SIR ISAAC NEWTON
The little hamlet of Woolsthorpe lies
close to the village of Colsterworth, about six miles
south of Grantham, in the county of Lincoln.
In the manor house of Woolsthorpe, on Christmas Day,
1642, was born to a widowed mother a sickly infant
who seemed not long for this world. Two women
who were sent to North Witham to get some medicine
for him scarcely expected to find him alive on their
return. However, the child lived, became fairly
robust, and was named Isaac, after his father.
What sort of a man this father was we do not know.
He was what we may call a yeoman, that most wholesome
and natural of all classes. He owned the soil
he tilled, and his little estate had already been in
the family for some hundred years. He was thirty-six
when he died, and had only been married a few months.
Of the mother, unfortunately, we know
almost as little. We hear that she was recommended
by a parishioner to the Rev. Barnabas Smith, an old
bachelor in search of a wife, as “the widow Newton an
extraordinary good woman:” and so I expect
she was, a thoroughly sensible, practical, homely,
industrious, middle-class, Mill-on-the-Floss sort of
woman. However, on her second marriage she went
to live at North Witham, and her mother, old Mrs.
Ayscough, came to superintend the farm at Woolsthorpe,
and take care of young Isaac.
By her second marriage his mother
acquired another piece of land, which she settled
on her first son; so Isaac found himself heir to two
little properties, bringing in a rental of about L80
a year.
He had been sent to a couple of village
schools to acquire the ordinary accomplishments taught
at those places, and for three years to the grammar
school at Grantham, then conducted by an old gentleman
named Mr. Stokes. He had not been very industrious
at school, nor did he feel keenly the fascinations
of the Latin Grammar, for he tells us that he was
the last boy in the lowest class but one. He used
to pay much more attention to the construction of
kites and windmills and waterwheels, all of which
he made to work very well. He also used to tie
paper lanterns to the tail of his kite, so as to make
the country folk fancy they saw a comet, and in general
to disport himself as a boy should.
It so happened, however, that he succeeded
in thrashing, in fair fight, a bigger boy who was
higher in the school, and who had given him a kick.
His success awakened a spirit of emulation in other
things than boxing, and young Newton speedily rose
to be top of the school.
Under these circumstances, at the
age of fifteen, his mother, who had now returned to
Woolsthorpe, which had been rebuilt, thought it was
time to train him for the management of his land,
and to make a farmer and grazier of him. The
boy was doubtless glad to get away from school, but
he did not take kindly to the farm especially
not to the marketing at Grantham. He and an old
servant were sent to Grantham every week to buy and
sell produce, but young Isaac used to leave his old
mentor to do all the business, and himself retire
to an attic in the house he had lodged in when at
school, and there bury himself in books.
After a time he didn’t even
go through the farce of visiting Grantham at all;
but stopped on the road and sat under a hedge, reading
or making some model, until his companion returned.
We hear of him now in the great storm
of 1658, the storm on the day Cromwell died, measuring
the force of the wind by seeing how far he could jump
with it and against it. He also made a water-clock
and set it up in the house at Grantham, where it kept
fairly good time so long as he was in the neighbourhood
to look after it occasionally.
At his own home he made a couple of
sundials on the side of the wall (he began by marking
the position of the sun by the shadow of a peg driven
into the wall, but this gradually developed into a
regular dial) one of which remained of use for some
time; and was still to be seen in the same place during
the first half of the present century, only with the
gnomon gone. In 1844 the stone on which it was
carved was carefully extracted and presented to the
Royal Society, who preserve it in their library.
The letters WTON roughly carved on it are barely visible.
All these pursuits must have been
rather trying to his poor mother, and she probably
complained to her brother, the rector of Burton Coggles:
at any rate this gentleman found master Newton one
morning under a hedge when he ought to have been farming.
But as he found him working away at mathematics, like
a wise man he persuaded his sister to send the boy
back to school for a short time, and then to Cambridge.
On the day of his finally leaving school old Mr. Stokes
assembled the boys, made them a speech in praise of
Newton’s character and ability, and then dismissed
him to Cambridge.
