A Preliminary Discourse on the Study of Natural Philosophy/Part 3, chap. 6
(383.) There is no more extraordinary contrast than that presented by the slow progress of the physical sciences, from the earliest ages of the world to the close of the sixteenth century, and the rapid developement they have since experienced. In the former period of their history, we find only small additions to the stock of knowledge, made at long intervals of time; during which a total indifference on the part of the mass of mankind to the study of nature operated to effect an almost complete oblivion of former discoveries, or, at best, permitted them to linger on record, rather as literary curiosities, than as possessing, in themselves, any intrinsic interest and importance. A few enquiring individuals, from age to age, might perceive their value, and might feel that irrepressible thirst after knowledge which, in minds of the highest order, supplies the absence both of external stimulus and opportunity. But the total want of a right direction given to enquiry, and of a clear perception of the objects to be aimed at, and the advantages to be gained by systematic and connected research, together with the general apathy of society to speculations remote from the ordinary affairs of life, and studiously kept involved in learned mystery, effectually prevented these occasional impulses from overcoming the inertia of ignorance, and impressing any regular and steady progress on science. Its objects, indeed, were confined in a region too sublime for vulgar comprehension. An earthquake, a comet, or a fiery meteor, would now and then call the attention of the whole world, and produce from all quarters a plentiful supply of crude and fanciful conjectures on their causes; but it was never supposed that sciences could exist among common objects, have a place among mechanical arts, or find worthy matter of speculation in the mine or the laboratory. Yet it cannot be supposed, that all the indications of nature continually passed unremarked, or that much good observation and shrewd reasoning on it failed to perish unrecorded, before the invention of printing enabled every one to make his ideas known to all the world. The moment this took place, however, the sparks of information from time to time struck out, instead of glimmering for a moment, and dying away in oblivion, began to accumulate into a genial glow, and the flame was at length kindled which was speedily to acquire the strength and rapid spread of a conflagration. The universal excitement in the minds of men throughout Europe, which the first out-break of modern science produced, has been already spoken of. But even the most sanguine anticipators could scarcely have looked forward to that steady, unintermitted progress which it has since maintained, nor to that rapid succession of great discoveries which has kept up the interest of the first impulse still vigorous and undiminished. It may truly, indeed, be said, that there is scarcely a single branch of physical enquiry which is either stationary, or which has not been, for many years past, in a constant state of advance, and in which the progress is not, at this moment, going on with accelerated rapidity.
(384.) Among the causes of this happy and desirable state of things, no doubt we are to look, in the first instance, to that great increase in wealth and civilization which has at once afforded the necessary leisure and diffused the taste for intellectual pursuits among numbers of mankind, which have long been and still continue steadily progressive in every principal European state, and which the increase and fresh establishment of civilized communities in every distant region are rapidly spreading over the whole globe. It is not, however, merely the increased number of cultivators of science, but their enlarged opportunities, that we have here to consider, which, in all those numerous departments of natural research that require local information, is in fact the most important consideration of all. To this cause we must trace the great extension which has of late years been conferred on every branch of natural history, and the immense contributions which have been made, and are daily making, to the departments of zoology and botany, in all their ramifications. It is obvious, too, that all the information that can possibly be procured, and reported, by the most enlightened and active travellers, must fall infinitely short of what is to be obtained by individuals actually resident upon the spot. Travellers, indeed, may make collections, may snatch a few hasty observations, may note, for instance, the distribution of geological formations in a few detached points, and now and then witness remarkable local phenomena; but the resident alone can make continued series of regular observations, such as the scientific determination of climates, tides, magnetic variations, and innumerable other objects of that kind, requires; can alone mark all the details of geological structure, and refer each stratum, by a careful and long continued observation of its fossil contents, to its true epoch; can alone note the habits of the animals of his country, and the limits of its vegetation, or obtain a satisfactory knowledge of its mineral contents, with a thousand other particulars essential to that complete acquaintance with our globe as a whole, which is beginning to be understood by the extensive designation of physical geography. Besides which, ought not to be omitted multiplied opportunities of observing and recording those extraordinary phenomena of nature which offer