Part 8

It was not until the 18th of March 1816, that the first steam-vessel appeared in France, making her entrance into the seaport of Havre. She was the Eliza, which had left Newhaven in England on the previous day.

GALILEO GALILEI.

A. D. 1630.

There are few celebrated men about whom more has been written than Galileo.

The mere enumeration of the works of which he is the subject would fill many pages: nevertheless an important mistake relative to one of the principal events of his life has been so generally accepted and believed, that it may be said to have passed almost into a proverb, and many historians and scientific writers have carelessly adopted and propagated the error.

Between the years 1570 and 1670 Italy had fallen into a state of torpor. The Italians, including even the magnates of the land, had lost all dignity and self-respect, and lay cringing and prostrate at the feet of papal authority. During this period of mental depression Galileo came into the world. Although endowed with a capacious and liberal mind, he was wanting in strength of character, the great failing of his countrymen and of the age in which he lived. Never was he known to exclaim “_E pur si muove!_” Never did he display the heroic firmness that is falsely attributed to him. Greatly in advance of his epoch in science, he still belonged to it in all its shortcomings and defects. He yielded, he hesitated, he drew back before opposition, and was sometimes induced to deny his own doctrines through timidity or in the hope of disarming his enemies, and of escaping from the storm and the whirlwind he had raised around him.

The whole of his correspondence proves the weakness of his character. In Italy, at the beginning of the seventeenth century, the most dangerous accusations that could be brought against any man were deism and infidelity. To doubt was punished with death. Galileo was so imprudent as to address a long letter to Castelli, in which he sought to reconcile the words of scripture with the rotation of the earth as discovered by Copernicus. Copernicus had proved the fact previous to Galileo, but he had used the wise precaution to give his opinion only as an hypothesis, and in his work on the motion of the heavenly bodies, dedicated to Pope Paul III., he avoided wounding any susceptibilities, taking especial care to separate theology from science.

Galileo went even further in a second letter, in which he not only attempted to reconcile his principles of astronomy with scripture, but he endeavoured to make the words of scripture subservient to the axioms he laid down. Some powerful friends tried to bring him to a sense of his indiscretion. Cardinal Bellarmini sent him a written remonstrance, urging him to confine himself to mathematics and astronomy, and to avoid the field of theology.

Monsignor Dini, the friend of Galileo, wrote to him thus, 2nd May 1615: “Theologians allow mathematical discussion, but only when the subject is treated as a simple hypothesis, which is alleged to have been the case with Copernicus. The same liberty will be accorded to you if you keep clear of theology.” Cardinal Barberini, also on terms of friendship with Galileo, sent word to him by Ciampoli on the 28th February of the same year, “that he was not to pass the physical and mathematical limits of the question, because the theologians maintain that it appertains to them alone to elucidate scripture.” They all advised him openly and explicitly to refrain from quoting the bible, and his pertinacity might have excited admiration had it been based on firmness of character, but his timidity and innumerable self-contradictions when directly accused of heresy gave the lie to his apparent determination and adhesion to his principles. When Cardinal Maffeo Barberini was elected pope, under the name of Urbanus, Galileo, who had long been on terms of friendship with him, went to Rome to offer his congratulations, and soon after published his celebrated work: _Dialogo intorno ai due massimi sistemi del mondo_.

Unfortunately, instead of limiting himself to astronomy in this work, he enters again upon questions of theology utterly irrelevant to the main subject; but, strangely enough, in the preface to the _Dialogo_ he has the weakness to disguise his real opinions. “I come,” says he, “to defend the system of Ptolemy. As the friend of the cardinals who have condemned the doctrines of Copernicus, I highly approve their decision; a most excellent decision; a most salutary decision. They who have murmured against it, have been to blame. If I take up my pen it is out of excess of catholic zeal; this it is that moves me to reappear before the public after many years of silence.”

