ON THE ORIGIN AND SIGNIFICANCE OF GEOMETRICAL AXIOMS.

_Lecture delivered in the Docenten Verein in Heidelberg, in the year

1870._

The fact that a science can exist and can be developed as has been

the case with geometry, has always attracted the closest attention

among those who are interested in questions relating to the bases of

the theory of cognition. Of all branches of human knowledge, there is

none which, like it, has sprung as a completely armed Minerva from

the head of Jupiter; none before whose death-dealing Aegis doubt and

inconsistency have so little dared to raise their eyes. It escapes the

tedious and troublesome task of collecting experimental facts, which

is the province of the natural sciences in the strict sense of the

word; the sole form of its scientific method is deduction. Conclusion

is deduced from conclusion, and yet no one of common sense doubts but

that these geometrical principles must find their practical application

in the real world about us. Land surveying, as well as architecture,

the construction of machinery no less than mathematical physics, are

continually calculating relations of space of the most varied kind

by geometrical principles; they expect that the success of their

constructions and experiments shall agree with these calculations; and

no case is known in which this expectation has been falsified, provided

the calculations were made correctly and with sufficient data.

Indeed, the fact that geometry exists, and is capable of all this,

has always been used as a prominent example in the discussion on that

question, which forms, as it were, the centre of all antitheses of

philosophical systems, that there can be a cognition of principles

destitute of any bases drawn from experience. In the answer to Kant’s

celebrated question, ‘How are synthetical principles _a priori_

possible?’ geometrical axioms are certainly those examples which appear

to show most decisively that synthetical principles are _a priori_

possible at all. The circumstance that such principles exist, and

force themselves on our conviction, is regarded as a proof that space

is an _a priori_ mode of all external perception. It appears thereby

to postulate, for this _a priori_ form, not only the character of a

purely formal scheme of itself quite unsubstantial, in which any given

result experience would fit; but also to include certain peculiarities

of the scheme, which bring it about that only a certain content, and

one which, as it were, is strictly defined, could occupy it and be

apprehended by us.[2]

[Footnote 2: In his book, _On the Limits of Philosophy_, Mr. W. Tobias

maintains that axioms of a kind which I formerly enunciated are a

misunderstanding of Kant’s opinion. But Kant specially adduces the

axioms, that the straight line is the shortest (_Kritik der reinen

Vernunft_, Introduction, v. 2nd ed. p. 16); that space has three

dimensions (_Ibid._ part i. sect. i. § 3, p. 41); that only one

straight line is possible between two points (_Ibid._ part ii. sect.

i. ‘On the Axioms of Intuition’), as axioms which express _a priori_

the conditions of intuition by the senses. It is not here the question,

whether these axioms were originally given as intuition of space, or

whether they are only the starting-points from which the understanding

can develop such axioms _a priori_ on which my critic insists.]

It is precisely this relation of geometry to the theory of cognition

which emboldens me to speak to you on geometrical subjects in an

assembly of those who for the most part have limited their mathematical

studies to the ordinary instruction in schools. Fortunately, the amount

of geometry taught in our gymnasia will enable you to follow, at any

rate the tendency, of the principles I am about to discuss.

I intend to give you an account of a series of recent and closely

connected mathematical researches which are concerned with the

geometrical axioms, their relations to experience, with the question

whether it is logically possible to replace them by others.

Seeing that the researches in question are more immediately designed

to furnish proofs for experts in a region which, more than almost

any other, requires a higher power of abstraction, and that they are

virtually inaccessible to the non-mathematician, I will endeavour to

explain to such a one the question at issue. I need scarcely remark

that my explanation will give no proof of the correctness of the new

views. He who seeks this proof must take the trouble to study the

original researches.

Anyone who has entered the gates of the first elementary axioms of

geometry, that is, the mathematical doctrine of space, finds on his

path that unbroken chain of conclusions of which I just spoke, by which

the ever more varied and more complicated figures are brought within

the domain of law. But even in their first elements certain principles

are laid down, with respect to which geometry confesses that she cannot

prove them, and can only assume that anyone who understands the essence

of these principles will at once admit their correctness. These are the

so-called axioms.

For example, the proposition that if the shortest line drawn between

two points is called a _straight_ line, there can be only one such

straight line. Again, it is an axiom that through any three points

in space, not lying in a straight line, a plane may be drawn, i.e.

a surface which will wholly include every straight line joining any

two of its points. Another axiom, about which there has been much

discussion, affirms that through a point lying without a straight

line only one straight line can be drawn parallel to the first; two

straight lines that lie in the same plane and never meet, however far

they may be produced, being called parallel. There are also axioms that

determine the number of dimensions of space and its surfaces, lines and

points, showing how they are continuous; as in the propositions, that

a solid is bounded by a surface, a surface by a line and a line by a

point, that the point is indivisible, that by the movement of a point

a line is described, by that of a line a line or a surface, by that of

a surface a surface or a solid, but by the movement of a solid a solid

and nothing else is described.

Now what is the origin of such propositions, unquestionably true yet

incapable of proof in a science where everything else is reasoned

conclusion? Are they inherited from the divine source of our reason as

the idealistic philosophers think, or is it only that the ingenuity of

mathematicians has hitherto not been penetrating enough to find the

proof? Every new votary, coming with fresh zeal to geometry, naturally

strives to succeed where all before him have failed. And it is quite

right that each should make the trial afresh; for, as the question has

hitherto stood, it is only by the fruitlessness of one’s own efforts

that one can be convinced of the impossibility of finding a proof.

Meanwhile solitary inquirers are always from time to time appearing who

become so deeply entangled in complicated trains of reasoning that they

can no longer discover their mistakes and believe they have solved the

problem. The axiom of parallels especially has called forth a great

number of seeming demonstrations.

