(13.) Science is the knowledge of many, orderly and methodically digested and arranged, so as to become attainable by one. The knowledge of reasons and their conclusions constitutes abstract, that of causes and their effects, and of the laws of nature, natural science.
(14.) Abstract science is independent of a system of nature,—of a creation,—of every thing, in short, except memory, thought, and reason. Its objects are, first, those primary existences and relations which we cannot even conceive not to be, such as space, time, number, order, &c.; and, secondly, those artificial forms, or symbols, which thought has the power of creating for itself at pleasure, and substituting as representatives, by the aid of memory, for combinations of those primary objects and of its own conceptions,—either to facilitate the act of reasoning respecting them, or as convenient deposits of its own conclusions, or for their communication to others. Such are, first, language, oral or written; its conventional forms, which constitute grammar, and the rules for its use in argument, in which consists the logic of the schools; secondly, notation, which, applied to number, is arithmetic,—and, to the more general relations of abstract quantity or order, is algebra; and, thirdly, that higher kind of logic, which teaches us to use our reason in the most advantageous manner for the discovery of truth; which points out the criterions by which we may be sure we have attained it; and which, by detecting the sources of error, and exposing the haunts where fallacies are apt to lurk, at once warns us of their danger, and shows us how to avoid them. This greater logic may be termed rational[1]; while, to that inferior department which is conversant with words alone, the epithet verbal[2] may, for distinction, be applied.
(15.) A certain moderate degree of acquaintance with abstract science is highly desirable to every one who would make any considerable progress in physics. As the universe exists in time and place; and as motion, velocity, quantity, number, and order, are main elements of our knowledge of external things and their changes, an acquaintance with these, abstractedly considered, (that is to say, independent of any consideration of the particular things moved, measured, counted, or arranged,) must evidently be a useful preparation for the more complex study of nature. But there is yet another recommendation of such sciences as a preparation for the study of natural philosophy. Their objects are so definite, and our notions of them so distinct, that we can reason about them with an assurance, that the words and signs used in our reasonings are full and true representatives of the things signified; and, consequently, that when we use language or signs in argument, we neither, by their use, introduce extraneous notions, nor exclude any part of the case before us from consideration. For example: the words space, square, circle, a hundred, &c., convey to the mind notions so complete in themselves, and so distinct from every thing else, that we are sure when we use them we know and have in view the whole of our own meaning. It is widely different with words expressing natural objects and mixed relations. Take, for instance, iron. Different persons attach very different ideas to this word. One who has never heard of magnetism has a widely different notion of iron from one in the contrary predicament. The vulgar, who regard this metal as incombustible, and the chemist, who sees it burn with the utmost fury, and who has other reasons for regarding it as one of the most combustible bodies in nature;—the poet, who uses it as an emblem of rigidity; and the smith and engineer, in whose hands it is plastic, and moulded like wax into every form;—the jailer, who prizes it as an obstruction, and the electrician, who sees in it only a channel of open communication by which that most impassable of obstacles, the air, may be traversed by his imprisoned fluid, have all different, and all imperfect, notions of the same word. The meaning of such a term is like a rainbow—every body sees a different one, and all maintain it to be the same. So it is with nearly all our terms of sense. Some are indefinite, as hard or soft, light or heavy (terms which were at one time the sources of innumerable mistakes and controversies); some excessively complex, as man, life, instinct. But, what is worst of all, some, nay most, have two or three meanings; sufficiently distinct from each other to make a proposition true in one sense and false in another, or even false altogether; yet not distinct enough to keep us from confounding them in the process by which we arrived at it, or to enable us immediately to recognise the fallacy when led to it by a train of reasoning, each step of which we think we have examined and approved. Surely those who thus attach two senses to one word, or superadd a new meaning to an old one, act as absurdly as colonists who distribute themselves over the world, naming every place they come to by the names of those they have left, till all distinctions of geographical nomenclature are confounded, and till we are unable to decide whether an occurrence stated to have happened at Windsor took place in Europe, America, or Australia.[3]
(16.) It is, in fact, in this double or incomplete sense of words that we must look for the origin of a very large portion of the errors into which we fall. Now, the study of the abstract sciences, such as arithmetic, geometry, algebra, &c., while they afford scope for the exercise of reasoning about objects that are, or, at least, may be conceived to be, external to us; yet, being free from these sources of error and mistake, accustom us to the strict use of language as an instrument of reason, and by familiarising us in our progress towards truth to walk uprightly and straightforward on firm ground, give us that proper and dignified carriage of mind which could never be acquired by having always to pick our steps among obstructions and loose fragments, or to steady them in the reeling tempest of conflicting meanings.
