Chapter II. GEOGRAPHY

                              


I.  THE FORM OF THE EARTH.



Among various rude tribes we find survivals of a primitive idea

that the earth is a flat table or disk, ceiled, domed, or

canopied by the sky, and that the sky rests upon the mountains as

pillars.  Such a belief is entirely natural; it conforms to the

appearance of things, and hence at a very early period entered

into various theologies.



In the civilizations of Chaldea and Egypt it was very fully

developed.  The Assyrian inscriptions deciphered in these latter

years represent the god Marduk as in the beginning creating the

heavens and the earth:  the earth rests upon the waters; within

it is the realm of the dead; above it is spread "the

firmament"--a solid dome coming down to the horizon on all sides

and resting upon foundations laid in the "great waters" which

extend around the earth.



On the east and west sides of this domed firmament are doors,

through which the sun enters in the morning and departs at night;

above it extends another ocean, which goes down to the ocean

surrounding the earth at the horizon on all sides, and which is

supported and kept away from the earth by the firmament.  Above

the firmament and the upper ocean which it supports is the

interior of heaven.



The Egyptians considered the earth as a table, flat and oblong,

the sky being its ceiling--a huge "firmament" of metal.  At the

four corners of the earth were the pillars supporting this

firmament, and on this solid sky were the "waters above the

heavens."  They believed that, when chaos was taking form, one of

the gods by main force raised the waters on high and spread them

out over the firmament; that on the under side of this solid

vault, or ceiling, or firmament, the stars were suspended to

light the earth, and that the rains were caused by the letting

down of the waters through its windows.  This idea and others

connected with it seem to have taken strong hold of the Egyptian

priestly caste, entering into their theology and sacred science:

ceilings of great temples, with stars, constellations, planets,

and signs of the zodiac figured upon them, remain to-day as

striking evidences of this.



In Persia we have theories of geography based upon similar

conceptions and embalmed in sacred texts.



From these and doubtless from earlier sources common to them all

came geographical legacies to the Hebrews.  Various passages in

their sacred books, many of them noble in conception and

beautiful in form, regarding "the foundation of the earth upon

the waters," "the fountains of the great deep," "the compass upon

the face of the depth," the "firmament," the "corners of the

earth," the "pillars of heaven," the "waters above the

firmament," the "windows of heaven," and "doors of heaven," point

us back to both these ancient springs of thought.[25]



[25] For survivals of the early idea, among the Eskimos, of the

sky as supported by mountains, and, among sundry Pacific

islanders, of the sky as a firmament or vault of stone, see

Tylor, Early History of Mankind, second edition, London, 1870,

chap. xi; Spencer, Sociology, vol. i, chap vii, also Andrew Lang,

La Mythologie, Paris, 1886, pp. 68-73.  For the Babylonian

theories, see George Smith's Chaldean Genesis, and especially the

German translation by Delitzsch, Leipsic, 1876; also, Jensen, Die

Kosmogonien der Babylonier, Strasburg, 1890; see especially in

the appendices, pp. 9 and 10, a drawing representing the whole

Babylonian scheme so closely followed in the Hebrew book Genesis.

See also Lukas, Die Grundbegriffe in den Kosmogonien der alten

Volker, Leipsic, 1893, for a most thorough summing up of the

whole subject, with texts showing the development of Hebrew out

of Chaldean and Egyptian conceptions, pp. 44, etc.; also pp. 127

et seq. For the early view in India and Persia, see citations

from the Vedas and the Zend-Avesta in Lethaby, Architecture,

Mysticism, and Myth, chap. i.  For the Egyptian view, see

Champollion; also Lenormant, Histoire Ancienne, Maspero, and

others.  As to the figures of the heavens upon the ceilings of

Egyptian temples, see Maspero, Archeologie Egyptienne, Paris,

1890; and for engravings of them, see Lepsius, Denkmaler, vol. i,

Bl. 41, and vol. ix, Abth. iv, Bl. 35; also the Description de

l'Egypte, published by order of Napoleon, tome ii, Pl. 14; also

Prisse d'Avennes, Art Egyptien, Atlas, tome i, Pl. 35; and

especially for a survival at the Temple of Denderah, see Denon,

Voyage en Egypte, Planches 129, 130.  For the Egyptian idea of

"pillars of heaven," as alluded to on the stele of victory of

Thotmes III,in the Cairo Museum, see Ebers, Uarda, vol. ii,p.

175, note, Leipsic, 1877.  For a similar Babylonian belief, see

Sayce's Herodotus, Appendix, p. 403.  For the belief of Hebrew

scriptural writers in a solid "firmament," see especially Job,

xxxviii, 18; also Smith's Bible Dictionary.  For engravings

showing the earth and heaven above it as conceived by Egyptians

and Chaldeans, with "pillars of heaven" and "firmament," see

Maspero and Sayce, Dawn of Civilization, London, 1894, pp. 17 and

543.





But, as civilization was developed, there were evolved,

especially among the Greeks, ideas of the earth's sphericity.

The Pythagoreans, Plato, and Aristotle especially cherished them.

These ideas were vague, they were mixed with absurdities, but

they were germ ideas, and even amid the luxuriant growth of

theology in the early Christian Church these germs began

struggling into life in the minds of a few thinking men, and

these men renewed the suggestion that the earth is a globe.[26]



[26] The agency of the Pythagoreans in first spreading the

doctrine of the earth's sphericity is generally acknowledged, but

the first full and clear utterance of it to the world was by

Aristotle.  Very fruitful, too, was the statement of the new

theory given by Plato in the Timaeus; see Jowett's translation,

62, c.  Also the Phaedo, pp.449 et seq.  See also Grote on

Plato's doctrine on the sphericity of the earth; also Sir G. C.

Lewis's Astronomy of the Ancients, London, 1862, chap. iii,

section i, and note.  Cicero's mention of the antipodes, and his

reference to the passage in the Timaeus, are even more remarkable

than the latter, in that they much more clearly foreshadow the

modern doctrine.  See his Academic Questions, ii; also Tusc.

Quest., i and v, 24.  For a very full summary of the views of the

ancients on the sphericity of the earth, see Kretschmer, Die

physische Erkunde im christlichen Mittelalter, Wien, 1889, pp. 35

et seq.; also Eiken, Geschichte der mittelalterlichen

Weltanschauung, Stuttgart, 1887, Dritter Theil, chap. vi.  For

citations and summaries, see Whewell, Hist. Induct. Sciences,

vol. i, p. 189, and St. Martin, Hist. de la Geog., Paris, 1873,

p. 96; also Leopardi, Saggio sopra gli errori popolari degli

antichi, Firenze, 1851, chap. xii, pp. 184 et seq.





