The Sleepwalkers (102 page)

From
the
thirteenth
century
onward,
humanists,
sceptics
and
reformers
had
started
making
holes
in
the
walls
of
this
stable
and
static
universe.
They
chipped
off
bits
of
it
here
and
there,
letting
in
draughts
and
loosening
the
structure.
But
it
still
held.
Donne's
"little
Mathematitian"
did
not
ram
his
head
against
doors,
he
made
no
frontal
attack,
he
was
not
even
conscious
of
attacking
at
all.
He
was
a
conservative
who
felt
quite
at
home
in
the
medieval
edifice,
and
yet
he
undermined
its
foundations
more
effectively
than
the
thundering
Luther.
He
let
in
the
destructive
notions
of
infinity
and
eternal
change,
which
destroyed
the
familiar
world
like
a
dissolvent
acid.

He
did
not
state
that
the
universe
is
infinite
in
space.
He
preferred,
with
his
usual
caution,
"to
leave
the
question
to
the
philosophers".
⁴⁷
But
unwittingly
he
altered
an
unconscious
habit
of
thought
by
making
the
earth
rotate
instead
of
the
sky.
So
long
as
the
rotation
was
attributed
to
the
sky,
the
mind
automatically
assumed
it
to
be
a
solid
and
finite
sphere
–
how
else
could
it
go
round
as
a
unit
every
twenty-four
hours?
But
once
the
apparent
daily
round
of
the
firmament
was
explained
by
the
earth's
rotation,
the
stars
could
recede
to
any
distance;
putting
them
on
a
solid
sphere
became
now
an
arbitrary,
unconvincing
act.
The
sky
no
longer
had
a
limit,
infinity
opened
its
gaping
jaws,
and
Pascal's
"libertin",
seized
by
cosmic
agoraphobia,
was
to
cry
out
a
century
later:
"
Le
silence
éternel
de
ces
éspaces
infinis
m'effraie!
"

Infinite
space
is
not
a
part
of
the
Copernican
system.
But
it
is
implied
in
it;
it
irresistibly
tended
to
push
thought
in
that
direction.
This
distinction
between
the
explicit,
and
the
unconsciously
implied
consequences
becomes
even
more
apparent
in
Copernicus'
impact
on
the
metaphysics
of
the
universe.
Aristotelian
physics
was,
as
we
have
seen,
already
discredited
in
parts,
and
Copernicus
was
one
of
its
last
orthodox
defenders.
But
in
one
fundamental
respect
it
still
ruled
the
mind
of
man
like
a
self-evident
proposition
or
an
act
of
faith:
one
may
call
this
the
grand
topography
of
the
universe.
It
was
this
fundamental
pattern
which
Copernicus,
the
defender
of
Aristotle,
unwittingly
destroyed.

The
Aristotelian
universe
was
centralized.
It
had
one
centre
of
gravity,
one
hard
core,
to
which
all
movement
referred.
Everything
that
had
weight
fell
towards
the
centre,
everything
buoyant,
like
fire
and
air,
tried
to
get
away
from
it;
while
the
stars,
neither
heavy
nor
buoyant
and
of
an
altogether
different
nature,
moved
in
circles
around
it.
The
details
of
the
scheme
might
be
right
or
wrong,
but
it
was
a
simple,
plausible,
reassuringly
orderly
scheme.

The
Copernican
universe
is
not
only
expanded
towards
the
infinite,
but
at
the
same
time
decentralized
,
perplexing,
anarchic.
It
has
no
natural
centre
of
orientation
to
which
everything
else
can
be
referred.
The
directions
"up
and
down"
are
no
longer
absolute,
nor
are
weight
and
buoyancy.
The
"weight"
of
a
stone
had
meant,
before,
its
tendency
to
fall
towards
the
centre
of
the
earth:
that
was
the
meaning
of
"gravity".
Now
the
sun
and
the
moon
become
centres
of
gravity
of
their
own.
There
are
no
longer
any
absolute
directions
in
space.
The
universe
has
lost
its
core.
It
no
longer
has
a
heart,
but
a
thousand
hearts.

The
reassuring
feeling
of
stability,
of
rest
and
order
are
gone;
the
earth
itself
spins
and
wobbles
and
revolves
in
eight
or
nine
simultaneous
different
motions.
Moreover,
if
the
earth
is
a
planet,
the
distinction
between
the
sub-lunary
region
of
change
and
the
ethereal
heavens
disappears.
If
the
earth
is
made
up
of
four
elements,
the
planets
and
stars
may
be
of
the
same
earthy,
watery,
fiery
and
airy
nature.
They
may
even
be
inhabited
by
other
kinds
of
men,
as
Cusa
and
Bruno
asserted.
Would
in
this
case
God
have
to
become
incarnate
on
every
star?
And
could
God
have
created
this
whole
colossal
multitude
of
worlds
for
the
sake
of
the
inhabitants
of
one
single
star
among
millions?