an intense interest, from the rarity of their occurrence as well as the instruction they are calculated to afford. To what, then, may we not look forward, when a spirit of scientific enquiry shall have spread through those vast regions in which the process of civilization, its sure precursor, is actually commenced and in active progress? And what may we not expect from the exertions of powerful minds called into action under circumstances totally different from any which have yet existed in the world, and over an extent of territory far surpassing that which has hitherto produced the whole harvest of human intellect? In proportion as the number of those who are engaged on each department of physical enquiry increases, and the geographical extent over which they are spread is enlarged, a proportionately increased facility of communication and interchange of knowledge becomes essential to the prosecution of their researches with full advantage. Not only is this desirable, to prevent a number of individuals from making the same discoveries at the same moment, which (besides the waste of valuable time) has always been a fertile source of jealousies and misunderstandings, by which great evils have been entailed on science; but because methods of observation are continually undergoing new improvements, or acquiring new facilities, a knowledge of which, it is for the general interest of science, should be diffused as widely and as rapidly as possible. By this means, too, a sense of common interest, of mutual assistance, and a feeling of sympathy in a common pursuit, are generated, which proves a powerful stimulus to exertion; and, on the other hand, means are thereby afforded of detecting and pointing out mistakes before it is too late for their rectification.
(385.) Perhaps it may be truly remarked, that, next to the establishment of institutions having either the promotion of science in general, or, what is still more practically efficacious in its present advanced state, that of particular departments of physical enquiry, for their express objects, nothing has exercised so powerful an influence on the progress of modern science as the publication of monthly and quarterly scientific journals, of which there is now scarcely a nation in Europe which does not produce several. The quick and universal circulation of these, places observers of all countries on the same level of perfect intimacy with each other's objects and methods, while the abstracts they from time to time (if well conducted) contain of the most important researches of the day consigned to the more ponderous tomes of academical collections, serve to direct the course of general observation, as well as to hold out, in the most conspicuous manner, models for emulative imitation. In looking forward to what may hereafter be expected from this cause of improvement, we are not to forget the powerful effect which must in future be produced by the spread of elementary works and digests of what is actually known in each particular branch of science. Nothing can be more discouraging to one engaged in active research, than the impression that all he is doing may, very likely, be labour taken in vain, that it may, perhaps, have been already done, and much better done, than, with his opportunities, or his resources, he can hope to perform it; and, on the other hand, nothing can be more exciting than the contrary impression. Thus, by giving a connected view of what has been done, and what remains to be accomplished in every branch, those digests and bodies of science, which from time to time appear, have, in fact, a very important weight in determining its future progress, quite independent of the quantity of information they communicate. With respect to elementary treatises it is needless to point out their utility, or to dwell on the influence which their actual abundance, contrasted with their past remarkable deficiency, is likely to exercise over the future. It is only by condensing, simplifying, and arranging, in the most lucid possible manner, the acquired knowledge of past generations, that those to come can be enabled to avail themselves to the full of the advanced point from which they will start.
(386.) One of the means by which an advanced state of physical science contributes greatly to accelerate and secure its further progress, is the exact knowledge acquired of physical data, or those normal quantities which we have more than once spoken of in the preceding pages (222.); a knowledge which enables us not only to appretiate the accuracy of experiments, but even to correct their results. As there is no surer criterion of the state of science in any age than the degree of care bestowed, and discernment exhibited, in the choice of such data, so as to afford the simplest possible grounds for the application of theories, and the degree of accuracy attained in their determination, so there is scarcely any thing by which science can be more truly benefited than by researches directed expressly to this object, and to the construction of tables exhibiting the true numerical relations of the elements of theories, and the actual state of nature, in all its different branches. It is only by such determinations that we can ascertain what changes are slowly and imperceptibly taking place in the existing order of things; and the more accurate they are, the sooner will this knowledge be acquired. What might we not now have known of the motions of the (so-called) fixed stars, had the ancients possessed the means of observation we now possess, and employed them as we employ them now?
