INTRODUCTION.

IN order to the acquisition of any such exact and real knowledge of nature as that which we properly call Physical Science, it is requisite, as has already been said, that men should possess Ideas both distinct and appropriate, and should apply them to ascertained Facts. They are thus led to propositions of a general character, which are obtained by Induction, as will elsewhere be more fully explained. We proceed now to trace the formation of Sciences among the Greeks by such processes. The provinces of knowledge which thus demand our attention are, Astronomy, Mechanics and Hydrostatics, Optics and Harmonics; of which I must relate, first, the earliest stages, and next, the subsequent progress.

Of these portions of human knowledge, Astronomy is, beyond doubt or comparison, much the most ancient and the most remarkable; and probably existed, in somewhat of a scientific form, in Chaldea and Egypt, and other countries, before the period of the intellectual activity of the Greeks. But I will give a brief account of some of the other Sciences before I proceed to Astronomy, for two reasons; first, because the origin of Astronomy is lost in the obscurity of a remote antiquity; and therefore we cannot exemplify the conditions of the first rise of science so well in that subject as we can in others which assumed their scientific form at known periods; and next, in order that I may not have to interrupt, after I have once begun it, the history of the only progressive Science which the ancient world produced.

It has been objected to the arrangement here employed that it is not symmetrical; and that Astronomy, as being one of the Physical Sciences, ought to have occupied a chapter in this Second Book, instead of having a whole Book to itself ([Book iii]). I do not pretend that the arrangement is symmetrical, and have employed it only on the ground of convenience. The importance and extent of the history of Astronomy are such that this science could not, with a view to our purposes, be made co-ordinate with Mechanics or Optics. [96]

CHAPTER I.
Earliest Stages of Mechanics and Hydrostatics.


Sect. 1.—Mechanics.

ASTRONOMY is a science so ancient that we can hardly ascend to a period when it did not exist; Mechanics, on the other hand, is a science which did not begin to be till after the time of Aristotle; for Archimedes must be looked upon as the author of the first sound knowledge on this subject. What is still more curious, and shows remarkably how little the continued progress of science follows inevitably from the nature of man, this department of knowledge, after the right road had been fairly entered upon, remained absolutely stationary for nearly two thousand years; no single step was made, in addition to the propositions established by Archimedes, till the time of Galileo and Stevinus. This extraordinary halt will be a subject of attention hereafter; at present we must consider the original advance.

The great step made by Archimedes in Mechanics was the establishing, upon true grounds, the general proposition concerning a straight lever, loaded with two heavy bodies, and resting upon a fulcrum. The proposition is, that two bodies so circumstanced will balance each other, when the distance of the smaller body from the fulcrum is greater than the distance of the other, in exactly the same proportion in which the weight of the body is less.

This proposition is proved by Archimedes in a work which is still extant, and the proof holds its place in our treatises to this day, as the simplest which can be given. The demonstration is made to rest on assumptions which amount in effect to such Definitions and Axioms as these: That those bodies are of equal weight which balance each other at equal arms of a straight lever; and that in every heavy body there is a definite point called a Centre of Gravity, in which point we may suppose the weight of the body collected.

The principle, which is really the foundation of the validity of the demonstration thus given, and which is the condition of all experimental knowledge on the subject, is this: that when two equal weights are supported on a lever, they act on the fulcrum of the lever with the [97] same effect as if they were both together supported immediately at that point. Or more generally, we may state the principle to be this: that the pressure by which a heavy body is supported continues the same, however we alter the form or position of the body, so long as the magnitude and material continue the same.

The experimental truth of this principle is a matter of obvious and universal experience. The weight of a basket of stones is not altered by shaking the stones into new positions. We cannot make the direct burden of a stone less by altering its position in our hands; and if we try the effect on a balance or a machine of any kind, we shall see still more clearly and exactly that the altered position of one weight, or the altered arrangement of several, produces no change in their effect, so long as their point of support remains unchanged.

