The zetetic faithful reason about this matter as though the impressions

of the senses were trustworthy under all conditions, familiar or

otherwise; whereas, in point of fact, we know that the senses often

deceive, even under familiar conditions, and almost always deceive under

conditions, which are not familiar. A person, for example, accustomed to

the mist and haze of our British air, is told by the sense of sight,

when he is travelling where a clearer atmosphere prevails, that a

mountain forty miles from him is a hill a few miles away. On the other

hand, an Italian travelling through the Highlands is impressed with the

belief that all the features of the scenery are much larger (because he

supposes them much more remote) than they really are. A hundred such

instances of deception might easily be cited. The conditions under which

the aeronaut observes the earth are certainly less familiar than those

under which the Briton views the Alps and Apennines, or the Italian

views Ben Lomond or Ben Lawers. It would be rash, therefore, even if no

other evidence were available, to reject the faith that the earth is a

globe because, as seen from a balloon, it looks like a basin. Indeed, to

be strictly logical, the followers of Parallax ought on this account to

adopt the faith that the earth is not flat, but basin-shaped, which

hitherto they have not been ready to do.

We have seen that Parallax describes a certain experiment on the Bedford

Level, which, if made as he states, would have shown certainly that

something was wrong in the accepted system--for a six-mile straight-edge

along water would be as severe a blow to the belief in a round earth, as

a straight line on the sea-surface from Queenstown to New York. Another

curious experiment adorns his little book, which, if it could be

repeated successfully before a dozen trustworthy witnesses, would rather

astonish men of science. Having, he says, by certain

reasoning--altogether erroneous, but that is a detail--convinced himself

that, on the accepted theory, a bullet fired vertically upwards ought to

fall far to the west of the place whence it was fired, he carefully

fixed an air-gun in a vertical position, and fired forty bullets

vertically upwards. All these fell close to the gun--which is not

surprising, though it must have made such an experiment rather

dangerous; but two fell back into the barrel itself--which certainly was

very surprising indeed. One might fairly challenge the most experienced

gunner in the world to achieve one such vertical shot in a thousand

trials; two in forty bordered on the miraculous.

The earth-flatteners I have been speaking of claim, as one of their

objects, the defence of Scripture. But some of the earth-flatteners of

the last generation (or a little farther back) took quite another view

of the matter. For instance, Sir Richard Phillips, a more vehement

earth-flattener than Parallax, was so little interested in defending

the Scriptures, that in 1793 he was sentenced to a year's imprisonment

for selling a book regarded as atheistic. In 1836 he attempted the

conversion of Professor De Morgan, opening the correspondence with the

remark that he had 'an inveterate abhorrence of all the pretended wisdom

of philosophy derived from the monks and doctors of the Middle Ages, and

not less those of higher name who merely sought to make the monkish

philosophy more plausible, or so to disguise it as to mystify the mob of

small thinkers.' He seems himself to have succeeded in mystifying many

of those whom he intended to convert. Admiral Smyth gives the following

account of an interview he had with Phillips: 'This pseudo-mathematical

knight once called upon me at Bedford, without any previous

acquaintance, to discuss "those errors of Newton, which he almost

blushed to name," and which were inserted in the "Principia" to "puzzle

the vulgar." He sneered with sovereign contempt at the "Trinity of

Gravitating Force, Projectile Force, and Void Space," and proved that

all change of place is accounted for by motion.' [Startling hypothesis!]

'He then exemplified the conditions by placing some pieces of paper on a

table, and slapping his hand down close to them, thus making them fly

off, which he termed applying the momentum. All motion, he said, is in

the direction of the forces; and atoms seek the centre by "terrestrial

centripetation"--a property which causes universal pressure; but in what

these attributes of pushing and pulling differ from gravitation and

attraction was not expounded. Many of his "truths" were as mystified as

the conundrums of Rabelais; so nothing was made of the motion.'