The reader cannot but feel compassion in observing so much feeble-mindedness, unworthy of so great a genius. It may be said in his excuse that the counsels of his best friends forced him to play the miserable part with which he has been reproached, that of servile submission and the abandonment of his convictions. While expressing the liveliest interest in his works, his principal patron, the ambassador of Tuscany, thus advises him in letters of the 16th February and 9th April 1633: “Submit yourself to whatever may be demanded of you, as the only means of appeasing the rancour of him who in the excess of his anger has made this persecution a personal affair. Never mind your convictions, do not defend them, but conform to all that your enemies may assert on the question of the earth’s movement.”

Galileo was ordered to Rome to explain himself before the tribunal of the Inquisition. After remaining a month in the palace of the ambassador of Tuscany, he was removed to the palace of the Inquisition, but so far from being imprisoned there, he himself informs one of his friends that he has the use of three spacious apartments, and the services of his own servant, and that he can roam at pleasure through the whole building. On the 12th April 1633 Galileo underwent his first examination. He declares that in his dialogue upon the systems of the world, he neither maintains nor defends the opinion of the mobility of the earth and the immobility of the sun; that he even demonstrates the contrary opinion, shewing that the arguments of Copernicus are without weight, and are inconclusive. On his second examination, on the 30th April, he says plainly: “I do not actually entertain the opinion of the movement of the earth and the immobility of the sun; I will add to my _Dialogo_ two or three colloquies, and I promise to take up one by one the arguments in favour of the assertions which you condemn, and to refute them unanswerably.”

Certainly the humiliation this great man underwent was profound. He had carried submission so far as to renounce the strongest convictions of the man of science. His persecutors were culpable and cruel, but our business here is only to examine carefully and truthfully the two following propositions: Was Galileo thrown into the dungeons of the Inquisition? and Was he subjected to torture?

A valuable opportunity has been lost of clearing up the doubts which surround the trial of Galileo. In 1809 all the original documents relating to this suit were transmitted from Rome to Paris with the papal archives, and it was intended to publish the whole in the form of a volume consisting of seven or eight hundred pages. Delambre, the historian of modern astronomy, while sending several extracts from these deeds to Venturi, one of Galileo’s biographers, attributes the oblivion into which this intention was suffered to fall, entirely to political motives. Delambre informs us, moreover, that in 1820 the original deeds were no longer forthcoming. Monsignor Morrini, who had been commissioned to claim from the French government whatever appertained to the Holy See, endeavoured in vain to obtain the papers relating to the trial of Galileo. At length the manuscript was restored to Gregory XVI., it was not known how, or by whom, and it was deposited by Pius IX., in 1848, in the archives of the Vatican; since which date no full details have been published. It is now, however, positively affirmed that Galileo was never thrown into the dungeons of the Inquisition.

After the second examination to which Galileo was subjected, Cardinal Barberini suffered him to return to his apartments at the embassy of the grand Duke of Tuscany, where the ambassador Nicolini, his family and household, continued to treat him with much affectionate consideration.

He was again summoned before the Inquisition on the 10th May and on the 21st June, when he repeated that he held as true and indisputable the opinion of Ptolemy, that is to say the immobility of the earth and the mobility of the sun. This was the close of the trial. The next day, Wednesday, 22nd June, 1633, he was brought before the cardinals and prelates of the congregation to hear his sentence and to make his recantation.

It was in the church of the convent of St. Minerva that Galileo Galilei, aged seventy years, pronounced on his knees a form of recantation. It has been said that Galileo, on rising from his knees, murmured these words: “_E pure si muove!_” No doubt this protestation of truth against falsehood may at this cruel crisis have rushed from his heart to his lips, but it must be remembered that if these words had actually been heard, his relapse would have infallibly led him to the stake.

Monsieur Biot, in a learned and conscientious biographical notice, has clearly pointed out, that Galileo was not subjected to torture during any part of his trial anterior to the 22nd June 1633. M. Libri, in his _Histoire des sciences mathématiques en Italie_, is of opinion that as Galileo was subjected to _a rigorous examination_, according to the wording of the sentence, it might be logically inferred that torture had really been inflicted on him.