At Trinity College a new world opened
out before the country-bred lad. He knew his
classics passably, but of mathematics and science he
was ignorant, except through the smatterings he had
picked up for himself. He devoured a book on
logic, and another on Kepler’s Optics, so fast
that his attendance at lectures on these subjects became
unnecessary. He also got hold of a Euclid and
of Descartes’s Geometry. The Euclid seemed
childishly easy, and was thrown aside, but the Descartes
baffled him for a time. However, he set to it
again and again and before long mastered it.
He threw himself heart and soul into mathematics, and
very soon made some remarkable discoveries. First
he discovered the binomial theorem: familiar
now to all who have done any algebra, unintelligible
to others, and therefore I say nothing about it.
By the age of twenty-one or two he had begun his great
mathematical discovery of infinite series and fluxions now
known by the name of the Differential Calculus.
He wrote these things out and must have been quite
absorbed in them, but it never seems to have occurred
to him to publish them or tell any one about them.
In 1664 he noticed some halos round
the moon, and, as his manner was, he measured their
angles the small ones 3 and 5 degrees each,
the larger one 22 deg..35. Later he gave
their theory.
Small coloured halos round the moon
are often seen, and are said to be a sign of
rain. They are produced by the action of minute
globules of water or cloud particles upon
light, and are brightest when the particles are
nearly equal in size. They are not like the rainbow,
every part of which is due to light that has entered
a raindrop, and been refracted and reflected
with prismatic separation of colours; a halo
is caused by particles so small as to be almost
comparable with the size of waves of light, in a way
which is explained in optics under the head “diffraction.”
It may be easily imitated by dusting an ordinary
piece of window-glass over with lycopodium, placing
a candle near it, and then looking at the candle-flame
through the dusty glass from a fair distance.
Or you may look at the image of a candle in a
dusted looking-glass. Lycopodium dust is
specially suitable, for its granules are remarkably
equal in size. The large halo, more rarely seen,
of angular radius 22 deg..35, is due to
another cause again, and is a prismatic effect,
although it exhibits hardly any colour. The angle
22-1/2 deg. is characteristic of refraction
in crystals with angles of 60 deg. and refractive
index about the same as water; in other words this
halo is caused by ice crystals in the higher regions
of the atmosphere.
He also the same year observed a comet,
and sat up so late watching it that he made himself
ill. By the end of the year he was elected to
a scholarship and took his B.A. degree. The order
of merit for that year never existed or has not been
kept. It would have been interesting, not as
a testimony to Newton, but to the sense or non-sense
of the examiners. The oldest Professorship of
Mathematics at the University of Cambridge, the Lucasian,
had not then been long founded, and its first occupant
was Dr. Isaac Barrow, an eminent mathematician, and
a kind old man. With him Newton made good friends,
and was helpful in preparing a treatise on optics
for the press. His help is acknowledged by Dr.
Barrow in the preface, which states that he had corrected
several errors and made some capital additions of
his own. Thus we see that, although the chief
part of his time was devoted to mathematics, his attention
was already directed to both optics and astronomy.
(Kepler, Descartes, Galileo, all combined some optics
with astronomy. Tycho and the old ones combined
alchemy; Newton dabbled in this also.)
Newton reached the age of twenty-three
in 1665, the year of the Great Plague. The plague
broke out in Cambridge as well as in London, and the
whole college was sent down. Newton went back
to Woolsthorpe, his mind teeming with ideas, and spent
the rest of this year and part of the next in quiet
pondering. Somehow or other he had got hold of
the notion of centrifugal force. It was six years
before Huyghens discovered and published the laws
of centrifugal force, but in some quiet way of his
own Newton knew about it and applied the idea to the
motion of the planets.
We can almost follow the course of
his thoughts as he brooded and meditated on the great
problem which had taxed so many previous thinkers, What
makes the planets move round the sun? Kepler had
discovered how they moved, but why did they so move,
what urged them?
