CHAPTER XVIII.

OBSERVATION.

ALL knowledge proceeds originally from experience. Using the name in a

wide sense, we may say that experience comprehends all that we *feel*,

externally or internally--the aggregate of the impressions which we

receive through the various apertures of perception--the aggregate

consequently of what is in the mind, except so far as some portions

of knowledge may be the reasoned equivalents of other portions. As

the word experience expresses, we *go through* much in life, and the

impressions gathered intentionally or unintentionally afford the

materials from which the active powers of the mind evolve science.

No small part of the experience actually employed in science is

acquired without any distinct purpose. We cannot use the eyes without

gathering some facts which may prove useful. A great science has in

many cases risen from an accidental observation. Erasmus Bartholinus

thus first discovered double refraction in Iceland spar; Galvani

noticed the twitching of a frog’s leg; Oken was struck by the form of

a vertebra; Malus accidentally examined light reflected from distant

windows with a double refracting substance; and Sir John Herschel’s

attention was drawn to the peculiar appearance of a solution of quinine

sulphate. In earlier times there must have been some one who first

noticed the strange behaviour of a loadstone, or the unaccountable

motions produced by amber. As a general rule we shall not know in what

direction to look for a great body of phenomena widely different from

those familiar to us. Chance then must give us the starting point; but

one accidental observation well used may lead us to make thousands of

observations in an intentional and organised manner, and thus a science

may be gradually worked out from the smallest opening.

*Distinction of Observation and Experiment.*

It is usual to say that the two sources of experience are Observation

and Experiment. When we merely note and record the phenomena which

occur around us in the ordinary course of nature we are said *to

observe*. When we change the course of nature by the intervention

of our muscular powers, and thus produce unusual combinations and

conditions of phenomena, we are said *to experiment*. Herschel justly

remarked[300] that we might properly call these two modes of experience

*passive and active observation*. In both cases we must certainly

employ our senses to observe, and an experiment differs from a mere

observation in the fact that we more or less influence the character

of the events which we observe. Experiment is thus observation *plus*

alteration of conditions.

[300] *Preliminary Discourse on the Study of Natural Philosophy*,

p. 77.

It may readily be seen that we pass upwards by insensible gradations

from pure observation to determinate experiment. When the earliest

astronomers simply noticed the ordinary motions of the sun, moon, and

planets upon the face of the starry heavens, they were pure observers.

But astronomers now select precise times and places for important

observations of stellar parallax, or the transits of planets. They make

the earth’s orbit the basis of a well arranged *natural experiment*,

as it were, and take well considered advantage of motions which they

cannot control. Meteorology might seem to be a science of pure

observation, because we cannot possibly govern the changes of weather

which we record. Nevertheless we may ascend mountains or rise in

balloons, like Gay-Lussac and Glaisher, and may thus so vary the points

of observation as to render our procedure experimental. We are wholly

unable either to produce or prevent earth-currents of electricity,

but when we construct long lines of telegraph, we gather such strong

currents during periods of disturbance as to render them capable of

easy observation.

The best arranged systems of observation, however, would fail to give

us a large part of the facts which we now possess. Many processes

continually going on in nature are so slow and gentle as to escape

our powers of observation. Lavoisier remarked that the decomposition

of water must have been constantly proceeding in nature, although its

possibility was unknown till his time.[301] No substance is wholly

destitute of magnetic or diamagnetic powers; but it required all the

experimental skill of Faraday to prove that iron and a few other

metals had no monopoly of these powers. Accidental observation long

ago impressed upon men’s minds the phenomena of lightning, and the

attractive properties of amber. Experiment only could have shown that

phenomena so diverse in magnitude and character were manifestations of

the same agent. To observe with accuracy and convenience we must have

agents under our control, so as to raise or lower their intensity,

to stop or set them in action at will. Just as Smeaton found it

requisite to create an artificial and governable supply of wind for

his investigation of windmills, so we must have governable supplies of

light, heat, electricity, muscular force, or whatever other agents we

are examining.

[301] Lavoisier’s *Elements of Chemistry*, translated by Kerr, 3rd

ed. p. 148.