A few of the larger-minded fathers of the Church, influenced

possibly by Pythagorean traditions, but certainly by Aristotle

and Plato, were willing to accept this view, but the majority of

them took fright at once.  To them it seemed fraught with dangers

to Scripture, by which, of course, they meant their

interpretation of Scripture.  Among the first who took up arms

against it was Eusebius.  In view of the New Testament texts

indicating the immediately approaching, end of the world, he

endeavoured to turn off this idea by bringing scientific studies

into contempt.  Speaking of investigators, he said, "It is not

through ignorance of the things admired by them, but through

contempt of their useless labour, that we think little of these

matters, turning our souls to better things."  Basil of Caesarea

declared it "a matter of no interest to us whether the earth is a

sphere or a cylinder or a disk, or concave in the middle like a

fan."  Lactantius referred to the ideas of those studying

astronomy as "bad and senseless," and opposed the doctrine of the

earth's sphericity both from Scripture and reason.  St. John

Chrysostom also exerted his influence against this scientific

belief; and Ephraem Syrus, the greatest man of the old Syrian

Church, widely known as the "lute of the Holy Ghost," opposed it

no less earnestly.



But the strictly biblical men of science, such eminent fathers

and bishops as Theophilus of Antioch in the second century, and

Clement of Alexandria in the third, with others in centuries

following, were not content with merely opposing what they

stigmatized as an old heathen theory; they drew from their

Bibles a new Christian theory, to which one Church authority

added one idea and another, until it was fully developed.  Taking

the survival of various early traditions, given in the seventh

verse of the first chapter of Genesis, they insisted on the clear

declarations of Scripture that the earth was, at creation, arched

over with a solid vault, "a firmament," and to this they added

the passages from Isaiah and the Psalms, in which it declared

that the heavens are stretched out "like a curtain," and again

"like a tent to dwell in."  The universe, then, is like a house:

the earth is its ground floor, the firmament its ceiling, under

which the Almighty hangs out the sun to rule the day and the moon

and stars to rule the night.  This ceiling is also the floor of

the apartment above, and in this is a cistern, shaped, as one of

the authorities says, "like a bathing-tank," and containing "the

waters which are above the firmament."  These waters are let down

upon the earth by the Almighty and his angels through the

"windows of heaven."  As to the movement of the sun, there was a

citation of various passages in Genesis, mixed with metaphysics

in various proportions, and this was thought to give ample proofs

from the Bible that the earth could not be a sphere.[27]



[27] For Eusebius, see the Proep. Ev., xv, 61.  For Basil, see

the Hexaemeron, Hom. ix.  For Lactantius, see his Inst. Div.,

lib. iii, cap. 3; also citations in Whewell, Hist. Induct.

Sciences, London, 1857, vol. i, p. 194, and in St. Martin,

Histoire de la Geographie, pp. 216, 217.  For the views of St.

John Chrysostom, Ephraem Syrus, and other great churchmen, see

Kretschmer as above, chap i.





In the sixth century this development culminated in what was

nothing less than a complete and detailed system of the universe,

claiming to be based upon Scripture, its author being the

Egyptian monk Cosmas Indicopleustes.  Egypt was a great

treasure-house of theologic thought to various religions of

antiquity, and Cosmas appears to have urged upon the early Church

this Egyptian idea of the construction of the world, just as

another Egyptian ecclesiastic, Athanasius, urged upon the Church

the Egyptian idea of a triune deity ruling the world.  According

to Cosmas, the earth is a parallelogram, flat, and surrounded by

four seas.  It is four hundred days' journey long and two hundred

broad.  At the outer edges of these four seas arise massive walls

closing in the whole structure and supporting the firmament or

vault of the heavens, whose edges are cemented to the walls.

These walls inclose the earth and all the heavenly bodies.



The whole of this theologico-scientific structure was built most

carefully and, as was then thought, most scripturally.  Starting

with the expression applied in the ninth chapter of Hebrews to

the tabernacle in the desert, Cosmas insists, with other

interpreters of his time, that it gives the key to the whole

construction of the world.  The universe is, therefore, made on

the plan of the Jewish tabernacle--boxlike and oblong.  Going

into details, he quotes the sublime words of Isaiah:  "It is He

that sitteth upon the circle of the earth;...that stretcheth out

the heavens like a curtain, and spreadeth them out like a tent to

dwell in"; and the passage in Job which speaks of the "pillars of

heaven."  He works all this into his system, and reveals, as he

thinks, treasures of science.



This vast box is divided into two compartments, one above the

other.  In the first of these, men live and stars move; and it

extends up to the first solid vault, or firmament, above which

live the angels, a main part of whose business it is to push and

pull the sun and planets to and fro.  Next, he takes the text,

"Let there be a firmament in the midst of the waters, and let it

divide the waters from the waters," and other texts from Genesis;

to these he adds the text from the Psalms, "Praise him, ye heaven

of heavens, and ye waters that be above the heavens" then casts

all, and these growths of thought into his crucible together,

finally brings out the theory that over this first vault is a

vast cistern containing "the waters."  He then takes the

expression in Genesis regarding the "windows of heaven" and

establishes a doctrine regarding the regulation of the rain, to

the effect that the angels not only push and pull the heavenly

bodies to light the earth, but also open and close the heavenly

windows to water it.



To understand the surface of the earth, Cosmas, following the

methods of interpretation which Origen and other early fathers of

the Church had established, studies the table of shew-bread in

the Jewish tabernacle.  The surface of this table proves to him

that the earth is flat, and its dimensions prove that the earth

is twice as long as broad; its four corners symbolize the four

seasons; the twelve loaves of bread, the twelve months; the

hollow about the table proves that the ocean surrounds the earth.

To account for the movement of the sun, Cosmas suggests that at

the north of the earth is a great mountain, and that at night the

sun is carried behind this; but some of the commentators

ventured to express a doubt here:  they thought that the sun was

pushed into a pit at night and pulled out in the morning.



Nothing can be more touching in its simplicity than Cosmas's

summing up of his great argument, He declares, "We say therefore

with Isaiah that the heaven embracing the universe is a vault,

with Job that it is joined to the earth, and with Moses that the

length of the earth is greater than its breadth."  The treatise

closes with rapturous assertions that not only Moses and the

prophets, but also angels and apostles, agree to the truth of his

doctrine, and that at the last day God will condemn all who do

not accept it.



Although this theory was drawn from Scripture, it was also, as we

have seen, the result of an evolution of theological thought

begun long before the scriptural texts on which it rested were

written.  It was not at all strange that Cosmas, Egyptian as he

was, should have received this old Nile-born doctrine, as we see

it indicated to-day in the structure of Egyptian temples, and

that he should have developed it by the aid of the Jewish

Scriptures; but the theological world knew nothing of this more

remote evolution from pagan germs; it was received as virtually

inspired, and was soon regarded as a fortress of scriptural

truth.  Some of the foremost men in the Church devoted themselves

to buttressing it with new texts and throwing about it new

outworks of theological reasoning; the great body of the

faithful considered it a direct gift from the Almighty.  Even in

the later centuries of the Middle Ages John of San Geminiano made

a desperate attempt to save it.  Like Cosmas, he takes the Jewish

tabernacle as his starting-point, and shows how all the newer

ideas can be reconciled with the biblical accounts of its shape,

dimensions, and furniture.[28]



[28] For a notice of the views of Cosmas in connection with those

of Lactantius, Augustine, St. John Chrysostom, and others, see

Schoell, Histoire de la Litterature Grecque, vol. vii, p. 37.