But Monsignor Marini has fully proved that the _rigorous examination_ was an enquiry which did not necessarily include torture. M. Philarète Chasles, in his _Essay on Galileo_ (the best compendium that we have on the life, labours, and persecutions of the learned Italian astronomer), shews that the popular story, or rather fable, of the persecution of Galileo, accepted by the vulgar, is based upon a false document, a letter forged by the Duc Caetani and his librarian, and addressed to Reineri, and which Tiraboschi, a dupe to the fraud, inserted in his _Histoire littéraire d’Italie_. This letter was taken as an authority, and M. Libri, in his remarkable work “_Histoire des sciences mathématiques en Italie_,” cites it in support of his opinion. But this apocryphal letter is rejected by Nelli, Reumont, and all accurate critics. If Galileo was really subjected to torture, how can we account for the circumstance that during his life-time no rumour of it was current?--that his pupils, his partisans, his numerous defenders, knew nothing of it in France, in Holland, or in Germany?

A few days after his recantation, Galileo Galilei returned to Sienna to his friend the Archbishop Piccolomini, in whose palace the Pope desired him to remain. The following letter was written soon after his arrival at Sienna: “At the entreaty of the ambassador Nicolini, the Pope has granted me permission to reside in the palace and the garden of the Medici on the Trinità, and instead of a prison the archiepiscopal palace has been assigned to me as a home, in which I have already spent fifteen days, congratulating myself on the ineffable kindness of the Archbishop.”

On the 1st December the Pope issued a decree by which Galileo received permission to occupy his villa d’Arcetri, which had been in his possession since 1631. This villa, where Milton visited him, and where Galileo died, on the 8th January 1642, at nearly seventy-eight years of age, is situated on a declivity of one of the hills that overlook Florence. An inscription still perpetuates the memory of its illustrious proprietor. It was here, under arrest, and pending the good will and pleasure of the Pope, that Galileo expiated his imaginary crime. On the 28th July 1640 he wrote to Deodati: “My definitive prison is this little villa, situated a mile from Florence. I am forbidden to receive the visits of my friends, or to invite them to come and converse with me. My life is very tranquil. I often go to the neighbouring convent of _San Matteo_, where two of my daughters are nuns. I love them both dearly, especially the elder, who unites extraordinary intellectual powers to much goodness of heart.”

The growing infirmities of age now began to tell upon Galileo. His weary eyes refused to serve him, and he became completely blind. He was tended in his solitude by his two daughters from the convent. One of them was taken from him by death, but she was replaced by other affectionate relatives, who endeavoured to amuse and console the lonely captive. His letters breathe a poetical melancholy, a quiet irony, an overwhelming humility and an overpowering sense of weariness.

Those who wish to form a just idea of this great and persecuted man, of his true character, his labours, his foibles, and his lack of moral courage, should read the _Beiträge zur italienischen Geschichte_, by Alfred von Reumont, envoy of his Majesty the King of Prussia at Florence. He has classified the correspondence of Galileo and that of his friends, and has completed the labours and researches of Fabroni, Nelli, Venturi, Libri, Marini, Biot, &c. Dr. Max Parchoppe has also very recently sifted and weighed in a remarkable manner, all the evidence relating to the life of Galileo.