(17.) But there is yet another point of view under which some acquaintance with abstract science may be regarded as highly desirable in general education, if not indispensably necessary, to impress on us the distinction between strict and vague reasoning, to show us what demonstration really is, and to give us thereby a full and intimate sense of the nature and strength of the evidence on which our knowledge of the actual system of nature, and the laws of natural phenomena, rests. For this purpose, however, a very moderate acquaintance with the more elementary branches of mathematics may suffice. The chain is laid before us, and every link is submitted to our unreserved examination, if we have patience and inclination to enter on such detail. Hundreds have gone through it, and will continue to do so; but, for the generality of mankind, it is enough to satisfy themselves of the solidity and adamantine texture of its materials, and the unreserved exposure of its weakest, as well as its strongest, parts. If, however, we content ourselves with this general view of the matter, we must be content also to take on trust, that is, on the authority of those who have examined deeper, every conclusion which cannot be made apparent to our senses. Now, among these there are many so very surprising, indeed apparently so extravagant, that it is quite impossible for any enquiring mind to rest contented with a mere hearsay statement of them,—we feel irresistibly impelled to enquire further into their truth. What mere assertion will make any man believe, that in one second of time, in one beat of the pendulum of a clock, a ray of light travels over 192,000 miles, and would therefore perform the tour of the world in about the same time that it requires to wink with our eyelids, and in much less than a swift runner occupies in taking a single stride? What mortal can be made to believe, without demonstration, that the sun is almost a million times larger than the earth? and that, although so remote from us, that a cannon ball shot directly towards it, and maintaining its full speed, would be twenty years in reaching it, it yet affects the earth by its attraction in an inappreciable instant of time?—a closeness of union of which we can form but a feeble, and totally inadequate, idea, by comparing it to any material connection; since the communication of an impulse to such a distance, by any solid intermedium we are acquainted with, would require, not moments, but whole years. And when, with pain and difficulty we have strained our imagination to conceive a distance so vast, a force so intense and penetrating, if we are told that the one dwindles to an insensible point, and the other is unfelt at the nearest of the fixed stars, from the mere effect of their remoteness, while among those very stars are some whose actual splendour exceeds by many hundred times that of the sun itself, although we may not deny the truth of the assertion, we cannot but feel the keenest curiosity to know how such things were ever made out.
(18.) The foregoing are among those results of scientific research which, by their magnitude, seem to transcend our powers of conception. There are others, again, which, from their minuteness, would appear to elude the grasp of thought, much more of distinct and accurate measurement. Who would not ask for demonstration, when told that a gnat's wing, in its ordinary flight, beats many hundred times in a second? or that there exist animated and regularly organised beings, many thousands of whose bodies laid close together would not extend an inch? But what are these to the astonishing truths which modern optical enquiries have disclosed, which teach us that every point of a medium through which a ray of light passes is affected with a succession of periodical movements, regularly recurring at equal intervals, no less than five hundred millions of millions of times in a single second! that it is by such movements, communicated to the nerves of our eyes, that we see—nay more, that it is the difference in the frequency of their recurrence which affects us with the sense of the diversity of colour; that, for instance, in acquiring the sensation of redness our eyes are affected four hundred and eighty-two millions of millions of times; of yellowness, five hundred and forty-two millions of millions of times; and of violet, seven hundred and seven millions of millions of times per second.[4] Do not such things sound more like the ravings of madmen, than the sober conclusions of people in their waking senses?
