A SERIES of ORIGINAL WORKS.
7, V
Tl
Tl
Tl
FROM-THE- LIBRARY OF TRINITYCOLLEGE TORONTO
Th
REPUBLICS; or, of the Origin, Progress, and Fall of Freedom in Italy, from A.D. 476 to 1805. By J. C. L. De Sismondi. 1 vol. 3s. Gd.
The HISTORY of the FALL of the
ROMAN EMPIRE; comprising a View of the Invasion and Settlement of the Barbarians. By J. C. L. De Sismondi. 2 vols. . . 7s.
The HISTORY of GREECE. By the
Right Rev. the Lord Bishop of St. David's (Connop Thirlwall, D.D.) & yols. . ,28s.
I AD-
iw of the
S. utlicy,
•R. Befl.
17s. 6d.
msii
arristcr- 3s. Cd.
of the
; with
Popular Forster,
n, l-.lu.t,
Hampden, and Cromwell, and an Historical Scene after a Picture by Cattermole. 5 vols.
17s. 6d. The above fire volumes form Mi: Forster's
LIVES of the most Eminent BRITISH
STATESMEN. By Sir James Mackintosh, Right Hon. T. P. Courtenay, and J. Foruter, Esq. 7 vols ~4s- M-
LIVES of the most Eminent ENGLISH
POETS. By R. Bell, Esq. 2 vols. . 7s.
LONDON : LONGMAN, BROWN, GREEN, AND LONGMANS.
i
- *- -> — ^
OF ITALY, SPAIN, AND PORTUGAL. ) VOJL* 2.
POINTED FOR LONGMAN-, KEES. ORME. BROW1T, GREEN" * LOirGMWsT, PATERNOSTFR AND JOHN" TAYLOR, UPPER GOVER STREET, 1835.
CONTENTS,
Page
GALILEO - - 1
GUICCIARDINI - - 63
VITTORIA COLONNA - - 75
GUARINI - - 82
TASSO - 96
CHIABRERA - - 163
TASSONI - - 169
MARINI - - 174
FILICAJA - - 180
METASTASIO - 185
GOLDON1 - - - 213
ALFIERI - - 247
MONTI - - 303
UGO FOSCOLO 353
VOL. II.
LIVES
OP EMINENT
LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
GALILEO. 1564*— 1642.
THE history of the life and labours of Galileo is preg- nant with a peculiar interest to the general reader, as well as to the philosopher. His brilliant discoveries, the man of science regards as his peculiar property; the means by which they were made, and the developement of his intellectual character, belong to the logician and to the philosopher ; but the triumphs and the reverses of his eventful life must -be claimed for our common nature, as a source of more than ordinary instruction.
The lengthened career which Providence assigned to- Galileo was filled up throughout its rugged outline with events even of dramatic interest. But though it was emblazoned with achievements of transcendent magni- tude, yet his finest discoveries were the derision of his contemporaries, and were even denounced as crimes which merited the vengeance of Heaven. Though he was the idol of his friends, and the favoured companion of princes, yet he afterwards became the victim of per- secution, and spent some of his last hours within the walls of a prison ; and though the Almighty granted
VOL. II. B
2 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
him, as it were, a new sight to descry unknown worlds in the obscurity of space, yet the eyes which were al- lowed to witness such wonders, were themselves doomed to he closed in darkness.
Such were the lights and shadows in which history delineates
" The starry Galileo with his woes." *
But, however powerful be their contrasts, they are not unusual in their proportions. The balance which has been struck between his days of good and evil, is that which regulates the lot of man, whether we study it in the despotic sway of the autocrat, in the peaceful en- quiries of the philosopher, or in the humbler toils of or- dinary life.
Galileo Galilei was born at Pisa, on the 15th of February, 1 564, and was the eldest of a family of three sons and three daughters. Under the name of Bonajuti, his noble ancestors had filled high offices at Florence ; but about the middle of the 14th century they seem to have abandoned this surname for that of Galileo. Vin- cenzo Galilei, our author's father, was himself a phi- losopher of no mean powers; and though his talents seem to have been applied only in the composition of trea- tises on the theory and practice of music, yet he appears to have anticipated even his son in a just estimate of the philosophy of the age, and in a distinct perception of the true method of investigating truth.t
The early years of Galileo were, like those of almost all great experimental philosophers, spent in the con- struction of instruments and pieces of machinery, which were calculated chiefly to amuse himself and his school- fellows. This occupation of his hands, however, did not interfere with his regular studies ; and though, from the straitened circumstances of his father, he was edu- cated under considerable disadvantages, yet he acquired the elements of classical literature, and was initiated into all the learning of the times. Music, drawing, and paint-
* Childe Harold, canto iv. stanza liv. f Life of Galileo, Library of Useful Knowledge, p. 1.
GALILEO. 3
Ing were the occupations of his leisure hours ; and such was his proficiency in these arts, that he was reckoned a skilful performer on several musical instruments, espe- cially the lute ; and his knowledge of pictures was held in great esteem hy some of the hest artists of his day.
Galileo seems to have been desirous of following the profession of a painter : hut his father had Observed decided indications of early genius ; and, though by no means able to afford it, he resolved to send him to the university to pursue the study of medicine. He ac- cordingly enrolled himself as a scholar in arts at the university of Pisa, on the 5th of November, 1581, and pursued his medical studies under the celebrated botanist Andrew Csesalpinus, who filled the chair of medicine from 156? to 1592.
In order to study the principles of music and draw- ing, Galileo found it necessary to acquire some know- ledge of geometry. His father seems to have fore- seen the consequences of following this new pursuit, and though he did not prohibit him from reading Euclid under Ostilio Ricci, one of the professors at Pisa, yet he watched his progress with the utmost jealousy, and had resolved that it should not interfere with his medical studies. The demonstrations, how- ever, of the Greek mathematician had too many charms for the ardent mind of Galileo. His whole attention was engrossed with the new truths which burst upon his under- standing ; and after many fruitless attempts to check his ardour and direct his thoughts to professional objects, his father was obliged to surrender his parental control, and allow the fullest scope to the genius of his son.
From the elementary works of geometry, Galileo passed to the writings of Archimedes ; and while he was studying the hydrostatical treatise * of the Syra- cusan philosopher, he wrote his essay on the hydrostati- cal balance t, in which he describes the construction of the instrument, and the method by which Archi- medes detected the fraud committed by the jeweller
* De Tnsidentibus in Fluido.
t Opere di Galileo. Milano, 1810, vol. ir. p. 243—257. B 2
* LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
in the composition of Hiero's crown. This work gained for its author the esteem of Guido Ubaldi, who had dis- tinguished himself by his mechanical and mathematical acquirements, and who engaged his young friend to inves- tigate the subject of the centre of gravity in solid bodies. The treatise on this subject, which Galileo presented to his patron, was the source of his future success.
Through the cardinal del Monte, the brother-in-law of Ubaldi, the reigning duke of Tuscany, Ferdinand de' Medici, was made acquainted with the merits of our young philosopher ; and, in 1589, he was appointed lecturer on mathematics at Pisa. By the drudgery of private teaching he was obliged to add to the small salary of sixty crowns which was attached to the office.
With this moderate competency, Galileo commenced his philosophical career. At the early age of eighteen, when he had entered the university, he displayed his innate antipathy to the Aristotelian philosophy. This feeling was strengthened by his earliest inquiries ; and upon his establishment at Pisa, he seems to have re- garded the doctrines of Aristotle as the intellectual prey which, in his chace of glory, he was destined to pursue. Nizzoli, who flourished near the beginning of the sixteenth century, and Giordano Bruno, who was burned at Rome in 1600, led the way in this daring pursuit ; but it was reserved for Galileo to track the Thracian boar through its native thickets, and, at the risk of his own life, to strangle it in its den.
