INTRODUCTORY

Previous

The magnetic lore of classic antiquity was scanty indeed, being limited to the attraction which the lodestone manifests for iron. Lucretius (99-55 B. C.), however, in his poetical dissertation on the magnet, contained in De Rerum Natura, Book VI.[1] recognizes magnetic repulsion, magnetic induction, and to some extent the magnetic field with its lines of force, for in verse 1040 he writes:

Oft from the magnet, too, the steel recedes,

Repelled by turns and re-attracted close.

And in verse 1085:

Its viewless, potent virtues men surprise;

Its strange effects, they view with wond’ring eyes

When without aid of hinges, links or springs

A pendant chain we hold of steely rings

Dropt from the stone—the stone the binding source—

Ring cleaves to ring and owns magnetic force:

Those held above, the ones below maintain,

Circle ’neath circle downward draws in vain

Whilst free in air disports the oscillating chain.

The poet Claudian (365-408 A. D.) wrote a short idyll on the attractive virtue of the lodestone and its symbolism; St. Augustine (354-430), in his work De Civitate Dei, records the fact that a lodestone, held under a silver plate, draws after it a scrap of iron lying on the plate. Abbot Neckam, the Augustinian (1157-1217), distinguishes between the properties of the two ends of the lodestone, and gives in his De Utensilibus, what is perhaps the earliest reference to the mariner’s compass that we have. Albertus Magnus, the Dominican (1193-1280), in his treatise, De Mineralibus, enumerates different kinds of natural magnets and states some of the properties commonly attributed to them; the minstrel, Guyot de Provins, in a famous satirical poem, written about 1208, refers to the directive quality of the lodestone and its use in navigation, as do also Cardinal de Vitry in his Historia Orientalis (1215-1220); Brunetto Latini, poet, orator and philosopher, in his TrÉsor des Sciences, a veritable library, written in Paris in 1260; Raymond Lully, the Enlightened Doctor, in his treatise, De Contemplatione, begun in 1272, and Guido Guinicelli, the poet-priest of Bologna, who died in 1276.

The authors of these learned works were too busy with the pen to find time to devote to the close and prolonged study of natural phenomena necessary for fruitful discovery, and so had to content themselves with recording and discussing in their tomes the scientific knowledge of their age without making any notable additions to it.

But this was not the case with such contemporaries of theirs as Roger Bacon, the Franciscan, and his Gallic friend, Pierre de Maricourt, commonly called Petrus Peregrinus, the subject of the present notice, a man of academic culture and of a practical rather than speculative turn of mind. Of the early years of Peregrinus nothing is known save that he studied probably at the University of Paris, and that he graduated with the highest scholastic honors. He owes his surname to the village of Maricourt, in Picardy, and the appellation Peregrinus, or Pilgrim, to his having visited the Holy Land as a member of one of the crusading expeditions of the time.

In 1269 we find him in the engineering corps of the French army then besieging Lucera, in Southern Italy, which had revolted from the authority of its French master, Charles of Anjou. To Peregrinus was assigned the work of fortifying the camp and laying mines as well as of constructing engines for projecting stones and fire-balls into the beleaguered city.

It was in the midst of such warlike preoccupations that the idea seems to have occurred to him of devising a piece of mechanism to keep the astronomical sphere of Archimedes in uniform rotation for a definite time. In the course of his work over the new motor, Peregrinus was gradually led to consider the more fascinating problem of perpetual motion itself with the result that he showed, at least diagrammatically, and to his own evident satisfaction, how a wheel might be driven round forever by the power of magnetic attraction.

Elated over his imaginary success, Peregrinus hastened to inform a friend of his at home; and that his friend might the more readily comprehend the mechanism of the motor and the functions of its parts, he proceeds to set forth in a methodical manner all the properties of the lodestone, most of which he himself had discovered. It is a fortunate circumstance that this Picard friend of his was not a man learned in the sciences, otherwise we would probably never have had the remarkable exposition which Peregrinus gives of the phenomena and laws of magnetism. This letter of 3,500 words is the first great landmark in the domain of magnetic philosophy, the next being Gilbert’s De Magnete, in 1600.

The letter was addressed from the trenches at Lucera, Southern Italy, in August, 1269, to Sigerus de Foucaucourt, his “amicorum intimus,” the dearest of friends. A more enlightened friend, however, than the knight of Foucaucourt was Roger Bacon, who held Peregrinus in the very highest esteem, as the following glowing testimony shows: “There are but two perfect mathematicians,” wrote the English monk, “John of London and Petrus de Maharne-Curia, a Picard.” Further on in his Opus Tertium, Bacon thus appraises the merits of the Picard: “I know of only one person who deserves praise for his work in experimental philosophy, for he does not care for the discourses of men and their wordy warfare, but quietly and diligently pursues the works of wisdom. Therefore, what others grope after blindly, as bats in the evening twilight, this man contemplates in all their brilliancy because he is a master of experiment. Hence, he knows all natural science whether pertaining to medicine and alchemy, or to matters celestial and terrestrial. He has worked diligently in the smelting of ores as also in the working of minerals; he is thoroughly acquainted with all sorts of arms and implements used in military service and in hunting, besides which he is skilled in agriculture and in the measurement of lands. It is impossible to write a useful or correct treatise in experimental philosophy without mentioning this man’s name. Moreover, he pursues knowledge for its own sake; for if he wished to obtain royal favor, he could easily find sovereigns who would honor and enrich him.”