The main difficulty in these inquiries is, and always has been, the

readiness with which results of everyday experience become mixed up as

apparent necessities of thought with the logical processes, so long as

Euclid’s method of constructive intuition is exclusively followed in

geometry. It is in particular extremely difficult, on this method, to

be quite sure that in the steps prescribed for the demonstration we

have not involuntarily and unconsciously drawn in some most general

results of experience, which the power of executing certain parts

of the operation has already taught us practically. In drawing any

subsidiary line for the sake of his demonstration, the well-trained

geometer always asks if it is possible to draw such a line. It is

well known that problems of construction play an essential part in

the system of geometry. At first sight, these appear to be practical

operations, introduced for the training of learners; but in reality

they establish the existence of definite figures. They show that

points, straight lines, or circles such as the problem requires to be

constructed are possible under all conditions, or they determine any

exceptions that there may be. The point on which the investigations

turn, that we are about to consider, is essentially of this nature. The

foundation of all proof by Euclid’s method consists in establishing the

congruence of lines, angles, plane figures, solids, &c. To make the

congruence evident, the geometrical figures are supposed to be applied

to one another, of course without changing their form and dimensions.

That this is in fact possible we have all experienced from our earliest

youth. But, if we proceed to build necessities of thought upon this

assumption of the free translation of fixed figures, with unchanged

form, to every part of space, we must see whether the assumption does

not involve some presupposition of which no logical proof is given. We

shall see later on that it does indeed contain one of the most serious

import. But if so, every proof by congruence rests upon a fact which is

obtained from experience only.

I offer these remarks, at first only to show what difficulties attend

the complete analysis of the pre-suppositions we make, in employing

the common constructive method. We evade them when we apply, to

the investigation of principles, the analytical method of modern

algebraical geometry. The whole process of algebraical calculation

is a purely logical operation; it can yield no relation between the

quantities submitted to it that is not already contained in the

equations which give occasion for its being applied. The recent

investigations in question have accordingly been conducted almost

exclusively by means of the purely abstract methods of analytical

geometry.

However, after discovering by the abstract method what are the points

in question, we shall best get a distinct view of them by taking a

region of narrower limits than our own world of space. Let us, as we

logically may, suppose reasoning beings of only two dimensions to live

and move on the surface of some solid body. We will assume that they

have not the power of perceiving anything outside this surface, but

that upon it they have perceptions similar to ours. If such beings

worked out a geometry, they would of course assign only two dimensions

to their space. They would ascertain that a point in moving describes a

line, and that a line in moving describes a surface. But they could as

little represent to themselves what further spatial construction would

be generated by a surface moving out of itself, as we can represent

what would be generated by a solid moving out of the space we know.

By the much-abused expression ‘to represent’ or ‘to be able to think

how something happens’ I understand--and I do not see how anything

else can be understood by it without loss of all meaning--the power

of imagining the whole series of sensible impressions that would be

had in such a case. Now as no sensible impression is known relating

to such an unheard-of event, as the movement to a fourth dimension

would be to us, or as a movement to our third dimension would be to

the inhabitants of a surface, such a ‘representation’ is as impossible

as the ‘representation’ of colours would be to one born blind, if a

description of them in general terms could be given to him.

Our surface-beings would also be able to draw shortest lines in their

superficial space. These would not necessarily be straight lines in

our sense, but what are technically called _geodetic lines_ of the

surface on which they live; lines such as are described by a _tense_

thread laid along the surface, and which can slide upon it freely. I

will henceforth speak of such lines as the _straightest_ lines of any

particular surface or given space, so as to bring out their analogy

with the straight line in a plane. I hope by this expression to make

the conception more easy for the apprehension of my non-mathematical

hearers without giving rise to misconception.

Now if beings of this kind lived on an infinite plane, their geometry

would be exactly the same as our planimetry. They would affirm

that only one straight line is possible between two points; that

through a third point lying without this line only one line can be

drawn parallel to it; that the ends of a straight line never meet

though it is produced to infinity, and so on. Their space might be

infinitely extended, but even if there were limits to their movement

and perception, they would be able to represent to themselves a

continuation beyond these limits; and thus their space would appear

to them infinitely extended, just as ours does to us, although our

bodies cannot leave the earth, and our sight only reaches as far as the

visible fixed stars.

But intelligent beings of the kind supposed might also live on the

surface of a sphere. Their shortest or straightest line between two

points would then be an arc of the great circle passing through them.

Every great circle, passing through two points, is by these divided

into two parts; and if they are unequal, the shorter is certainly the

shortest line on the sphere between the two points, but also the other

or larger arc of the same great circle is a geodetic or straightest

line, _i.e._ every smaller part of it is the shortest line between its

ends. Thus the notion of the geodetic or straightest line is not quite

identical with that of the shortest line. If the two given points are

the ends of a diameter of the sphere, every plane passing through this

diameter cuts semicircles, on the surface of the sphere, all of which

are shortest lines between the ends; in which case there is an equal

number of equal shortest lines between the given points. Accordingly,

the axiom of there being only one shortest line between two points

would not hold without a certain exception for the dwellers on a sphere.

Of parallel lines the sphere-dwellers would know nothing. They would

maintain that any two straightest lines, sufficiently produced, must

finally cut not in one only but in two points. The sum of the angles of

a triangle would be always greater than two right angles, increasing

as the surface of the triangle grew greater. They could thus have

no conception of geometrical similarity between greater and smaller

figures of the same kind, for with them a greater triangle must have

different angles from a smaller one. Their space would be unlimited,

but would be found to be finite or at least represented as such.

It is clear, then, that such beings must set up a very different system

of geometrical axioms from that of the inhabitants of a plane, or from

ours with our space of three dimensions, though the logical powers

of all were the same; nor are more examples necessary to show that

geometrical axioms must vary according to the kind of space inhabited

by beings whose powers of reason are quite in conformity with ours. But

let us proceed still farther.