Even the “how” took a
long time all the time of the Greeks, through
Ptolemy, the Arabs, Copernicus, Tycho: circular
motion, epicycles, and excentrics had been the prevailing
theory. Kepler, with his marvellous industry,
had wrested from Tycho’s observations the secret
of their orbits. They moved in ellipses with
the sun in one focus. Their rate of description
of area, not their speed, was uniform and proportional
to time.
Yes, and a third law, a mysterious
law of unintelligible import, had also yielded itself
to his penetrating industry a law the discovery
of which had given him the keenest delight, and excited
an outburst of rapture viz. that there
was a relation between the distances and the periodic
times of the several planets. The cubes of the
distances were proportional to the squares of the
times for the whole system. This law, first found
true for the six primary planets, he had also extended,
after Galileo’s discovery, to the four secondary
planets, or satellites of Jupiter .
But all this was working in the dark it
was only the first step this empirical
discovery of facts; the facts were so, but how came
they so? What made the planets move in this particular
way? Descartes’s vortices was an attempt,
a poor and imperfect attempt, at an explanation.
It had been hailed and adopted throughout Europe for
want of a better, but it did not satisfy Newton.
No, it proceeded on a wrong tack, and Kepler had proceeded
on a wrong tack in imagining spokes or rays sticking
out from the sun and driving the planets round like
a piece of mechanism or mill work. For, note
that all these theories are based on a wrong idea the
idea, viz., that some force is necessary to maintain
a body in motion. But this was contrary to the
laws of motion as discovered by Galileo. You
know that during his last years of blind helplessness
at Arcetri, Galileo had pondered and written
much on the laws of motion, the foundation of mechanics.
In his early youth, at Pisa, he had been similarly
occupied; he had discovered the pendulum, he had refuted
the Aristotelians by dropping weights from the leaning
tower (which we must rejoice that no earthquake has
yet injured), and he had returned to mechanics at
intervals all his life; and now, when his eyes were
useless for astronomy, when the outer world has become
to him only a prison to be broken by death, he returns
once more to the laws of motion, and produces the
most solid and substantial work of his life.
For this is Galileo’s main glory not
his brilliant exposition of the Copernican system,
not his flashes of wit at the expense of a moribund
philosophy, not his experiments on floating bodies,
not even his telescope and astronomical discoveries though
these are the most taking and dazzling at first sight.
No; his main glory and title to immortality consists
in this, that he first laid the foundation of mechanics
on a firm and secure basis of experiment, reasoning,
and observation. He first discovered the true
Laws of Motion.
I said little of this achievement
in my lecture on him; for the work was written towards
the end of his life, and I had no time then. But
I knew I should have to return to it before we came
to Newton, and here we are.
You may wonder how the work got published
when so many of his manuscripts were destroyed.
Horrible to say, Galileo’s own son destroyed
a great bundle of his father’s manuscripts, thinking,
no doubt, thereby to save his own soul. This
book on mechanics was not burnt, however. The
fact is it was rescued by one or other of his pupils,
Toricelli or Viviani, who were allowed to visit him
in his last two or three years; it was kept by them
for some time, and then published surreptitiously in
Holland. Not that there is anything in it bearing
in any visible way on any theological controversy;
but it is unlikely that the Inquisition would have
suffered it to pass notwithstanding.
I have appended to the summary preceding
this lecture the three axioms or laws of
motion discovered by Galileo. They are stated
by Newton with unexampled clearness and accuracy,
and are hence known as Newton’s laws, but they
are based on Galileo’s work. The first is
the simplest; though ignorance of it gave the ancients
a deal of trouble. It is simply a statement that
force is needed to change the motion of a body; i.e.
that if no force act on a body it will continue to
move uniformly both in speed and direction in
other words, steadily, in a straight line. The
old idea had been that some force was needed to maintain
motion. On the contrary, the first law asserts,
some force is needed to destroy it. Leave a body
alone, free from all friction or other retarding forces,
and it will go on for ever. The planetary motion
through empty space therefore wants no keeping up;
it is not the motion that demands a force to maintain
it, it is the curvature of the path that needs a force
to produce it continually. The motion of a planet
is approximately uniform so far as speed is concerned,
but it is not constant in direction; it is nearly
a circle. The real force needed is not a propelling
but a deflecting force.