We will conclude by mentioning a circumstance very little known and with which the public have only recently become acquainted through an unpublished letter of Galileo dated in the second year of his retreat. It exhibits this illustrious scholar in a new light, as an amateur of good wine and good cheer. “I desire,” he says, “that you should take the advice of the most experienced judges, and procure for me with all diligence and with all imaginable care, a provision of forty bottles, or two cases of liqueurs of various kinds and of the most exquisite quality. You need not consider the expense: I am so moderate in all other sensual indulgences that I may allow myself some scope in favour of Bacchus without fear of giving offence to Venus or to Ceres. You will, I think, easily find wines of Scillo and of Carini (Scylla and Charybdis if you prefer to call them so)--Greek wines from the country of my master, Archimedes the Syracusian; Claret wines, &c. When you send me the cases, be so good as to enclose the account, which I will pay scrupulously and quickly, &c. From my prison of Arcetri, 4th March.” “_Con ogni diligenza e col consiglio et intervento dei piu purgati gusti, voglio restar serviti di farmi provisione di 40 fiaschi, cioè di due casse di liquori varii esquisiti che costi si ritrovino, non curando punto di rispiarme dispesa, perche rispiarmo tanto in tutti gl’altri gusti corporali che posso lasciarmi andare a qualche cosa a richiesta di Bacco, senza offesa delle sue compagne Venere e Cerere. Costi non debbon mancare Scillo e Carini (onde voglio dire Scilla e Caribdi) nè meno la patria del mio maestro Archimede Siracusano, i Grecchi, e Claretti, &c. Havranno, come spero, comodo di farmegli capitare col ritorno delle casse della dispensa, ed io prontamente sodisfaro tutta la spesa, &c._

_Dalla mia carcere d’Arcetri, 4 di Marzo._

_Galileo Galiᵉⁱ._”

It is worthy of remark that he designates his pretty villa at Arcetri as his prison; probably because he was forbidden to extend his walks beyond the convent of San Matteo.

APPENDIX

TO THE NOTICE ON WILLIAM TELL.

The following _Tellenlied_ is the most ancient known, and has been printed in the collection of M. ROCHHOLZ: _Eidgenössische Liederchronik_, p. 206.

In the course of time, this ballad has been often altered in its details; but we give here one of the old forms in which it was written.

To complete the picture of William Tell’s legend, we have added the celebrated ballad on the death of Tell, by the great poet UHLAND who, by this poem, say the Germans:

_Exegit monumentum ære perennius._

1.

Von einer Eidgenossenschaft Und ihrer unerhörten Kraft Ist mir ein Lied gelungen, Drum will ich diesen ew’gen Bund Besingen und den ganzen Grund, Aus welchem er entsprungen.

In einem Land, das wie ein Kern Verschlossen liegt in Bergen fern, Die man als Mauern preiset, Fing dieser Bund zum ersten an, Es ward die Sache frei gethan Im Land, das Uri heisset.

Nun schaut ihr lieben Herren an, Wie dieser Schimpf zuerst begann, Und lasst’s euch nicht verdriessen, Wie einer seinem liebsten Sohn Wohl einen Apfel gar aus Hohn Vom Scheitel musste schiessen.

Der Landvogt sprach zu Wilhelm Tell: Nun lug zu deiner Kunst, Gesell, Und nun vernimm mich eben: Trifft nicht dein allererster Schuss, Fürwahr, so ist es dir nichts nutz Und kostet dich dein Leben!

Er hatte Glück durch Gottes Kraft, Da ist mit rechter Meisterschaft Der Hauptschuss ihm gelungen; Er irrte nicht und fehlte nit Auf hundert und auf dreissig Schritt Das Ziel am Haupt des Jungen.

Als er den Ersten Gott befahl, Begriff er einen zweiten Strahl, In’s Goller ihn zu legen; Da sprach derselbe Landvogt gut, Was treibst du da in deinem Muth, Was hast du dich verwegen?

Der Telle war ein zornig Mann, Er schnauzt den Landvogt übel an: Hätt’ ich mein Kind erschossen, Ich hätte dich, mein Landvogt gut, Wie ich beschloss in meinem Muth, Wohl auch geschwind erschossen!

Und solchem Spann und solchem Stoss Entsprang der erste Eidgenoss! Und also steht geschrieben: Der übermüth’gen Vögte Schaar Ward drauf der Herrschaft blos und bar Und ans dem Land getrieben.

Wie fest wir schwuren einen Bund Das bleibt in allen Zeiten kund Den Jungen wie den Alten, Und dass in Ehre wir bestehn Und die geraden Wege gehn, Das lassen Gott wir walten, etc.

2.

TELL’S TOD.

