Why flowing Tides prevail upon the main,
And in what dark abyss they shrink again;
What shakes the solid Earth; what cause delays
The Summer Nights; and shortens Winter Days. …
Happy the man who, studying Nature's Laws,
Through known effects can trace the secret cause!
Ovid[40] expresses a similar feeling.
Felices animos quibus hæc cognoscere primis
Inque domos superas scandere cura fuit! …
Admovere oculis distantia sidera nostris
Ætheraque ingenio supposuere suo.
Sic petitur cœlum: non ut ferat Ossam Olympus
Summaque Peliacus sidera tanget apex.
Thrice happy souls! to whom 'twas given to rise
To truths like these, and scale the spangled skies!
Far distant stars to clearest view they brought,
And girdled ether with their chain of thought.
So heaven is reached:—not as of old they tried
By mountains piled on mountains in their pride.
And from the whole tenour of these and similar passages, it is evident that the intellectual pleasure which arises from our first introduction to a beautiful physical theory had a main share in producing this enthusiasm at the contemplation of the victories of science; although undoubtedly the moral philosophy, which was never separated from the natural philosophy, and the triumph over superstitious fears, which a knowledge of nature was supposed to furnish, added warmth to the feeling of exultation.
We may trace a similar impression in the ardent expressions which Pliny[41] makes use of in speaking of the early astronomers, and which we have quoted in the History. "Great men! elevated above the common standard of human nature, by discovering the laws which celestial occurrences obey, and by freeing the wretched mind of man from the fears which eclipses inspired."
This exulting contemplation of what science had done, naturally led the mind to an anticipation of further achievements still to be performed. Expressions of this feeling occur in Seneca, and are of the most remarkable kind, as the following example will show[42]:
"Why do we wonder that comets, so rare a phenomenon, have not yet had their laws assigned?—that we should know so little of their beginning and their end, when their recurrence is at wide intervals? It is not yet fifteen hundred years since Greece,
Stellis numeros et nomina fecit,
'reckoned the stars, and gave them names.' There are still many nations which are acquainted with the heavens by sight only; which do not yet know why the moon disappears, why she is eclipsed. It is but lately that among us philosophy has reduced these matters to a certainty. The day shall come when the course of time and the labour of a maturer age shall bring to light what is yet concealed. One generation, even if it devoted itself to the skies, is not enough for researches so extensive. How then can it be so, when we divide this scanty allowance of years into no equal shares between our studies and our vices? These things then must be explained by a long succession of inquiries. We have but just begun to know how arise the morning and evening appearances, the stations, the progressions, and the retrogradations of the fixed stars which put themselves in our way;—which appearing perpetually in another and another place compel us to be curious. Some one will hereafter demonstrate in what region the comets wander; why they move so far asunder from the rest; of what size and nature they are. Let us be content with what we have discovered: let posterity contribute its share to truth." Again he adds[43] in the same strain: "Let us not wonder that what lies so deep is brought out so slowly. How many animals have become known for the first time in this age! And the members of future generations shall know many of which we are ignorant. Many things are reserved for ages to come, when our memory shall have passed away. The world would be a small thing indeed, if it did not contain matter of inquiry for all the world. Eleusis reserves something for the second visit of the worshipper. So too Nature does not at once disclose all HER mysteries. We think ourselves initiated; we are but in the vestibule. The arcana are not thrown open without distinction and without reserve. This age will see some things; that which comes after us, others."
While we admire the happy coincidence of these conjectures with the soundest views which the history of science teaches us, we must not forget that they are merely conjectures, suggested by very vague impressions, and associated with very scanty conceptions of the laws of nature. Seneca's Natural Questions, from which the above extract is taken, contains a series of dissertations on various subjects of Natural Philosophy; as Meteors, Rainbows, Lightnings, Springs, Rivers, Snow, Hail, Rain, Wind, Earthquakes and Comets. In the whole of these dissertations, the statements are loose, and the explanations of little or no value. Perhaps it may be worth our while to notice a case in which he refers to an observation of his own, although his conclusion from it be erroneous. He is arguing[44] against the opinion that Springs arise from the water which falls in rain. "In the first place," he says, "I, a very diligent digger in my vineyard, affirm that no rain is so heavy as to moisten the earth to the depth of more than ten feet. All the moisture is consumed in this outer crust, and descends not to the lower part." We have here something of the nature of an experiment; and indeed, as we may readily conceive, the instinct which impels man to seek truth by experiment can never be altogether extinguished. Seneca's experiment was deprived of its value by the indistinctness of his ideas, which led him to rest in the crude conception of the water being "consumed" in the superficial crust of the earth.
It is unnecessary to pursue further the reasonings of the Romans on such subjects, and we now proceed to the ages which succeeded the fall of their empire.
CHAPTER VIII.
Arabian Philosophers.
I have noticed certain additions to Physical Science made by the Arabians; namely, in Astronomy[45]. The discovery of the motion of the Sun's Apogee by Albategnius, and the discovery of the Moon's Variation by Aboul-Wefa; and in Optics[46] the assertion of Alhazen that the angle of refraction is not proportional to the angle of incidence, as Ptolemy had supposed: and certain steps in the philosophy of vision. We must also suppose, as the Arabic word alkali reminds us, that the Arabians contributed to lay the foundations of chemistry. The question which we have here to ask is, whether the Arabians made any steps beyond their predecessors in the philosophy of discovery. And to this question, I conceive the answer must be this: that among them as among the Greeks, those who practically observed nature, and especially those who made discoveries in Science, must have had a practical acquaintance with some of the maxims which are exemplified in the formation of Science. To discover that the Apogee of the Sun was 17 degrees distant from the point where Ptolemy had placed it, Albategnius made careful observations, and referred them to the theory of the eccentric, so as to verify or correct that theory. And when, in the eleventh century, Arzachel found the Apogee to be less advanced than Albategnius had found it, he proceeded again to correct the theory by introducing a new movement of the equinoctial points, which was called the Trepidation. It appeared afterwards, however, that, in doing this, he had had too much confidence in the observations