(387.) In any enumeration of causes which have contributed to the recent rapid advancement of science, we must not forget the very important one of improved and constantly improving means of observation, both in instruments adapted for the exact measurement of quantity, and in the general convenience and well-judged adaptation to its purposes, of every description of scientific apparatus. In the actual state of science there are few observations which can be productive of any great advantage but such as afford accurate measurement; and an increased refinement in this respect is constantly called for. The degree of delicacy actually attained, we will not say in the most elaborate works of the highest art, but in such ordinary apparatus as every observer may now command, is such as could not have been arrived at unless in a state of the mechanical arts, which in its turn (such is the mutual re-action of cause and effect) requires for its existence a very advanced state of science. What an important influence may be exercised over the progress of a single branch of science by the invention of a ready and convenient mode of executing a definite measurement, and the construction and common introduction of an instrument adapted for it cannot be better exemplified than by the instance of the reflecting goniometer. This simple, cheap, and portable little instrument, has changed the face of mineralogy, and given it all the characters of one of the exact sciences.
(388.) Our means of perceiving and measuring minute quantities, in the important relations of weight, space, and time, seem already to have been carried to a point which it is hardly conceivable they should surpass. Balances have been constructed which have rendered sensible the millionth part of the whole quantity weighed; and to turn with the thousandth part of a grain is the performance of balances pretending to no very extraordinary degree of merit. The elegant invention of the sphærometer, by substituting the sense of touch for that of sight in the measurement of minute objects, permits the determination of their dimensions with a degree of precision which is fully adequate to the nicest purposes of scientific enquiry. By its aid an inch may be readily subdivided into ten or even twenty thousand parts; and the lever of contact, an instrument in use among the German opticians, enables us to appreciate quantities of space even yet smaller. For the subdivision of time, too, the perfection of modern mechanism has furnished resources which leave very little to be desired. By the aid of clocks and chronometers, as they are now constructed, a few tenths of a second is all the error that need be apprehended in the subdivision of a day; and for the further subdivision of smaller portions of time, instruments have been imagined which admit of almost unlimited precision, and permit us to appreciate intervals to the nicety of the hundredth, or even the thousandth part of a single second.[1] When the precision attainable by such means is contrasted with what could be procured a few generations ago, by the rude and clumsy workmanship of even the early part of the last century, it will be no matter of astonishment that the sciences which depend on exact measurements should have made a proportional progress. Nor will any degree of nicety in physical determinations appear beyond our reach, if we consider the inexhaustible resources which science itself furnishes, in rendering the quantities actually to be determined by measure great multiples of the elements required for the purposes of theory, so as to diminish in the same proportion the influence of any errors which may be committed on the final results.
(389.) Great, indeed, as have been of late the improvements in the construction of instruments, both as to what regards convenience and accuracy, it is to the discovery of improved methods of observation that the chief progress of those parts of science which depend on exact determinations is owing. The balance of torsion, the ingenious invention of Cavendish and Coulomb, may be cited as an example of what we mean. By its aid we are enabled not merely to render sensible, but to subject to precise measurement and subdivision, degrees of force infinitely too feeble to affect the nicest balance of the usual construction, even were it possible to bring them to act on it. The galvanometer, too, affords another example of the same kind, in an instrument whose range of utility lies among electric forces which we have no other means of rendering sensible, much less of estimating with exactness. In determinations of quantities less minute in themselves, the methods devised by Messrs. Arago and Fresnel, for the measurement of the refractive powers of transparent media by means of the phenomenon of diffraction, may be cited as affording a degree of precision limited only by the wishes of the observer, and the time and patience he is willing to devote to his observation. And in respect of the direction of observations to points from which real information is to be obtained, and positive conclusions drawn, the hygrometer of Daniell may be cited as an elegant example of the introduction into general use of an instrument substituting an indication founded on strict principles for one perfectly arbitrary.