With the resolution of submitting every opinion to the test of experiment, Galileo's first inquiries at Pisa were directed to the mechanical doctrines of Aristotle. Their incorrectness and absurdity soon became apparent ; and with a zeal, perhaps, bordering on indiscretion, he denounced them to his pupils with an ardour of manner and of expression proportioned to his own conviction of the truth. The detection of long-established errors is apt to inspire the young philosopher with an exultation which reason condemns. The feeling of triumph is apt to clothe itselt in the language of asperity ; and the
GALILEO. 5
abettor of erroneous opinions is treated as a species of enemy to science. Like the soldier who fleshes his first spear in battle, the philosopher is apt to leave the stain of cruelty upon his early achievements. It is only from age and experience,, indeed, that we can expect the dis- cretion of valour, whether it is called forth in contro- versy or in battle. Galileo seems to have waged this stern warfare against the followers of Aristotle ; and such was the exasperation which was excited by his reiterated and successful attacks, that he was assailed, during the rest of his life, with a degree of rancour which seldom originates in a mere difference of opinion. Forgetting that all knowledge is progressive, and that the errors of one generation call forth the comments, and are replaced by the discoveries, of the next, Galileo did not anticipate that his own speculations and incom- pleted labours might one day provoke unmitigated cen- sure ; and he therefore failed in making allowance for the prejudices and ignorance of his opponents. He who enjoys the proud lot of taking a position in advance of his age, need not wonder that his less gifted contempora- ries are left behind. Men are not necessarily obstinate because they cleave to deeply rooted and venerable errors, nor are they absolutely stupid when they are long in understanding and embracing newly discovered truths.
It was one of the axioms of the Aristotelian me- chanics, that the heavier of two falling bodies would reach the ground sooner than the other, and that their velocities would be proportional to their weights. Galileo attacked the arguments by which this opinion was supported ; and when he found his reasoning in- effectual, he appealed to direct experiment. He main- tained, that all bodies would fall through the same height in the same time, if they were not unequally re- tarded by the resistance of the air : and though he per- formed the same experiment with the most satisfactory results, by letting heavy bodies fall from the leaning tower of Pisa; yet the Aristotelians, who with their own eyes saw the unequal weights strike the ground B 3
0 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
at the same instant, ascribed the effect to some unknown cause, and preferred the decision of their master to that of nature herself.
Galileo could not brook this opposition to his dis- coveries; and the Aristotelians could not tolerate the rebukes of their young instructor. The two parties were, consequently, marshalled in hostile array ; when, for- tunately for both, an event occurred, which placed them beyond the reach of danger. Don Giovanni de* Medici, a natural son of Cosmo, had proposed a method of clearing out the harbour of Leghorn. Galileo, whose opinion was requested, gave such an unfavourable report upon it, that the disappointed inventor directed against him all the force of his malice. It was an easy task to concentrate the malignity of his enemies at Pisa; and so effectually was this accomplished, that Galileo resolved to accept another professorship, to which he had been previously invited.
The chair of mathematics in the university of Padua having been vacant for five years, the republic of Venice had resolved to fill it up ; and, on the recommendation of Guido Ubaldi, Galileo was appointed to it, in 1 592, for a period of six years.
In 1591, Galileo lost his father, who died at an ad- vanced age, and devolved upon his eldest son the support of the family. This event, probably, increased his anxiety to better his situation, and must have added to his other inducements to quit Pisa. In September, 1592, he removed to Padua, where he had a salary of only 180 florins, and where he was obliged to add to his income by the labours of tuition. Notwithstanding this fruitless occupation of his time, he appears to have found leisure for composing several of his works, and com- pleting various inventions, which will be afterwards described. His manuscripts were circulated privately among his friends and pupils ; but some of them strayed beyond this sacred limit, and found their way into the hands of persons who did not scruple to claim and publish, as their own, the discoveries and inventions which they contained.
GALILEO. 7
It is not easy to ascertain the exact time when Galileo became a convert to the doctrines of Copernicus, or the particular circumstances under which he was led to adopt them. It is stated by Gerard Voss, that a public lecture of Msestlin, the instructor of Kepler, was the means of making Galileo acquainted with the true system of the universe. This assertion, however, is by no means probable ; and it has been ably shown, by the latest biographer of Galileo*, that, in his dialogues on the Copernican system, our author gives the true account of his own conversion. This passage is so interesting, that we shall give it entire.
" I cannot omit this opportunity of relating to you what happened to myself at the time when this opinion (the Copernican system) began to be discursed. I was then a very young man, and had scarcely finished my course of philosophy, which other occupations obliged me to leave off, when there arrived in this country, from Rostoch, a foreigner, whose name, I believe, was Christian Vurstisius (Wurteisen), a follower of Copernicus. This person delivered, on this subject, two or three lectures in a certain academy, and to a crowded audience. Be- lieving that several were attracted more by the novelty of the subject than by any other cause, and being firmly persuaded that this opinion was a piece of solemn folly, I was unwilling to be present. Upon interrogating, however, some of those who were there, I found that they all made it a subject of merriment, with the exception of one, who assured me that it was not a thing wholly ridiculous. As I considered this individual to be both prudent and circumspect, I repented that I had not attended the lectures ; and, whenever I met any of the followers of Copernicus, I began to inquire if they had always been of the same opinion. I found that there was not one of them who did not declare that he had long maintained the very opposite opinions, and had not gone over to the new doctrines till he was driven by the force of argument. I next examined them one by
• Life of Galileo, in Library of Useful Knowledge^ p. 9. B 4,
S LM'EBABY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
one, to see if they were masters of the arguments on the opposite side ; and such was the readiness of their answers, that I was satisfied they had not taken up this opinion from ignorance or vanity. On the other hand, whenever I interrogated the Peripatetics and the Ptole- means (an -1, out of curiosity, I have interrogated not a a few), respecting their perusal of Copernicus's work, I perceived that there were few who had seen the book, and not one who understood it. Nor have I omitted to enquire among the followers of the Peripatetic doctrines, if any of them had ever stood on the opposite side ; and the result was, that there was not one. Considering, then, that nobody followed theCopernican doctrine, who had not previously held the contrary opinion, and who was not well acquainted with the arguments of Aristotle and Ptolemy ; while, on the other hand, nobody followed Ptolemy and Aristotle, who had before adhered to Copernicus, and had gone over from him into the camp of Aristotle ; weigh- ing, I say, fhese things, I began to believe that, if any one who rejects an opinion which he has imbibed with his milk, and which has been embraced by an infinite number, shall take up an opinion held only by a few, condemned by all the schools, and really regarded as a great paradox, it cannot be doubted that he must have been induced, not to say driven, to embrace it by the most cogent arguments. On this account, I have become very curious to penetrate to the very bottom of the subject." *
It appears, on the testimony of Galileo himself, that he taught the Ptolemaic system, out of . compliance with the popular feeling, after he had convinced himself of the truth of the Copernican doctrines. In the treatise on the sphere, indeed, which bears his namef, and which must have been written soon after he went to Padua, and subsequently to 1 592, the stability of the earth, and the motion of the sun, are supported by the very argu-
* Systema Cosmicum, Dial. ii. p. 121.
f The authenticitj of this work has been doubted. It was printed at Rome, in lfitt, from a MS. m the library of Somaschi, at Venice. See Opere di Galileo, torn. vii. p. 427.
GALILEO. 9
ments which Galileo afterwards ridiculed ; -but we have no means of determining whether or not he had then adopted the true system of the universe. Although he might have taught the Ptolemaic system in his lectures, after he had convinced himself of its falsehood ; yet it is not likely that he would go so far as to publish to the world, as true, the very doctrines which he despised. In a letter to Kepler, dated in 1597, he distinctly states that he had, many years ago, adopted the opinions of Copernicus; but that he had not yet dared to publish his arguments in favour of them, and his refutation of the opposite opinions. These facts would leave us to place Galileo's conversion somewhere between 1593 and 1597 ; although many years cannot be said to have elapsed between these two dates.
At this early period of Galileo's life, in the year 1 593, he met with an accident, which had nearly proved fatal. A party at Padua, of which he was one, were enjoying, at an open window, a current of air, which was artificially cooled by a fall of water. Galileo unfor- tunately fell asleep under its influence ; and so powerful was its effect upon his robust constitution, that he contracted a severe chronic disorder, accompanied with acute pains in his body, and loss of sleep and appetite, which attacked him at intervals during the rest of his life. Others of the party suffered still more severely, and perished by their own rashness.
Galileo's reputation was now widely extended over Europe; and the archduke Ferdinand (afterwards emperor of Germany), the landgrave of Hesse, and the princes of Alsace and Mantua honoured his lectures with their presence. Prince Gustavus of Sweden also received instructions from him in mathematics, during his sojourn in Italy; and it has been supposed that this was the celebrated Gustavus Adolphus.
When Galileo had completed the first period of his engagement at Padua, he was re-elected for other six years, with an increased salary of 320 florins. This liberal addition to his income is ascribed by Fabbroni
10 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
to the malice of one of his enemies, who informed the senate that Galileo was living in illicit intercourse with Marina Gamha. Without inquiring into the truth of the accusation, the senate is said to have replied, that if ff he had a family to support, he had the more need of an increased salary." It is more likely that the liber- ality of the republic had been called forth by the high reputation of their professor, and that the terms of their reply were intended only to rebuke the malignity of the informer. The mode of expression would seem to indicate that one or more of Galileo's children had been born previous to his re-election in 1598 ; but as this is scarcely consistent with other facts, we are disposed to doubt the authenticity of Fabbroni's anecdote.