It is hardly needful to point out too that on the earth’s surface we

live under nearly constant conditions of gravity, temperature, and

atmospheric pressure, so that if we are to extend our inferences to

other parts of the universe where conditions are widely different, we

must be prepared to imitate those conditions on a small scale here.

We must have intensely high and low temperatures; we must vary the

density of gases from approximate vacuum upwards; we must subject

liquids and solids to pressures or strains of almost unlimited amount.

*Mental Conditions of Correct Observation.*

Every observation must in a certain sense be true, for the observing

and recording of an event is in itself an event. But before we proceed

to deal with the supposed meaning of the record, and draw inferences

concerning the course of nature, we must take care to ascertain that

the character and feelings of the observer are not to a great extent

the phenomena recorded. The mind of man, as Francis Bacon said, is

like an uneven mirror, and does not reflect the events of nature

without distortion. We need hardly take notice of intentionally false

observations, nor of mistakes arising from defective memory, deficient

light, and so forth. Even where the utmost fidelity and care are used

in observing and recording, tendencies to error exist, and fallacious

opinions arise in consequence.

It is difficult to find persons who can with perfect fairness register

facts for and against their own peculiar views. Among uncultivated

observers the tendency to remark favourable and forget unfavourable

events is so great, that no reliance can be placed upon their supposed

observations. Thus arises the enduring fallacy that the changes of the

weather coincide in some way with the changes of the moon, although

exact and impartial registers give no countenance to the fact. The

whole race of prophets and quacks live on the overwhelming effect of

one success, compared with hundreds of failures which are unmentioned

and forgotten. As Bacon says, “Men mark when they hit, and never mark

when they miss.” And we should do well to bear in mind the ancient

story, quoted by Bacon, of one who in Pagan times was shown a temple

with a picture of all the persons who had been saved from shipwreck,

after paying their vows. When asked whether he did not now acknowledge

the power of the gods, “Ay,” he answered; “but where are they painted

that were drowned after their vows?”

If indeed we could estimate the amount of *bias* existing in any

particular observations, it might be treated like one of the forces

of the problem, and the true course of external nature might still be

rendered apparent. But the feelings of an observer are usually too

indeterminate, so that when there is reason to suspect considerable

bias, rejection is the only safe course. As regards facts casually

registered in past times, the capacity and impartiality of the observer

are so little known that we should spare no pains to replace these

statements by a new appeal to nature. An indiscriminate medley of

truth and absurdity, such as Francis Bacon collected in his *Natural

History*, is wholly unsuited to the purposes of science. But of course

when records relate to past events like eclipses, conjunctions,

meteoric phenomena, earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, changes of sea

margins, the existence of now extinct animals, the migrations of

tribes, remarkable customs, &c., we must make use of statements however

unsatisfactory, and must endeavour to verify them by the comparison of

independent records or traditions.

When extensive series of observations have to be made, as in

astronomical, meteorological, or magnetical observatories,

trigonometrical surveys, and extensive chemical or physical researches,

it is an advantage that the numerical work should be executed by

assistants who are not interested in, and are perhaps unaware of, the

expected results. The record is thus rendered perfectly impartial.

It may even be desirable that those who perform the purely routine

work of measurement and computation should be unacquainted with the

principles of the subject. The great table of logarithms of the

French Revolutionary Government was worked out by a staff of sixty or

eighty computers, most of whom were acquainted only with the rules of

arithmetic, and worked under the direction of skilled mathematicians;

yet their calculations were usually found more correct than those of

persons more deeply versed in mathematics.[302] In the Indian Ordnance

Survey the actual measurers were selected so that they should not have

sufficient skill to falsify their results without detection.

[302] Babbage, *Economy of Manufactures*, p. 194.

Both passive observation and experimentation must, however, be

generally conducted by persons who know for what they are to look. It

is only when excited and guided by the hope of verifying a theory that

the observer will notice many of the most important points; and, where

the work is not of a routine character, no assistant can supersede the

mind-directed observations of the philosopher. Thus the successful

investigator must combine diverse qualities; he must have clear notions

of the result he expects and confidence in the truth of his theories,

and yet he must have that candour and flexibility of mind which enable

him to accept unfavourable results and abandon mistaken views.

