Astronomical Myths: Based on Flammarions's "History of the Heavens"
John Stuart Mill · en
Parmenidas was the disciple of Xenophanes. He divided the earth, like
Thales, into zones; and he added that it was suspended in the centre of
the universe, and that it did not fall because there was no reason why
it should move in one direction rather than another. This argument is
perfectly philosophical, and illustrates a principle employed since the
time of Archimedes, and of which Leibnitz made so much use.
Such are some of the general ideas which were held by the Greeks and
others on the nature of the heavens, omitting that of Ptolemy, of which
we shall give a fuller account hereafter. We see that they were all
affected by the dominant idea of the superiority of the earth over the
rest of the universe, and were spoiled for want of the grand conception
of the immensity of space. The universe was for them a closed space,
outside of which there was _nothing_; and they busied themselves with
metaphysical questions as to the possibility of space being infinite. In
the meantime their conceptions of the distances separating us from other
visible parts of the universe were excessively cramped. Hesiod, for
instance, thinks to give a grand idea of the size of the universe by
saying that Vulcan's anvil took seven days to fall from heaven to earth,
when in reality, as now calculated, it would take no less than
seventy-two years for the light, even travelling at a far greater rate,
to reach us from one of the nearest of the fixed stars.
CHAPTER VII.
THE CELESTIAL HARMONY.
Nature presents herself to us under various aspects. At times, it may
be, she presents to us the appearance of discord, and we fail to
perceive the unity that pervades the whole of her actions. At others,
however, and most often to an instructed mind, there is a concord
between her various powers, a harmony even in her sounds, that will not
escape us. Even the wild notes of the tempest and the bass roll of the
thunder form themselves into part of the grand chorus which in the great
opera are succeeded by the solos of the evening breeze, the songs of
birds, or the ripple of the waves. These are ideas that would most
naturally present themselves to contemplative minds, and such must have
been the students of the silent, but to them harmonious and tuneful,
star-lit sky, under the clear atmosphere of Greece. The various motions
they observed became indissolubly connected in their minds with music,
and they did not doubt that the heavenly spheres made harmony, if
imperceptible to human ears. But their ideas were more precise than
this. They discovered that harmony depended on number, and they
attempted to prove that whether the music they might make were audible
or not, the celestial spheres had motions which were connected together
in the same way as the numbers belonging to a harmony. The study of
their opinions on this point reveals some very curious as well as very
interesting ideas. We may commence by referring to an ancient treatise