The new star, which attracted the notice of astrono- mers in 1604, excited the particular attention of Galileo. The observations which he made upon it, and the spe- culations which they suggested, formed the subject of three lectures, the beginning of the first of which only has reached our times. From the absence of parallax, he proved that the common hypothesis of its being a me- teor was erroneous, and that, like the fixed stars, it was situated far beyond the bounds of our own system. The popularity of the subject attracted crowds to his lecture- room ; and Galileo had the boldness to reproach his hearers for taking so deep an interest in a temporary phenomenon, while they passed unnoticed the wonders of creation which were daily presented to their view.
In the year 1606, Galileo was again appointed to the professorship at Padua, with an augmented stipend of 520 florins. His popularity had now risen so high, that his audience could not be accommodated in his lecture-room ; and even when he had assembled them in the school of medicine, which contained 1000 persons, he was frequently obliged to adjourn to the open air.
Among the variety of pursuits which occupied his attention, was the examination of the properties of the loadstone. In 1 607, he commenced his experiments ; but, with the exception of a method of arming loadstones,
GALILEO.
11
which, according to the report of Sir Kenelm Digby, en- abled them to carry twice as much weight as others, he does not seem to have made any additions to our know- ledge of magnetism. He appears to have studied with care the admirable work of our countryman, Dr. Gil- bert, " De Magnete," which was published in 1600; and he recognised, in the experiments and reasonings of the English philosopher, the principles of that method of investigating truth which he had himself adopted. Gilbert died in 1603, in the 63d year of his age, and probably never read the fine compliment which was paid to him by the Italian philosopher : — "I ex- tremely praise, admire, and envy this author."
In the preceding pages we have brought down the history of Galileo's labours to that auspicious year in which he first directed the telescope to the heavens. No sooner was that noble instrument placed in his hands, than Providence released him from his professional toils, and supplied him with the fullest leisure and the amplest means for pursuing and completing the grandest dis- coveries.
Although he had quitted the service and the domains of his munificent patron, the grand duke of Tuscany, yet he maintained his connection with the family, by visiting Florence during his academic vacations, and giving mathematical instruction to the younger branches of that distinguished house. Cosmo, who had been one of his pupils, now succeeded his father Ferdinand j and having his mind early imbued with a love of knowledge, which had become hereditary in his family, he felt that the residence of Galileo within his dominions — and still more his introduction into his household — would do honour to their common country, and reflect a lustre upon his own name. In the year 1609, accordingly, Cosmo made proposals to Galileo to return to his ori- ginal situation at Pisa. These overtures were gratefully received; and in the arrangements which Galileo on this occasion suggested, as well as in the manner in which they were urged, we obtain some insight into
12 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
his temper and character. He informs the correspond- ent through whom Cosmo's offer was conveyed, that his salary of 520 florins at Padua would be increased to as many crowns at his re-election ; and that he could enlarge his income to any extent he pleased, by giving private lectures, and receiving pupils. His public duties, he stated, occupied him only sixty half-hours in the year ; but his studies suffered such interruptions from the domestic pupils and private lectures, that his most ardent wish was to be relieved from them, in order that he might have sufficient rest and leisure, before the close of his life, to finish and publish those great works which he had in hand. In the event, therefore, of his returning to Pisa, he hoped that it would be the first object of his serene highness to give him leisure to complete his works without the drudgery of lecturing. He ex- presses his anxiety to gain his bread by his writings, and he promises to dedicate them to his serene master. He enumerates, among these books, two on the system of the universe ; three on local motion ; three books of mechanics ; two on the demonstration of principles, and one of problems ; besides treatises on sound and speech, on light and colours, on the tides, on the composition of continuous quantity, on the motions of animals, and on the military art On the subject of his salary, he makes the following curious observations : —
" I say nothing," says he, " on the amount of my salary ; being convinced that, as I am to li ve upon it, the graciousness of his highness would not deprive me of any of those comforts, of which, however, I feel the want of less than many others ; and, therefore, I say nothing more on the subject. Finally, on the title and profession of my service, I should wish that, to the title of mathematician, his highness would add that of philosopher, as I profess to have studied a greater number, of years in philosophy, than months in pure mathematics ; and how I have profited by it, and if I can or ought to deserve this title, I may let their highnesses see, as often as it shall please them to give
GALILEO. 13
me an opportunity of discussing such subjects in their presence with those who are most esteemed in this knowledge."
During the progress of this negotiation, Galileo went to Venice, on a visit to a friend, in the month of April or May, 1609- Here he learned, from common rumour, that a Dutchman, of the name of Jansen, had presented to prince Maurice of Nassau an optical instrument, which possessed the singular property of causing distant objects to appear nearer and larger to the observer. A few days afterwards, the truth of this report was confirmed by a letter which he received from James Badovere at Paris, and he immediately applied himself to the consideration of the subject. On the first night after his return to Padua, he found, in the doctrines of refraction, the principle which he sought. He placed at the ends of a leaden tube two spectacle glasses, both of which were plain on one side, while one of them had its other side convex, and the other its second side concave, and having applied his eye to the concave glass, he saw objects pretty large and pretty near him. This little instrument, which magnified only three times, he carried in triumph to Venice, where it excited the most intense interest. Crowds of the principal citizens flocked to his house to see the magical toy; and after nearly a month had been spent in gratifying this epidemical curiosity, Galileo was led to understand from Leonardo Deodati, the doge of Venice, that the senate would be highly gratified by obtaining possession of so extraordinary an instrument. Galileo instantly complied with the wishes of his patrons, who acknowledged the present by a man- date conferring upon him for life his professorship at Padua, and generously raising his salary from 520 to 1000 florins.
Although we cannot doubt the veracity of Galileo, when he affirms that he had never seen any of the Dutch telescopes, yet it is expressly stated by Fuccarius, that one of these instruments had at this time been brought to Florence. In a letter from Lorenzo Pignoria to
14 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
Paolo Gualdo, dated from Padua, on the 31st of August, 1609, it is expressly said, that, at the re-election of the professors, Galileo had contrived to ohtain 1000 florins for life, which was alleged to be on account of an eye- glass like the one which was sent from Flanders to the Cardinal Borghese.
In a memoir so brief and general as the present, it would be out of place to discuss the history of this ex- traordinary invention. We have no hesitation in as- serting that a method of magnifying distant objects was known to Baptista Porta and others ; but it seems to be equally certain that an instrument for producing these effects was first constructed in Holland, and that it was from that kingdom that Galileo derived the knowledge of its existence. In considering the contending claims, which have been urged with all the ardour and partiality of national feeling, it has been generally overlooked, that a single convex lens, whose focal length exceeds the distance at which we examine minute objects, performs the part of a telescope, when an eye, placed behind it, sees distinctly the inverted image which it forms. A lens, twenty feet in focal length, will in this manner magnify twenty times ; and it was by the same principle that Sir William Herschel discovered a new satellite of Saturn, by using only the mirror of his forty-feet telescope. The instrument presented to prince Maurice, and which the marquis Spinola found in the Dutch optician's shop, performing the part of a philosophical toy, by exhibiting a magnified and inverted image of a distant weathercock, must have been a single lens such as we have mentioned, or an astronomical telescope consisting of two convex lenses. Upon either of these suppositions, it differed entirely from that which Galileo constructed ; and the Italian philosopher will be justly entitled to the honour of having invented that form of the telescope which still bears his name.
The interest which the exhibition of the telescope excited at Venice did not soon subside : Serturi describes it as amounting almost to phrensy. When he himself
GALILEO. 1 5
had succeeded in making one of these instruments, he ascended the tower of St. Mark, where he might use it without molestation. He was recognised, however, hy a crowd in the street ; and such was the eagerness of their curiosity, that they took possession of the wondrous tube, and detained the impatient philosopher for several hours, till they had successively witnessed its effects. Desirous of obtaining the same gratification for their friends, they endeavoured to learn the name of the inn at which he lodged ; but Serturi fortunately overheard their inquiries, and quitted Venice early next morning, in order to avoid a second visitation of this new school of philosophers. The opticians speedily availed them- selves of this new instrument. Galileo's tube, — or the double eye-glass, as it was then called, for Demisiano had not yet given it the appellation of a telescope, — was manufactured in great quantities, and in a very superior manner. The instruments were purchased merely as philosophical toys, and were carried by travellers into every corner of Europe.