This general fact is obvious, when we possess in our minds the ideas which are requisite to apprehend it clearly. But when we are so prepared, the truth appears to be manifest, even independent of experience, and is seen to be a rule to which experience must conform. What, then, is the leading idea which thus enables us to reason effectively upon mechanical subjects? By attention to the course of such reasonings, we perceive that it is the idea of Pressure; Pressure being conceived as a measurable effect of heavy bodies at rest, distinguishable from all other effects, such as motion, change of figure, and the like. It is not here necessary to attempt to trace the history of this idea in our minds; but it is certain that such an idea may be distinctly formed, and that upon it the whole science of statics may be built. Pressure, load, weight, are names by which this idea is denoted when the effect tends directly downwards; but we may have pressure without motion, or dead pull, in other cases, as at the critical instant when two nicely-matched wrestlers are balanced by the exertion of the utmost strength of each.

Pressure in any direction may thus exist without any motion whatever. But the causes which produce such pressure are capable of producing motion, and are generally seen producing motion, as in the above instance of the wrestlers, or in a pair of scales employed in weighing; and thus men come to consider pressure as the exception, and motion as the rule: or perhaps they image to themselves the motion which might or would take place; for instance, the motion which the arms of a lever would have if they did move. They turn away from the case really before them, which is that of bodies at rest, and balancing each other, and pass to another case, which is arbitrarily [98] assumed to represent the first. Now this arbitrary and capricious evasion of the question we consider as opposed to the introduction of the distinct and proper idea of Pressure, by means of which the true principles of this subject can be apprehended.

We have already seen that Aristotle was in the number of those who thus evaded the difficulties of the problem of the lever, and consequently lost the reward of success. He failed, as has before been stated, in consequence of his seeking his principles in notions, either vague and loose, as the distinction of natural and unnatural motions, or else inappropriate, as the circle which the weight would describe, the velocity which it would have if it moved; circumstances which are not part of the fact under consideration. The influence of such modes of speculation was the main hindrance to the prosecution of the true Archimedean form of the science of Mechanics.

The mechanical doctrine of Equilibrium, is Statics. It is to be distinguished from the mechanical doctrine of Motion, which is termed Dynamics, and which was not successfully treated till the time of Galileo.

Sect. 2.—Hydrostatics.

Archimedes not only laid the foundations of the Statics of solid bodies, but also solved the principal problem of Hydrostatics, or the Statics of Fluids; namely, the conditions of the floating of bodies. This is the more remarkable, since not only did the principles which Archimedes established on this subject remain unpursued till the revival of science in modern times, but, when they were again put forward, the main proposition was so far from obvious that it was termed, and is to this day called, the hydrostatic paradox. The true doctrine of Hydrostatics, however, assuming the Idea of Pressure, which it involves, in common with the Mechanics of solid bodies, requires also a distinct Idea of a Fluid, as a body of which the parts are perfectly movable among each other by the slightest partial pressure, and in which all pressure exerted on one part is transferred to all other parts. From this idea of Fluidity, necessarily follows that multiplication of pressure which constitutes the hydrostatic paradox; and the notion being seen to be verified in nature, the consequences were also realized as facts. This notion of Fluidity is expressed in the postulate which stands at the head of Archimedes’ “Treatise on Floating Bodies.” And from this principle are deduced the solutions, not only of the simple problems of the science, but of some problems of considerable complexity. [99]

The difficulty of holding fast this Idea of Fluidity so as to trace its consequences with infallible strictness of demonstration, may be judged of from the circumstance that, even at the present day, men of great talents, not unfamiliar with the subject, sometimes admit into their reasonings an oversight or fallacy with regard to this very point. The importance of the Idea when clearly apprehended and securely held, may be judged of from this, that the whole science of Hydrostatics in its most modern form is only the development of the Idea. And what kind of attempts at science would be made by persons destitute of this Idea, we may see in the speculations of Aristotle concerning light and heavy bodies, which we have already quoted; where, by considering light and heavy as opposite qualities, residing in things themselves, and by an inability to apprehend the effect of surrounding fluids in supporting bodies, the subject was made a mass of false or frivolous assertions, which the utmost ingenuity could not reconcile with facts, and could still less deduce from the asserted doctrines any new practical truths.