Grün wird die Alpe werden, Stürzt die Lawin’ einmal; Zu Berge ziehn die Heerden, Fuhr erst der Schnee zu Thal. Euch stellt, ihr Alpensöhne, Mit jedem neuen Jahr Des Eises Bruch vom Föhne Den Kampf der Freiheit dar.

Da braust der wilde Schächen Hervor aus seiner Schlucht, Und Fels und Tanne brechen Von seiner jähen Flucht, Er hat den Steg begraben, Der ob der Stäube hing, Hat weggespült den Knaben, Der auf dem Stege ging.

Und eben schritt ein Andrer Zur Brücke, da sie brach; Nicht stutzt der greise Wandrer, Wirft sich dem Knaben nach, Fasst ihn mit Adlerschnelle, Trägt ihn zum sichern Ort; Das Kind entspringt der Welle, Den Alten reisst sie fort.

Doch als nun ausgestossen Die Flut den todten Leib, Da stehn um ihn, ergossen In Jammer, Mann und Weib; Als kracht in seinem Grunde Des Rothstocks Felsgestell, Erschallt’s aus einem Munde: Der Tell ist todt, der Tell!

Wär’ ich ein Sohn der Berge, Ein Hirt am ew’gen Schnee, Wär’ ich ein kecker Ferge Auf Uris grünem See, Und trät’ in meinem Harme Zum Tell, wo er verschied, Des Todten Haupt im Arme, Spräch’ ich mein Klagelied:

“Da liegst du, eine Leiche, Der Aller Leben war; Dir trieft noch um das bleiche Gesicht das greise Haar. Hier steht, den du gerettet, Ein Kind, wie Milch und Blut, Das Land, das du entkettet, Steht rings in Alpenglut.

“Die Kraft derselben Liebe, Die du dem Knaben trugst, Ward einst in dir zum Triebe, Dass du den Zwingherrn schlugst. Nie schlummernd, nie erschrocken, War retten stets dein Brauch, Wie in den braunen Locken, So in den grauen auch.

“Wärst du noch jung gewesen, Als du den Knaben fingst, Und wärst du dann genesen, Wie du nun untergingst, Wir hätten d’raus geschlossen Auf künft’ger Thaten Ruhm: Doch schön ist nach dem grossen Das schlichte Heldenthum.

“Dir hat dein Ohr geklungen Vom Lob, das man dir bot, Doch ist zu ihm gedrungen Ein schwacher Ruf der Noth. Der ist ein Held der freien, Der, wann der Sieg ihn kränzt, Noch glüht, sich dem zu weihen, Was frommet und nicht glänzt.

“Gesund bist du gekommen Vom Werk des Zorns zurück, Im hülfereichen, frommen, Verliess dich erst dein Glück. Der Himmel hat dein Leben Nicht für ein Volk begehrt; Für dieses Kind gegeben, War ihm dein Opfer werth.

“Wo du den Vogt getroffen, Mit deinem sichern Strahl Dort steht ein Bethaus offen, Dem Strafgericht ein Mal; Doch hier, wo du gestorben, Dem Kind ein Heil zu sein, Hast du dir nur erworben Ein schmucklos Kreuz von Stein.

“Weithin wird lobgesungen, Wie du dein Land befreit, Von grosser Dichter Zungen Vernimmt’s noch späte Zeit; Doch steigt am Schächen nieder Ein Hirt im Abendroth, Dann hallt im Felsthal wieder Das Lied von deinem Tod.”

BIBLIOGRAPHICAL INDEX.

In a book like the present, it is advisable to place every possible authority at the disposition of the reader, in order that he may ascertain for himself the truth of the alleged facts, and verify the accuracy of the author.

With this view, I subjoin a bibliographical Index of some of the works ancient or modern that bear upon each of the subjects which I have examined, so that the original sources may be collected by all desirous of so doing.

THE COLOSSUS OF RHODES.