Let us think of reasoning beings existing on the surface of an

egg-shaped body. Shortest lines could be drawn between three points of

such a surface and a triangle constructed. But if the attempt were made

to construct congruent triangles at different parts of the surface, it

would be found that two triangles, with three pairs of equal sides,

would not have their angles equal. The sum of the angles of a triangle

drawn at the sharper pole of the body would depart farther from two

right angles than if the triangle were drawn at the blunter pole or at

the equator. Hence it appears that not even such a simple figure as

a triangle can be moved on such a surface without change of form. It

would also be found that if circles of equal radii were constructed at

different parts of such a surface (the length of the radii being always

measured by shortest lines along the surface) the periphery would be

greater at the blunter than at the sharper end.

We see accordingly that, if a surface admits of the figures lying on it

being freely moved without change of any of their lines and angles as

measured along it, the property is a special one and does not belong to

every kind of surface. The condition under which a surface possesses

this important property was pointed out by Gauss in his celebrated

treatise on the curvature of surfaces.[3] The ‘measure of curvature,’

as he called it, _i.e._ the reciprocal of the product of the greatest

and least radii of curvature, must be everywhere equal over the whole

extent of the surface.

[Footnote 3: Gauss, _Werke_, Bd. IV. p. 215, first published in

_Commentationes Sec. Reg. Scientt. Gottengensis recentiores_, vol. vi.,

1828.]

Gauss showed at the same time that this measure of curvature is not

changed if the surface is bent without distension or contraction of any

part of it. Thus we can roll up a flat sheet of paper into the form

of a cylinder, or of a cone, without any change in the dimensions of

the figures taken along the surface of the sheet. Or the hemispherical

fundus of a bladder may be rolled into a spindle-shape without altering

the dimensions on the surface. Geometry on a plane will therefore be

the same as on a cylindrical surface; only in the latter case we must

imagine that any number of layers of this surface, like the layers of a

rolled sheet of paper, lie one upon another, and that after each entire

revolution round the cylinder a new layer is reached different from the

previous ones.

These observations are necessary to give the reader a notion of a kind

of surface the geometry of which is on the whole similar to that of

the plane, but in which the axiom of parallels does not hold good.

This is a kind of curved surface which is, as it were, geometrically

the counterpart of a sphere, and which has therefore been called the

_pseudospherical surface_ by the distinguished Italian mathematician E.

Beltrami, who has investigated its properties.[4] It is a saddle-shaped

surface of which only limited pieces or strips can be connectedly

represented in our space, but which may yet be thought of as infinitely

continued in all directions, since each piece lying at the limit of

the part constructed can be conceived as drawn back to the middle of

it and then continued. The piece displaced must in the process change

its flexure but not its dimensions, just as happens with a sheet of

paper moved about a cone formed out of a plane rolled up. Such a sheet

fits the conical surface in every part, but must be more bent near the

vertex and cannot be so moved over the vertex as to be at the same time

adapted to the existing cone and to its imaginary continuation beyond.

[Footnote 4: _Saggio di Interpretazione della Geometria Non-Euclidea_,

Napoli, 1868.--_Teoria fondamentale degli Spazii di Curvatura costante,

Annali di Matematica_, Ser. II. Tom. II. pp. 232-55. Both have been

translated into French by J. Hoüel, _Annales Scientifiques de l’Ecole

Normale_, Tom V., 1869.]

Like the plane and the sphere, pseudospherical surfaces have their

measure of curvature constant, so that every piece of them can be

exactly applied to every other piece, and therefore all figures

constructed at one place on the surface can be transferred to any

other place with perfect congruity of form, and perfect equality of

all dimensions lying in the surface itself. The measure of curvature

as laid down by Gauss, which is positive for the sphere and zero for

the plane, would have a constant negative value for pseudospherical

surfaces, because the two principal curvatures of a saddle-shaped

surface have their concavity turned opposite ways.

A strip of a pseudospherical surface may, for example, be represented

by the inner surface (turned towards the axis) of a solid anchor-ring.

If the plane figure _aabb_ (Fig. 1) is made to revolve on its axis

of symmetry AB, the two arcs _ab_ will describe a pseudospherical

concave-convex surface like that of the ring. Above and below, towards

_aa_ and _bb_, the surface will turn outwards with ever-increasing

flexure, till it becomes perpendicular to the axis, and ends at the

edge with one curvature infinite. Or, again, half of a pseudospherical

surface may be rolled up into the shape of a champagne-glass (Fig. 2),

with tapering stem infinitely prolonged. But the surface is always

necessarily bounded by a sharp edge beyond which it cannot be directly

continued. Only by supposing each single piece of the edge cut loose

and drawn along the surface of the ring or glass, can it be brought to

places of different flexure, at which farther continuation of the piece

is possible.

In this way too the straightest lines of the pseudospherical surface

may be infinitely produced. They do not, like those on a sphere, return

upon themselves, but, as on a plane, only one shortest line is possible

between the two given points. The axiom of parallels does not, however,

hold good. If a straightest line is given on the surface and a point

without it, a whole pencil of straightest lines may pass through the

point, no one of which, though infinitely produced, cuts the first

line; the pencil itself being limited by two straightest lines, one

of which intersects one of the ends of the given line at an infinite

distance, the other the other end.

[Illustration: FIG. 1.]

[Illustration: FIG. 2.]

Such a system of geometry, which excluded the axiom of parallels, was

devised on Euclid’s synthetic method, as far back as the year 1829,

by N. J. Lobatchewsky, professor of mathematics at Kasan,[5] and it

was proved that this system could be carried out as consistently as

Euclid’s. It agrees exactly with the geometry of the pseudospherical

surfaces worked out recently by Beltrami.