In the case of Statics and Hydrostatics, the most important condition of their advance was undoubtedly the distinct apprehension of these two appropriate IdeasStatical Pressure, and Hydrostatical Pressure as included in the idea of Fluidity. For the Ideas being once clearly possessed, the experimental laws which they served to express (that the whole pressure of a body downwards was always the same; and that water, and the like, were fluids according to the above idea of fluidity), were so obvious, that there was no doubt nor difficulty about them. These two ideas lie at the root of all mechanical science; and the firm possession of them is, to this day, the first requisite for a student of the subject. After being clearly awakened in the mind of Archimedes, these ideas slept for many centuries, till they were again called up in Galileo, and more remarkably in Stevinus. This time, they were not destined again to slumber; and the results of their activity have been the formation of two Sciences, which are as certain and severe in their demonstrations as geometry itself and as copious and interesting in their conclusions; but which, besides this recommendation, possess one of a different order,—that they exhibit the exact impress of the laws of the physical world, and unfold a portion of the rules according to which the phenomena of nature take place, and must take place, till nature herself shall alter. [100]

CHAPTER II.
Earliest Stages of Optics.

THE progress made by the ancients in Optics was nearly proportional to that which they made in Statics. As they discovered the true grounds of the doctrine of Equilibrium, without obtaining any sound principles concerning Motion, so they discovered the law of the Reflection of light, but had none but the most indistinct notions concerning Refraction.

The extent of the principles which they really possessed is easily stated. They knew that vision is performed by rays which proceed in straight lines, and that these rays are reflected by certain surfaces (mirrors) in such manner that the angles which they make with the surface on each side are equal. They drew various conclusions from these premises by the aid of geometry; as, for instance, the convergence of rays which fall on a concave speculum.

It may be observed that the Idea which is here introduced, is that of visual rays, or lines along which vision is produced and light carried. This idea once clearly apprehended, it was not difficult to show that these lines are straight lines, both in the case of light and of sight. In the beginning of Euclid’s “Treatise on Optics,” some of the arguments are mentioned by which this was established. We are told in the Proem, “In explaining what concerns the sight, he adduced certain arguments from which he inferred that all light is carried in straight lines. The greatest proof of this is shadows, and the bright spots which are produced by light coming through windows and cracks, and which could not be, except the rays of the sun were carried in straight lines. So in fires, the shadows are greater than the bodies if the fire be small, but less than the bodies if the fire be greater.” A clear comprehension of the principle would lead to the perception of innumerable proofs of its truth on every side.

The Law of Equality of Angles of Incidence and Reflection was not quite so easy to verify; but the exact resemblance of the object and its image in a plane mirror, (as the surface of still water, for instance), which is a consequence of this law, would afford convincing evidence of its truth in that case, and would be confirmed by the examination of other cases. [101]

With these true principles was mixed much error and indistinctness, even in the best writers. Euclid, and the Platonists, maintained that vision is exercised by rays proceeding from the eye, not to it; so that when we see objects, we learn their form as a blind man would do, by feeling it out with his staff. This mistake, however, though Montucla speaks severely of it, was neither very discreditable nor very injurious; for the mathematical conclusions on each supposition are necessarily the same. Another curious and false assumption is, that those visual rays are not close together, but separated by intervals, like the fingers when the hand is spread. The motive for this invention was the wish to account for the fact, that in looking for a small object, as a needle, we often cannot see it when it is under our nose; which it was conceived would be impossible if the visual rays reached to all points of the surface before us.