The art of grinding and polishing lenses was at this time very imperfect. Galileo, and those whom he in- structed, were alone capable of making tolerable instru- ments. It appears, from the testimony of Gassendi and Gaertner, that, in 1634, a good telescope could not be procured in Paris, Venice, or Amsterdam ; and that, even in 1637, there was not one in Holland which could show Jupiter's disc well defined.
After Galileo had completed his first instrument, which magnified only three times, he executed a larger and more accurate one, with a power of about eight. " At length," as he himself remarks, " sparing nei- ther labour nor expense," he constructed an instru- ment so excellent, that it magnified more than thirty times.
The first celestial object to which Galileo applied his telescope was the moon, which, to use his own words, appeared as near as if it had been distant only two semidiameters of the earth. He then directed it to the
16 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
planets and the fixed stars, which he frequently observed with " incredible satisfaction." *
The observations which he made upon the moon possessed a high degree of interest. The general re- semblance of its surface to that of our own globe na- turally fixed his attention ; and he was soon able to trace, in almost every part of the lunar disc, ranges of mountains, deep hollows, and other inequalities, which reflected from their summits the rays of the rising sun, while the intervening hollows were still buried in dark- ness. The dark and luminous spaces he regarded as indicating seas and continents, which reflected, in dif- ferent degrees, the incident light of the sun ; and he ascribed the phosphorescence, as it has been improperly called, or the secondary light, which is seen on the dark limb of the moon in her first and last quarters, to the reflection of the sun's light from the earth.
These discoveries were ill received by the followers of Aristotle. According to their preconceived opinions, the moon was perfectly spherical, and perfectly smooth ; to cover it with mountains, and to scoop it out into valleys, was an act of impiety which defaced the regular forms which nature herself had imprinted. It was in vain that Galileo appealed to the evidence of observation, and to the actual surface of our own globe. The very irregularities on the moon were, in his opinion, the proof of divine wisdom : and had its surface been per- fectly smooth, it would have been " but a vast un- blessed desert, void of animals, of plants, of cities, and of men ; the abode of silence and inaction ; senseless, lifeless, soulless, and stripped of all those ornaments which now render it so various and so beautiful."
In examining the fixed stars, and comparing them with the planets, Galileo discovered a remarkable dif- ference in the appearance of their discs. All the planets appeared with round globular discs like the moon ; whereas the fixed stars never exhibited any disc at all, but resembled lucid points sending forth twinkling rays.
* Incredibili animi jucunditate.— Std.
GALILEO. 17
Stars of all magnitudes he found to have the same ap- pearance ; those of the fifth and sixth magnitude having the same character when seen through a telescope,, as Sirius, the largest of the stars, when seen by the naked eye. Upon directing his telescope to nebul* and clus- ters of stars, he was delighted to find that they consisted of great numbers of stars which could not be recognised by unassisted vision. He counted no fewer than forty in the cluster called the Pleiades, or Seven Stars; and he has given us drawings of this constellation, as well as of the belt and sword of Orion, and of the nebula of Praesepe. In the great nebula of the Milky Way, he descried crowds of minute stars ; and he concluded that this singular portion derived its whiteness from still smaller stars, which his telescope was unable to separate. Important and interesting as these discoveries were, they were thrown into the shade by those to which he was led during an accurate examination of the planets with a more powerful telescope. On the 7th of January, 1610, at one o'clock in the morning, when he directed this telescope to Jupiter, he observed three stars near the body of the planet; two being to the east and one to the west of him. They were all in a straight line, and parallel to the ecliptic, and appeared brighter than other stars of the same magnitude. Believing them to be fixed stars, he paid no great attention to their distances from Jupiter and from one another. On the 8th of January, however, when, from some cause or other *, he had been led to observe the stars again, he found a very dif- ferent arrangement of them : all the three were on the west side of Jupiter, nearer one another than before, and almost at equal distances. Though he had not turned his attention to the extraordinary fact of the mutual approach of the stars, yet he began to consider how Jupiter could be found to the east of the three stars, when only the day before he had been to the west of two of them. The only explanation which he could give of this fact was, that the motion of Jupiter was direct
* Nescio quo fato ductus. VOL. II. C
18 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
contrary to astronomical calculations; and that he had got before these two stars by his own motion.
In this dilemma between the testimony of his senses and the results of calculation, he waited for the follow- ing night with the utmost anxiety : but his hopes were disappointed ; for the heavens were wholly veiled in clouds. On the tenth, two only of the stars appeared, and both on the east of the planet. As it was obviously impossible that Jupiter could have advanced from west to east on the 8th of January, and from east to west on the 10th, Galileo was forced to conclude that the phe- nomenon which he had observed, arose from the motion of the stars, and he set himself to observe diligently their change of place. On the llth, there were still only two stars ; and both to the east of Jupiter ; but the more eastern star was now twice as large as the other one, though on the preceding night they had been perfectly equal. This fact threw a new light upon Galileo's dif- ficulties, and he immediately drew the conclusion, which he considered to be indubitable — " that there were in the heavens three stars which revolved round Jupiter, in the same manner as Venus and Mercury revolve round the sun." On the 12th of January, he again ob- served them in new positions, and of different magni- tudes ; and, on the 13th, he discovered a fourth star, which completed the four secondary planets with which Jupiter is surrounded.
Galileo continued his observations on these bodies every clear night till the 22d of March, and studied their motions in reference to fixed stars that were at the same time within the field of his telescope. Having thus clearly established that the four new stars were satellites or moons, which revolved round Jupiter in the same manner as the moon revolves round our own globe, he drew up an account of his discovery, in which he gave to the four new bodies the names of the Medicean Stars, in honour of his patron, Cosmo de' Medici, grand duke of Tuscany. This work, under the title of " Nuncius Sidereus/' or the " Sidereal Messen-
GALILEO. 19
ger," was dedicated to the same prince; and the dedica- tion bears the date of the 4th of March, only two days after he concluded his observations.
The importance of this great discovery was instantly felt by the enemies as weh1 as by the friends of the C6- pernican system. The planets had hitherto been dis- tinguished from the fixed stars only by their relative change of place ; but the telescope proved them to be bodies so near to our own globe as to exhibit well-defined discs ; while the fixed stars retained, even when magni- fied, the minuteness of remote and lucid points. The system of Jupiter, illuminated by four moons performing their revolutions in different and regular periods, ex- hibited to our proud reason the comparative insig- nificance of the globe we inhabit, and proclaimed in impressive language that that globe was not the centre of the universe.
The reception which these discoveries met with from Kepler is highly interesting, and characteristic of the genius of that great man. He was one day sitting idle, and thinking of Galileo, when his friend Wachenfels stopped his carriage at his door, to communicate to him the intelligence. " Such a fit of wonder," says he, " seized me at a report which setmed to be so very absurd, and I was thrown into such agitation at seeing an old dispute between us decided in this way, that between his joy, my colouring, and the laughter of both, confounded as we were by such a novelty, we were hardly capable, he of speaking, or I of listening. On our parting, I immediately began to think how there could be any addition to the number of the planets, without overturning my ' Cosmographic Mystery/ according to which Euclid's five regular solids do not allow more than six planets round the sun. * * * I am so far from disbelieving the existence of the four circum- iovial planets, that I long for a telescope, to anticipate you, if possible, in discovering two round Mars, as the proportion seems to require, si.v or eight round Saturn, and jerhaps one each round Mercury and Venus." c 2
20 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
In a very different spirit did the Aristotelians receive the " Sidereal Messenger " of Galileo. The principal professor of philosophy at Padua resisted Galileo's re- peated and urgent entreaties to look at the moon and planets through his telescope ; and he even laboured to convince the grand duke that the satellites of Jupiter could not possibly exist. Sizzi, an astronomer of Flo- rence, maintained, that as there were only seven apertures in the head — two eyes, two ears, two nostrils, and one mouth — and as there were only seven metals, and seven days in the week, so there could be only seven planets. He seems, however, to have admitted the visibility of the four satellites through the telescope ; but he argues, that as they are invisible to the naked eye, they can exercise no influence on the earth ; and being useless, they do not therefore exist.
A protege of Kepler's, of the name of Horky, wrote a volume against Galileo's discovery, after having de- clared, " that he would never concede his four new planets to that Italian from Padua, even if he should die for it." This resolute Aristotelian was at no loss for arguments. He asserted that he had examined the heavens through Galileo's own glass, and that no such thing as a satellite existed round Jupiter. He affirmed, that he did not more surely know that he had a soul in his body, than that reflected rays are the sole cause of Galileo's erroneous observations; and that the only use of the new planets was to gratify Galileo's thirst for gold, and afford himself a subject of discussion.