*Instrumental and Sensual Conditions of Observation.*

In every observation one or more of the senses must be employed, and

we should ever bear in mind that the extent of our knowledge may be

limited by the power of the sense concerned. What we learn of the world

only forms the lower limit of what is to be learned, and, for all that

we can tell, the processes of nature may infinitely surpass in variety

and complexity those which are capable of coming within our means of

observation. In some cases inference from observed phenomena may make

us indirectly aware of what cannot be directly felt, but we can never

be sure that we thus acquire any appreciable fraction of the knowledge

that might be acquired.

It is a strange reflection that space may be filled with dark wandering

stars, whose existence could not have yet become in any way known to

us. The planets have already cooled so far as to be no longer luminous,

and it may well be that other stellar bodies of various size have

fallen into the same condition. From the consideration, indeed, of

variable and extinguished stars, Laplace inferred that there probably

exist opaque bodies as great and perhaps as numerous as those we

see.[303] Some of these dark stars might ultimately become known to

us, either by reflecting light, or more probably by their gravitating

effects upon luminous stars. Thus if one member of a double star

were dark, we could readily detect its existence, and even estimate

its size, position, and motions, by observing those of its visible

companion. It was a favourite notion of Huyghens that there may exist

stars and vast universes so distant that their light has never yet

had time to reach our eyes; and we must also bear in mind that light

may possibly suffer slow extinction in space, so that there is more

than one way in which an absolute limit to the powers of telescopic

discovery may exist.

[303] *System of the World*, translated by Harte, vol. ii. p. 335.

There are natural limits again to the power of our senses in detecting

undulations of various kinds. It is commonly said that vibrations of

more than 38,000 strokes per second are not audible as sound; and

as some ears actually do hear sounds of much higher pitch, even two

octaves higher than what other ears can detect, it is exceedingly

probable that there are incessant vibrations which we cannot call sound

because they are never heard. Insects may communicate by such acute

sounds, constituting a language inaudible to us; and the remarkable

agreement apparent among bodies of ants or bees might thus perhaps be

explained. Nay, as Fontenelle long ago suggested in his scientific

romance, there may exist unlimited numbers of senses or modes of

perception which we can never feel, though Darwin’s theory would render

it probable that any useful means of knowledge in an ancestor would

be developed and improved in the descendants. We might doubtless have

been endowed with a sense capable of feeling electric phenomena with

acuteness, so that the positive or negative state of charge of a body

could be at once estimated. The absence of such a sense is probably due

to its comparative uselessness.

Heat undulations are subject to the same considerations. It is now

apparent that what we call light is the affection of the eye by certain

vibrations, the less rapid of which are invisible and constitute the

dark rays of radiant heat, in detecting which we must substitute

the thermometer or the thermopile for the eye. At the other end of

the spectrum, again, the ultra-violet rays are invisible, and only

indirectly brought to our knowledge in the phenomena of fluorescence or

photo-chemical action. There is no reason to believe that at either end

of the spectrum an absolute limit has yet been reached.

Just as our knowledge of the stellar universe is limited by the

power of the telescope and other conditions, so our knowledge of the

minute world has its limit in the powers and optical conditions of

the microscope. There was a time when it would have been a reasonable

induction that vegetables are motionless, and animals alone endowed

with power of locomotion. We are astonished to discover by the

microscope that minute plants are if anything more active than

minute animals. We even find that mineral substances seem to lose

their inactive character and dance about with incessant motion when

reduced to sufficiently minute particles, at least when suspended

in a non-conducting medium.[304] Microscopists will meet a natural

limit to observation when the minuteness of the objects examined

becomes comparable to the length of light undulations, and the extreme

difficulty already encountered in determining the forms of minute marks

on Diatoms appears to be due to this cause. According to Helmholtz the

smallest distance which can be accurately defined depends upon the

interference of light passing through the centres of the bright spaces.

With a theoretically perfect microscope and a dry lense the smallest

visible object would not be less than one 80,000th part of an inch in

red light.