These errors would not have prevented the progress of the science. But the Aristotelian physics, as usual, contained speculations more essentially faulty. Aristotle’s views led him to try to describe the kind of causation by which vision is produced, instead of the laws by which it is exercised; and the attempt consisted, as in other subjects, of indistinct principles, and ill-combined facts. According to him, vision must be produced by a Medium,—by something between the object and the eye,—for if we press the object on the eye, we do not see it; this Medium is Light, or “the transparent in action;” darkness occurs when the transparency is potential, not actual; color is not the “absolute visible,” but something which is on the absolute visible; color has the power of setting the transparent in action; it is not, however, all colors that are seen by means of light, but only the proper color of each object; for some things, as the heads, and scales, and eyes of fish, are seen in the dark; but they are not seen with their proper color.[1]

[1] De Anim. ii. 7.

In all this there is no steady adherence either to one notion, or to one class of facts. The distinction of Power and Act is introduced to modify the Idea of Transparency, according to the formula of the school; then Color is made to be something unknown in addition to Visibility; and the distinction of “proper” and “improper” colors is assumed, as sufficient to account for a phenomenon. Such classifications have in them nothing of which the mind can take steady hold; nor is it difficult to see that they do not come under those [102] conditions of successful physical speculation, which we have laid down.

It is proper to notice more distinctly the nature of the Geometrical Propositions contained in Euclid’s work. The Optica contains Propositions concerning Vision and Shadows, derived from the principle that the rays of light are rectilinear: for instance, the Proposition that the shadow is greater than the object, if the illuminating body be less and vice versa. The Catoptrica contains Propositions concerning the effects of Reflection, derived from the principle that the Angles of Incidence and Reflection are equal: as, that in a convex mirror the object appears convex, and smaller than the object. We see here an example of the promptitude of the Greeks in deduction. When they had once obtained a knowledge of a principle, they followed it to its mathematical consequences with great acuteness. The subject of concave mirrors is pursued further in Ptolemy’s Optics.

The Greek writers also cultivated the subject of Perspective speculatively, in mathematical treatises, as well as practically, in pictures. The whole of this theory is a consequence of the principle that vision takes place in straight lines drawn from the object to the eye.

“The ancients were in some measure acquainted with the Refraction as well as the Reflection of Light,” as I have shown in Book ix. Chap. 2 [2d Ed.] of the Philosophy. The current knowledge on this subject must have been very slight and confused; for it does not appear to have enabled them to account for one of the simplest results of Refraction, the magnifying effect of convex transparent bodies. I have noticed in the passage just referred to, Seneca’s crude notions on this subject; and in like manner Ptolemy in his Optics asserts that an object placed in water must always appear larger then when taken out. Aristotle uses the term ἀνακλάσις (Meteorol. iii. 2), but apparently in a very vague manner. It is not evident that he distinguished Refraction from Reflection. His Commentators however do distinguish these as διακλάσις and ἀνακλάσις. See Olympiodorus in Schneider’s Eclogæ Physicæ, vol. i. p. 397. And Refraction had been the subject of special attention among the Greek Mathematicians. Archimedes had noticed (as we learn from the same writer) that in certain cases, a ring which cannot be seen over the edge of the empty vessel in which it is placed, becomes visible when the vessel is filled with water. The same fact is stated in the Optics of Euclid. We do not find this fact explained in that work as we now have it; but in Ptolemy’s Optics the fact is explained by a flexure of the visual ray: it is [103] noticed that this flexure is different at different angles from the perpendicular, and there is an elaborate collection of measures of the flexure at different angles, made by means of an instrument devised for the purpose. There is also a collection of similar measures of the refraction when the ray passes from air to glass, and when it passes from glass to water. This part of Ptolemy’s work is, I think, the oldest extant example of a collection of experimental measures in any other subject than astronomy; and in astronomy our measures are the result of observation rather than of experiment. As Delambre says (Astron. Anc. vol. ii. p. 427), “On y voit des expériences de physique bien faites, ce qui est sans exemple chez les anciens.”