The main scriptural passages referred to are as follows: (1)

Isaiah xi, 22; (2) Genesis i, 6; (3) Genesis vii, 11; (4) Exodus

xxiv, 10; (5) Job xxvi, 11, and xxxvii, 18 (6) Psalm cxlviii, 4,

and civ, 9; (7) Ezekiel i, 22-26.  For Cosmas's theory, see

Montfaucon, Collectio Nova Patrum, Paris, 1706, vol. ii, p.188;

also pp. 298, 299.  The text is illustrated with engravings

showing walls and solid vault (firmament), with the whole

apparatus of "fountains of the great deep," "windows of heaven,"

angels, and the mountain behind which the sun is drawn.  For

reduction of one of them, see Peschel, Gesschichte der Erdkunds,

p. 98; also article Maps, in Knight's Dictionary of Mechanics,

New York, 1875.  For curious drawings showing Cosmas's scheme in

a different way from that given by Montfaucon, see extracts from a

Vatican codex of the ninth century in Garucci, Storia de l'Arte

Christiana, vol. iii, pp. 70 et seq.  For a good discussion of

Cosmas's ideas, see Santarem, Hist. de la Cosmographie, vol. ii,

pp. 8 et seq., and for a very thorough discussion of its details,

Kretschmer, as above.  For still another theory, very droll, and

thought out on similar principles, see Mungo Park, cited in De

Morgan, Paradoxes, p. 309.  For Cosmas's joyful summing up, see

Montfaucon, Collectio Nova Patrum, vol. ii, p. 255.  For the

curious survival in the thirteenth century of the old idea of the

"waters above the heavens," see the story in Gervase of Tilbury,

how in his time some people coming out of church in England found

an anchor let down by a rope out of the heavens, how there came

voices from sailors above trying to loose the anchor, and,

finally, how a sailor came down the rope, who, on reaching the

earth, died as if drowned in water.  See Gervase of Tilbury, Otia

Imperialia, edit. Liebrecht, Hanover, 1856, Prima Decisio, cap.

xiii. The work was written about 1211.  For John of San

Germiniano, see his Summa de Exemplis, lib. ix, cap. 43.  For the

Egyptian Trinitarian views, see Sharpe, History of Egypt, vol. i,

pp. 94, 102.





From this old conception of the universe as a sort of house, with

heaven as its upper story and the earth as its ground floor,

flowed important theological ideas into heathen, Jewish, and

Christian mythologies.  Common to them all are legends regarding

attempts of mortals to invade the upper apartment from the lower.

Of such are the Greek legends of the Aloidae, who sought to reach

heaven by piling up mountains, and were cast down; the Chaldean

and Hebrew legends of the wicked who at Babel sought to build "a

tower whose top may reach heaven," which Jehovah went down from

heaven to see, and which he brought to naught by the "confusion

of tongues"; the Hindu legend of the tree which sought to grow

into heaven and which Brahma blasted; and the Mexican legend of

the giants who sought to reach heaven by building the Pyramid of

Cholula, and who were overthrown by fire from above.



Myths having this geographical idea as their germ developed in

luxuriance through thousands of years.  Ascensions to heaven and

descents from it, "translations," "assumptions," "annunciations,"

mortals "caught up" into it and returning, angels flying between

it and the earth, thunderbolts hurled down from it, mighty winds

issuing from its corners, voices speaking from the upper floor to

men on the lower, temporary openings of the floor of heaven to

reveal the blessedness of the good, "signs and wonders" hung out

from it to warn the wicked, interventions of every kind--from the

heathen gods coming down on every sort of errand, and Jehovah

coming down to walk in Eden in the cool of the day, to St. Mark

swooping down into the market-place of Venice to break the

shackles of a slave--all these are but features in a vast

evolution of myths arising largely from this geographical germ.



Nor did this evolution end here.  Naturally, in this view of

things, if heaven was a loft, hell was a cellar; and if there

were ascensions into one, there were descents into the other.

Hell being so near, interferences by its occupants with the

dwellers of the earth just above were constant, and form a vast

chapter in medieval literature.  Dante made this conception of

the location of hell still more vivid, and we find some forms of

it serious barriers to geographical investigation.  Many a bold

navigator, who was quite ready to brave pirates and tempests,

trembled at the thought of tumbling with his ship into one of the

openings into hell which a widespread belief placed in the

Atlantic at some unknown distance from Europe.  This terror among

sailors was one of the main obstacles in the great voyage of

Columbus.  In a medieval text-book, giving science the form of a

dialogue, occur the following question and answer:  "Why is the

sun so red in the evening?" "Because he looketh down upon hell."



But the ancient germ of scientific truth in geography--the idea

of the earth's sphericity--still lived.  Although the great

majority of the early fathers of the Church, and especially

Lactantius, had sought to crush it beneath the utterances

attributed to Isaiah, David, and St. Paul, the better opinion of

Eudoxus and Aristotle could not be forgotten.  Clement of

Alexandria and Origen had even supported it.  Ambrose and

Augustine had tolerated it, and, after Cosmas had held sway a

hundred years, it received new life from a great churchman of

southern Europe, Isidore of Seville, who, however fettered by the

dominant theology in many other things, braved it in this.  In

the eighth century a similar declaration was made in the north of

Europe by another great Church authority, Bede.  Against the new

life thus given to the old truth, the sacred theory struggled

long and vigorously but in vain.  Eminent authorities in later

ages, like Albert the Great, St. Thomas Aquinas, Dante, and

Vincent of Beauvais, felt obliged to accept the doctrine of the

earth's sphericity, and as we approach the modern period we find

its truth acknowledged by the vast majority of thinking men.  The

Reformation did not at first yield fully to this better theory.

Luther, Melanchthon, and Calvin were very strict in their

adherence to the exact letter of Scripture.  Even Zwingli, broad

as his views generally were, was closely bound down in this

matter, and held to the opinion of the fathers that a great

firmament, or floor, separated the heavens from the earth; that

above it were the waters and angels, and below it the earth and

man.



The main scope given to independent thought on this general

subject among the Reformers was in a few minor speculations

regarding the universe which encompassed Eden, the exact

character of the conversation of the serpent with Eve, and the

like.



In the times immediately following the Reformation matters were

even worse.  The interpretations of Scripture by Luther and

Calvin became as sacred to their followers as the Scripture

itself.  When Calixt ventured, in interpreting the Psalms, to

question the accepted belief that "the waters above the heavens"

were contained in a vast receptacle upheld by a solid vault, he

was bitterly denounced as heretical.



In the latter part of the sixteenth century Musaeus interpreted

the accounts in Genesis to mean that first God made the heavens

for the roof or vault, and left it there on high swinging until

three days later he put the earth under it.  But the new

scientific thought as to the earth's form had gained the day.