[Footnote 5: _Principien der Geometrie_, Kasan, 1829-30.]

Thus we see that in the geometry of two dimensions a surface is marked

out as a plane, or a sphere, or a pseudospherical surface, by the

assumption that any figure may be moved about in all directions without

change of dimensions. The axiom, that there is only one shortest line

between any two points, distinguishes the plane and the pseudospherical

surface from the sphere, and the axiom of parallels marks off the

plane from the pseudosphere. These three axioms are in fact necessary

and sufficient, to define as a plane the surface to which Euclid’s

planimetry has reference, as distinguished from all other modes of

space in two dimensions.

The difference between plane and spherical geometry has been long

evident, but the meaning of the axiom of parallels could not be

understood till Gauss had developed the notion of surfaces flexible

without dilatation, and consequently that of the possibly infinite

continuation of pseudospherical surfaces. Inhabiting, as we do, a

space of three dimensions and endowed with organs of sense for their

perception, we can represent to ourselves the various cases in which

beings on a surface might have to develop their perception of space;

for we have only to limit our own perceptions to a narrower field.

It is easy to think away perceptions that we have; but it is very

difficult to imagine perceptions to which there is nothing analogous in

our experience. When, therefore, we pass to space of three dimensions,

we are stopped in our power of representation, by the structure of our

organs and the experiences got through them which correspond only to

the space in which we live.

There is however another way of treating geometry scientifically. All

known space-relations are measurable, that is, they may be brought

to determination of magnitudes (lines, angles, surfaces, volumes).

Problems in geometry can therefore be solved, by finding methods of

calculation for arriving at unknown magnitudes from known ones. This

is done in _analytical geometry_, where all forms of space are treated

only as quantities and determined by means of other quantities. Even

the axioms themselves make reference to magnitudes. The straight

line is defined as the _shortest_ between two points, which is a

determination of quantity. The axiom of parallels declares that if

two straight lines in a plane do not intersect (are parallel), the

alternate angles, or the corresponding angles, made by a third line

intersecting them, are equal; or it may be laid down instead that the

sum of the angles of any triangle is equal to two right angles. These,

also, are determinations of quantity.

Now we may start with this view of space, according to which the

position of a point may be determined by measurements in relation to

any given figure (system of co-ordinates), taken as fixed, and then

inquire what are the special characteristics of our space as manifested

in the measurements that have to be made, and how it differs from other

extended quantities of like variety. This path was first entered by

one too early lost to science, B. Riemann of Göttingen.[6] It has the

peculiar advantage that all its operations consist in pure calculation

of quantities, which quite obviates the danger of habitual perceptions

being taken for necessities of thought.

[Footnote 6: Ueber die Hypothesen welche der Geometrie zu Grunde

liegen, Habilitationsschrift vom 10 Juni 1854. (_Abhandl. der königl.

Gesellsch. zu Göttingen_, Bd. XIII.)]

The number of measurements necessary to give the position of a point,

is equal to the number of dimensions of the space in question. In a

line the distance from one fixed point is sufficient, that is to say,

one quantity; in a surface the distances from two fixed points must

be given; in space, the distances from three; or we require, as on

the earth, longitude, latitude, and height above the sea, or, as is

usual in analytical geometry, the distances from three co-ordinate

planes. Riemann calls a system of differences in which one thing can

be determined by _n_ measurements an ‘_n_fold extended aggregate’ or

an ‘aggregate of _n_ dimensions.’ Thus the space in which we live is

a threefold, a surface is a twofold, and a line is a simple extended

aggregate of points. Time also is an aggregate of one dimension. The

system of colours is an aggregate of three dimensions, inasmuch as each

colour, according to the investigations of Thomas Young and of Clerk

Maxwell,[7] may be represented as a mixture of three primary colours,

taken in definite quantities. The particular mixtures can be actually

made with the colour-top.

[Footnote 7: Helmholtz’s _Popular Lectures_, Series I. p. 243.]

In the same way we may consider the system of simple tones[8] as

an aggregate of two dimensions, if we distinguish only pitch and

intensity, and leave out of account differences of timbre. This

generalisation of the idea is well suited to bring out the distinction

between space of three dimensions and other aggregates. We can, as

we know from daily experience, compare the vertical distance of two

points with the horizontal distance of two others, because we can apply

a measure first to the one pair and then to the other. But we cannot

compare the difference between two tones of equal pitch and different

intensity, with that between two tones of equal intensity and different

pitch. Riemann showed, by considerations of this kind, that the

essential foundation of any system of geometry, is the expression that

it gives for the distance between two points lying in any direction

towards one another, beginning with the infinitesimal interval. He took

from analytical geometry the most general form for this expression,

that, namely, which leaves altogether open the kind of measurements

by which the position of any point is given.[9] Then he showed that

the kind of free mobility without change of form which belongs to

bodies in our space can only exist when certain quantities yielded by

the calculation[10]--quantities that coincide with Gauss’s measure of

surface-curvature when they are expressed for surfaces--have everywhere

an equal value. For this reason Riemann calls these quantities,

when they have the same value in all directions for a particular

spot, the measure of curvature of the space at this spot. To prevent

misunderstanding,[11] I will once more observe that this so-called

measure of space-curvature is a quantity obtained by purely analytical

calculation, and that its introduction involves no suggestion of

relations that would have a meaning only for sense-perception. The

name is merely taken, as a short expression for a complex relation,

from the one case in which the quantity designated admits of sensible

representation.

[Footnote 8: Ibid. p. 86.]

[Footnote 9: For the square of the distance of two infinitely near

points the expression is a homogeneous quadric function of the

differentials of their co-ordinates.]