When Horky first presented himself to Kepler, after the publication of this work, the opinion of his patron was announced to him by a burst of indignation which overwhelmed the astonished author. Horky supplicated mercy for his offence; and, as Kepler himself informed Galileo, he took him again into favour, on the condition that Kepler was to show him Jupiter's satellites ; and that Horky was not only to see them, but to admit their existence.
When the spirit of philosophy had thus left the in-
GALILEO. 21
dividuals who bore her sacred name, it was fortunate for science that it found a refuge in the minds of princes. Notwithstanding the reiterated logic of his philosophical professor at Padua, Cosmo de' Medici preferred the tes- timony of his senses to the syllogisms of his instructor. He observed the new planets several times,, along with Galileo, at Pisa ; and when he parted with him, he gave him a present worth more than 1000 florins, and con- cluded that liberal arrangement to which we have already referred.
As philosopher and principal mathematician to the grand duke of Tuscany, Galileo now took up his resi- dence at Florence, with a salary of 1000 florins. No official duties, excepting that of lecturing occasionally to sovereign princes, were attached to this appointment; and it was expressly stipulated that he should enjoy the most perfect leisure to complete his treatises on the con- stitution of the universe, on mechanics, and on local motion. The resignation of his professorship at Padua, which necessarily followed his new appointment, created much dissatisfaction in that university : but though many of his former friends refused at first to hold any communication with him, this feeling gradually sub- sided ; and the Venetian senate at last appreciated the views, as well as the powerful motives, which induced a stranger to accept of promotion in his native land.
While Galileo was enjoying the reward and the fame of his great discovery, a new species of enmity was roused against them. Simon Mayer, an astronomer of no character, pretended that he had discovered the sa- tellites of Jupiter before Galileo, and that his first observ- ation was made on the 29th of December, 1609. Other astronomers announced the discovery of new satellites : Scheiner reckoned five, Rheita nine, and others found even so many as twelve : these satellites, however, were found to be only fixed stars. The names of Vladisla- vian, Agrippine, Uranodavian, and Ferdinandotertian, which were hastily given to these common telescopic stars, soon disappeared from the page of science, and c 3
2';i L1TEKARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
even the splendid telescopes of modern times have not been able to add another gem to the diadem of Jupiter.
A modern astronomer of no mean celebrity has, even in the present day, endeavoured to rob Galileo of this staple article of his reputation. From a careless exa- mination of the papers of our celebrated countryman, Thomas Harriot, which baron Zach had made in 1784, at Petworth, the seat of lord Egremont, this astronomer has asserted* that Harriot first observed the satellites of Jupiter on the l6'th of January, 1610 ; and continued his observations till the 25th of February, l6'12. Baron Zach adds the following extraordinary conclusion : — " Galileo pretends to have discovered them on the 7th of January, 1610; so that it is not improbable that Harriot was likewise the first discoverer of these attendants of Jupiter." In a communication which I received from Dr. Robertson, of Oxford, in 1822t, he informed me that he had examined a class of Harriot's papers, en- titled, " De Jovialibus Planetis ; " and that it appears, from two pages of these papers, that Harriot first ob- served Jupiter's satellites on the 17 th of October, l6'lO. These observations are accompanied with rough drawings of the positions of the satellites, and rough calculations of their periodical revolutions. My friend, professor Rigaud:j:, who has very recently examined the Harriot MSS., has confirmed the accuracy of Dr. Robertson's ob- servations, and has thus restored to Galileo the honour of being the first and the sole discoverer of these se- condary planets.
The great success which attended the first telescopic observations of Galileo, induced him to apply his best instruments to the other planets of our system. The at- tempts which had been made to deprive him of the honour of some of his discoveries, combined, probably, with a desire to repeat his observations with better tele- scopes, led him to announce his discoveries under the
* Berlin Ephemeris, 1788.
f Edin Phil. Journ. vol. vi. p. 313.
j Life and Correspondence of Dr. Bradley. Oxford, 1832, p. 523.
GALILEO. 23
veil of an enigma ; and to invite astronomers to declare, within a given time, if they had observed any new phe- nomena in the heavens.
Before the close of l6lO, Galileo excited the cu- riosity of astronomers, by the publication of his first enigma. Kepler and others tried in vain to decipher it ; but in consequence of the emperor Rodolph requesting a solution of the puzzle, Galileo sent him the following clue : — ,
" Altissimam planetam tergeminam observavi." I have observed that the most remote planet is triple.
In explaining more fully the nature of his observation, Galileo remarked that Saturn was not a single star, but three together, nearly touching one another : he de- scribed them as having no relative motion, and as having the form of three o's, namely, oOo, the central one being larger than those on each side of it.
Although Galileo had announced that nothing new appeared in the other planets, yet he soon communicated to the world another discovery of no slight interest. The enigmatical letters in which it was concealed, formed the following sentence : —
" Cynthiae figuras aemulatur mater Amorum." Venus rivals the phases of the moon.
Hitherto, Galileo had observed Venus when her disc was largely illuminated ; but having directed his tele- scope to her when she was not far removed from the sun, he saw her in the form of a crescent, resembling exactly the moon at the same elongation from the sun. He continued to observe her night after night, during the whole time that she could be seen in the course of her revolution round the sun, and he found that she ex- hibited the very same phases which resulted from her motion round that luminary.
Galileo had long contemplated a visit to the metro- polis of Italy, and he accordingly carried his intentions into effect in the early part of the year l6ll. Here he was received with that distinction which was due to his c 4
24 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
great talents and his extended reputation. Princes, cardinals, and prelates hastened to do him honour ; and even those who discredited his discoveries, and dreaded their results, vied with the true friends of science in their anxiety to see the first wonder of the age.
In order to show the new celestial phenomena to his friends at Rome, Galileo took with him his best tele- scope ; and as he had discovered the spots on the sun's surface in the month of March, l6l 1, he had the grati- fication of exhibiting this new wonder to his admiring disciples. He accordingly erected his telescope in the Quirinal garden, belonging to cardinal Bandini ; and in April, 1611, he exhibited them to his friends in many of their most interesting variations. From their change of position on the sun's disc, Galileo at first inferred, either that the sun revolved about an axis ; or that other planets, like Venus and Mercury, revolved so near the sun as to appear like black spots when they were oppo- site to his disc. Upon continuing his observations, how- ever, he saw reason to abandon this last opinion. He found, that the spots must be in contact with the sur- face of the sun ; that their figures were irregular ; that they had different degrees of darkness; that one spot would often divide itself into three or four; that three or four spots would often unite themselves into one ; and that all the spots revolved regularly with the sun, which appeared to complete its revolution in about twenty-eight days.
Previous to the invention of the telescope, spots had been more than once seen on the sun's disc with the unassisted eye. But even if these were of the same character as those which Galileo and others observed, we cannot consider them as anticipations of their dis- covery by the telescope. As the telescope was now in the possession of several astronomers, Galileo began to have many rivals in discovery ; and it is now placed beyond the reach of doubt, that he was not the first dis- coverer of the solar spots. From the communication which I received from the late Dr. Robertson, of
GALILEO. 25
Oxford*, it appears that Thomas Harriot had disco- vered the solar spots on or before the 8th of December, Ib'lO. His manuscripts, in lord Egremcnt's possession, incontestably prove that his regular observations on the spots commenced on the 8th of December, l6lO, — at least three months before Galileo discovered them ; and that they were continued till the 18th of January, l6l3. The observations which he has recorded are 199 in number ; and the accounts of them are accompanied with rough drawings representing the number, position, and magnitude of the spots. t
Another candidate for the honour of discovering the spots of the sun, was John Fabricius, who undoubtedly saw them previous to June, l6ll. The dedication of the work $ in which he has recorded his observation, bears the date of the 13th of June, 1611 ; and it is obvious, from the work itself, that he had seen the spots during the year l6lO : but as there is no proof that he saw them before the 8th of December, 16' 10, and as it is probable that Harriot had seen them before that date, we are compelled to assign the priority of the discovery to our distinguished countryman.