The most sturdy believers were obliged to adjust their, biblical

theories to it as best they could.[29]



[29] For a discussion of the geographical views of Isidore and

Bede, see Santarem, Cosmographie, vol i, pp. 22-24.  For the

gradual acceptance of the idea of the earth's sphericity after

the eighth century, see Kretschmer, pp. 51 et seq., where

citations from a multitude of authors are given.  For the views

of the Reformers, see Zockler, vol. i, pp. 679 and 693.  For

Calixt, Musaeus, and others, ibid., pp. 673-677 and 761.









II.  THE DELINEATION OF THE EARTH.





Every great people of antiquity, as a rule, regarded its own

central city or most holy place as necessarily the centre of the

earth.



The Chaldeans held that their "holy house of the gods" was the

centre.  The Egyptians sketched the world under the form of a

human figure, in which Egypt was the heart, and the centre of it

Thebes.  For the Assyrians, it was Babylon; for the Hindus, it

was Mount Meru; for the Greeks, so far as the civilized world was

concerned, Olympus or the temple at Delphi; for the modern

Mohammedans, it is Mecca and its sacred stone; the Chinese, to

this day, speak of their empire as the "middle kingdom."  It was

in accordance, then, with a simple tendency of human thought that

the Jews believed the centre of the world to be Jerusalem.



The book of Ezekiel speaks of Jerusalem as in the middle of the

earth, and all other parts of the world as set around the holy

city.  Throughout the "ages of faith" this was very generally

accepted as a direct revelation from the Almighty regarding the

earth's form.  St. Jerome, the greatest authority of the early

Church upon the Bible, declared, on the strength of this

utterance of the prophet, that Jerusalem could be nowhere but at

the earth's centre; in the ninth century Archbishop Rabanus

Maurus reiterated the same argument; in the eleventh century

Hugh of St. Victor gave to the doctrine another scriptural

demonstration; and Pope Urban, in his great sermon at Clermont

urging the Franks to the crusade, declared, "Jerusalem is the

middle point of the earth"; in the thirteenth century an

ecclesiastical writer much in vogue, the monk Caesarius of

Heisterbach, declared, "As the heart in the midst of the body, so

is Jerusalem situated in the midst of our inhabited earth,"--"so

it was that Christ was crucified at the centre of the earth."

Dante accepted this view of Jerusalem as a certainty, wedding it

to immortal verse; and in the pious book of travels ascribed to

Sir John Mandeville, so widely read in the Middle Ages, it is

declared that Jerusalem is at the centre of the world, and that a

spear standing erect at the Holy Sepulchre casts no shadow at the

equinox.



Ezekiel's statement thus became the standard of orthodoxy to

early map-makers.  The map of the world at Hereford Cathedral,

the maps of Andrea Bianco, Marino Sanuto, and a multitude of

others fixed this view in men's minds, and doubtless discouraged

during many generations any scientific statements tending to

unbalance this geographical centre revealed in Scripture.[30]



[30] For beliefs of various nations of antiquity that the earth's

center was in their most sacred place, see citations from

Maspero, Charton, Sayce, and others in Lethaby, Architecture,

Mysticism, and Myth, chap. iv.  As to the Greeks, we have typical

statements in the Eumenides of Aeschylus, where the stone in the

altar at Delphi is repeatedly called "the earth's navel"--which

is precisely the expression used regarding Jerusalem in the

Septuagint translation of Ezekiel (see below).  The proof texts

on which the mediaeval geographers mainly relied as to the form

of the earth were Ezekiel v, 5, and xxxviii, 12.  The progress of

geographical knowledge evidently caused them to be softened down

somewhat in our King James's version; but the first of them

reads, in the Vulgate, "Ista est Hierusalem, in medio gentium

posui eam et in circuitu ejus terrae"; and the second reads, in

the Vulgate, "in medio terrae," and in the Septuagint, .

That the literal centre of the earth was understood, see proof in

St. Jerome, Commentat. in Ezekiel, lib. ii; and for general

proof, see Leopardi, Saggio sopra gli errori popolari degli

antichi, pp. 207, 208.  For Rabanus Maurus, see his De Universo,

lib. xii, cap. 4, in Migne, tome cxi, p. 339.  For Hugh of St.

Victor, se his De Situ Terrarum, cap. ii.  For Dante's belief,

see Inferno, canto xxxiv, 112-115:



"E se' or sotto l'emisperio giunto,

  Ch' e opposito a quel che la gran secca

Coverchia, e sotto il cui colmo consunto

  Fu l'uom che nacque e visse senza pecca."



For orthodox geography in the Middle Ages, see Wright's Essays on

Archaeology, vol. ii, chapter on the map of the world in Hereford

Cathedral; also the rude maps in Cardinal d'Ailly's Ymago Mundi;

also copies of maps of Marino Sanuto and others in Peschel,

Erdkunde, p. 210; also Munster, Fac Simile dell' Atlante di

Andrea Bianco, Venezia, 1869.  And for discussions of the whole

subject, see Satarem, vol. ii, p. 295, vol. iii, pp. 71, 183,

184, and elsewhere.  For a brief summary with citations, see

Eiken, Geschichte, etc., pp. 622, 623.





Nor did medieval thinkers rest with this conception.  In

accordance with the dominant view that physical truth must be

sought by theological reasoning, the doctrine was evolved that

not only the site of the cross on Calvary marked the geographical

centre of the world, but that on this very spot had stood the

tree which bore the forbidden fruit in Eden.  Thus was geography

made to reconcile all parts of the great theologic plan.  This

doctrine was hailed with joy by multitudes; and we find in the

works of medieval pilgrims to Palestine, again and again,

evidence that this had become precious truth to them, both in

theology and geography.  Even as late as 1664 the eminent French

priest Eugene Roger, in his published travels in Palestine, dwelt

upon the thirty-eighth chapter of Ezekiel, coupled with a text

from Isaiah, to prove that the exact centre of the earth is a

spot marked on the pavement of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre,

and that on this spot once stood the tree which bore the

forbidden fruit and the cross of Christ.[31]



[31] For the site of the cross on Calvary, as the point where

stood "the tree of the knowledge of good and evil" in Eden, at

the centre of the earth, see various Eastern travellers cited in

Tobler; but especially the travels of Bishop Arculf in the Holy

Land, in Wright's Early Travels in Palestine, p. 8; also Travels

of Saewulf, ibid, p. 38; also Sir John Mandeville, ibid., pp.

166, 167.  For Roger, see his La Terre Saincte, Paris, 1664, pp.

89-217, etc.; see also Quaresmio, Terrae Sanctae Elucidatio,

1639, for similar view; and, for one narrative in which the idea

was developed into an amazing mass of pious myths, see Pilgrimage

of the Russian Abbot Daniel, edited by Sir C. W. Wilson, London,

1885, p. 14. (The passage deserves to be quoted as an example of

myth-making; it is as follows: "At the time of our Lord's

crucifixion, when he gave up the ghost on the cross, the veil of

the temple was rent, and the rock above Adam's skull opened, and

the blood and water which flowed from Christ's side ran down

through the fissure upon the skull, thus washing away the sins of

men.")