(19.) They are, nevertheless, conclusions to which any one may most certainly arrive, who will only be at the trouble of examining the chain of reasoning by which they have been deduced; but, in order to do this, something beyond the mere elements of abstract science is required. Waving, however, such instances as these, which, after all, are rather calculated to surprise and astound than for any other purpose, it must be observed that it is not possible to satisfy ourselves completely that we have arrived at a true statement of any law of nature, until, setting out from such statement, and making it a foundation of reasoning, we can show, by strict argument, that the facts observed must follow from it as necessary logical consequences, and this, not vaguely and generally, but with all possible precision in time, place, weight, and measure.
(20.) To do this, however, as we shall presently see, requires in many cases a degree of knowledge of mathematics and geometry altogether unattainable by the generality of mankind, who have not the leisure, even if they all had the capacity, to enter into such enquiries, some of which are indeed of that degree of difficulty that they can be only successfully prosecuted by persons who devote to them their whole attention, and make them the serious business of their lives. But there, is scarcely any person of good ordinary understanding, however little exercised in abstract enquiries, who may not be readily made to comprehend at least the general train of reasoning by which any of the great truths of physics are deduced, and the essential bearings and connections of the several parts of natural philosophy. There are whole branches too and very extensive and important ones, to which mathematical reasoning has never been at all applied; such as chemistry, geology, and natural history in general, and many others, in which it plays a very subordinate part, and of which the essential principles, and the grounds of application to useful purposes, may be perfectly well understood by a student who possesses no more mathematical knowledge than the rules of arithmetic; so that no one need be deterred from the acquisition of knowledge, or even from active original research in such subjects, by a want of mathematical information. Even in those branches which, like astronomy, optics, and dynamics, are almost exclusively under the dominion of mathematics, and in which no effectual progress can be made without some acquaintance with geometry, the principal results may be perfectly understood without it. To one incapable of following out the intricacies of mathematical demonstration, the conviction afforded by verified predictions must stand in the place of that purer and more satisfactory reliance which a verification of every step in the process of reasoning can alone afford, since every one will acknowledge the validity of pretensions which he is in the daily habit of seeing brought to the test of practice.
(21.) Among the verifications of this practical kind which abound in every department of physics, there are none more imposing than the precise prediction of the greater phenomena of astronomy; none, certainly, which carry a broader conviction home to every mind from their notoriety and unequivocal character. The prediction of eclipses has accordingly from the earliest ages excited the admiration of mankind, and been one grand instrument by which their allegiance (so to speak) to natural science, and their respect for its professors, has been maintained; and though strangely abused in unenlightened ages by the supernatural pretensions of astrologers, the credence given even to their absurdities shows the force of this kind of evidence on men's minds. The predictions of astronomers are, however, now far too familiar to endanger the just equipoise of our judgment, since even the return of comets, true to their paths and exact to the hour of their appointment, has ceased to amaze, though it must ever delight all who have souls capable of being penetrated by such beautiful instances of accordance between theory and facts. But the age of mere wonder in such things is past, and men prefer being guided and enlightened, to being astonished and dazzled. Eclipses, comets, and the like, afford but rare and transient displays of the powers of calculation, and of the certainty of the principles on which it is grounded. A page of "lunar distances" from the Nautical Almanack is worth all the eclipses that have ever happened for inspiring this necessary confidence in the conclusions of science. That a man, by merely measuring the moon's apparent distance from a star with a little portable instrument held in his hand, and applied to his eye, even with so unstable a footing as the deck of a ship, shall say positively, within five miles, where he is, on a boundless ocean, cannot but appear to persons ignorant of physical astronomy an approach to the miraculous. Yet, the alternatives of life and death, wealth and ruin, are daily and hourly staked with perfect confidence on these marvellous computations, which might almost seem to have been devised on purpose to show how closely the extremes of speculative refinement and practical utility can be brought to approximate. We have before us an anecdote communicated to us by a naval officer[5], distinguished for the extent and variety of his attainments, which shows how impressive such results may become in practice. He sailed from San Blas on the west coast of Mexico, and after a voyage of 8000 miles, occupying 89 days, arrived off Rio de Janeiro, having, in this interval, passed through the Pacific Ocean, rounded Cape Horn, and crossed the South Atlantic, without making any land, or even seeing a single sail, with the exception of an American whaler off Cape Horn. Arrived within a week's sail of Rio, he set seriously about determining, by lunar observations, the