Nor should we hastily pronounce this doctrine to be absurd.  The stars do appear to lie on the surface of a sphere, of which the observer is at the centre; not only is this the aspect which the skies present to the untechnical observer, but it is the aspect in which the skies are presented to the most experienced astronomer of modern days.  No doubt he knows well that the stars are at the most varied distances from him; he knows that certain stars are ten times, or a hundred times, or a thousand times, as far as other stars.  Nevertheless, to his eye the stars appear on the surface of the sphere, it is on that surface that his measurements of the relative places of the stars are made; indeed, it may be said that almost all the accurate observations in the observatory relate to the places of the stars, not as they really are, but as they appear to be projected on that celestial sphere whose conception we owe to the genius of Ptolemy.

This great philosopher shows very ingeniously that the earth must be at the centre of the sphere.  He proves that, unless this were the case, each star would not appear to move with the absolute uniformity which does, as a matter of fact, characterise it.  In all these reasonings we cannot but have the most profound admiration for the genius of Ptolemy, even though he had made an error so enormous in the fundamental point of the stability of the earth.  Another error of a somewhat similar kind seemed to Ptolemy to be demonstrated.  He had shown that the earth was an isolated object in space, and being such was, of course, capable of movement.  It could either be turned round, or it could be moved from one place to another.  We know that Ptolemy deliberately adopted the view that the earth did not turn round; he had then to investigate the other question, as to whether the earth was animated by any movement of translation.  He came to the conclusion that to attribute any motion to the earth would be incompatible with the truths at which he had already arrived.  The earth, argued Ptolemy, lies at the centre of the celestial sphere.  If the earth were to be endowed with movement, it would not lie always at this point, it must, therefore, shift to some other part of the sphere.  The movements of the stars, however, preclude the possibility of this; and, therefore, the earth must be as devoid of any movement of translation as it is devoid of rotation.  Thus it was that Ptolemy convinced himself that the stability of the earth, as it appeared to the ordinary senses, had a rational philosophical foundation.

Not unfrequently it is the lot of the philosophers to contend against the doctrines of the vulgar, but when it happens, as in the case of Ptolemy’s researches, that the doctrines of the vulgar are corroborated by philosophical investigation which bear the stamp of the highest authority, it is not to be wondered at that such doctrines should be deemed well-nigh impregnable.  In this way we may, perhaps, account for the remarkable fact that the theories of Ptolemy held unchallenged sway over the human intellect for the vast period already mentioned.