[Footnote 10: They are algebraical expressions compounded from the

coefficients of the various terms in the expression for the square

of the distance of two contiguous points and from their differential

quotients.]

[Footnote 11: As occurs, for instance, in the above-mentioned work of

Tobias, pp. 70, etc.]

Now whenever the value of this measure of curvature in any space

is everywhere zero, that space everywhere conforms to the axioms

of Euclid; and it may be called a _flat_ (_homaloid_) space in

contradistinction to other spaces, analytically constructible, that

may be called _curved_, because their measure of curvature has a

value other than zero. Analytical geometry may be as completely and

consistently worked out for such spaces as ordinary geometry can for

our actually existing homaloid space.

If the measure of curvature is positive we have _spherical_ space,

in which straightest lines return upon themselves and there are no

parallels. Such a space would, like the surface of a sphere, be

unlimited but not infinitely great. A constant negative measure of

curvature on the other hand gives _pseudospherical_ space, in which

straightest lines run out to infinity, and a pencil of straightest

lines may be drawn, in any flattest surface, through any point which

does not intersect another given straightest line in that surface.

Beltrami[12] has rendered these last relations imaginable by showing

that the points, lines, and surfaces of a pseudospherical space of

three dimensions, can be so portrayed in the interior of a sphere

in Euclid’s homaloid space, that every straightest line or flattest

surface of the pseudospherical space is represented by a straight

line or a plane, respectively, in the sphere. The surface itself

of the sphere corresponds to the infinitely distant points of the

pseudospherical space; and the different parts of this space, as

represented in the sphere, become smaller, the nearer they lie to the

spherical surface, diminishing more rapidly in the direction of the

radii than in that perpendicular to them. Straight lines in the sphere,

which only intersect beyond its surface, correspond to straightest

lines of the pseudospherical space which never intersect.

[Footnote 12: _Teoria fondamentale, &c._, _ut sup._]

Thus it appeared that space, considered as a region of measurable

quantities, does not at all correspond with the most general conception

of an aggregate of three dimensions, but involves also special

conditions, depending on the perfectly free mobility of solid bodies

without change of form to all parts of it and with all possible changes

of direction; and, further, on the special value of the measure of

curvature which for our actual space equals, or at least is not

distinguishable from, zero. This latter definition is given in the

axioms of straight lines and parallels.

Whilst Riemann entered upon this new field from the side of the most

general and fundamental questions of analytical geometry, I myself

arrived at similar conclusions,[13] partly from seeking to represent

in space the system of colours, involving the comparison of one

threefold extended aggregate with another, and partly from inquiries on

the origin of our ocular measure for distances in the field of vision.

Riemann starts by assuming the above-mentioned algebraical expression

which represents in the most general form the distance between two

infinitely near points, and deduces therefrom, the conditions of

mobility of rigid figures. I, on the other hand, starting from the

observed fact that the movement of rigid figures is possible in our

space, with the degree of freedom that we know, deduce the necessity of

the algebraic expression taken by Riemann as an axiom. The assumptions

that I had to make as the basis of the calculation were the following.

[Footnote 13: Ueber die Thatsachen die der Geometrie zum Grunde liegen

(_Nachrichten von der königl. Ges. d. Wiss. zu Göttingen_, Juni 3,

1868).]

First, to make algebraical treatment at all possible, it must be

assumed that the position of any point A can be determined, in relation

to certain given figures taken as fixed bases, by measurement of some

kind of magnitudes, as lines, angles between lines, angles between

surfaces, and so forth. The measurements necessary for determining the

position of A are known as its co-ordinates. In general, the number of

co-ordinates necessary for the complete determination of the position

of a point, marks the number of the dimensions of the space in

question. It is further assumed that with the movement of the point A,

the magnitudes used as co-ordinates vary continuously.

Secondly, the definition of a solid body, or rigid system of points,

must be made in such a way as to admit of magnitudes being compared by

congruence. As we must not, at this stage, assume any special methods

for the measurement of magnitudes, our definition can, in the first

instance, run only as follows: Between the co-ordinates of any two

points belonging to a solid body, there must be an equation which,

however the body is moved, expresses a constant spatial relation

(proving at last to be the distance) between the two points, and which

is the same for congruent pairs of points, that is to say, such pairs

as can be made successively to coincide in space with the same fixed

pair of points.

However indeterminate in appearance, this definition involves most

important consequences, because with increase in the number of points,

the number of equations increases much more quickly than the number of

co-ordinates which they determine. Five points, A, B, C, D, E, give ten

different pairs of points

AB, AC, AD, AE,

BC, BD, BE,

CD, CE,

DE,

and therefore ten equations, involving in space of three dimensions

fifteen variable co-ordinates. But of these fifteen, six must remain

arbitrary, if the system of five points is to admit of free movement

and rotation, and thus the ten equations can determine only nine

co-ordinates as functions of the six variables. With six points we

obtain fifteen equations for twelve quantities, with seven points

twenty-one equations for fifteen, and so on. Now from _n_ independent

equations we can determine _n_ contained quantities, and if we have

more than _n_ equations, the superfluous ones must be deducible from

the first _n_. Hence it follows that the equations which subsist

between the co-ordinates of each pair of points of a solid body

must have a special character, seeing that, when in space of three

dimensions they are satisfied for nine pairs of points as formed out

of any five points, the equation for the tenth pair follows by logical

consequence. Thus our assumption for the definition of solidity,

becomes quite sufficient to determine the kind of equations holding

between the co-ordinates of two points rigidly connected.

Thirdly, the calculation must further be based on the fact of a

peculiar circumstance in the movement of solid bodies, a fact so

familiar to us that but for this inquiry it might never have been

thought of as something that need not be. When in our space of three

dimensions two points of a solid body are kept fixed, its movements

are limited to rotations round the straight line connecting them.