1. COMTE CAYLUS, _Mémoires de l’Académie des Inscriptions_, Vol. XXIV, p. 360.

2. O. DAPPER, _Description des Isles de l’Archipel._ Amsterd. 1703.

3. CHOISEUL-GOUFFIER, _Voyage pittoresque de la Grèce_. Paris 1782, Vol. I, p. 108.

4. W. J. HAMILTON, _Researches in Asia Minor_. London 1842, Vol. II, p. 65.

5. DROYSEN, _Geschichte des Hellenismus_, Vol. II, p. 574.

6. PLINIUS, _Historia naturalis_, lib. 34.

7. DIODORUS SICULUS, lib. 20.

8. STRABO, lib. 14.

9. J. J. WINCKELMANN, _Geschichte der alten Kunst_, lib. 7, cap. 2.

10. COL. ROTTIERS, _Description des monuments de Rhodes_. Bruxelles 1830, p. 81.

11. GUILL. CAVURSIN, _De obsidione Rhodiorum_, anno 1480.

12. NAPOLÉON III, _Histoire de Jules César_, Vol. I, p. 137.

BELISARIUS

1. SCHELWIG (SAMUEL), _Dissertatio Historica de Belisario_. Witteb. 1665. 4ᵗᵒ.

2. EKERMAN (PETER), _Dissertatio de Belisario, duce Justiniani invictissimo_. Upsal. 1761. 4ᵗᵒ.

3. ZELLER (CH. F.), _Belisarius, römischer Feldherr, eine Biographie_. Tübing. 1809. 8ᵛᵒ.

4. MAHON (PH. H.), _Life of Belisarius_. Lond. 1829. 8ᵛᵒ.

5. ROTH (C. L.), _Ueber Belisar’s Ungnade; nach den Quellen_. Basel 1846. 8ᵛᵒ.

ALEXANDRIAN LIBRARY.

1. _Abdollatiphi Compendium memorabilium Ægypti._ Tubing. 1789.

2. _Hist. Dynast._ _translated_ by POCOCKE.

3. _Histoire de l’École d’Alexandrie_, par M. MATTER. Paris 1840. II Vol. 8ᵛᵒ.

This work supplies all the authorities for and against the fact of the burning of the Alexandrian Library.

POPE JOAN.

1. VERGERIO, _Istoria di Papa Giovanni VIII. che fu femina_. I Vol. _S. l._ 1556. 8ᵛᵒ.

2. SCHERER, _Gründlicher Bericht &c._ Wien 1584. 4ᵗᵒ.

3. H. WITEKIND, _Jesuitas Pontificis Maximi emissarios falso et frustra negare Papam Johannem VIII., fuisse meretricem_. 1588. 4ᵗᵒ.

4. _Erreur populaire de la Papesse Jeanne_, par FLORIMOND DE RAYMOND. Bordeaux 1588, in 8ᵛᵒ. Paris 1599, Cambrai 1603.

5. J. MAYS, _The Pope’s Parliament_. London 1591 and 1594.

6. _Papa mulier_ (auctore N. FABRO). Witebergæ 1609. 8ᵛᵒ.

7. G. WHITAKER, _De Papa romano et Papissa romana_. 1612. 8ᵛᵒ.

8. SERRARIUS, _Tractatus de Johanna Papissa_. Coloniæ Agripp. 1614.

9. _Anatomy of Pope Joan._ London 1626. 12ᵐᵒ.

10. LEO ALLACIUS, _Fabulæ de Johanna Papissa confutatio ex monumentis græcis_. Romæ 1630, 4ᵗᵒ, and 1645, 8ᵛᵒ.

11. J. DE LA SALLE, _Confutatio Joannæ Papissæ_. Lovanii 1633. 8ᵛᵒ.

12. J. DE LA MONTAGNE, _La Papesse Jeanne_. Sedan 1633. 8ᵛᵒ.

It is a translation of the work of A. Cooke, inserted in the 4th Vol. of the _Harleyan Miscellany_.

13. EHINGER, _Dissertatio de Papa Muliere_. 1641. 4ᵗᵒ.