A favourite subject of paradoxical ideas has been the moon's motion of

rotation. Strangely enough, De Morgan, who knew more about past

paradoxists than any man of his time, seems not to have heard of the

dispute between Keill and Bentley over this matter in 1690. He says,

'there was a dispute on the subject, in 1748, between James Ferguson and

an anonymous opponent; and I think there have been others;' but the

older and more interesting dispute he does not mention. Bentley, who was

no mathematician, pointed out in a lecture certain reasons for believing

that the moon does not turn on her axis, or has no axis on which she

turns. Keill, then only nineteen years old, pointed out that the

arguments used by Bentley proved that the moon does rotate instead of

showing that she does not. (Twenty years later Keill was appointed

Savilian Professor of Astronomy at Oxford. He was the first holder of

that office to teach the Newtonian astronomy.)

In recent times, as most of my readers know, the paradox that the moon

does not rotate has been revived more than once. In 1855 it was

sustained by Mr. Jellinger Symons, one of whose staunchest supporters,

Mr. H. Perigal, had commenced the attack a few years earlier. Of course,

the gist of the argument against the moon's rotation lies in the fact

that the moon always keeps the same face turned towards the earth, or

very nearly so. If she did so exactly, and if her distance from the

earth were constantly the same, then her motion would be exactly the

same as though she were rigidly connected with the earth, and turned

round an axis at the earth. The case may be thus illustrated: Through

the middle of a large orange thrust one short rod vertically, and

another long rod horizontally; thrust the further end of the latter

through a small apple, and now turn the whole affair round the short

vertical rod as an axis. Then the apple will move with respect to the

orange as the moon would move with respect to the earth on the

suppositions just made. No one in this case would say that the apple was

turning round on its axis, since its motion would be one of rotation

round the upright axis through the orange. Therefore, say the opponents

of the moon's rotation, no one should say that the moon turns round on

her axis.

Of course, the answer would be obvious even if the moon's motions were

as supposed. The moon is not connected with the earth as the apple is

with the orange in the illustrative case. If the apple, without rigid

connection with the orange, were carried round the orange so as to move

precisely as if it were so connected, it would unquestionably have to

rotate on its axis, as any one will find who may try the experiment.

Thus for the straight rod thrust through the apple substitute a straight

horizontal bar carrying a small basin of water in which the apple

floats. Sway the bar steadily and slowly round, and it will be found (if

a mark is placed on the apple) that the apple no longer keeps the same

face towards the centre of motion; but that, to cause it to do so, a

slow motion of rotation must be communicated to the apple in the same

direction and at the same rate (neglecting the effects of the friction

of the water against the sides of the basin) as the bar is rotating. In

my 'Treatise on the Moon' I have described and pictured a simple

apparatus by which this experiment may easily be made.

But, of course, such experiments are not essential to the argument by

which the paradox is overthrown. This argument simply is, that the moon

as she travels on her orbit round the sun--the real centre of her

motion--turns every part of her equator in succession towards him once

in a lunar month. At the time of new moon the sun illuminates the face

of the moon turned from us; at the time of full moon he illuminates the

face which has been gradually brought round to him as the moon has

passed through her first two quarters. As she passes onwards to new

moon again, the face we see is gradually turned from him until he

shines full upon the other face. And so on during successive lunations.

This could not happen unless the moon rotated. Again, if we lived on the

moon we should find the heaven of the fixed stars turning round from

east to west once in rather more than twenty-seven days; and unless we

supposed, as we should probably do for a long time, that our small world

was the centre of the universe, and that the stars turned round it, we

should be compelled to admit that it was turning on its own axis from

west to east once in the time just named. There would be no escape. The

mere fact that all the time the stars thus seemed to be turning round

the moon, the earth would not so seem to move, but would lie always in

the same direction, would in no sort help to remove the difficulty.

Lunarian paradoxists would probably argue that she was in some way

rigidly connected with the moon; but even they would never think of

arguing that their world did not turn on its axis, _unless_ they

maintained that it was the centre of the universe. This, I think, they

would very probably do; but as yet terrestrial paradoxists have not, I

believe, maintained this hypothesis. I once asked Mr. Perigal whether

that was the true theory of the universe--the moon central, the earth,

sun, and heavens carried round her. He admitted that his objections to

accepted views were by no means limited to the moon's rotation; and, if

I remember rightly, he said that the idea I had thrown out in jest was

nearer the truth than I thought, or used words to that effect. But as

yet the theory has not been definitely enunciated that the moon is the

boss of the universe.