[304] This curious phenomenon, which I propose to call *pedesis*, or

the *pedetic movement*, from πηδόω, to jump, is carefully described

in my paper published in the *Quarterly Journal of Science* for

April, 1878, vol. viii. (N.S.) p. 167. See also *Proceedings of the

Literary and Philosophical Society of Manchester*, 25th January,

1870, vol. ix. p. 78, *Nature*, 22nd August, 1878, vol. xviii.

p. 440, or the *Quarterly Journal of Science*, vol. viii. (N.S.)

p. 514.

Of the errors likely to arise in estimating quantities by the senses I

have already spoken, but there are some cases in which we actually see

things differently from what they are. A jet of water appears to be a

continuous thread, when it is really a wonderfully organised succession

of small and large drops, oscillating in form. The drops fall so

rapidly that their impressions upon the eye run into each other, and in

order to see the separate drops we require some device for giving an

instantaneous view.

One insuperable limit to our powers of observation arises from the

impossibility of following and identifying the ultimate atoms of

matter. One atom of oxygen is probably undistinguishable from another

atom; only by keeping a certain volume of oxygen safely inclosed in a

bottle can we assure ourselves of its identity; allow it to mix with

other oxygen, and we lose all power of identification. Accordingly

we seem to have no means of directly proving that every gas is in a

constant state of diffusion of every part into every part. We can only

infer this to be the case from observing the behaviour of distinct

gases which we can distinguish in their course, and by reasoning on the

grounds of molecular theory.[305]

[305] Maxwell, *Theory of Heat*, p. 301.

*External Conditions of Correct Observation.*

Before we proceed to draw inferences from any series of recorded facts,

we must take care to ascertain perfectly, if possible, the external

conditions under which the facts are brought to our notice. Not only

may the observing mind be prejudiced and the senses defective, but

there may be circumstances which cause one kind of event to come more

frequently to our notice than another. The comparative numbers of

objects of different kinds existing may in any degree differ from the

numbers which come to our notice. This difference must if possible be

taken into account before we make any inferences.

There long appeared to be a strong presumption that all comets moved

in elliptic orbits, because no comet had been proved to move in any

other kind of path. The theory of gravitation admitted of the existence

of comets moving in hyperbolic orbits, and the question arose whether

they were really non-existent or were only beyond the bounds of easy

observation. From reasonable suppositions Laplace calculated that

the probability was at least 6000 to 1 against a comet which comes

within the planetary system sufficiently to be visible at the earth’s

surface, presenting an orbit which could be discriminated from a very

elongated ellipse or parabola in the part of its orbit within the reach

of our telescopes.[306] In short, the chances are very much in favour

of our seeing elliptic rather than hyperbolic comets. Laplace’s views

have been confirmed by the discovery of six hyperbolic comets, which

appeared in the years 1729, 1771, 1774, 1818, 1840, and 1843,[307] and

as only about 800 comets altogether have been recorded, the proportion

of hyperbolic ones is quite as large as should be expected.

[306] Laplace, *Essai Philosophique*, p. 59. Todhunter’s *History*,

pp. 491–494.

[307] Chambers’ *Astronomy*, 1st ed. p. 203.

When we attempt to estimate the numbers of objects which may have

existed, we must make large allowances for the limited sphere of our

observations. Probably not more than 4000 or 5000 comets have been seen

in historical times, but making allowance for the absence of observers

in the southern hemisphere, and for the small probability that we see

any considerable fraction of those which are in the neighbourhood of

our system, we must accept Kepler’s opinion, that there are more comets

in the regions of space than fishes in the depths of the ocean. When

like calculations are made concerning the numbers of meteors visible to

us, it is astonishing to find that the number of meteors entering the

earth’s atmosphere in every twenty-four hours is probably not less than

400,000,000, of which 13,000 exist in every portion of space equal to

that filled by the earth.

Serious fallacies may arise from overlooking the inevitable conditions

under which the records of past events are brought to our notice.