The second law asserts that when a
force acts, the motion changes, either in speed or
in direction, or both, at a pace proportional to the
magnitude of the force, and in the same direction as
that in which the force acts. Now since it is
almost solely in direction that planetary motion alters,
a deflecting force only is needed; a force at right
angles to the direction of motion, a force normal to
the path. Considering the motion as circular,
a force along the radius, a radial or centripetal
force, must be acting continually. Whirl a weight
round and round by a bit of elastic, the elastic is
stretched; whirl it faster, it is stretched more.
The moving mass pulls at the elastic that
is its centrifugal force; the hand at the centre pulls
also that is centripetal force.
The third law asserts that these two
forces are equal, and together constitute the tension
in the elastic. It is impossible to have one
force alone, there must be a pair. You can’t
push hard against a body that offers no resistance.
Whatever force you exert upon a body, with that same
force the body must react upon you. Action and
reaction are always equal and opposite.
Sometimes an absurd difficulty is
felt with respect to this, even by engineers.
They say, “If the cart pulls against the horse
with precisely the same force as the horse pulls the
cart, why should the cart move?” Why on earth
not? The cart moves because the horse pulls it,
and because nothing else is pulling it back.
“Yes,” they say, “the cart is pulling
back.” But what is it pulling back?
Not itself, surely? “No, the horse.”
Yes, certainly the cart is pulling at the horse; if
the cart offered no resistance what would be the good
of the horse? That is what he is for, to overcome
the pull-back of the cart; but nothing is pulling the
cart back (except, of course, a little friction),
and the horse is pulling it forward, hence it goes
forward. There is no puzzle at all when once you
realise that there are two bodies and two forces acting,
and that one force acts on each body.
If, indeed, two balanced forces acted
on one body that would be in equilibrium, but the
two equal forces contemplated in the third law act
on two different bodies, and neither is in equilibrium.
So much for the third law, which is
extremely simple, though it has extraordinarily far-reaching
consequences, and when combined with a denial of “action
at a distance,” is precisely the principle of
the Conservation of Energy. Attempts at perpetual
motion may all be regarded as attempts to get round
this “third law.”
On the subject of the second
law a great deal more has to be said before it
can be in any proper sense even partially appreciated,
but a complete discussion of it would involve
a treatise on mechanics. It is the
law of mechanics. One aspect of it we must attend
to now in order to deal with the motion of the planets,
and that is the fact that the change of motion
of a body depends solely and simply on the force
acting, and not at all upon what the body happens
to be doing at the time it acts. It may be stationary,
or it may be moving in any direction; that makes
no difference.
Thus, referring back to the summary
preceding Lecture IV, it is there stated that
a dropped body falls 16 feet in the first second,
that in two seconds it falls 64 feet, and so on,
in proportion to the square of the time.
So also will it be the case with a thrown body,
but the drop must be reckoned from its line of motion the
straight line which, but for gravity, it would
describe.
Thus a stone thrown from O with
the velocity OA would in one second find
itself at A, in two seconds at B, in
three seconds at C, and so on, in accordance
with the first law of motion, if no force acted.
But if gravity acts it will have fallen 16 feet by
the time it would have got to A, and so
will find itself at P. In two seconds
it will be at Q, having fallen a vertical height
of 64 feet; in three seconds it will be at R,
144 feet below C; and so on. Its
actual path will be a curve, which in this case is
a parabola. (Fi.)
If a cannon is pointed horizontally
over a level plain, the cannon ball will be just
as much affected by gravity as if it were dropped,
and so will strike the plain at the same instant as
another which was simply dropped where it started.
One ball may have gone a mile and the other only
dropped a hundred feet or so, but the time needed
by both for the vertical drop will be the same.
The horizontal motion of one is an extra, and
is due to the powder.
As a matter of fact the path of a projectile
in vacuo is only approximately a parabola.