Comets, as already mentioned, have been the subjects of paradoxes

innumerable; but as yet comets have been so little understood, even by

astronomers, that paradoxes respecting them cannot be so readily dealt

with as those relating to well-established facts. Among thoroughly

paradoxical ideas respecting comets, however, may be mentioned one whose

author is a mathematician of well-deserved repute--Professor Tait's

'Sea-Bird Theory' of Comets' Tails. According to this theory, the rapid

formation of long tails and the rapid changes of their position may be

explained on the same principle that we explain the rapid change of

appearance of a flight of sea-birds, when, from having been in a

position where the eye looks athwart it, the flight assumes a position

where the eye looks at it edgewise. In the former position it is

scarcely visible (when at a distance), in the latter it is seen as a

well-defined streak; and as a very slight change of position of each

bird may often suffice to render an extensive flight thus visible

throughout its entire length, which but a few moments before had been

invisible, so the entire length of a comet's tail may be brought into

view, and apparently be formed in a few hours, through some

comparatively slight displacement of the individual meteorites composing

it.

This paradox--for paradox it unquestionably is--affords a curious

illustration of the influence which mathematical power has on the minds

of men. Every one knows that Professor Tait has potential mathematical

energy competent to dispose, in a very short time, of all the

difficulties involved in his theory; therefore few seem to inquire

whether this potential energy has ever been called into action. It is

singular, too, that other mathematicians of great eminence have been

content to take the theory on trust. Thus Sir W. Thomson, at the meeting

of the British Association at Edinburgh, described the theory as

disposing easily of the difficulties presented by Newton's comet in

1680. Glashier, in his translation of Guillemin's 'Les Cometes,' speaks

of the theory as one not improbably correct, though only to be

established by rigid investigation of the mathematical problems

involved.

In reality, not five minutes' inquiry is needed to show any one

acquainted with the history of long-tailed comets that Tait's theory is

quite untenable. Take Newton's comet. It had a tail ninety millions of

miles long, extending directly from the sun as the comet approached him,

and seen, four days later, extending to the same distance, and still

directly from the sun, as the comet receded from him in an entirely

different direction. According to Tait's sea-bird theory, the earth was

at both these epochs in the plane of a sheet of meteorites forming the

tail; but on each occasion the sun also was in the same plane, for the

edge of the sheet of meteorites was seen to be directly in a line with

the sun. The comet's head, of course, was in the same plane; but three

points, not in a straight line, determine a plane. Hence we have, as the

definite result of the sea-bird theory, that the layer or stratum of

meteorites, forming the tail of Newton's comet, lay in the same plane

which contained the sun, the earth, and the comet. But the comet crossed

the ecliptic (the plane in which the earth travels round the sun)

between the epochs named, crossing it at a great angle. When crossing

it, then, the great layer of meteorites was in the plane of the

ecliptic; before crossing it the layer was greatly inclined to that

plane one way, and after crossing it the layer was greatly inclined to

that plane another way. So that we have in no way escaped the difficulty

which the sea-bird theory was intended to remove. If it was a startling

and, indeed, incredible thing that the particles along a comet's tail

should have got round in four days from the first to the second position

of the tail considered above, it is as startling and incredible that a

mighty layer of meteorites should have shifted bodily in the way

required by the sea-bird theory. Nay, there is an element in our result

which is still more startling than any of the difficulties yet

mentioned; and that is, the singular care which the great layer of

meteorites would seem to have shown to keep its plane always passing

through the earth, with which it was in no way connected. Why should

this preference have been shown by the meteor flock for our earth above

all the other members of the solar system?--seeing that the sea-bird

theory _requires_ that this comet, and not Newton's comet alone but all

others having tails, should not only be thus complaisant with respect to

our little earth, but should behave in a totally different way with

respect to every other member of the sun's family.