The claim of Scheiner, professor of mathematics at Ingolstadt, is more intimately connected with the history of Galileo. This learned astronomer having, early in l6ll, turned his telescope to the sun, necessarily dis- covered the spots which at that time covered his disc. Light flying clouds happened, at the time, to weaken the intensity of his light, so that he was able to show the spots to his pupils. These observations were not published till January, 1612 ; and they appeared in the form of three letters, addressed to Mark Velser, one of the magistrates of Augsburg, under the signature of Apelles post Tabulam. Scheiner, who, many years afterwards, published an elaborate work on the subject, adopted the same idea which had at first occurred to Galileo, — that
* See page 22.
t Edin. Phil Journ. 1822, vol. vi. p. 317.
j Job. Fabricii Phrysii de Maculis in Sole observatU, et apparente ea- rum cum Sole conversione, Narraiio. \Vittejnb. 1611.
26 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
the spots were the dark sides of planets revolving round and near the sun.*
On the publication of Scheiner's letters Velser trans- mitted a copy of them to his friend Galileo, with the request that he would favour him with his opinion of the new phenomena. After some delay, Galileo ad- dressed three letters to Velser, in which he combated the opinions of Scheiner on the cause of the spots. These letters were dated the 4th of May, 1 6 1 2 ; but though the controversy was carried on in the language of mu- tual respect and esteem, it put an end to the friendship which had existed between the two astronomers. In these letters, Galileo showed that the spots often dis- persed like vapours or clouds; that they sometimes had a duration of only one or two days, and at other times of thirty or forty days ; that they contracted in their breadth when they approached the sun's limb, without any diminution of their length ; that they describe cir- cles parallel to each other ; that the monthly rotation of the sun again brings the same spots into view; and that they are seldom seen at a greater distance than 30° from the sun's equator. Galileo, likewise, discovered on the sun's disc faculce, or luculi, as they were called, which differ in no respect from the common ones but in their being brighter than the rest of the sun's surf ace. t
* It does not appear from the history of solar observations, at what time, and by whom, coloured glasses were first introduced for permitting the eye to look at the sun with impunity. Fabricius was obviously quite ignorant of the use of coloured glasses. He observed the sun when he was in the horizon, and when his brilliancy was impaired by the interposition of thin clouds and floating vapours ; and he advises those who may repeat his ob- servations, to admit at first to the eye a small portion of the sun's light, till it is gradually accustomed to its full splendour. When the sun's altitude became considerable, Kabricius gave up his observations ; which he often continued so long, that he was scarcely able, for two days together, to see objects with their usual distinctness.
Scheiner, in his " Apelles postTabulam," describes four different waysof viewing the spots: one of which is by the interposition of blue or green flosses. His first method was to observe the sun near the horizon ; the second was to view him through a transparent cloud ; the third was to look at him through his telescope with a blue or a green gla<s of a proper thickness, and plane on IK th sides, or to use a thin blue glass when the sun was covered with a thin vapour or cloud ; and the fourth method was to begin and observe the sun at his margin, till the eye gradually reached the middle of his <li>c.
f See Istoria e Demostrazioni, intorna alle macchie solari. Romat 1613. See Opere di Galileo, vol. v. p. 131— 29&
GALILEO. 27
In the last of the letters which our author addressed to Velser, and which was written in December, l6l2, he recurs to his former discovery of the elongated shape, or rather the triple structure, of Saturn. The singular figure which he had observed in this planet had en- tirely disappeared ; and he evidently announces the fact to Velser, lest it should be used by his enemies to dis- credit the accuracy of his observations. " Looking on Saturn," says he, " within these few days, I found it solitary, without the assistance of its accustomed stars, and, in short, perfectly round and defined like Jupiter; and such it still remains. Now, what can be said of so strange a metamorphosis ? Are the two smaller stars consumed like the spots on the sun ? Have they suddenly vanished and fled? or has Saturn devoured his own children ? or was the appearance indeed fraud and illusion, with which the glasses have for so long a time mocked me, and so many others who have often observed with me ? Now, perhaps, the time is come to revive the withering hopes of those who, guided by more profound contemplations, have followed all the fallacies of the new observations, and recognised their impossibilities. I cannot resolve what to say in a chance so strange, so new, and so unexpected ; the shortness of the time, the unexampled occurrence, the weakness of my intellect, and the terror of being mistaken, have greatly confounded me." Although Galileo struggled to obtain a solution of this mystery, yet he had not the good fortune of succeeding. He imagined that the two smaller stars would reappear, in consequence of the supposed revolution of the planet round its axis ; but the discovery of the ring of Saturn, and of the obliquity of its plane to the ecliptic, was necessary to explain the phenomena which were so perplexing to our author.
The ill health to which Galileo was occasionally subject, and the belief that the air of Florence was prejudicial to his complaints, induced him to spend much of bis time at Selve, the villa of his friend Salviari. This eminent individual had ever been the warmest friend of
28 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
Galileo, and seems to have delighted in drawing round him the scientific genius of the age. He was a member of the celebrated Lyncaean Society, founded by Prince Frederigo Cesi ; and though he is not known as the author of any important discovery, yet he has earned, by his liberality to science, a glorious name, which will be in- dissolubly united with the immortal destiny of Galileo. The subject of floating bridges having been discussed at one of the scientific parties which had assembled at the house of Salviati, a difference of opinion arose re- specting the influence of the shape of bodies on their disposition to float or to sink in a fluid. Contrary to the general opinion, Galileo undertook to prove that it depended on other causes ; and he was thus led to com- pose his discourse on floating bodies*, which was pub- lished in 1612, and dedicated to Cosmo de' Medici. This work contains many ingenious experiments, and much acute reasoning in support of the true principles of hydrostatics ; and it is now chiefly remarkable as a specimen of the sagacity and intellectual power of its author. Like all his other works, it encountered the most violent opposition; and Galileo was more than once summoned into the field to repel the aggressions of his ignorant and presumptuous opponents. The first attack upon it was made by Ptolemy Nozzolini, in a letter to Marzemedici, archbishop of Florence t; and to this Galileo replied in a letter addressed to his antagonist. $ A more elaborate examination of it was published by Lodovico delle Colombe, and another by M. Vincenzo di Grazia. To these attacks, a minute and overwhelm- ing answer was printed in the name of Ben^letti Castelli, the friend and pupil of Galileo : but it w&s discovered, some years after Galileo's death, that he was himself the author of this work. §
* Discorso intorno alle cose che stanno in sa I'acqua, o che in quella si muovono. Opere di Galileo, vol. ii. pp. 165 — 311.
f Opere di Galileo, vol. ii. pp. 355—367.
J Ibid. 367— 390.
\ These three treatises occupy the whole of the third volume of the Opere di Galileo.
GALILEO. 29
The current of Galileo's life had hitherto flowed in a smooth and unobstructed channel. He had now at- tained the highest objects of earthly ambition. His discoveries had placed him at the head of the great men of his age ; he possessed a professional income far beyond his wants, and even beyond his anticipations ; and, what is still dearer to a philosopher, he enjoyed the most perfect leisure for carrying on and completing his discoveries. The opposition which these discoveries encountered, was to him more a subject for triumph than for sorrow. Prejudice and ignorance were his only enemies; and if they succeeded for a while in harassing his march, it was only to give him occasion for fresh achievements. He who contends for truths which he has himself been permitted to discover, may well sus- tain the conflict in which presumption and error are destined to fall. The public tribunal may neither be sufficiently pure nor enlightened to decide upon the issue ; but he can appeal to posterity, and reckon with confidence on " its sure decree."
The ardour of Galileo's mind, the keenness of his temper, his clear perception of truth, and his inextin- guishable love of it, combined to exasperate and prolong the hostility of his enemies. When argument failed to enlighten their judgment, and reason to remove their prejudices, he wielded against them his powerful weapons of ridicule and sarcasm ; and in this unrelenting warfare, he seems to have forgotten that Providence had withheld from liis enemies those very gifts which he had so liber - ally received. He who is allowed to take the start of his species, and to penetrate the veil which conceals from common minds the mysteries of nature, must not expect that the world will be patiently dragged at the chariot wheels of his philosophy. Mind has its inertia, as well as matter; and its progress to truth can only be insured by the gradual and patient removal of the obstructions which surround it.
The boldness — may we not say the recklessness ? — with which Galileo insisted upon making proselytes of
SO LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
his enemies, produced the very opposite effect. Errors thus assailed, entrenched themselves in general feelings, and were embalmed in the virulence of the passions. The various classes of his opponents marshalled them- selves for their mutual defence. The Aristotelian pro- fessors, the temporising Jesuits, the political church- men, and that timid but respectable body who at all times dread innovation, whether it he in religion or in science, entered into an alliance against the philoso- phical tyrant who threatened them with the penalties of knowledge.