Thus it is only the durable objects manufactured by former races of

men, such as flint implements, which can have come to our notice as a

general rule. The comparative abundance of iron and bronze articles

used by an ancient nation must not be supposed to be coincident with

their comparative abundance in our museums, because bronze is far the

more durable. There is a prevailing fallacy that our ancestors built

more strongly than we do, arising from the fact that the more fragile

structures have long since crumbled away. We have few or no relics of

the habitations of the poorer classes among the Greeks or Romans, or in

fact of any past race; for the temples, tombs, public buildings, and

mansions of the wealthier classes alone endure. There is an immense

expanse of past events necessarily lost to us for ever, and we must

generally look upon records or relics as exceptional in their character.

The same considerations apply to geological relics. We could not

generally expect that animals would be preserved unless as regards the

bones, shells, strong integuments, or other hard and durable parts. All

the infusoria and animals devoid of mineral framework have probably

perished entirely, distilled perhaps into oils. It has been pointed

out that the peculiar character of some extinct floras may be due to

the unequal preservation of different families of plants. By various

accidents, however, we gain glimpses of a world that is usually lost

to us--as by insects embedded in amber, the great mammoth preserved in

ice, mummies, casts in solid material like that of the Roman soldier at

Pompeii, and so forth.

We should also remember, that just as there may be conjunctions of the

heavenly bodies that can have happened only once or twice in the period

of history, so remarkable terrestrial conjunctions may take place.

Great storms, earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, landslips, floods,

irruptions of the sea, may, or rather must, have occurred, events of

such unusual magnitude and such extreme rarity that we can neither

expect to witness them nor readily to comprehend their effects. It is

a great advantage of the study of probabilities, as Laplace himself

remarked, to make us mistrust the extent of our knowledge, and pay

proper regard to the probability that events would come within the

sphere of our observations.

*Apparent Sequence of Events.*

De Morgan has excellently pointed out[308] that there are no less than

four modes in which one event may seem to follow or be connected with

another, without being really so. These involve mental, sensual, and

external causes of error, and I will briefly state and illustrate them.

[308] *Essay on Probabilities*, Cabinet Cyclopædia, p. 121.

Instead of A causing B, it may be *our perception of A that causes B*.

Thus it is that prophecies, presentiments, and the devices of sorcery

and witchcraft often work their own ends. A man dies on the day which

he has always regarded as his last, from his own fears of the day. An

incantation effects its purpose, because care is taken to frighten the

intended victim, by letting him know his fate. In all such cases the

mental condition is the cause of apparent coincidence.

In a second class of cases, *the event A may make our perception of

B follow, which would otherwise happen without being perceived*.

Thus it was believed to be the result of investigation that more

comets appeared in hot than cold summers. No account was taken of

the fact that hot summers would be comparatively cloudless, and

afford better opportunities for the discovery of comets. Here the

disturbing condition is of a purely external character. Certain ancient

philosophers held that the moon’s rays were cold-producing, mistaking

the cold caused by radiation into space for an effect of the moon,

which is more likely to be visible at a time when the absence of clouds

permits radiation to proceed.

In a third class of cases, *our perception of A may make our perception

of B follow*. The event B may be constantly happening, but our

attention may not be drawn to it except by our observing A. This case

seems to be illustrated by the fallacy of the moon’s influence on

clouds. The origin of this fallacy is somewhat complicated. In the

first place, when the sky is densely clouded the moon would not be

visible at all; it would be necessary for us to see the full moon in

order that our attention should be strongly drawn to the fact, and this

would happen most often on those nights when the sky is cloudless. Mr.

W. Ellis,[309] moreover, has ingeniously pointed out that there is a

general tendency for clouds to disperse at the commencement of night,

which is the time when the full moon rises. Thus the change of the sky

and the rise of the full moon are likely to attract attention mutually,

and the coincidence in time suggests the relation of cause and effect.

Mr. Ellis proves from the results of observations at the Greenwich

Observatory that the moon possesses no appreciable power of the kind

supposed, and yet it is remarkable that so sound an observer as Sir

John Herschel was convinced of the connection. In his “Results of

Observations at the Cape of Good Hope,”[310] he mentions many evenings

when a full moon occurred with a peculiarly clear sky.

[309] *Philosophical Magazine*, 4th Series (1867), vol. xxxiv. p. 64.