precise line of the ship's course and its situation in it at a determinate moment, and having ascertained this within from five to ten miles, ran the rest of the way by those more ready and compendious methods, known to navigators, which can be safely employed for short trips between one known point and another, but which cannot be trusted in long voyages, where the moon is the only sure guide. The rest of the tale we are enabled by his kindness to state in his own words:—"We steered towards Rio de Janeiro for some days after taking the lunars above described, and having arrived within fifteen or twenty miles of the coast, I hove to at four in the morning till the day should break, and then bore up; for although it was very hazy, we could see before us a couple of miles or so. About eight o'clock it became so foggy that I did not like to stand in farther, and was just bringing the ship to the wind again before sending the people to breakfast, when it suddenly cleared off, and I had the satisfaction of seeing the great Sugar Loaf Rock, which stands on one side of the harbour's mouth, so nearly right ahead that we had not to alter our course above a point in order to hit the entrance of Rio. This was the first land we had seen for three months, after crossing so many seas and being set backwards and forwards by innumerable currents and foul winds." The effect on all on board might well be conceived to have been electric; and it is needless to remark how essentially the authority of a commanding officer over his crew may be strengthened by the occurrence of such incidents, indicative of a degree of knowledge and consequent power beyond their reach.
(22.) But even such results as these, striking as they are, yet fall short of the force with which conviction is urged upon us when, through the medium of reasoning too abstract for common apprehension, we arrive at conclusions which outrun experience, and describe beforehand what will happen under new combinations, or even correct imperfect experiments, and lead us to a knowledge of facts contrary to received analogies drawn from an experience wrongly interpreted or overhastily generalised. To give an example:—every body knows that objects viewed through a transparent medium, such as water or glass, appear distorted or displaced. Thus, a stick in water appears bent, and an object seen through a prism or wedge of glass seems to be thrown aside from its true place. This effect is owing to what is called the refraction of light; and a simple rule discovered by Willebrod Snell enables any one to say exactly how much the stick will be bent, and how far, and in what direction, the apparent situation of an object seen through the glass will deviate from the real one. If a shilling be laid at the bottom of a basin of water and viewed obliquely, it will appear to be raised by the water; if instead of water spirits of wine be used it will appear more raised; if oil, still more:—but in none of these cases will it appear to be thrown aside to the right or left of its true place, however the eye be situated. The plane, in which are contained the eye, the object, and the point in the surface of the liquid at which the object is seen, is an upright or vertical plane; and this is one of the principal characters in the ordinary refraction of light, viz. that the ray by which we see an object through a refracting surface, although it undergoes a bending, and is, as it were, broken at the surface, yet, in pursuing its course to the eye, does not quit a plane perpendicular to the refracting surface. But there are again other substances, such as rock-crystal, and especially Iceland spar, which possess the singular property of doubling the image or appearance of an object seen through them in certain directions; so that instead of seeing one object we see two, side by side, when such a crystal or spar is interposed between the object and the eye; and if a ray or small sunbeam be thrown upon a surface of either of these substances, it will be split into two, making an angle with each other, and each pursuing its own separate course,—this is called double refraction. Now, of these images or doubly refracted rays, one always follows the same rule as if the substance were glass or water: its deviation can be correctly calculated by Snell's law above mentioned, and it does not quit the plane perpendicular to the refracting surface. The other ray, on the contrary, (which is therefore said to have undergone extraordinary refraction) does quit that plane, and the amount of its deviation from its former course requires for its determination a much more complicated rule, which cannot be understood or even stated without a pretty intimate knowledge of geometry. Now, rock-crystal and Iceland spar differ from glass in a very remarkable circumstance. They affect naturally certain regular figures, not being found in shapeless lumps, but in determinate geometrical forms; and they are susceptible of being cleft or split much easier in certain directions than in others—they have a grain which glass has not. When other substances having this peculiarity (and which are called crystallized substances) were examined, they were all, or by far the greater part, found to possess this singular property of double refraction; and it was very natural to conclude, therefore, that the same thing took place in all of them, viz. that of the two rays, into which any beam of light falling on the surface of such a substance was split, or of the two images of an object seen through it, one only was turned aside out of its plane and extraordinarily refracted, while the other followed the ordinary rule. Accordingly this was supposed to be the case; and not only so, but from some trials and measurements purposely made by a philosopher of great eminence, it was considered to be a fact sufficiently established by experiment.