If we turn it completely round once, it again occupies exactly the

position it had at first. This fact, that rotation in one direction

always brings a solid body back into its original position, needs

special mention. A system of geometry is possible without it. This

is most easily seen in the geometry of a plane. Suppose that with

every rotation of a plane figure its linear dimensions increased

in proportion to the angle of rotation, the figure after one whole

rotation through 360 degrees would no longer coincide with itself as

it was originally. But any second figure that was congruent with the

first in its original position might be made to coincide with it in its

second position by being also turned through 360 degrees. A consistent

system of geometry would be possible upon this supposition, which does

not come under Riemann’s formula.

On the other hand I have shown that the three assumptions taken

together form a sufficient basis for the starting-point of Riemann’s

investigation, and thence for all his further results relating to the

distinction of different spaces according to their measure of curvature.

It still remained to be seen whether the laws of motion, as dependent

on moving forces, could also be consistently transferred to spherical

or pseudospherical space. This investigation has been carried out by

Professor Lipschitz of Bonn.[14] It is found that the comprehensive

expression for all the laws of dynamics, Hamilton’s principle, may

be directly transferred to spaces of which the measure of curvature

is other than zero. Accordingly, in this respect also, the disparate

systems of geometry lead to no contradiction.

[Footnote 14: ‘Untersuchungen über die ganzen homogenen Functionen von

_n_ Differentialen’ (Borchardt’s _Journal für Mathematik_, Bd. lxx. 3,

71; lxxiii. 3,1); ‘Untersuchung eines Problems der Variationsrechnung’

(_Ibid._ Bd. lxxiv.).]

We have now to seek an explanation of the special characteristics of

our own flat space, since it appears that they are not implied in the

general notion of an extended quantity of three dimensions and of the

free mobility of bounded figures therein. _Necessities of thought_,

such as are involved in the conception of such a variety, and its

measurability, or from the most general of all ideas of a solid figure

contained in it, and of its free mobility, they undoubtedly are not.

Let us then examine the opposite assumption as to their origin being

empirical, and see if they can be inferred from facts of experience

and so established, or if, when tested by experience, they are perhaps

to be rejected. If they are of empirical origin, we must be able

to represent to ourselves connected series of facts, indicating a

different value for the measure of curvature from that of Euclid’s flat

space. But if we can imagine such spaces of other sorts, it cannot be

maintained that the axioms of geometry are necessary consequences of an

_à priori_ transcendental form of intuition, as Kant thought.

The distinction between spherical, pseudospherical, and Euclid’s

geometry depends, as was above observed, on the value of a certain

constant called, by Riemann, the measure of curvature of the space

in question. The value must be zero for Euclid’s axioms to hold

good. If it were not zero, the sum of the angles of a large triangle

would differ from that of the angles of a small one, being larger in

spherical, smaller in pseudospherical, space. Again, the geometrical

similarity of large and small solids or figures is possible only in

Euclid’s space. All systems of practical mensuration that have been

used for the angles of large rectilinear triangles, and especially all

systems of astronomical measurement which make the parallax of the

immeasurably distant fixed stars equal to zero (in pseudospherical

space the parallax even of infinitely distant points would be

positive), confirm empirically the axiom of parallels, and show the

measure of curvature of our space thus far to be indistinguishable from

zero. It remains, however, a question, as Riemann observed, whether the

result might not be different if we could use other than our limited

base-lines, the greatest of which is the major axis of the earth’s

orbit.

Meanwhile, we must not forget that all geometrical measurements rest

ultimately upon the principle of congruence. We measure the distance

between points by applying to them the compass, rule, or chain. We

measure angles by bringing the divided circle or theodolite to the

vertex of the angle. We also determine straight lines by the path

of rays of light which in our experience is rectilinear; but that

light travels in shortest lines as long as it continues in a medium

of constant refraction would be equally true in space of a different

measure of curvature. Thus all our geometrical measurements depend on

our instruments being really, as we consider them, invariable in form,

or at least on their undergoing no other than the small changes we know

of, as arising from variation of temperature, or from gravity acting

differently at different places.

In measuring, we only employ the best and surest means we know of to

determine, what we otherwise are in the habit of making out by sight

and touch or by pacing. Here our own body with its organs is the

instrument we carry about in space. Now it is the hand, now the leg,

that serves for a compass, or the eye turning in all directions is our

theodolite for measuring arcs and angles in the visual field.

Every comparative estimate of magnitudes or measurement of their

spatial relations proceeds therefore upon a supposition as to the

behaviour of certain physical things, either the human body or other

instruments employed. The supposition may be in the highest degree

probable and in closest harmony with all other physical relations known

to us, but yet it passes beyond the scope of pure space-intuition.

It is in fact possible to imagine conditions for bodies apparently

solid such that the measurements in Euclid’s space become what they

would be in spherical or pseudospherical space. Let me first remind the

reader that if all the linear dimensions of other bodies, and our own,

at the same time were diminished or increased in like proportion, as

for instance to half or double their size, we should with our means of

space-perception be utterly unaware of the change. This would also be

the case if the distension or contraction were different in different

directions, provided that our own body changed in the same manner,

and further that a body in rotating assumed at every moment, without

suffering or exerting mechanical resistance, the amount of dilatation

in its different dimensions corresponding to its position at the time.

Think of the image of the world in a convex mirror. The common silvered

globes set up in gardens give the essential features, only distorted

by some optical irregularities. A well-made convex mirror of moderate

aperture represents the objects in front of it as apparently solid and

in fixed positions behind its surface. But the images of the distant

horizon and of the sun in the sky lie behind the mirror at a limited

distance, equal to its focal length. Between these and the surface

of the mirror are found the images of all the other objects before

it, but the images are diminished and flattened in proportion to the

distance of their objects from the mirror. The flattening, or decrease

in the third dimension, is relatively greater than the decrease of

the surface-dimensions. Yet every straight line or every plane in the

outer world is represented by a straight line or a plane in the image.