(390.) In speculating on the future prospects of physical science, we should not be justified in leaving out of consideration the probability, or rather certainty, of the occasional occurrence of those happy accidents which have had so powerful an influence on the past; occasions, where a fortunate combination opportunely noticed may admit us in an instant to the knowledge of principles of which no suspicion might occur but for some such casual notice. Boyle has entitled one of his essays thus remarkably,—"Of Man's great Ignorance of the Uses of natural Things; or that there is no one Thing in Nature whereof the Uses to human Life are yet thoroughly understood.[2] The whole history of the arts since Boyle's time has been one continued comment on this text; and if we regard among the uses of the works of nature, that, assuredly the noblest of all, which leads us to a knowledge of the Author of nature through the contemplation of the wonderful means by which he has wrought out his purposes in his works, the sciences have not been behind hand in affording their testimony to its truth. Nor are we to suppose that the field is in the slightest degree narrowed, or the chances in favour of such fortunate discoveries at all decreased, by those which have already taken place: on the contrary, they have been incalculably extended. It is true that the ordinary phenomena which pass before our eyes have been minutely examined, and those more striking and obvious principles which occur to superficial observation have been noticed and embodied in our systems of science; but, not to mention that by far the greater part of natural phenomena remain yet unexplained, every new discovery in science brings into view whole classes of facts which would never otherwise have fallen under our notice at all, and establishes relations which afford to the philosophic mind a constantly extending field of speculation, in ranging over which it is next to impossible that he should not encounter new and unexpected principles. How infinitely greater, for instance, are the mere chances of discovery in chemistry among the innumerable combinations with which the modern chemist is familiar, than at a period when two or three imaginary elements, and some ten or twenty substances, whose properties were known with an approach to distinctness, formed the narrow circle within which his ideas had to revolve? How many are the instances where a new substance, or a new property, introduced into familiar use, by being thus brought into relation with all our actual elements of knowledge, has become the means of developing properties and principles among the most common objects, which could never have otherwise been discovered? Had not platina (to take an instance) been an object of the most ordinary occurrence in a laboratory, would a suspicion have ever occurred that a lamp could be constructed to burn without flame; and should we have ever arrived at a knowledge of those curious phenomena and products of semi-combustion which this beautiful experiment discloses?
(391.) Finally, when we look back on what has been accomplished in science, and compare it with what remains to be done, it is hardly possible to avoid being strongly impressed with the idea that we have been and are still executing the labour by which succeeding generations are to profit.[3] In a few instances only have we arrived at those general axiomatic laws which admit of direct deductive inference, and place the solutions of physical phenomena before us as so many problems, whose principles of solution we fully possess, and which require nothing but acuteness of reasoning to pursue even into their farthest recesses. In fewer still have we reached that command of abstract reasoning itself which is necessary for the accomplishment of so arduous a task. Science, therefore, in relation to our faculties, still remains boundless and unexplored, and, after the lapse of a century and a half from the æra of Newton's discoveries, during which every department of it has been cultivated with a zeal and energy which have assuredly met their full return, we remain in the situation in which he figured himself,—standing on the shore of a wide ocean, from whose beach we may have culled some of those innumerable beautiful productions it casts up with lavish prodigality, but whose acquisition can be regarded as no diminution of the treasures that remain.
(392.) But this consideration, so far from repressing our efforts, or rendering us hopeless of attaining any thing intrinsically great, ought rather to excite us to fresh enterprise, by the prospect of assured and ample recompense from that inexhaustible store which only awaits our continued endeavours. "It is no detraction from human capacity to suppose it incapable of infinite exertion, or of exhausting an infinite subject."[4] In whatever state of knowledge we may conceive man to be placed, his progress towards a yet higher state need never fear a check, but must continue till the last existence of society.
(393.) It is in this respect an advantageous view of science, which refers all its advances to the discovery of general laws, and to the inclusion of what is already known in generalizations of still higher orders; inasmuch as this view of the subject represents it, as it really is, essentially incomplete, and incapable of being fully embodied in any system, or embraced by any single mind. Yet it must be recollected that, so far as our experience has hitherto gone, every advance towards generality has at the same time been a step towards simplification. It is only when we are wandering and lost in the mazes of particulars, or entangled in fruitless attempts to work our way downwards in the thorny paths of applications, to which our reasoning powers are incompetent, that nature appears complicated:—the moment we contemplate it as it is, and attain a position from which we can take a commanding view, though but of a small part of its plan, we never fail to recognise that sublime simplicity on which the mind rests satisfied that it has attained the truth.