It is instructive to remember that it is really
an ellipse with one focus very distant, but not at
infinity. One of its foci is the centre
of the earth. A projectile is really a minute
satellite of the earth’s, and in vacuo it accurately
obeys all Kepler’s laws. It happens
not to be able to complete its orbit, because
it was started inconveniently close to the earth, whose
bulk gets in its way; but in that respect the
earth is to be reckoned as a gratuitous obstruction,
like a target, but a target that differs from
most targets in being hard to miss.
Now consider circular
motion in the same way, say a ball whirled
round by a string. (Fi.)
Attending to the body at O,
it is for an instant moving towards A,
and if no force acted it would get to A in a
time which for brevity we may call a second.
But a force, the pull of the string, is continually
drawing it towards S, and so it really finds
itself at P, having described the circular
arc OP, which may be considered to be
compounded of, and analyzable into the rectilinear
motion OA and the drop AP. At P
it is for an instant moving towards B,
and the same process therefore carries it to
Q; in the third second it gets to R;
and so on: always falling, so to speak,
from its natural rectilinear path, towards the
centre, but never getting any nearer to the centre.
The force with which it has thus to
be constantly pulled in towards the centre, or,
which is the same thing, the force with which it is
tugging at whatever constraint it is that holds
it in, is mv^2/r; where m is the
mass of the particle, v its velocity,
and r the radius of its circle of movement.
This is the formula first given by Huyghens for
centrifugal force.
We shall find it convenient to express
it in terms of the time of one revolution, say
T. It is easily done, since plainly T =
circumference/speed = 2[pi]r/v; so the
above expression for centrifugal force becomes
4[pi]^2mr/T^2.
As to the fall of the body towards
the centre every microscopic unit of time, it
is easily reckoned. For by Euclid II, and
Fi, AP.AA’ = AO^2. Take
A very near O, then OA = vt,
and AA’ = 2r; so AP = v^2t^2/2r
= 2[pi]^2r t^2/T^2; or the fall per second
is 2[pi]^2r/T^2, r being its distance
from the centre, and T its time of going once
round.
In the case of the moon for instance,
r is 60 earth radii; more exactly 60.2;
and T is a lunar month, or more precisely 27
days, 7 hours, 43 minutes, and 11-1/2 seconds.
Hence the moon’s deflection from the tangential
or rectilinear path every minute comes out as
very closely 16 feet (the true size of the earth being
used).
Returning now to the case of a small
body revolving round a big one, and assuming a force
directly proportional to the mass of both bodies, and
inversely proportional to the square of the distance
between them: i.e. assuming the known
force of gravity, it is
V Mm/r^2
where V is a constant, called
the gravitation constant, to be determined by experiment.
If this is the centripetal force pulling
a planet or satellite in, it must be equal to the
centrifugal force of this latter, viz. (see above).
4[pi]^2mr/T^2
Equate the two together, and at once we get
r^3/T^2 = V/4[pi]^2M;
or, in words, the cube of the distance
divided by the square of the periodic time for every
planet or satellite of the system under consideration,
will be constant and proportional to the mass of the
central body.
This is Kepler’s third law,
with a notable addition. It is stated above for
circular motion only, so as to avoid geometrical difficulties,
but even so it is very instructive. The reason
of the proportion between r^3 and T^2
is at once manifest; and as soon as the constant V
became known, the mass of the central body,
the sun in the case of a planet, the earth in the
case of the moon, Jupiter in the case of his satellites,
was at once determined.
Newton’s reasoning at this time
might, however, be better displayed perhaps by altering
the order of the steps a little, as thus:
The centrifugal force of a body is
proportional to r^3/T^2, but by Kepler’s
third law r^3/T^2 is constant for all the planets,
reckoning r from the sun. Hence the centripetal
force needed to hold in all the planets will be a
single force emanating from the sun and varying inversely
with the square of the distance from that body.
Such a force is at once necessary
and sufficient. Such a force would explain the
motion of the planets.
But then all this proceeds on a wrong
assumption that the planetary motion is
circular. Will it hold for elliptic orbits?
Will an inverse square law of force keep a body moving
in an elliptic orbit about the sun in one focus?