[310] See *Notes to Measures of Double Stars*, 1204, 1336, 1477,

1686, 1786, 1816, 1835, 1929, 2081, 2186, pp. 265, &c. See also

Herschel’s *Familiar Lectures on Scientific Subjects*, p. 147, and

*Outlines of Astronomy*, 7th ed. p. 285.

There is yet a fourth class of cases, in which *B is really the

antecedent event, but our perception of A, which is a consequence

of B, may be necessary to bring about our perception of B*. There

can be no doubt, for instance, that upward and downward currents are

continually circulating in the lowest stratum of the atmosphere during

the day-time; but owing to the transparency of the atmosphere we have

no evidence of their existence until we perceive cumulous clouds, which

are the consequence of such currents. In like manner an interfiltration

of bodies of air in the higher parts of the atmosphere is probably in

nearly constant progress, but unless threads of cirrous cloud indicate

these motions we remain ignorant of their occurrence.[311] The highest

strata of the atmosphere are wholly imperceptible to us, except when

rendered luminous by auroral currents of electricity, or by the passage

of meteoric stones. Most of the visible phenomena of comets probably

arise from some substance which, existing previously invisible, becomes

condensed or electrified suddenly into a visible form. Sir John

Herschel attempted to explain the production of comet tails in this

manner by evaporation and condensation.[312]

[311] Jevons, *On the Cirrous Form of Cloud*, Philosophical Magazine,

July, 1857, 4th Series, vol. xiv. p. 22.

[312] *Astronomy*, 4th ed. p. 358.

*Negative Arguments from Non-observation.*

From what has been suggested in preceding sections, it will plainly

appear that the non-observation of a phenomenon is not generally to

be taken as proving its non-occurrence. As there are sounds which we

cannot hear, rays of heat which we cannot feel, multitudes of worlds

which we cannot see, and myriads of minute organisms of which not the

most powerful microscope can give us a view, we must as a general rule

interpret our experience in an affirmative sense only. Accordingly

when inferences have been drawn from the non-occurrence of particular

facts or objects, more extended and careful examination has often

proved their falsity. Not many years since it was quite a well credited

conclusion in geology that no remains of man were found in connection

with those of extinct animals, or in any deposit not actually at

present in course of formation. Even Babbage accepted this conclusion

as strongly confirmatory of the Mosaic accounts.[313] While the opinion

was yet universally held, flint implements had been found disproving

such a conclusion, and overwhelming evidence of man’s long-continued

existence has since been forthcoming. At the end of the last century,

when Herschel had searched the heavens with his powerful telescopes,

there seemed little probability that planets yet remained unseen

within the orbit of Jupiter. But on the first day of this century such

an opinion was overturned by the discovery of Ceres, and more than a

hundred other small planets have since been added to the lists of the

planetary system.

[313] Babbage, *Ninth Bridgewater Treatise*, p. 67.

The discovery of the Eozoön Canadense in strata of much greater age

than any previously known to contain organic remains, has given a shock

to groundless opinions concerning the origin of organic forms; and

the oceanic dredging expeditions under Dr. Carpenter and Sir Wyville

Thomson have modified some opinions of geologists by disclosing the

continued existence of forms long supposed to be extinct. These and

many other cases which might be quoted show the extremely unsafe

character of negative inductions.

But it must not be supposed that negative arguments are of no force and

value. The earth’s surface has been sufficiently searched to render it

highly improbable that any terrestrial animals of the size of a camel

remain to be discovered. It is believed that no new large animal has

been encountered in the last eighteen or twenty centuries,[314] and

the probability that if existent they would have been seen, increases

the probability that they do not exist. We may with somewhat less

confidence discredit the existence of any large unrecognised fish, or

sea animals, such as the alleged sea-serpent. But, as we descend to

forms of smaller size negative evidence loses weight from the less

probability of our seeing smaller objects. Even the strong induction in

favour of the four-fold division of the animal kingdom into Vertebrata,

Annulosa, Mollusca, and Cœlenterata, may break down by the discovery

of intermediate or anomalous forms. As civilisation spreads over the

surface of the earth, and unexplored tracts are gradually diminished,

negative conclusions will increase in force; but we have much to learn

yet concerning the depths of the ocean, almost wholly unexamined as

they are, and covering three-fourths of the earth’s surface.

