have been the ground-room, next the chapel, but it is not certain that he resided there. The rooms in which he lived from 1682 till he left Cambridge, are in the north-east corner of the great court, on the first floor, on the right or north of the gateway or principal entrance to the college. His laboratory, as Dr. Humphrey Newton tell us, was “on the left end of the garden, near the east end of the chapel; and his telescope (refracting) was five feet long, and placed at the head of the stairs, going down into the garden.”4The east side of Newton’s rooms has been altered within the last fifty years: Professor Sedgwick, who came up to college in 1804, recollects a wooden room, supported on an arcade, shown in Loggan’s view, in place of which arcade is now a wooden wall and brick chimney.
Dr. Humphrey Newton relates that in college Sir Isaac very rarely went to bed till two or three o’clock in the morning, sometimes not till five or six, especially at spring and fall of the leaf, when he used to employ about six weeks in his laboratory, the fire scarcely going out either night or day; he sitting up one night, and Humphrey another, till he had finished his chemical experiments. Dr. Newton describes the laboratory as “well furnished with chymical materials, as bodyes, receivers, heads, crucibles, &c., which was made very little use of, yecrucibles excepted, in which he fused his metals: he would sometimes, though very seldom, look into an old mouldy book, which lay in his laboratory; I think it was titledAgricola de Metallis, the transmuting of metals being his chief design, for which purpose antimonywas a great ingredient.” “His brick furnaces,pro re nata, he made and altered himself without troubling a bricklayer.” “What observations he might make with his telescope, I know not, but several of his observations about comets and the planets may be found scattered here and there in a book intitledThe Elements of Astronomy, by Dr. David Gregory.”5
Dr. Humphrey Newton relates that in college Sir Isaac very rarely went to bed till two or three o’clock in the morning, sometimes not till five or six, especially at spring and fall of the leaf, when he used to employ about six weeks in his laboratory, the fire scarcely going out either night or day; he sitting up one night, and Humphrey another, till he had finished his chemical experiments. Dr. Newton describes the laboratory as “well furnished with chymical materials, as bodyes, receivers, heads, crucibles, &c., which was made very little use of, yecrucibles excepted, in which he fused his metals: he would sometimes, though very seldom, look into an old mouldy book, which lay in his laboratory; I think it was titledAgricola de Metallis, the transmuting of metals being his chief design, for which purpose antimonywas a great ingredient.” “His brick furnaces,pro re nata, he made and altered himself without troubling a bricklayer.” “What observations he might make with his telescope, I know not, but several of his observations about comets and the planets may be found scattered here and there in a book intitledThe Elements of Astronomy, by Dr. David Gregory.”5
Curious and manifold as are the trees associated with the great names of their planters, or those who have sojourned in their shade, the Tree which, by the falling of its fruit, suggested to Newton the idea of Gravity, is of paramount interest. It appears that, in the autumn of 1665, Newton left his college at Cambridge for his paternal home at Woolsthorpe. “When sitting alone in the garden,” says Sir David Brewster, “and speculating on the power of gravity, it occurred to him, that as the same power by which the apple fell to the ground was not sensibly diminished at the greatest distance from the centre of the earth to which we can reach, neither at the summits of the loftiest spires, nor on the tops of the highest mountains, it might extend to the moon and retain her in her orbit, in the same manner as it bends into a curve a stone or a cannon-ball when projected in a straight line from the surface of the earth.”—Life of Newton, vol. i. p. 26. Sir David Brewster notes, that neither Pemberton nor Whiston, who received from Newton himself his first ideas of gravity, records this story of the falling apple. It was mentioned, however, to Voltaire by Catherine Barton, Newton’s niece; and to Mr. Green by Martin Folkes, President of the Royal Society. Sir David Brewster saw the reputed apple-tree in 1814, and brought away a portion of one of its roots. The tree was so much decayed that it was cut down in 1820, and the wood of it carefully preserved by Mr. Turnor, of Stoke Rocheford.