We can understand that, while several have been found who have applauded

the sea-bird paradox for what it _might_ do in explaining comets' tails,

its advocates have as yet not done much to reconcile it with cometic

observation.

The latest astronomical paradox published is perhaps still more

startling. It relates to the planet Venus, and is intended to explain

the appearance presented by this planet when crossing the sun's face,

or, technically, when in transit. At this time she is surrounded by a

ring of light, which appears somewhat brighter than the disc of the sun

itself. Before fully entering on the sun's face, also, the part of

Venus's globe as yet outside the sun's disc is seen to be girt round by

a ring of exceedingly bright light--so bright, indeed, that it has left

its record in photographs where the exposure was only for the small

fraction of a second allowable in the case of so intensely brilliant a

body as the sun. Astronomers have not found it difficult to explain

either peculiarity. It has been proved clearly in other ways that Venus

has an atmosphere like our own, but probably denser. As the sun is

raised into view above the horizon (after he has really passed below

the horizon plane) by the bending power of our air upon his rays, so the

bending power of Venus's air brings the sun into our view round the dark

body of the planet. But the new paradox advances a much bolder theory.

Instead of an atmosphere such as ours, Venus has a glass envelope; and

instead of a surface of earth and water, in some cases covered with

clouds, Venus has a surface shining with metallic lustre.[53]

The author of this theory, Mr. Jos. Brett, startled astronomers by

announcing, a few years ago, that with an ordinary telescope he could

see the light of the sun's corona without the aid of an eclipse, though

astronomers had observed that the delicate light of the corona fades out

of view with the first returning rays of the sun after total eclipse.

The latest paradoxist, misled by the incorrect term 'centrifugal force,'

proposes to 'modify, if not banish,' the old-fashioned astronomy. What

is called centrifugal force is in truth only inertia. In the familiar

instance of a body whirled round by a string, the breaking of the string

no more implies that an active force has pulled away the body, than the

breaking of a rope by which a weight is pulled implies that the weight

has exerted an active resistance. Of course, here again the text-books

are chiefly in fault.

Such are a few among the paradoxes of various orders by which

astronomers, like the students of other sciences, have been from time to

time amused. It is not altogether, as it may seem at first sight, 'a sin

against the twenty-four hours' to consider such matters; for much may be

learned not only from the study of the right road in science, but from

observing where and how men may go astray. I know, indeed, few more

useful exercises for the learner than to examine a few paradoxes, when

leisure serves, and to consider how, if left to his own guidance, he

would confute them.

XI.

_ON SOME ASTRONOMICAL MYTHS._

The expression 'astronomical myth' has recently been used, on the

title-page of a translation from the French, as synonymous with false

systems of astronomy. It is not, however, in that sense that I here use

it. The history of astronomy presents the records of some rather

perplexing observations, not confirmed by later researches, but yet not

easily to be explained away or accounted for. Such observations Humboldt

described as belonging to the myths of an uncritical period; and it is

in that sense that I employ the term 'astronomical myth' in this essay.

I propose briefly to describe and comment on some of the more

interesting of these observations, which, in whatever sense they are to

be interpreted, will be found to afford a useful lesson.

It is hardly necessary, perhaps, to point out that the cases which I

include here I regard as really cases in which astronomers have been

deceived by illusory observations. Other students of astronomy may

differ from me as respects some of these instances. I do not wish to

dogmatise, but simply to describe the facts as I see them, and the

impressions which I draw from them. Those who view the facts differently

will not, I think, have to complain that I have incorrectly described

them.