[314] Cuvier, *Essay on the Theory of the Earth*, translation, p. 61,

&c.

In geology there are many statements to which considerable probability

attaches on account of the large extent of the investigations already

made, as, for instance, that true coal is found only in rocks of a

particular geological epoch; that gold occurs in secondary and tertiary

strata only in exceedingly small quantities,[315] probably derived

from the disintegration of earlier rocks. In natural history negative

conclusions are exceedingly treacherous and unsatisfactory. The utmost

patience will not enable a microscopist or the observer of any living

thing to watch the behaviour of the organism under all circumstances

continuously for a great length of time. There is always a chance

therefore that the critical act or change may take place when the

observer’s eyes are withdrawn. This certainly happens in some cases;

for though the fertilisation of orchids by agency of insects is proved

as well as any fact in natural history, Mr. Darwin has never been

able by the closest watching to detect an insect in the performance

of the operation. Mr. Darwin has himself adopted one conclusion on

negative evidence, namely, that the *Orchis pyramidalis* and certain

other orchidaceous flowers secrete no nectar. But his caution and

unwearying patience in verifying the conclusion give an impressive

lesson to the observer. For twenty-three consecutive days, as he tells

us, he examined flowers in all states of the weather, at all hours, in

various localities. As the secretion in other flowers sometimes takes

place rapidly and might happen at early dawn, that inconvenient hour

of observation was specially adopted. Flowers of different ages were

subjected to irritating vapours, to moisture, and to every condition

likely to bring on the secretion; and only after invariable failure of

this exhaustive inquiry was the barrenness of the nectaries assumed to

be proved.[316]

[315] Murchison’s *Siluria*, 1st ed. p. 432.

[316] Darwin’s *Fertilisation of Orchids*, p. 48.

In order that a negative argument founded on the non-observation of

an object shall have any considerable force, it must be shown to be

probable that the object if existent would have been observed, and it

is this probability which defines the value of the negative conclusion.

The failure of astronomers to see the planet Vulcan, supposed by some

to exist within Mercury’s orbit, is no sufficient disproof of its

existence. Similarly it would be very difficult, or even impossible, to

disprove the existence of a second satellite of small size revolving

round the earth. But if any person make a particular assertion,

assigning place and time, then observation will either prove or

disprove the alleged fact. If it is true that when a French observer

professed to have seen a planet on the sun’s face, an observer in

Brazil was carefully scrutinising the sun and failed to see it, we have

a negative proof. False facts in science, it has been well said, are

more mischievous than false theories. A false theory is open to every

person’s criticism, and is ever liable to be judged by its accordance

with facts. But a false or grossly erroneous assertion of a fact

often stands in the way of science for a long time, because it may be

extremely difficult or even impossible to prove the falsity of what has

been once recorded.

In other sciences the force of a negative argument will often depend

upon the number of possible alternatives which may exist. It was long

believed that the quality of a musical sound as distinguished from

its pitch, must depend upon the form of the undulation, because no

other cause of it had ever been suggested or was apparently possible.

The truth of the conclusion was proved by Helmholtz, who applied a

microscope to luminous points attached to the strings of various

instruments, and thus actually observed the different modes of

undulation. In mathematics negative inductive arguments have seldom

much force, because the possible forms of expression, or the possible

combinations of lines and circles in geometry, are quite unlimited in

number. An enormous number of attempts were made to trisect the angle

by the ordinary methods of Euclid’s geometry, but their invariable

failure did not establish the impossibility of the task. This was shown

in a totally different manner, by proving that the problem involves an

irreducible cubic equation to which there could be no corresponding

plane geometrical solution.[317] This is a case of *reductio ad

absurdum*, a form of argument of a totally different character.

Similarly no number of failures to obtain a general solution of

equations of the fifth degree would establish the impossibility of the

task, but in an indirect mode, equivalent to a *reductio ad absurdum*,

the impossibility is considered to be proved.[318]

[317] Peacock, *Algebre*, vol. ii. p. 344.

[318] Ibid, p. 359. Serret, *Algèbre Supérieure*, 2nd ed. p. 304.

The principles of science · 第 2 / 14 章