(23.) Perhaps we might have remained long under this impression, for the measurements are delicate, and the subject very difficult. But it has lately been demonstrated by an eminent French philosopher and mathematician, M. Fresnel, that, granting certain principles or postulates, all the phenomena of double refraction, including perhaps the greatest variety of facts that have ever yet been arranged under one general head, may be satisfactorily explained and deduced from them by strict mathematical calculation; and that, when applied to the cases first mentioned, these principles give a satisfactory account of the want of the extraordinary image; that when applied to such cases as those of rock-crystal or Iceland spar, they also give a correct account of both the images, and agree in their conclusions with the rules before ascertained for them: but so far from coinciding with that part of the previous statement, which would make these conclusions extend to all crystallised substances, M. Fresnel's principles lead to a conclusion quite opposite, and point to a fact which had never been observed, viz. that in by far the greater number of crystallized substances which possess the property of double refraction, neither of the images follows the ordinary law, but both undergo a deviation from their original plane. Now this had never been observed to be the case in any previous trial, and all opinion was against it. But when put to the test of experiment in a great variety of new and ingenious methods, it was found to be fully verified; and to complete the evidence, the substances on whose imperfect examination the first erroneous conclusion was founded, having been lately subjected to a fresh and more scrupulous examination, the result has shown the insufficiency of the former measurements, and proved in perfect accordance with the newly discovered laws. Now it will be observed in this case, first, that, so far from the principles assumed by M. Fresnel being at all obvious, they are extremely remote from ordinary observation; and, secondly, that the chain of reasoning by which they are brought to the test is one of such length and complexity, and the purely mathematical difficulty of their application so great, that no mere good common sense, no general tact or ordinary practical reasoning, would afford the slightest chance of threading their mazes. Cases like this are the triumph of theories. They show at once how large a part pure reason has to perform in our examination of nature, and how implicit our reliance ought to be on that powerful and methodical system of rules and processes which constitute the modern mathematical analysis, in all the more difficult applications of exact calculation to her phenomena.
(24.) To take an instance more within ordinary apprehension. An eminent living geometer had proved by calculations, founded on strict optical principles, that in the centre of the shadow of a small circular plate of metal, exposed in a dark room to a beam of light emanating from a very small brilliant point, there ought to be no darkness,—in fact, no shadow at that place; but, on the contrary, a degree of illumination precisely as bright as if the metal plate were away. Strange and even impossible as this conclusion may seem, it has been put to the trial, and found perfectly correct.[6]
(25.) We shall now proceed to consider more particularly, and in detail,—
- ↑ Λογος, ratio, reason.
- ↑ Λογος, verbum, a word.
- ↑ It were much to be wished that navigators would be more cautious in laying themselves open to a similar censure. On looking hastily over a map of the world we see three Melville Islands, two King George's Sounds, and Cape Blancos innumerable.
- ↑ Young. Lectures on Nat. Phil. ii. 627. See also Phil. Trans. 1801–2.
- ↑ Captain Basil Hall, R. N.
- ↑ We must caution our readers who would assure themselves of it by trial, that it is an experiment of some delicacy, and not to be made without several precautions to ensure success. For these we must refer to our original authority (Fresnel. Mémoire sur la Diffraction de la Lumiere, p. 124.); and the principles on which they depend will of course be detailed in that volume of the Cabinet Cyclopædia which is devoted to the subject of Light.