This last statement is worthy of the best utterances of the twentieth century. Say what they will, the most ardent pleaders of our day for original work and laboratory methods cannot surpass the Franciscan monk of the thirteenth century in his denunciation of mere book learning or in his advocacy of experiment and research, while in Peregrinus, the mediÆvalist, they have Bacon’s impersonation of what a student of science ought to be. Peregrinus was a hard worker, nor a mere theorizer, preferring, Procrustean-like, to make theory fit the facts rather than facts the theory; he was a brilliant discoverer who knew at the same time how to use his discoveries for the benefit of mankind; he was a pioneer of science and a leader in the progress of the world.

An analysis of the “Epistola” shows that

(a) Peregrinus was the first to assign a definite position to the poles of a lodestone, and to give directions for determining which is north and which south;

(b) He proved that unlike poles attract each other, and that similar ones repel;

(c) He established by experiment that every fragment of a lodestone, however small, is a complete magnet, thus anticipating one of our fundamental laboratory illustrations of the molecular theory;

(d) He recognized that a pole of a magnet may neutralize a weaker one of the same name, and even reverse its polarity;

(e) He was the first to pivot a magnetized needle and surround it with a graduated circle, Figs. 2 and 3.[2]

(f) He determined the position of an object by its magnetic bearing as done to-day in compass surveying; and

(g) He introduced into his perpetual motion machine, Fig. 4, the idea of a magnetic motor, a clever idea, indeed, for a thirteenth century engineer.

This rapid summary will serve to show that the letter of Peregrinus is one of great interest in physics as well as in navigation and geodesy. For nearly three centuries, it lay unnoticed among the libraries of Europe, but it did not escape Gilbert, who makes frequent mention of it in his De Magnete, 1600; nor the illustrious Jesuit writers, CabÆus, who refers to it in his Philosophia Magnetica, 1629, and Kircher, who quotes from it in his De Arte Magnetica, 1641; it was well known to Jean Taisnier, the Belgian plagiarist, who transferred a great part of it verbatim to the pages of his De Natura Magnetis, 1562, without a word of acknowledgment. By this piece of fraud, Taisnier acquired considerable celebrity, a fact that goes to show the meritorious character of the work which he unscrupulously copied.

This memorable letter is divided into two parts: the first contains ten chapters on the general properties of the lodestone; the second has but three chapters, and shows how the author proposed to use a lodestone for the purpose of producing continuous rotation.

There are many manuscript copies of the letter in European libraries: the Bodleian has six; the Vatican, two; Trinity College, Dublin, one; the BibliothÈque Nationale, Paris, one; Leyden, Geneva and Turin, one each. The Leyden MS. has acquired special notoriety from a passage which appears near the end of it in which reference is made to magnetic declination and its value given: but Prof. W. Wenckebach, of The Hague, has shown[3] that the lines are spurious, having been interpolated in the manuscript in the early part of the sixteenth century.

The Leyden manuscript has also led some writers to believe in a fictitious author of the letter, one Peter Adsiger, or Petrus Adsigerus. As said above, Sigerus was the name of his countryman, to whom Peregrinus addressed his letter, the Epistola ad Sigerum, from the trenches at Lucera, in August, 1269.

Magnetic declination was unknown to Peregrinus, else he would not have written the following words: “Wherever a man may be, he finds the lodestone pointing to the heavens in accordance with the position of the meridian” (Chapter X). Of course, the geographical meridian is the one here meant, as the necessity of a distinct magnetic meridian had not yet occurred to any one.

Nor was this important magnetic element known to Columbus when he sailed from the shores of the Old World in 1492 as appears from the surprise with which he noticed the deviation of the needle from North as well as from the consternation of his pilots. Columbus has the unquestionable merit of being the first to observe and record the change of declination with change of place.

The first printed edition of the Epistola, now very rare, was prepared by Achilles Gasser, a physician of Lindau, a man well versed in mathematics, astronomy, history and philosophy. The work was printed in Augsburg in 1558. A copy of this early print is among the treasures of the Wheeler collection in the library of the American Institute of Electrical Engineers, New York. It was from this text that the translation which follows was made.

Besides the Latin edition of Gasser, 1558, there is also that of Libri in his Histoire des Sciences MathÉmatiques, 1838; of Bertelli, 1868, and Hellmann, 1898. Bertelli’s is a learned and exhaustive work in which the Barnabite monk, sometimes called by mistake, Barnabita, instead of Bertelli, collates and compares the readings of the two Vatican codices with other texts, adding copious references and explanatory notes. It appeared in the Bulletino di Bibliografia e di Storia delle Scienze Matematiche e Fisiche for 1868.

Of translations, we have that which Richard Eden made from Taisnier’s pirated extracts, the first dated edition appearing in 1579. Cavallo’s Treatise on Magnetism, 1800, also contains some of the more remarkable passages. The only complete English translation that we have, appeared in 1902 from the scholarly pen of Prof. Silvanus P. Thompson, of London. It is an Édition de luxe beautifully rubricated, but limited to 250 copies. The translation was based on the texts of Gasser and Hellmann, amended by reference to a manuscript in the author’s possession, dated 1391. We are informed that Mr. Fleury P. Mottelay, of New York, the learned translator of Gilbert’s De Magnete, possesses a manuscript version by Prof. Peirce, of Harvard, of the Paris codex, of which he made a careful study in an endeavor to decipher the illegible parts.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

Clyx.com


Top of Page
Top of Page