This is a far more difficult question. Newton
solved it, but I do not believe that even he could
have solved it, except that he had at his disposal
two mathematical engines of great power the
Cartesian method of treating geometry, and his own
method of Fluxions. One can explain the
elliptic motion now mathematically, but hardly otherwise;
and I must be content to state that the double fact
is true viz., that an inverse square law
will move the body in an ellipse or other conic section
with the sun in one focus, and that if a body so moves
it must be acted on by an inverse square law.
This then is the meaning of the first
and third laws of Kepler. What about the second?
What is the meaning of the equable description of
areas? Well, that rigorously proves that a planet
is acted on by a force directed to the centre about
which the rate of description of areas is equable.
It proves, in fact, that the sun is the attracting
body, and that no other force acts.
For first of all if the first law of
motion is obeyed, i.e. if no force acts,
and if the path be equally subdivided to represent
equal times, and straight lines be drawn from
the divisions to any point whatever, all these
areas thus enclosed will be equal, because they
are triangles on equal base and of the same height
(Euclid, I). See Fi; S being
any point whatever, and A, B, C,
successive positions of a body.
Now at each of the successive instants
let the body receive a sudden blow in the direction
of that same point S, sufficient to carry
it from A to D in the same time as it
would have got to B if left alone.
The result will be that there will be a compromise,
and it will really arrive at P, travelling along
the diagonal of the parallelogram AP.
The area its radius vector sweeps out is therefore
SAP, instead of what it would have been, SAB.
But then these two areas are equal, because they are
triangles on the same base AS, and between
the same parallels BP, AS; for
by the parallelogram law BP is parallel to AD.
Hence the area that would have been described
is described, and as all the areas were equal
in the case of no force, they remain equal when
the body receives a blow at the end of every equal
interval of time, provided that every
blow is actually directed to S, the point
to which radii vectores are drawn.
It is instructive to see that it does
not hold if the blow is any otherwise directed;
for instance, as in Fi, when the blow is along
AE, the body finds itself at P at the
end of the second interval, but the area SAP
is by no means equal to SAB, and therefore
not equal to SOA, the area swept out in the
first interval.
In order to modify Fi so as to
represent continuous motion and steady forces,
we have to take the sides of the polygon OAPQ,
&c., very numerous and very small; in the limit,
infinitely numerous and infinitely small.
The path then becomes a curve, and the series
of blows becomes a steady force directed towards S.
About whatever point therefore the rate of description
of areas is uniform, that point and no other
must be the centre of all the force there is.
If there be no force, as in Fi, well and good,
but if there be any force however small not directed
towards S, then the rate of description
of areas about S cannot be uniform. Kepler,
however, says that the rate of description of areas
of each planet about the sun is, by Tycho’s
observations, uniform; hence the sun is the centre
of all the force that acts on them, and there is
no other force, not even friction. That is the
moral of Kepler’s second law.
We may also see from it that gravity
does not travel like light, so as to take time
on its journey from sun to planet; for, if it did,
there would be a sort of aberration, and the force
on its arrival could no longer be accurately
directed to the centre of the sun. (See
Nature, vol. xlvi., .) It is a matter
for accuracy of observation, therefore, to decide
whether the minutest trace of such deviation
can be detected, i.e. within what limits of
accuracy Kepler’s second law is now known
to be obeyed.
I will content myself
by saying that the limits are extremely
narrow. [Reference may
be made also to .]
Thus then it became clear to Newton
that the whole solar system depended on a central
force emanating from the sun, and varying inversely
with the square of the distance from him: for
by that hypothesis all the laws of Kepler concerning
these motions were completely accounted for; and,
in fact, the laws necessitated the hypothesis and established
it as a theory.
Similarly the satellites of Jupiter
were controlled by a force emanating from Jupiter
and varying according to the same law. And again
our moon must be controlled by a force from the earth,
decreasing with the distance according to the same
law.
Grant this hypothetical attracting
force pulling the planets towards the sun, pulling
the moon towards the earth, and the whole mechanism
of the solar system is beautifully explained.