The party of Galileo, though weak in numbers, was not without power and influence. He had trained around him a devoted band, who idolised his genius and supported his views. His pupils had heen ap- pointed to several of the principal professorships in Italy. The enemies of religion were on this occasion united with the Christian philosopher ; and there were, even in these days, many princes and nohles who had felt the inconvenience of ecclesiastical jurisdiction, and who secretly abetted Galileo in his crusade against established errors.
Although these two parties had been long dreading each other's power, and reconnoitring each other's posi- tion, yet we cannot exactly determine which of them hoisted the first signal for war. The church party, par- ticularly its high dignitaries, were certainly disposed to rest on the defensive. Flanked on one side by the logic of the schools, and on the other by the popular inter- pretation of Scripture, and backed by the strong arm of the civil power, they were not disposed to interfere with the prosecution of science, however much they may have dreaded its influence. The philosophers, on the con- trary, united the zeal of innovators with the firmness of purpose which truth alone can inspire. Victorious in every contest, they were flushed with success, and they panted for a struggle in which they knew they must triumph.
In this state of warlike preparation Galileo addressed
GALILEO. 31
a letter, in 1613, to his friend and pupil, the abte Cas- telli, the object of which was to prove that the Scriptures were not intended to teach us science and philosophy. Hence he inferred, that the language employed in the sacred volume in reference to such subjects should be interpreted only in its common acceptation ; and that it was in reality as difficult to reconcile the Ptolemaic as the Copernican system to the expressions which occur in the Bible.
A demonstration was about this time made by the opposite party, in the person of Caccini, a Dominican friar, who made a personal attack upon Galileo from the pulpit. This violent ecclesiastic ridiculed the astro- nomer and his followers, by addressing them in the sacred language of Scripture ; " Ye men of Galilee, why stand ye here looking up into heaven ? " But this species of warfare was disapproved of even by the church ; and Luigi Maraffi, the general of the Dominicans, not only apologised to Galileo, who had transmitted to him a formal complaint against Caccini, but expressed the acuteness of his own feelings on being implicated in the " brutal conduct of thirty or forty thousand monks."
From, the character of Caccini, and the part which he afterwards played in the persecution of Galileo, we can scarcely avoid the opinion that his attack from the pulpit was intended as a snare for the unwary philosopher. It roused Galileo from his wonted caution ; and stimu- lated, no doubt, by the nature of the answer which he received from Maraffi, he published a longer letter of seventy pages, defending and illustrating his former views respecting the influence of scriptural language on the two contending systems. As if to give the impress of royal authority to this new appeal, he addressed it to Christian, grand- duchess of Tuscany, the mother of Cosmo ; and in this form it seems to have excited a new interest, as if it had expressed the opinion of the grand, ducal family. These external circumstances gave ad-
32 LITERARY AND SCIKNTIF1C MEN.
ditional weight to the powerful and unanswerable reason- ing which this letter contains ; and it was scarcely possible that any man,, possessed of a sound mind, and willing to learn the truth, should refuse his assent to the judicious views of our author. He expresses his belief that the Scriptures were given to instruct mankind respecting their salvation, and that the faculties of our minds were given us for the purpose of investigating the phenomena of nature. He considers Scripture and nature as proceeding from the same divine author, and, therefore, incapable of speaking a different language ; and he points out the absurdity of supposing that pro- fessors of astronomy will shut their eyes to the phe- nomena which they discover in the heavens, or will refuse to believe those deductions of reason which appeal to their judgment with all the power of demonstration. He supports these views by quotations from the ancient fathers ; and he refers to the dedication of Copernicus's own work to the Roman pontiff, Paul III., as a proof that the pope himself did not regard the new system of the world as hostile to the sacred writings. Copernicus, on the contrary, tells his holiness, that the reason of in- scribing to him his new system was, that the authority of the pontiff might put to silence the calumnies of some individuals, who attacked it by arguments drawn from passages of Scripture twisted for their own purpose.
It was in vain to meet such arguments by any other weapons than those of the civil power. His enemies saw that they must either crush the dangerous innova- tion, or allow it the fullest scope ; and they determined upon an appeal to the inquisition. Lorini, a monk of the Dominican order, had already denounced to this body Galileo's letter to Castelli ; and Caccini, bribed by the mastership of the convent of St. Mary of Minerva, was invited to settle at Rome for the purpose of em- bodying the evidence against Galileo.
Though these plans had been carried on in secret, yet Galileo's suspicions were excited ; and he obtained leave from Cosmo to go to Rome about the end of
GALILEO. 33
1615.* Here he was lodged in the palace of the grand duke's ambassador, and kept up a constant correspond- ence with the family of his patron at Florence ; but, in the midst of this external splendour, he was summoned before the inquisition to answer for the heretical doc- trines which he had published. He was charged with maintaining the motion of the earth, and the stability of the sun, with teaching this doctrine to his pupils, with corresponding on the subject with several German mathematicians, and with having published it, and attempted to reconcile it to Scripture, in his letters to Mark Velser in 1612. The inquisition assembled to consider these charges on the 25th of February, l6'15 ; and it was decreed that Galileo should be enjoined by cardinal Bellarmine to renounce the obnoxious doctrines, and to pledge himself that he would neither teach, de- fend, nor publish them in future. In the event of his refusing to acquiesce in this sentence, it was decreed that he should be thrown into prison. Galileo did not he- sitate to yield to this injunction. On the day following, the 26th of February, he appeared before cardinal Bellarmine, to renounce his heretical opinions ; and, having declared that he abandoned the doctrine of the earth's motion, and would neither defend nor teach it, in his conversation or in his writings, he was dismissed the court.
Having thus disposed of Galileo, the inquisition con- ceived the design of condemning the whole system of Copernicus as heretical. Galileo, with more hardihood than prudence, remained at Rome for the purpose of giving his assistance in frustrating this plan ; but there is reason to think that he injured by his presence the very cause which he meant to support. The inquisition had determined to put down the new opinions ; and they now inserted among the prohibited books Galileo's letters to Castelli and the grand duchess, Kepler's epitome of
* It is said that Galileo was cited to appear at Rome on this occasion ; and the opinion is not without foundation.
34t LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
the Copernican theory, and Copernicus's own work on the revolutions of the heavenly bodies.
Notwithstanding these proceedings, Galileo had an audience of the pope, Paul V., in March, l6l6. He was received very graciously, and spent nearly an hour with his holiness. When they were about to part, the pope assured Galileo, that the congregation were not disposed to receive upon light grounds any calumnies which might be propagated by his enemies, and that, as long as he occupied the papal chair, he might consider himself as safe.
These assurances were no doubt founded on the be- lief that Galileo would adhere to his pledges; but so bold and inconsiderate was he in the expression of his opi- nions, that even in Rome he was continually engaged in controversial discussions. The following very interest- ing account of these disputes is given by Querenghi, in a letter to the cardinal D'Este : —
" Your eminence would be delighted with Galileo if you heard him holding forth, as he often does, in the midst of fifteen or twenty, all violently attacking him, sometimes in one house, sometimes in another. But he is armed after such fashfbn that he laughs all of them to scorn, — and even if the novelty of his opinions pre- vents entire persuasion, at least he convicts of emptiness most of the arguments with which his adversaries en- deavour to overwhelm him. He was particularly ad- mirable on Monday last in the house of signer Freclerico Ghisilieri; and what especially pleased me was, that before replying to the contrary arguments, he amplified and enforced them with new grounds of great plausi- bility, so as to leave his adversaries in a more ridiculous plight, when he afterwards overturned them all."
The discovery of Jupiter's satellites suggested to Galileo a new method of finding the longitude at sea. Philip III. had encouraged astronomers to direct their attention to this problem, by offering a reward for its solution ; and in those days, when new discoveries in science were sometimes rejected as injurious to man-
GALILEO. 35
kind, it was no common event to see a powerful sove- reign courting the assistance of astronomers in promoting the commercial interests of his empire. Galileo seems to have regarded the solution of this problem as an object worthy of his ambition ; and he no doubt antici- pated the triumph which he would obtain ' over his enemies, if the Medicean stars, which they had treated with such contempt, could be made subservient to the great interests of mankind. During his residence at Rome in 1615 and I6l6, Galileo had communicated his views on this subject to the comte di Lemos, the viceroy of Naples, who had presided over the council of the Spanish Indies. This nobleman advised him to apply to the Spanish minister, the duke of Lerma ; and, through the influence of the grand duke Cosmo, his ambassador at the court of Madrid was engaged to manage the affair. The anxiety of Galileo on this subject was singularly great. He assured the Tuscan ambassador that, in order to accomplish this object, "he was ready to leave all his comforts, his country, his friends, and his family, to cross over into Spain,- and to stay as long as he might be wanted at Seville or at Lisbon, or wherever it might be convenient to com- municate a knowledge of his method." The enthusiasm of Galileo seems to have increased the lethargy of the Spanish court ; and though the negotiations were oc- casionally revived for ten or twelve years, yet no steps were taken to bring them to a close. This strange pro- crastination has been generally ascribed to jealousy or in- difference on the part of Spain ; but Nelli, one of Galileo's biographers, declares, on the authority of Flo- rentine records, that Cosmo had privately requested from the government the privilege of sending annually to the Spanish Indies two Leghorn merchantmen free of duty, as a compensation for the loss of Galileo !