Nor was this the only misconception which forced its way from our

sacred writings into medieval map-making:  two others were almost

as marked.  First of these was the vague terror inspired by Gog

and Magog.  Few passages in the Old Testament are more sublime

than the denunciation of these great enemies by Ezekiel; and the

well-known statement in the Apocalypse fastened the Hebrew

feeling regarding them with a new meaning into the mind of the

early Church:  hence it was that the medieval map-makers took

great pains to delineate these monsters and their habitations on

the maps.  For centuries no map was considered orthodox which did

not show them.



The second conception was derived from the mention in our sacred

books of the "four winds."  Hence came a vivid belief in their

real existence, and their delineation on the maps, generally as

colossal heads with distended cheeks, blowing vigorously toward

Jerusalem.



After these conceptions had mainly disappeared we find here and

there evidences of the difficulty men found in giving up the

scriptural idea of direct personal interference by agents of

Heaven in the ordinary phenomena of Nature:  thus, in a noted map

of the sixteenth century representing the earth as a sphere,

there is at each pole a crank, with an angel laboriously turning

the earth by means of it; and, in another map, the hand of the

Almighty, thrust forth from the clouds, holds the earth suspended

by a rope and spins it with his thumb and fingers.  Even as late

as the middle of the seventeenth century Heylin, the most

authoritative English geographer of the time, shows a like

tendency to mix science and theology.  He warps each to help the

other, as follows:  "Water, making but one globe with the earth,

is yet higher than it.  This appears, first, because it is a body

not so heavy; secondly, it is observed by sailors that their

ships move faster to the shore than from it, whereof no reason

can be given but the height of the water above the land;

thirdly, to such as stand on the shore the sea seems to swell

into the form of a round hill till it puts a bound upon our

sight. Now that the sea, hovering thus over and above the earth,

doth not overwhelm it, can be ascribed only to his Providence who

`hath made the waters to stand on an heap that they turn not

again to cover the earth.'"[32]



[32] For Gog and Magog, see Ezekiel xxxviii and xxxix, and Rev.

xx, 8; and for the general subject, Toy, Judaism and

Christianity, Boston, 1891, pp. 373, 374.  For maps showing these

two great terrors, and for geographical discussion regarding

them, see Lelewel, Geog. du Moyen Age, Bruxelles, 1850, Atlas;

also Ruge, Gesch. des Zeitalters der Entdeckungen, Berlin, 1881,

pp. 78, 79; also Peschel's Abhandlungen, pp.28-35, and Gesch. der

Erdkunde, p. 210.  For representations on maps of the "Four

Winds," see Charton, Voyageurs, tome ii, p. 11; also Ruge, as

above, pp. 324, 325; also for a curious mixture of the scriptural

winds issuing from the bags of Aeolus, see a map of the twelfth

century in Leon Gautier, La Chevalerie, p. 153; and for maps

showing additional winds, see various editions of Ptolemy.  For a

map with angels turning the earth by means of cranks at the

poles, see Grynaeus, Novus Orbis, Basileae, 1537.  For the globe

kept spinning by the Almighty, see J. Hondius's map, 1589; and

for Heylin, his first folio, 1652, p. 27.







III.  THE INHABITANTS OF THE EARTH.





Even while the doctrine of the sphericity of the earth was

undecided, another question had been suggested which theologians

finally came to consider of far greater importance.  The doctrine

of the sphericity of the earth naturally led to thought regarding

its inhabitants, and another ancient germ was warmed into

life--the idea of antipodes:  of human beings on the earth's

opposite sides.



In the Greek and Roman world this idea had found supporters and

opponents, Cicero and Pliny being among the former, and Epicurus,

Lucretius, and Plutarch among the latter.  Thus the problem came

into the early Church unsolved.



Among the first churchmen to take it up was, in the East, St.

Gregory Nazianzen, who showed that to sail beyond Gibraltar was

impossible; and, in the West, Lactantius, who asked:  "Is there

any one so senseless as to believe that there are men whose

footsteps are higher than their heads?.  .  .  that the crops and

trees grow downward?.  .  .  that the rains and snow and hail

fall upward toward the earth?.  .  .  I am at a loss what to say

of those who, when they have once erred, steadily persevere in

their folly and defend one vain thing by another."



In all this contention by Gregory and Lactantius there was

nothing to be especially regretted, for, whatever their motive,

they simply supported their inherited belief on grounds of

natural law and probability.



Unfortunately, the discussion was not long allowed to rest on

these scientific and philosophical grounds; other Christian

thinkers followed, who in their ardour adduced texts of

Scripture, and soon the question had become theological;

hostility to the belief in antipodes became dogmatic.  The

universal Church was arrayed against it, and in front of the vast

phalanx stood, to a man, the fathers.



To all of them this idea seemed dangerous; to most of them it

seemed damnable.  St. Basil and St. Ambrose were tolerant

enough to allow that a man might be saved who thought the earth

inhabited on its opposite sides; but the great majority of the

fathers doubted the possibility of salvation to such

misbelievers.  The great champion of the orthodox view was St.

Augustine.  Though he seemed inclined to yield a little in regard

to the sphericity of the earth, he fought the idea that men exist

on the other side of it, saying that "Scripture speaks of no such

descendants of Adam,"  he insists that men could not be allowed

by the Almighty to live there, since if they did they could not

see Christ at His second coming descending through the air.  But

his most cogent appeal, one which we find echoed from theologian

to theologian during a thousand years afterward, is to the

nineteenth Psalm, and to its confirmation in the Epistle to the

Romans; to the words, "Their line is gone out through all the

earth, and their words to the end of the world."  He dwells with

great force on the fact that St. Paul based one of his most

powerful arguments upon this declaration regarding the preachers

of the gospel, and that he declared even more explicitly that

"Verily, their sound went into all the earth, and their words

unto the ends of the world."  Thenceforth we find it constantly

declared that, as those preachers did not go to the antipodes, no

antipodes can exist; and hence that the supporters of this

geographical doctrine "give the lie direct to King David and to

St. Paul, and therefore to the Holy Ghost."  Thus the great

Bishop of Hippo taught the whole world for over a thousand years

that, as there was no preaching of the gospel on the opposite

side of the earth, there could be no human beings there.



The great authority of Augustine, and the cogency of his

scriptural argument, held the Church firmly against the doctrine

of the antipodes; all schools of interpretation were now

agreed--the followers of the allegorical tendencies of

Alexandria, the strictly literal exegetes of Syria, the more

eclectic theologians of the West.  For over a thousand years it

was held in the Church, "always, everywhere, and by all," that

there could not be human beings on the opposite sides of the

earth, even if the earth had opposite sides; and, when attacked

by gainsayers, the great mass of true believers, from the fourth

century to the fifteenth, simply used that opiate which had so

soothing an effect on John Henry Newman in the nineteenth

century--securus judicat orbis terrarum.