If only one could be sure there was
such a force! It was one thing to calculate out
what the effects of such a force would be: it
was another to be able to put one’s finger upon
it and say, this is the force that actually exists
and is known to exist. We must picture him meditating
in his garden on this want an attractive
force towards the earth.
If only such an attractive force pulling
down bodies to the earth existed. An apple falls
from a tree. Why, it does exist! There is
gravitation, common gravity that makes bodies fall
and gives them their weight.
Wanted, a force tending towards the
centre of the earth. It is to hand!
It is common old gravity that had
been known so long, that was perfectly familiar to
Galileo, and probably to Archimedes. Gravity that
regulates the motion of projectiles. Why should
it only pull stones and apples? Why should it
not reach as high as the moon? Why should it not
be the gravitation of the sun that is the central
force acting on all the planets?
Surely the secret of the universe
is discovered! But, wait a bit; is it discovered?
Is this force of gravity sufficient for the purpose?
It must vary inversely with the square of the distance
from the centre of the earth. How far is the
moon away? Sixty earth’s radii. Hence
the force of gravity at the moon’s distance
can only be 1/3600 of what it is on the earth’s
surface. So, instead of pulling it 16 ft. per
second, it should pull it 16/3600 ft. per second,
or 16 ft. a minute. How can one decide whether
such a force is able to pull the moon the actual amount
required? To Newton this would seem only like
a sum in arithmetic. Out with a pencil and paper
and reckon how much the moon falls toward the earth
in every second of its motion. Is it 16/3600?
That is what it ought to be: but is it?
The size of the earth comes into the calculation.
Sixty miles make a degree, 360 degrees a circumference.
This gives as the earth’s diameter 6,873 miles;
work it out.
The answer is not 16 feet a minute, it is 13.9 feet.
Surely a mistake of calculation?
No, it is no mistake: there is
something wrong in the theory, gravity is too strong.
Instead of falling toward the earth
5-1/3 hundredths of an inch every second, as it would
under gravity, the moon only falls 4-2/3 hundredths
of an inch per second.
With such a discovery in his grasp
at the age of twenty-three he is disappointed the
figures do not agree, and he cannot make them agree.
Either gravity is not the force in action, or else
something interferes with it. Possibly, gravity
does part of the work, and the vortices of Descartes
interfere with it.
He must abandon the fascinating idea
for the time. In his own words, “he laid
aside at that time any further thought of the matter.”
So far as is known, he never mentioned
his disappointment to a soul. He might, perhaps,
if he had been at Cambridge, but he was a shy and
solitary youth, and just as likely he might not.
Up in Lincolnshire, in the seventeenth century, who
was there for him to consult?
True, he might have rushed into premature
publication, after our nineteenth century fashion,
but that was not his method. Publication never
seemed to have occurred to him.
His reticence now is noteworthy, but
later on it is perfectly astonishing. He is so
absorbed in making discoveries that he actually has
to be reminded to tell any one about them, and some
one else always has to see to the printing and publishing
for him.
I have entered thus fully into what
I conjecture to be the stages of this early discovery
of the law of gravitation, as applicable to the heavenly
bodies, because it is frequently and commonly misunderstood.
It is sometimes thought that he discovered the force
of gravity; I hope I have made it clear that he did
no such thing. Every educated man long before
his time, if asked why bodies fell, would reply just
as glibly as they do now, “Because the earth
attracts them,” or “because of the force
of gravity.”
His discovery was that the motions
of the solar system were due to the action of a central
force, directed to the body at the centre of the system,
and varying inversely with the square of the distance
from it. This discovery was based upon Kepler’s
laws, and was clear and certain. It might have
been published had he so chosen.
But he did not like hypothetical and
unknown forces; he tried to see whether the known
force of gravity would serve. This discovery at
that time he failed to make, owing to a wrong numerical
datum. The size of the earth he only knew from
the common doctrine of sailors that 60 miles make
a degree; and that threw him out. Instead of falling
16 feet a minute, as it ought under gravity, it only
fell 13.9 feet, so he abandoned the idea. We
do not find that he returned to it for sixteen years.