Ptolemy’s Optical work was known only by Roger Bacon’s references to it (Opus Majus, p. 286, &c.) till 1816; but copies of Latin translations of it were known to exist in the Royal Library at Paris, and in the Bodleian at Oxford. Delambre has given an account of the contents of the Paris copy in his Astron. Anc. ii. 414, and in the Connoissance des Temps for 1816; and Prof. Rigaud’s account of the Oxford copy is given in the article Optics, in the Encyclopædia Britannica. Ptolemy shows great sagacity in applying the notion of Refraction to the explanation of the displacement of astronomical objects which is produced by the atmosphere,—Astronomical Refraction, as it is commonly called. He represents the visual ray as refracted in passing from the ether, which is above the air, into the air; the air being bounded by a spherical surface which has for its centre “the centre of all the elements, the centre of the earth;” and the refraction being a flexure towards the line drawn perpendicular to this surface. He thus constructs, says Delambre, the same figure on which Cassini afterwards founded the whole of his theory; and gives a theory more complete than that of any astronomer previous to him. Tycho, for instance, believed that astronomical refraction was caused only by the vapors of the atmosphere, and did not exist above the altitude of 45°.

Cleomedes, about the time of Augustus, had guessed at Refraction, as an explanation of an eclipse in which the sun and moon are both seen at the same time. “Is it not possible,” he says, “that the ray which proceeds from the eye and traverses moist and cloudy air may bend downwards to the sun, even when he is below the horizon?” And Sextus Empiricus, a century later, says, “The air being dense, by the refraction of the visual ray, a constellation may be seen above the horizon when it is yet below the horizon.” But from what follows, it [104] appears doubtful whether he clearly distinguished Refraction and Reflection.

In order that we may not attach too much value to the vague expressions of Cleomedes and Sextus Empiricus, we may remark that Cleomedes conceives such an eclipse as he describes not to be possible, though he offers an explanation of it if it be: (the fact must really occur whenever the moon is seen in the horizon in the middle of an eclipse:) and that Sextus Empiricus gives his suggestion of the effect of refraction as an argument why the Chaldean astrology cannot be true, since the constellation which appears to be rising at the moment of a birth is not the one which is truly rising. The Chaldeans might have answered, says Delambre, that the star begins to shed its influence, not when it is really in the horizon, but when its light is seen. (Ast. Anc. vol. i. p. 231, and vol. ii. p. 548.)

It has been said that Vitellio, or Vitello, whom we shall [hereafter] have to speak of in the history of Optics, took his Tables of Refractions from Ptolemy. This is contrary to what Delambre states. He says that Vitello may be accused of plagiarism from Alhazen, and that Alhazen did not borrow his Tables from Ptolemy. Roger Bacon had said (Opus Majus, p. 288), “Ptolemæus in libro de Opticis, id est, de Aspectibus, seu in Perspectivâ suâ, qui prius quam Alhazen dedit hanc sententiam, quam a Ptolemæo acceptam Alhazen exposuit.” This refers only to the opinion that visual rays proceed from the eye. But this also is erroneous; for Alhazen maintains the contrary: “Visio fit radiis a visibili extrinsecus ad visum manantibus.” (Opt. Lib. i. cap. 5.) Vitello says of his Table of Refractions, “Acceptis instrumentaliter, prout potuimus propinquius, angulis omnium refractionum . . . invenimus quod semper iidem sunt anguli refractionum: . . . secundum hoc fecimus has tabulas.” “Having measured, by means of instruments, as exactly as we could, the whole range of the angles of refraction, we found that the refraction is always the same for the same angle; and hence we have constructed these Tables.” ~Additional material in the [3rd edition].~ [105]

CHAPTER III.
Earliest Stages of Harmonics.