Yet gainsayers still appeared.  That the doctrine of the

antipodes continued to have life, is shown by the fact that in

the sixth century Procopius of Gaza attacks it with a tremendous

argument.  He declares that, if there be men on the other side of

the earth, Christ must have gone there and suffered a second time

to save them; and, therefore, that there must have been there, as

necessary preliminaries to his coming, a duplicate Eden, Adam,

serpent, and deluge.



Cosmas Indicopleustes also attacked the doctrine with especial

bitterness, citing a passage from St. Luke to prove that

antipodes are theologically impossible.



At the end of the sixth century came a man from whom much might

be expected--St. Isidore of Seville.  He had pondered over

ancient thought in science, and, as we have seen, had dared

proclaim his belief in the sphericity of the earth; but with that

he stopped.  As to the antipodes, the authority of the Psalmist,

St. Paul, and St. Augustine silences him; he shuns the whole

question as unlawful, subjects reason to faith, and declares that

men can not and ought not to exist on opposite sides of the

earth.[33]



[33]For the opinions of Basil, Ambrose, and others, see Lecky,

History of Rationalism in Europe, New York, 1872, vol. i, p. 279.

Also Letronne, in Revue des Deux Mondes, March, 1834.  For

Lactantius, see citations already given.  For St. Augustine's

opinion, see the De Civitate Dei, xvi, 9, where this great father

of the church shows that the antipodes "nulla ratione credendum

est."  For the unanimity of the fathers against the antipodes,

see Zockler, vol. 1, p. 127.  For a very naive summary, see

Joseph Acosta, Natural and Moral History of the Indies, Grimston's

translation, republished by the Hakluyt Soc., chaps. vii and

viii; also citations in Buckle's Posthumous Works, vol. ii, p.

645.  For Procopius of Gaza, see Kretschmer, p. 55.  See also, on

the general subject, Peschel, Geschichte der Erdkunde, pp. 96-97.

For Isidore, see citations already given.  To understand the

embarrassment caused by these utterances of the fathers to

scientific men of a later period, see letter of Agricola to

Joachim Vadianus in 1514.  Agricola asks Vadianus to give his

views regarding the antipodes, saying that he himself does not

know what to do, between the fathers on the one side and the

learned men of modern times on the other.  On the other hand, for

the embarrassment caused to the Church by this mistaken zeal of

the fathers, see Kepler's references and Fromund's replies; also

De Morgan, Paradoxes, p. 58.  Kepler appears to have taken great

delight in throwing the views of Lactantius into the teeth of his

adversaries.





Under such pressure this scientific truth seems to have

disappeared for nearly two hundred years; but by the eighth

century the sphericity of the earth had come to be generally

accepted among the leaders of thought, and now the doctrine of

the antipodes was again asserted by a bishop, Virgil of Salzburg.



There then stood in Germany, in those first years of the eighth

century, one of the greatest and noblest of men--St. Boniface.

His learning was of the best then known.  In labours he was a

worthy successor of the apostles; his genius for Christian work

made him unwillingly primate of Germany; his devotion to duty

led him willingly to martyrdom.  There sat, too, at that time, on

the papal throne a great Christian statesman--Pope Zachary.

Boniface immediately declared against the revival of such a

heresy as the doctrine of the antipodes; he stigmatized it as an

assertion that there are men beyond the reach of the appointed

means of salvation; he attacked Virgil, and called on Pope

Zachary for aid.



The Pope, as the infallible teacher of Christendom, made a strong

response.  He cited passages from the book of Job and the Wisdom

of Solomon against the doctrine of the antipodes; he declared it

"perverse, iniquitous, and against Virgil's own soul," and

indicated a purpose of driving him from his bishopric.  Whether

this purpose was carried out or not, the old theological view, by

virtue of the Pope's divinely ordered and protected "inerrancy,"

was re-established, and the doctrine that the earth has

inhabitants on but one of its sides became more than ever

orthodox, and precious in the mind of the Church.[34]



[34] For Virgil of Salzburg, see Neander's History of the

Christian Church, Torrey's translation, vol. iii, p. 63; also

Herzog, Real-Encyklopadie, etc., recent edition by Prof. Hauck,

s. v. Virgilius; also Kretschmer, pp. 56-58; also Whewell, vol.

i, p. 197; also De Morgan, Budget of Paradoxes, pp. 24-26.  For

very full notes as to pagan and Christian advocates of the

doctrine of the sphericity of the earth and of the antipodes, and

for extract from Zachary's letter, see Migne, Patrologia, vol.

vi, p. 426, and vol. xli, p. 487.  For St. Boniface's part, see

Bonifacii Epistolae, ed. Giles, i, 173.  Berger de Xivrey,

Traditions Teratologiques, pp. 186-188, makes a curious attempt

to show that Pope Zachary denounced the wrong man; that the real

offender was a Roman poet--in the sixth book of the Aeneid and

the first book of the Georgics.





This decision seems to have been regarded as final, and five

centuries later the great encyclopedist of the Middle Ages,

Vincent of Beauvais, though he accepts the sphericity of the

earth, treats the doctrine of the antipodes as disproved, because

contrary to Scripture.  Yet the doctrine still lived.  Just as it

had been previously revived by William of Conches and then laid

to rest, so now it is somewhat timidly brought out in the

thirteenth century by no less a personage than Albert the Great,

the most noted man of science in that time.  But his utterances

are perhaps purposely obscure.  Again it disappears beneath the

theological wave, and a hundred years later Nicolas d'Oresme,

geographer of the King of France, a light of science, is forced

to yield to the clear teaching of the Scripture as cited by St.

Augustine.



Nor was this the worst.  In Italy, at the beginning of the

fourteenth century, the Church thought it necessary to deal with

questions of this sort by rack and fagot.  In 1316 Peter of

Abano, famous as a physician, having promulgated this with other

obnoxious doctrines in science, only escaped the Inquisition by

death; and in 1327 Cecco d'Ascoli, noted as an astronomer, was

for this and other results of thought, which brought him under

suspicion of sorcery, driven from his professorship at Bologna

and burned alive at Florence.  Nor was this all his punishment:

Orcagna, whose terrible frescoes still exist on the walls of the

Campo Santo at Pisa, immortalized Cecco by representing him in

the flames of hell.[35]



[35] For Vincent of Beauvais and the antipode, see his Speculum

Naturale, Book VII, with citations from St. Augustine, De

Civitate Dei, cap. xvi.  For Albert the Great's doctrine

regarding the antipodes, compare Kretschmer, as above, with

Eicken, Geschichte, etc., p. 621. Kretschmer finds that Albert

supports the doctrine, and Eicken finds that he denies it--a fair

proof that Albert was not inclined to state his views with

dangerous clearness.  For D'Oresme, see Santerem, Histoire de la

Cosmographie, vol. i, p. 142.  For Peter of Abano, or Apono, as

he is often called, see Tiraboschi, also Guinguene, vol. ii, p.

293; also Naude, Histoire des Grands Hommes soupconnes de Magie.

For Cecco d'Ascoli, see Montucla, Histoire de Mathematiques, i,

528; also Daunou, Etudes Historiques, vol. vi, p. 320; also

Kretschmer, p. 59.  Concerning Orcagna's representation of Cecco

in the flames of hell, see Renan, Averroes et l'Averroisme,

Paris, 1867, p. 328.