The image of a man measuring with a rule a straight line from the

mirror would contract more and more the farther he went, but with his

shrunken rule the man in the image would count out exactly the same

number of centimetres as the real man. And, in general, all geometrical

measurements of lines or angles made with regularly varying images of

real instruments would yield exactly the same results as in the outer

world, all congruent bodies would coincide on being applied to one

another in the mirror as in the outer world, all lines of sight in the

outer world would be represented by straight lines of sight in the

mirror. In short I do not see how men in the mirror are to discover

that their bodies are not rigid solids and their experiences good

examples of the correctness of Euclid’s axioms. But if they could look

out upon our world as we can look into theirs, without overstepping

the boundary, they must declare it to be a picture in a spherical

mirror, and would speak of us just as we speak of them; and if two

inhabitants of the different worlds could communicate with one another,

neither, so far as I can see, would be able to convince the other that

he had the true, the other the distorted, relations. Indeed I cannot

see that such a question would have any meaning at all, so long as

mechanical considerations are not mixed up with it.

Now Beltrami’s representation of pseudospherical space in a sphere of

Euclid’s space, is quite similar, except that the background is not a

plane as in the convex mirror, but the surface of a sphere, and that

the proportion in which the images as they approach the spherical

surface contract, has a different mathematical expression.[15] If we

imagine then, conversely, that in the sphere, for the interior of which

Euclid’s axioms hold good, moving bodies contract as they depart from

the centre like the images in a convex mirror, and in such a way that

their representatives in pseudospherical space retain their dimensions

unchanged,--observers whose bodies were regularly subjected to the same

change would obtain the same results from the geometrical measurements

they could make as if they lived in pseudospherical space.

[Footnote 15: Compare the Appendix at the end of this Lecture.]

We can even go a step further, and infer how the objects in a

pseudospherical world, were it possible to enter one, would appear

to an observer, whose eye-measure and experiences of space had been

gained like ours in Euclid’s space. Such an observer would continue

to look upon rays of light or the lines of vision as straight lines,

such as are met with in flat space, and as they really are in the

spherical representation of pseudospherical space. The visual image

of the objects in pseudospherical space would thus make the same

impression upon him as if he were at the centre of Beltrami’s sphere.

He would think he saw the most remote objects round about him at a

finite distance,[16] let us suppose a hundred feet off. But as he

approached these distant objects, they would dilate before him, though

more in the third dimension than superficially, while behind him they

would contract. He would know that his eye judged wrongly. If he saw

two straight lines which in his estimate ran parallel for the hundred

feet to his world’s end, he would find on following them that the

farther he advanced the more they diverged, because of the dilatation

of all the objects to which he approached. On the other hand, behind

him, their distance would seem to diminish, so that as he advanced

they would appear always to diverge more and more. But two straight

lines which from his first position seemed to converge to one and the

same point of the background a hundred feet distant, would continue to

do this however far he went, and he would never reach their point of

intersection.

[Footnote 16: The reciprocal of the square of this distance, expressed

in negative quantity, would be the measure of curvature of the

pseudospherical space.]

Now we can obtain exactly similar images of our real world, if we

look through a large convex lens of corresponding negative focal

length, or even through a pair of convex spectacles if ground somewhat

prismatically to resemble pieces of one continuous larger lens. With

these, like the convex mirror, we see remote objects as if near to us,

the most remote appearing no farther distant than the focus of the

lens. In going about with this lens before the eyes, we find that the

objects we approach dilate exactly in the manner I have described for

pseudospherical space. Now any one using a lens, were it even so strong

as to have a focal length of only sixty inches, to say nothing of a

hundred feet, would perhaps observe for the first moment that he saw

objects brought nearer. But after going about a little the illusion

would vanish, and in spite of the false images he would judge of the

distances rightly. We have every reason to suppose that what happens in

a few hours to any one beginning to wear spectacles would soon enough

be experienced in pseudospherical space. In short, pseudospherical

space would not seem to us very strange, comparatively speaking; we

should only at first be subject to illusions in measuring by eye the

size and distance of the more remote objects.

There would be illusions of an opposite description, if, with eyes

practised to measure in Euclid’s space, we entered a spherical space

of three dimensions. We should suppose the more distant objects to be

more remote and larger than they are, and should find on approaching

them that we reached them more quickly than we expected from their

appearance. But we should also see before us objects that we can fixate

only with diverging lines of sight, namely, all those at a greater

distance from us than the quadrant of a great circle. Such an aspect of

things would hardly strike us as very extraordinary, for we can have

it even as things are if we place before the eye a slightly prismatic

glass with the thicker side towards the nose: the eyes must then become

divergent to take in distant objects. This excites a certain feeling

of unwonted strain in the eyes, but does not perceptibly change the

appearance of the objects thus seen. The strangest sight, however, in

the spherical world would be the back of our own head, in which all

visual lines not stopped by other objects would meet again, and which

must fill the extreme background of the whole perspective picture.

At the same time it must be noted that as a small elastic flat disk,

say of india-rubber, can only be fitted to a slightly curved spherical

surface with relative contraction of its border and distension of

its centre, so our bodies, developed in Euclid’s flat space, could

not pass into curved space without undergoing similar distensions

and contractions of their parts, their coherence being of course

maintained only in as far as their elasticity permitted their bending

without breaking. The kind of distension must be the same as in passing

from a small body imagined at the centre of Beltrami’s sphere to its

pseudospherical or spherical representation. For such passage to

appear possible, it will always have to be assumed that the body is

sufficiently elastic and small in comparison with the real or imaginary

radius of curvature of the curved space into which it is to pass.