AMONG the ancients, the science of Music was an application of Arithmetic, as Optics and Mechanics were of Geometry. The story which is told concerning the origin of their arithmetical music, is the following, as it stands in the Arithmetical Treatise of Nicomachus.

Pythagoras, walking one day, meditating on the means of measuring musical notes, happened to pass near a blacksmith’s shop, and had his attention arrested by hearing the hammers, as they struck the anvil, produce the sounds which had a musical relation to each other. On listening further, he found that the intervals were a Fourth, a Fifth, and an Octave; and on weighing the hammers, it appeared that the one which gave the Octave was one-half the heaviest, the one which gave the Fifth was two-thirds, and the one which gave the Fourth was three-quarters. He returned home, reflected upon this phenomenon, made trials, and finally discovered, that if he stretched musical strings of equal lengths, by weights which have the proportion of one-half, two-thirds, and three-fourths, they produced intervals which were an Octave, a Fifth, and a Fourth. This observation gave an arithmetical measure of the principal Musical Intervals, and made Music an arithmetical subject of speculation.

This story, if not entirely a philosophical fable, is undoubtedly inaccurate; for the musical intervals thus spoken of would not be produced by striking with hammers of the weights there stated. But it is true that the notes of strings have a definite relation to the forces which stretch them; and this truth is still the groundwork of the theory of musical concords and discords.

Nicomachus says that Pythagoras found the weights to be, as I have mentioned, in the proportion of 12, 6, 8, 9; and the intervals, an Octave, corresponding to the proportion 12 to 6, or 2 to 1; a Fifth, corresponding to the proportion 12 to 8, or 3 to 2; and a Fourth, corresponding to the proportion 12 to 9, or 4 to 3. There is no doubt that this statement of the ancient writer is inexact as to the physical fact, for the rate of vibration of a string, on which its note depends, is, [106] other things being equal, not as the weight, but as the square root of the weight. But he is right as to the essential point, that those ratios of 2 to 1, 3 to 2, and 4 to 3, are the characteristic ratios of the Octave, Fifth, and Fourth. In order to produce these intervals, the appended weights must be, not as 12, 9, 8, and 6, but as 12, 6¾, 5⅓, and 3.

The numerical relations of the other intervals of the musical scale, as well as of the Octave, Fifth, and Fourth, were discovered by the Greeks. Thus they found that the proportion in a Major Third was 5 to 4; in a Minor Third, 6 to 5; in a Major Tone, 9 to 8; in a Semitone or Diesis, 16 to 15. They even went so far as to determine the Comma, in which the interval of two notes is so small that they are in the proportion of 81 to 80. This is the interval between two notes, each of which may be called the Seventeenth above the key-note;—the one note being obtained by ascending a Fifth four times over; the other being obtained by ascending through two Octaves and a Major Third. The want of exact coincidence between these two notes is an inherent arithmetical imperfection in the musical scale, of which the consequences are very extensive.

The numerical properties of the musical scale were worked out to a very great extent by the Greeks, and many of their Treatises on this subject remain to us. The principal ones are the seven authors published by Meibomius.[2] These arithmetical elements of Music are to the present day important and fundamental portions of the Science of Harmonics.

[2] Antiquæ Musicæ Scriptores septem, 1652.

It may at first appear that the truth, or even the possibility of this history, by referring the discovery to accident, disproves our doctrine, that this, like all other fundamental discoveries, required a distinct and well-pondered Idea as its condition. In this, however, as in all cases of supposed accidental discoveries in science, it will be found, that it was exactly the possession of such an Idea which made the accident possible.

Pythagoras, assuming the truth of the tradition, must have had an exact and ready apprehension of those relations of musical sounds, which are called respectively an Octave, a Fifth, and a Fourth. If he had not been able to conceive distinctly this relation, and to apprehend it when heard, the sounds of the anvil would have struck his ears to no more purpose than they did those of the smiths themselves. He [107] must have had, too, a ready familiarity with numerical ratios; and, moreover (that in which, probably, his superiority most consisted), a disposition to connect one notion with the other—the musical relation with the arithmetical, if it were found possible. When the connection was once suggested, it was easy to devise experiments by which it might be confirmed.