Years rolled on, and there came in the fifteenth century one from

whom the world had a right to expect much.  Pierre d'Ailly, by

force of thought and study, had risen to be Provost of the

College of St. Die in Lorraine; his ability had made that little

village a centre of scientific thought for all Europe, and

finally made him Archbishop of Cambray and a cardinal.  Toward

the end of the fifteenth century was printed what Cardinal

d'Ailly had written long before as a summing up of his best

thought and research--the collection of essays known as the Ymago

Mundi.  It gives us one of the most striking examples in history

of a great man in theological fetters.  As he approaches this

question he states it with such clearness that we expect to hear

him assert the truth; but there stands the argument of St.

Augustine; there, too, stand the biblical texts on which it is

founded--the text from the Psalms and the explicit declaration of

St. Paul to the Romans, "Their sound went into all the earth, and

their words unto the ends of the world."  D'Ailly attempts to

reason, but he is overawed, and gives to the world virtually

nothing.



Still, the doctrine of the antipodes lived and moved:  so much so

that the eminent Spanish theologian Tostatus, even as late as the

age of Columbus, felt called upon to protest against it as

"unsafe."  He had shaped the old missile of St. Augustine into

the following syllogism:  "The apostles were commanded to go into

all the world and to preach the gospel to every creature; they

did not go to any such part of the world as the antipodes; they

did not preach to any creatures there:  ergo, no antipodes

exist."



The warfare of Columbus the world knows well:  how the Bishop of

Ceuta worsted him in Portugal; how sundry wise men of Spain

confronted him with the usual quotations from the Psalms, from

St. Paul, and from St. Augustine; how, even after he was

triumphant, and after his voyage had greatly strengthened the

theory of the earth's sphericity, with which the theory of the

antipodes was so closely connected, the Church by its highest

authority solemnly stumbled and persisted in going astray.  In

1493 Pope Alexander VI, having been appealed to as an umpire

between the claims of Spain and Portugal to the newly discovered

parts of the earth, issued a bull laying down upon the earth's

surface a line of demarcation between the two powers.  This line

was drawn from north to south a hundred leagues west of the

Azores; and the Pope in the plenitude of his knowledge declared

that all lands discovered east of this line should belong to the

Portuguese, and all west of it should belong to the Spaniards.

This was hailed as an exercise of divinely illuminated power by

the Church; but difficulties arose, and in 1506 another attempt

was made by Pope Julius II to draw the line three hundred and

seventy leagues west of the Cape Verde Islands.  This, again, was

supposed to bring divine wisdom to settle the question; but,

shortly, overwhelming difficulties arose; for the Portuguese

claimed Brazil, and, of course, had no difficulty in showing that

they could reach it by sailing to the east of the line, provided

they sailed long enough.  The lines laid down by Popes Alexander

and Julius may still be found upon the maps of the period, but

their bulls have quietly passed into the catalogue of ludicrous

errors.



Yet the theological barriers to this geographical truth yielded

but slowly.  Plain as it had become to scholars, they hesitated

to declare it to the world at large.  Eleven hundred years had

passed since St. Augustine had proved its antagonism to

Scripture, when Gregory Reysch gave forth his famous

encyclopaedia, the Margarita Philosophica.  Edition after edition

was issued, and everywhere appeared in it the orthodox

statements; but they were evidently strained to the breaking

point; for while, in treating of the antipodes, Reysch refers

respectfully to St. Augustine as objecting to the scientific

doctrine, he is careful not to cite Scripture against it, and not

less careful to suggest geographical reasoning in favour of it.



But in 1519 science gains a crushing victory.  Magellan makes his

famous voyage.  He proves the earth to be round, for his

expedition circumnavigates it; he proves the doctrine of the

antipodes, for his shipmates see the peoples of the antipodes.

Yet even this does not end the war.  Many conscientious men

oppose the doctrine for two hundred years longer.  Then the

French astronomers make their measurements of degrees in

equatorial and polar regions, and add to their proofs that of the

lengthened pendulum.  When this was done, when the deductions of

science were seen to be established by the simple test of

measurement, beautifully and perfectly, and when a long line of

trustworthy explorers, including devoted missionaries, had sent

home accounts of the antipodes, then, and then only, this war of

twelve centuries ended.



Such was the main result of this long war; but there were other

results not so fortunate.  The efforts of Eusebius, Basil, and

Lactantius to deaden scientific thought; the efforts of

Augustine to combat it; the efforts of Cosmas to crush it by

dogmatism; the efforts of Boniface and Zachary to crush it by

force, conscientious as they all were, had resulted simply in

impressing upon many leading minds the conviction that science

and religion are enemies.



On the other hand, what was gained by the warriors of science for

religion?  Certainly a far more worthy conception of the world,

and a far more ennobling conception of that power which pervades

and directs it.  Which is more consistent with a great religion,

the cosmography of Cosmas or that of Isaac Newton?  Which

presents a nobler field for religious thought, the diatribes of

Lactantius or the calm statements of Humboldt?[36]



[36] For D'Ailly's acceptance of St. Augustine's argument, see

the Ymago Mundi, cap. vii.  For Tostatus, see Zockler, vol. i,

pp. 467, 468. He based his opposition on Romans x, 18.  For

Columbus, see Winsor, Fiske, and Adams; also Humboldt, Histoire

de la Geographie du Nouveau Continent.  For the bull of Alexander

VI, see Daunou, Etudes Historiques, vol. ii, p. 417; also

Peschel, Zeitalter der Entdeckungen, Book II, chap. iv.  The text

of the bull is given with an English translation in Arber's

reprint of The First Three English Books on America, etc.,

Birmingham, 1885, pp. 201-204; also especially Peschel, Die

Theilung der Erde unter Papst Alexander VI and Julius II,

Leipsic, 1871, pp. 14 et seq.  For remarks on the power under

which the line was drawn by Alexander VI, see Mamiani, Del Papato

nei Tre Ultimi Secoli, p. 170.  For maps showing lines of

division, see Kohl, Die beiden altesten General-Karten von

Amerika, Weimar, 1860, where maps of 1527 and 1529 are

reproduced; also Mercator, Atlas, tenth edition, Amsterdam, 1628,

pp. 70, 71.  For latest discussion on The Demarcation Line of

Alexander VI, see E. G. Bourne in Yale Review, May, 1892. For the

Margarita Philosophica, see the editions of 1503, 1509, 1517,

lib. vii, cap. 48.  For the effect of Magellan's voyages, and the

reluctance to yield to proof, see Henri Martin, Histoire de

France, vol. xiv, p. 395; St. Martin's Histoire de la Geographie,

p. 369; Peschel, Geschichte des Zeitalters der Entdeckungen,

concluding chapters; and for an admirable summary, Draper, Hist.