These remarks will suffice to show the way in which we can infer

from the known laws of our sensible perceptions the series of

sensible impressions which a spherical or pseudospherical world

would give us, if it existed. In doing so, we nowhere meet with

inconsistency or impossibility any more than in the calculation of

its metrical proportions. We can represent to ourselves the look of

a pseudospherical world in all directions just as we can develop the

conception of it. Therefore it cannot be allowed that the axioms of our

geometry depend on the native form of our perceptive faculty, or are

in any way connected with it.

It is different with the three dimensions of space. As all our means of

sense-perception extend only to space of three dimensions, and a fourth

is not merely a modification of what we have, but something perfectly

new, we find ourselves by reason of our bodily organisation quite

unable to represent a fourth dimension.

In conclusion, I would again urge that the axioms of geometry are not

propositions pertaining only to the pure doctrine of space. As I said

before, they are concerned with quantity. We can speak of quantities

only when we know of some way by which we can compare, divide, and

measure them. All space-measurements, and therefore in general all

ideas of quantities applied to space, assume the possibility of figures

moving without change of form or size. It is true we are accustomed

in geometry to call such figures purely geometrical solids, surfaces,

angles, and lines, because we abstract from all the other distinctions,

physical and chemical, of natural bodies; but yet one physical quality,

rigidity, is retained. Now we have no other mark of rigidity of bodies

or figures but congruence, whenever they are applied to one another

at any time or place, and after any revolution. We cannot, however,

decide by pure geometry, and without mechanical considerations, whether

the coinciding bodies may not both have varied in the same sense.

If it were useful for any purpose, we might with perfect consistency

look upon the space in which we live as the apparent space behind a

convex mirror with its shortened and contracted background; or we might

consider a bounded sphere of our space, beyond the limits of which we

perceive nothing further, as infinite pseudospherical space. Only then

we should have to ascribe to the bodies which appear to us to be solid,

and to our own body at the same time, corresponding distensions and

contractions, and we should have to change our system of mechanical

principles entirely; for even the proposition that every point in

motion, if acted upon by no force, continues to move with unchanged

velocity in a straight line, is not adapted to the image of the world

in the convex mirror. The path would indeed be straight, but the

velocity would depend upon the place.

Thus the axioms of geometry are not concerned with space-relations only

but also at the same time with the mechanical deportment of solidest

bodies in motion. The notion of rigid geometrical figure might indeed

be conceived as transcendental in Kant’s sense, namely, as formed

independently of actual experience, which need not exactly correspond

therewith, any more than natural bodies do ever in fact correspond

exactly to the abstract notion we have obtained of them by induction.

Taking the notion of rigidity thus as a mere ideal, a strict Kantian

might certainly look upon the geometrical axioms as propositions given,

_à priori_, by transcendental intuition, which no experience could

either confirm or refute, because it must first be decided by them

whether any natural bodies can be considered as rigid. But then we

should have to maintain that the axioms of geometry are not synthetic

propositions, as Kant held them; they would merely define what

qualities and deportment a body must have to be recognised as rigid.

But if to the geometrical axioms we add propositions relating to

the mechanical properties of natural bodies, were it only the axiom

of inertia, or the single proposition, that the mechanical and

physical properties of bodies and their mutual reactions are, other

circumstances remaining the same, independent of place, such a system

of propositions has a real import which can be confirmed or refuted

by experience, but just for the same reason can also be gained by

experience. The mechanical axiom, just cited, is in fact of the

utmost importance for the whole system of our mechanical and physical

conceptions. That rigid solids, as we call them, which are really

nothing else than elastic solids of great resistance, retain the same

form in every part of space if no external force affects them, is a

single case falling under the general principle.

In conclusion, I do not, of course, maintain that mankind first arrived

at space-intuitions, in agreement with the axioms of Euclid, by any

carefully executed systems of exact measurement. It was rather a

succession of everyday experiences, especially the perception of the

geometrical similarity of great and small bodies, only possible in flat

space, that led to the rejection, as impossible, of every geometrical

representation at variance with this fact. For this no knowledge

of the necessary logical connection between the observed fact of

geometrical similarity and the axioms was needed; but only an intuitive

apprehension of the typical relations between lines, planes, angles,

&c., obtained by numerous and attentive observations--an intuition of

the kind the artist possesses of the objects he is to represent, and

by means of which he decides with certainty and accuracy whether a new

combination, which he tries, will correspond or not with their nature.

It is true that we have no word but _intuition_ to mark this; but it

is knowledge empirically gained by the aggregation and reinforcement

of similar recurrent impressions in memory, and not a transcendental

form given before experience. That other such empirical intuitions of

fixed typical relations, when not clearly comprehended, have frequently

enough been taken by metaphysicians for _à priori_ principles, is a

point on which I need not insist.

* * * * *

To sum up, the final outcome of the whole inquiry may be thus

expressed:--

(1.) The axioms of geometry, taken by themselves out of all connection

with mechanical propositions, represent no relations of real things.

When thus isolated, if we regard them with Kant as forms of intuition

transcendentally given, they constitute a form into which any empirical

content whatever will fit, and which therefore does not in any way

limit or determine beforehand the nature of the content. This is

true, however, not only of Euclid’s axioms, but also of the axioms of

spherical and pseudospherical geometry.

(2.) As soon as certain principles of mechanics are conjoined with

the axioms of geometry, we obtain a system of propositions which has

real import, and which can be verified or overturned by empirical

observations, just as it can be inferred from experience. If such a

system were to be taken as a transcendental form of intuition and

thought, there must be assumed a pre-established harmony between form

and reality.

Popular lectures on scientific subjects · 第 6 / 22 题