“The philosophers of the Pythagorean School,[3] and in particular, Lasus of Hermione, and Hippasus of Metapontum, made many such experiments upon strings; varying both their lengths and the weights which stretched them; and also upon vessels filled with water, in a greater or less degree.” And thus was established that connection of the Idea with the Fact, which this Science, like all others, requires.

[3] Montucla, iii. 10.


I shall quit the Physical Sciences of Ancient Greece, with the above brief statement of the discovery of the fundamental principles which they involved; not only because such initial steps must always be the most important in the progress of science, but because, in reality, the Greeks made no advances beyond these. There took place among them no additional inductive processes, by which new facts were brought under the dominion of principles, or by which principles were presented in a more comprehensive shape than before. Their advance terminated in a single stride. Archimedes had stirred the intellectual world, but had not put it in progressive motion: the science of Mechanics stopped where he left it. And though, in some objects, as in Harmonics, much was written, the works thus produced consisted of deductions from the fundamental principles, by means of arithmetical calculations; occasionally modified, indeed, by reference to the pleasures which music, as an art, affords, but not enriched by any new scientific truths.

[3d Ed.] We should, however, quit the philosophy of the ancient Greeks without a due sense of the obligations which Physical Science in all succeeding ages owes to the acute and penetrating spirit in which their inquiries in that region of human knowledge were conducted, and to the large and lofty aspirations which were displayed, even in their failure, if we did not bear in mind both the multifarious and comprehensive character of their attempts, and some of the causes which limited their progress in positive science. They speculated and [108] theorized under a lively persuasion that a Science of every part of nature was possible, and was a fit object for the exercise of man’s best faculties; and they were speedily led to the conviction that such a science must clothe its conclusions in the language of mathematics. This conviction is eminently conspicuous in the writings of Plato. In the Republic, in the Epinomis, and above all in the Timæus, this conviction makes him return, again and again, to a discussion of the laws which had been established or conjectured in his time, respecting Harmonics and Optics, such as we have seen, and still more, respecting Astronomy, such as we shall see in the next Book. Probably no succeeding step in the discovery of the Laws of Nature was of so much importance as the full adoption of this pervading conviction, that there must be Mathematical Laws of Nature, and that it is the business of Philosophy to discover these Laws. This conviction continues, through all the succeeding ages of the history of science, to be the animating and supporting principle of scientific investigation and discovery. And, especially in Astronomy, many of the erroneous guesses which the Greeks made, contain, if not the germ, at least the vivifying life-blood, of great truths, reserved for future ages.

Moreover, the Greeks not only sought such theories of special parts of nature, but a general Theory of the Universe. An essay at such a theory is the Timæus of Plato; too wide and too ambitious an attempt to succeed at that time; or, indeed, on the scale on which he unfolds it, even in our time; but a vigorous and instructive example of the claim which man’s Intellect feels that it may make to understand the universal frame of things, and to render a reason for all that is presented to it by the outward senses.

Further; we see in Plato, that one of the grounds of the failure in this attempt, was the assumption that the reason why every thing is what it is and as it is, must be that so it is best, according to some view of better or worse attainable by man. Socrates, in his dying conversation, as given in the Phædo, declares this to have been what he sought in the philosophy of his time; and tells his friends that he turned away from the speculations of Anaxagoras because they did not give him such reasons for the constitution of the world; and Plato’s Timæus is, in reality, an attempt to supply this deficiency, and to present a Theory of the Universe, in which every thing is accounted for by such reasons. Though this is a failure, it is a noble as well as an instructive failure. ~Additional material in the [3rd edition].~