Int. Devel. of Europe, pp. 451-453; also an interesting passage

in Sir Thomas Brown's Vulgar and Common Errors, Book I, chap. vi;

also a striking passage in Acosta, chap. ii. For general

statement as to supplementary proof by measurement of degrees and

by pendulum, see Somerville, Phys. Geog., chap. i, par. 6, note;

also Humboldt, Cosmos, vol. ii, p. 736, and vol. v, pp. 16, 32;

also Montucla, iv, 138. As to the effect of travel, see Acosta's

history above cited.  The good missionary says, in Grimston's

quaint translation, "Whatsoever Lactantius saith, wee that live

now at Peru, and inhabite that parte of the worlde which is

opposite to Asia and theire Antipodes, finde not ourselves to bee

hanging in the aire, our heades downward and our feete on high."









IV.  THE SIZE OF THE EARTH.





But at an early period another subject in geography had stirred

the minds of thinking men--THE EARTH'S SIZE.  Various ancient

investigators had by different methods reached measurements more

or less near the truth; these methods were continued into the

Middle Ages, supplemented by new thought, and among the more

striking results were those obtained by Roger Bacon and Gerbert,

afterward Pope Sylvester II.  They handed down to after-time the

torch of knowledge, but, as their reward among their

contemporaries, they fell under the charge of sorcery.



Far more consonant with the theological spirit of the Middle Ages

was a solution of the problem from Scripture, and this solution

deserves to be given as an example of a very curious theological

error, chancing to result in the establishment of a great truth.

The second book of Esdras, which among Protestants is placed in

the Apocrypha, was held by many of the foremost men of the

ancient Church as fully inspired:  though Jerome looked with

suspicion on this book, it was regarded as prophetic by Clement

of Alexandria, Tertullian, and Ambrose, and the Church acquiesced

in that view.  In the Eastern Church it held an especially high

place, and in the Western Church, before the Reformation, was

generally considered by the most eminent authorities to be part

of the sacred canon.  In the sixth chapter of this book there is

a summary of the works of creation, and in it occur the following

verses:



"Upon the third day thou didst command that the waters should be

gathered in the seventh part of the earth; six parts hast thou

dried up and kept them to the intent that of these some, being

planted of God and tilled, might serve thee."



"Upon the fifth day thou saidst unto the seventh part where the

waters were gathered, that it should bring forth living

creatures, fowls and fishes, and so it came to pass."



These statements were reiterated in other verses, and were

naturally considered as of controlling authority.



Among the scholars who pondered on this as on all things likely

to increase knowledge was Cardinal Pierre d'Ailly.  As we have

seen, this great man, while he denied the existence of the

antipodes, as St. Augustine had done, believed firmly in the

sphericity of the earth, and, interpreting these statements of

the book of Esdras in connection with this belief, he held that,

as only one seventh of the earth's surface was covered by water,

the ocean between the west coast of Europe and the east coast of

Asia could not be very wide.  Knowing, as he thought, the extent

of the land upon the globe, he felt that in view of this divinely

authorized statement the globe must be much smaller, and the land

of "Zipango," reached by Marco Polo, on the extreme east coast of

Asia, much nearer than had been generally believed.



On this point he laid stress in his great work, the Ymago Mundi,

and an edition of it having been published in the days when

Columbus was thinking most closely upon the problem of a westward

voyage, it naturally exercised much influence upon his

reasonings.  Among the treasures of the library at Seville, there

is nothing more interesting than a copy of this work annotated by

Columbus himself:  from this very copy it was that Columbus

obtained confirmation of his belief that the passage across the

ocean to Marco Polo's land of Zipango in Asia was short.  But for

this error, based upon a text supposed to be inspired, it is

unlikely that Columbus could have secured the necessary support

for his voyage.  It is a curious fact that this single

theological error thus promoted a series of voyages which

completely destroyed not only this but every other conception of

geography based upon the sacred writings.[37]



[37] For this error, so fruitful in discovery, see D'Ailly, Ymago

Mundi; the passage referred to is fol. 12 verso.  For the passage

from Esdras, see chap. vi, verses 42, 47, 50, and 52; see also

Zockler, Geschichte der Beziehungen zwischen Theologie und

Naturweissenschaft, vol. i, p. 461.  For one of the best recent

statements, see Ruge, Gesch. des Zeitalters der Entdeckungen,

Berlin, 1882, pp. 221 et seq.  For a letter of Columbus

acknowledging his indebtedness to this mistake in Esdras, see

Navarrete, Viajes y Descubrimientos, Madrid, 1825, tome i, pp.

242, 264; also Humboldt, Hist. de la Geographie du Nouveau

Continent, vol. i, pp. 68, 69.









V.  THE CHARACTER OF THE EARTH'S SURFACE.



It would be hardly just to dismiss the struggle for geographical

truth without referring to one passage more in the history of the

Protestant Church, for it shows clearly the difficulties in the

way of the simplest statement of geographical truth which

conflicted with the words of the sacred books.



In the year 1553 Michael Servetus was on trial for his life at

Geneva on the charge of Arianism.  Servetus had rendered many

services to scientific truth, and one of these was an edition of

Ptolemy's Geography, in which Judea was spoken of, not as "a

land flowing with milk and honey," but, in strict accordance with

the truth, as, in the main, meagre, barren, and inhospitable.  In

his trial this simple statement of geographical fact was used

against him by his arch-enemy John Calvin with fearful power.  In

vain did Servetus plead that he had simply drawn the words from a

previous edition of Ptolemy; in vain did he declare that this

statement was a simple geographical truth of which there were

ample proofs:  it was answered that such language "necessarily

inculpated Moses, and grievously outraged the Holy Ghost."[38]



[38] For Servetus's geographical offense, see Rilliet, Relation

du Proces criminel contre Michel Servet d'apres les Documents

originaux, Geneva, 1844, pp. 42,43; also Willis, Servetus and

Calvin, London, 1877, p. 325.  The passage condemned is in the

Ptolemy of 1535, fol. 41.  It was discreetly retrenched in a

reprint of the same edition.





In summing up the action of the Church upon geography, we must

say, then, that the dogmas developed in strict adherence to

Scripture and the conceptions held in the Church during many

centuries "always, every where, and by all," were, on the whole,

steadily hostile to truth; but it is only just to make a

distinction here between the religious and the theological

spirit.  To the religious spirit are largely due several of the

noblest among the great voyages of discovery.  A deep longing to

extend the realms of Christianity influenced the minds of Prince

John of Portugal, in his great series of efforts along the

African coast; of Vasco da Gama, in his circumnavigation of the

Cape of Good Hope; of Magellan, in his voyage around the world;

and doubtless found a place among the more worldly motives of

Columbus.[39]



[39] As to the earlier mixture in the motives of Columbus, it may

be well to compare with the earlier biographies the recent ones

by Dr. Winsor and President Adams.





Thus, in this field, from the supremacy accorded to theology, we

find resulting that tendency to dogmatism which has shown itself

in all ages the deadly foe not only of scientific inquiry but of

the higher religious spirit itself, while from the love of truth

for truth's sake, which has been the inspiration of all fruitful

work in science, nothing but advantage has ever resulted to

religion.