At the outset, let me point out that some observations which were for a

long time regarded as mythical have proved to be exact. For instance,

when as yet very few telescopes existed, and those very feeble,

Galileo's discovery of moons travelling round Jupiter was rejected as an

illusion for which Satan received the chief share of credit. There is an

amusing and yet in one aspect almost pathetic reference to this in his

account of his earlier observations of Saturn. He had seen the planet

apparently attended on either side by two smaller planets, as if helping

old Saturn along. But on December 4, 1612,[54] turning his telescope on

the planet, he found to his infinite amazement not a trace of the

companion planets could be seen; there in the field of view of his

telescope was the golden-tinted disc of the planet as smoothly rounded

as the disc of Mars or Jupiter. 'What,' he wrote, 'is to be said

concerning so strange a metamorphosis? Are the two lesser stars consumed

after the manner of the solar spots? Have they vanished or suddenly

fled? Has Saturn, perhaps, devoured his children? Or were the

appearances, indeed, illusion or fraud with which the glasses have so

long deceived me as well as many others to whom I have shown them? Now,

perhaps, is the time come to revive the well-nigh withered hopes of

those who, guided by more profound contemplations, have discovered the

fallacy of the new observations, and demonstrated the utter

impossibility of the existence of those things which the telescope

appears to show. I do not know what to say in a case so surprising, so

unlooked for, and so novel. The shortness of the time, the unexpected

nature of the event, the weakness of my understanding, and the fear of

being mistaken, have greatly confounded me.' We now know that these

observations, as well as those made soon after by Hevelius, though

wrongly interpreted, were correct enough. Nay, we know that if either

Galileo or Hevelius had been at the pains to reason out the meaning of

the alternate visibility and disappearance of objects looking like

attendant planets, they must have anticipated the discovery made in 1656

by Huyghens, that Saturn's globe is girdled about by a thin flat ring so

vast that, if a score of globes like our earth were set side by side,

the range of that row of worlds would be less than the span of the

Saturnian ring system.

There is a reference in Galileo's letter to the solar spots; 'Are the

two lesser stars,' he says, 'consumed after the manner of the solar

spots?' When he thus wrote the spots were among the myths or fables of

astronomy, and an explanation was offered, by those who did not reject

them utterly, which has taken its place among forsaken doctrines, those

broken toys of astronomers. It is said that when Scheiner, himself a

Jesuit, communicated to the Provincial of the Jesuits his discovery of

the spots on the sun, the latter, a staunch Aristotelian, cautioned him

not to see these things. 'I have read Aristotle's writings from

beginning to end many times,' he said, 'and I can assure you I have

nowhere found in them anything similar to what you mention' [amazing

circumstances!] 'Go, therefore, my son, tranquillise yourself; be

assured that what you take for spots on the sun are the faults of your

glasses or your eyes.' As the idea was obviously inadmissible that a

celestial body could be marked by spots, the theory was started that the

dark objects apparently seen on the sun's body were in reality small

planets revolving round the sun, and a contest arose for the possession

of these mythical planets. Tarde maintained that they should be called

_Astra Borbonia_, in honour of the royal family of France; but C.

Malapert insisted that they should be called _Sidera Austriaca_.

Meantime the outside world laughed at the spots, and their names, and

the astronomers who were thought to have invented both. 'Fabritius puts

only three spots,' wrote Burton in his 'Anatomy of Melancholy,' 'and

those in the sun; Apelles 15, and those without the sun, floating like

the Cyanean Isles in the Euxine Sea. Tarde the Frenchman hath observed

33, and those neither spots nor clouds as Galileus supposed, but planets

concentric with the sun, and not far from him, with regular motions.

Christopher Schemer' [a significant way of spelling Scheiner's name], 'a

German Suisser Jesuit, divides them _in maculas et faculas_, and will

have them to be fixed _in solis superficie_ and to absolve their

periodical and regular motions in 27 or 28 dayes; holding withall the

rotation of the sun upon his centre, and are all so confident that they

have made schemes and tables of their motions. The Hollander censures

all; and thus they disagree among themselves, old and new,

irreconcilable in their opinions; thus Aristarchus, thus Hipparchus,

thus Ptolomaeus, thus Albategnius, etc., with their followers, vary and

determine of these celestial orbs and bodies; and so whilst these men

contend about the sun and moon, like the philosophers in Lucian, it is

to be feared the sun and moon will hide themselves, and be as much

offended as she was with those, and send another message to Jupiter, by

some new-fangled Icaromenippus, to make an end of all these curious

controversies, and scatter them abroad.'

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