On the Eye: Vision by Straight Rays, and the Air Full of Images
How the eye judges objects along the line f–n, and how air and sunlight carry the species of all things
A page of optical theory headed "On the eye," describing the eye as a spherical instrument set between the object and the common sense, which receives the likenesses (species) of all things placed before it. Two small pen diagrams of an eye with radiating lines (labelled a, b, c, n, f) and a schema of binocular vision (a, c, b, d) argue that an object is judged best when it lies along the straight ray f–n and worst when it strays from it, and that a thing too close, like one's own nose-tip, cannot be judged at all. A second section, "On the air," holds that the air is everywhere full of the images of surrounding objects, as each star fills the whole hemisphere and the sun pours out species of both light and heat, the air absorbing them as a lodestone draws iron.
On this page
The eye as a spherical intermediary of sight
The eye is an instrument of spherical surface set midway between the object and the common sense, and this surface takes into itself the likenesses of all the things placed opposite it. Those that lie in the middle are grasped with least error, while those farther off are less well understood.
Objects judged best along the straight ray f–n
The eye cannot perceive objects unless their species reach it by a straight line, and a thing is the less understood the more it departs from that line. If f is the first degree of judgment in the depth of the eye and the surface n the last, then whatever lies in line with f–n (as b–n) is best judged, while n–c and n–a are poorly understood, their rays ending at the obtuse angle n.
Why a thing too close cannot be judged
If the eye has to look at something too near, it cannot judge it well, as happens to one who tries to see the tip of his own nose. As a general rule nature teaches that a thing is never seen perfectly unless the interval between the eye and the thing is at least as great as the size of the face.
Each star fills all the air with its image
Take the stars that appear at night: there is no part of our hemisphere where their radiant lines end that does not gather into itself all the objects that cause those lines. Thus each star is entire in every part and entire in all the air, the objects filling the air with their likenesses.
Air absorbs light and heat as a lodestone draws iron
The air draws to itself, like a magnet, all the likenesses of surrounding things, not only their forms but their natures, as is seen in the hot and luminous sun, whose whole opposing air becomes incorporated with light and heat in its every least part. The lodestar shows the same through the magnet, and among earthly things musk and other odours do likewise.