De Morgan (inNotes and Queries, 2d series, No. 139, p. 169) questions whether the fruit was an apple, and maintains that the anecdote rests upon very slight authority; more especially as the idea had for many years been floating before the minds of physical inquirers; although Newton cleared away the confusions and difficulties which prevented very able men from proceeding beyond conjecture, and by this means establisheduniversalgravitation.
De Morgan (inNotes and Queries, 2d series, No. 139, p. 169) questions whether the fruit was an apple, and maintains that the anecdote rests upon very slight authority; more especially as the idea had for many years been floating before the minds of physical inquirers; although Newton cleared away the confusions and difficulties which prevented very able men from proceeding beyond conjecture, and by this means establisheduniversalgravitation.
“It may be justly said,” observes Halley, “that so many and so valuable philosophical truths as are herein discovered and put past dispute were never yet owing to the capacity and industry of any one man.” “The importance and generality of the discoveries,” says Laplace, “and the immense number of original and profound views, which have been the germ of the most brilliant theories of the philosophers of this (18th) century, and all presented with much elegance, will ensure to the work on theMathematical Principles of Natural Philosophya preëminence above all the other productions of human genius.”
The most profound among the many eminent thinkers France has produced, is Réné Descartes, of whom the least that can be said is, that he effected a revolution more decisive than has ever been brought about by any other single mind; that he was the first who successfully applied algebra to geometry; that he pointed out the important law of the sines; that in an age in which optical instruments were extremely imperfect, he discovered the changes to which light is subjected in the eye by the crystalline lens; that he directed attention to the consequences resulting from the weight of the atmosphere; and that he moreover detected the causes of the rainbow. At the same time, and as if to combine the most varied forms of excellence, he is not only allowed to be the first geometrician of the age, but by the clearness and admirable precision of his style, he became one of the founders of French prose. And, although he was constantly engaged in those lofty inquiries into the nature of the human mind, which can never be studied without wonder, he combined with them a long course of laborious experiment upon the animal frame, which raised him to the highest rank among the anatomists of his time. The great discovery made by Harvey of the Circulation of the Blood was neglected by most of his contemporaries; but it was at once recognised by Descartes, who made it the basis of the physiological part of his work on man. He was likewise the discoverer of the lacteals by Aselli, which, like every greattruth yet laid before the world, was at its first appearance, not only disbelieved, but covered with ridicule.—Buckle’s History of Civilization, vol. i.
If a cone or sugar-loaf be cut through in certain directions, we shall obtain figures which are termed conic sections: thus, if we cut through a sugar-loaf parallel to its base or bottom, the outline or edge of the loaf where it is cut will bea circle. If the cut is made so as to slant, and not be parallel to the base of the loaf, the outline is anellipse, provided the cut goes quite through the sides of the loaf all round; but if it goes slanting, and parallel to the line of the loaf’s side, the outline is aparabola, a conic section or curve, which is distinguished by characteristic properties, every point of it bearing a certain fixed relation to a certain point within it, as the circle does to its centre.—Dr. Paris’s Notes to Philosophy in Sport, &c.
The higher class of mathematicians, at the end of the seventeenth century, had become excellent computers, particularly in England, of which Wallis, Newton, Halley, the Gregorys, and De Moivre, are splendid examples. Before results of extreme exactness had become quite familiar, there was a gratifying sense of power in bringing out the new methods. Newton, in one of his letters to Oldenburg, says that he was at one time too much attached to such things, and that he should be ashamed to say to what number of figures he was in the habit of carrying his results. The growth of power of computation on the Continent did not, however, keep pace with that of the same in England. In 1696, De Laguy, a well-known writer on algebra, and a member of the Academy of Sciences, said that the most skilful computer could not, in less than a month, find within a unit the cube root of 696536483318640035073641037.—De Morgan.
Humboldt, characterises this “uncommon but definite expression” as the treating of “the assemblage of all things with which space is filled, from the remotest nebulæ to the climatic distribution of those delicate tissues of vegetable matter which spread a variegated covering over the surface of our rocks.” The wordcosmos, which primitively, in the Homeric ages, indicated an idea of order and harmony, was subsequently adopted in scientific language, where it was gradually applied to the order observed in the movements of the heavenly bodies; to the whole universe; and then finally to the world in which this harmony was reflected to us.