The failure of this negotiation must have been a
source of extreme mortification to the high spirit and
sanguine temperament of Galileo. He had calculated,,
however, too securely on his means of putting the new
D 2
36 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
method to a successful trial. The great imperfection of the time-keepers of that day, and the want of proper telescopes, would have baffled him in all his efforts, and he would have been subject to a more serious mortifi- cation from the failure and rejection of his plan, than that which he actually experienced from the avarice of his patron, or the indifference of Spain. Even in the present day, no telescope has been invented which is capable of observing at sea the eclipses of Jupiter's satellites ; and though this method of finding the longi- tude has great advantages on shore, yet it has been com- pletely abandoned at sea, and superseded by easier and more correct methods.
In the year 1618, when no fewer than three comets visited our system, and attracted the attention of all the astronomers of Europe, Galileo was unfortunately con- fined to his bed by a severe illness; but, though he was unable to make a single observation upon these re- markable bodies, he contrived to involve himself in the controversies which they occasioned. Marco Guiducci, an astronomer of Florence, and a friend of Galileo's, had delivered a discourse on comets before the Florentine Academy, which was published in l6l9«* The heads of this discourse were supposed to have been communi- cated to him by Galileo, and this seems to have been universally admitted during the controversy to which it gave rise. The opinion maintained in this treatise, that comets are nothing but meteors which occasionally ap- pear in our atmosphere, like halos and rainbows, savours so little of the sagacity of Galileo that we should be dis- posed to question its paternity. His inability to partake in the general interest which these three comets excited, and to employ his powerful telescope in observing their phenomena and their movements, might have had some slight share in the formation of an opinion which de- prived them of their importance as celestial bodies. But, however this may have been, the treatise of Guiducci
* Printed in the Opere di Galileo, voL vi. pp. 117—191.
GALILEO. 37
afforded a favourable point of attack to Galileo's ene- mies, and the dangerous task was entrusted to Oratio Grassi, a learned Jesuit, who, in a work entitled The Astronomical and Philosophical Balance, criticised the discourse on comets, under the feigned name of Lotario Sarsi.
Galileo replied to this attack in a volume entitled // Saggiatore, or The Assayer, which, owing to the state of his health, was not published till the autumn of 1623.* This work was written in the form of a letter to Virginio Caesarini, a member of the Lyncaean Aca- demy, and master of the chamber to Urban VHI.t, who had just ascended the pontifical throne. It has been long celebrated among literary men for the beauty of its language, though it is doubtless one of the least important of Galileo's writings.
The succession of the cardinal Maffeo Barberini to the papal throne, under the name of Urban VIII., was hailed by Galileo and his friends as an event favourable to the promotion of science. Urban had not only been the personal friend of Galileo and of prince Cesi, the founder of the Lyncaean Academy, but had been in- timately connected with that able and liberal association ; and it was, therefore, deemed prudent to secure his favour and attachment. If Paul III. had, nearly a century before, patronised Copernicus, and accepted of the dedication of his great work, it was not unreasonable to expect that, in more enlightened times, another pon- tiff might exhibit the same liberality to science.
The plan of securing to Galileo the patronage of Urban VIII. seems to have been devised by prince Cesi. Although Galileo had not been able for some years to travel, excepting in a litter, yet he was urged by the prince to perform a journey to Rome, for the express
* Printed in the Opere di Galileo, vol. vi. pp. 191 — 571.
f Tills work is said to have been dedicated to Urban VIIL himself (Lib. U. Knowledge, Life of Galileo, chap, vii.), but there is no dedication urefixed to the edition we have referred to ; and it is, besides, unusual to dedicate a volume to any person when that volume ha* the form of a letter to another
D 3
38 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
purpose of congratulating his friend upon his elevation to the papal chair. This request was made in October., 1623 ; and, though Galileo's health was not such as to authorise him to undergo so much fatigue, yet he felt the importance of the advice ; and, after visiting Cesi at Acqua Sparta, he arrived at Rome in the spring of l624. The reception which he here experienced far exceeded his most sanguine expectations. During the two months which he spent in the capital he was permitted to have no fewer than six long and gratifying audiences of the pope. The kindness of his holiness was of the most marked description. He not only loaded Galileo with presents *, and promised him a pension for his son Vincenzo, but he wrote a letter to Ferdinand, who had just succeeded Cosmo as grand duke of Tuscany, recommending Galileo to his particular patronage. (f For we find in him," says he, fe not only literary distinction, but the love of piety; and he is strong in those qualities by which pontifical good- will is easily obtained. And now, when he kas been brought to this city to con- gratulate us on our elevation, we have very lovingly embraced him ; nor can we suffer him to return to the country whither your liberality recalls him, without an ample provision of pontifical love. And that you may know how dear he is to us, we have willed to give him this honourable testimonial of virtue and piety. And we further signify, that every benefit which you shall confer upon him, imitating or even surpassing your father's liberality, will conduce to our gratification."
Not content with thus securing the friendship of the pope, Galileo endeavoured to bespeak the good-will of the cardinals towards the Copermcan system. He had, accordingly, many interviews with several of these dig- nitaries ; and he was assured, by cardinal Hohenzoller, that in a representation which he had made to the pope on the subject of Copernicus, he stated to his holiness, <e that as all the heretics considered that system as un-
* A fine painting in gold, and a silver medal, and " a good quantity of agnus del"
GALILEO. S9
doubted, it would be necessary to be very circumspect in coming to any resolution on the subject." To this remark his holiness replied, — ffl*that the church had not condemned this system ; and that it should not be con- demned as heretical, but only as rash ; " and he added, " that there was no fear of any person undertaking to prove that it must necessarily be true."
The recent appointment of the abbe Castelli, the friend and pupil of Galileo, to be mathematician to the pope, was an event of a most gratifying nature ; and when we recollect that it was to Castelli that he ad- dressed the famous letter which was pronounced he- retical by the inquisition, we must regard it also as an event indicative of a new and favourable feeling towards the friends of science. The opinions of Urban, indeed, had suffered no change. He was one of the few car- dinals who had opposed the inquisitorial decree of I6l6, and his subsequent demeanour was in every re- spect conformable to the liberality of his early views. The sincerity of his conduct was still further evinced by the grant of a pension of one hundred crowns to Galileo, a few years after his visit to Rome ; but there is reason to think that this allowance was not regularly paid.
The death of Cosmo, whose liberality had given him both affluence and leisure, threatened Galileo with pe- cuniary difficulties. He had been involved in a fe great load of debt," owing to the circumstances of his brother's family ; and, in order to relieve himself, he had re- quested Castelli to dispose of the pension of his son Vincenzo : but he was now alarmed at the prospect of losing his salary as an extraordinary professor at Pisa. The great youth of Ferdinand, who was scarcely of age, induced Galileo's enemies, in 1629, to raise doubts re- specting the payment of a salary to a professor who neither resided nor lectured in the university ; but the question was decided in his favour, and we have no doubt that the decision was facilitated by the friendly u 4
40 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
recommendation of the pope, to which we have already referred.
Although Galileo had made a narrow escape from the grasp of the inquisition, yet he was never sufficiently sensible of the lenity which he experienced. When he left Rome in ]6l6, under the solemn pledge of never again teaching the ohnoxious doctrine, it was with an hostility against the church, suppressed but. deeply cherished ; and his resolution to propagate the heresy seems to have been coeval with the vow by which he renounced it. In the year 1618, when he communi- cated his theory of the tides to the archduke Leopold, he alludes in the most sarcastic manner to the conduct of the church. The same hostile tone, more or less, pervaded all his writings, and, while he laboured to sharpen the edge of his satire, he endeavoured to guard himself against its effects, by an affectation of the hum- blest deference to the decisions of theology. Had Ga- lileo stood alone, his devotion to science might have withdrawn him from so hopeless a contest ; but he was spurred on by the violence of a party. The Lyncaean Academy never scrupled to summon him from his re- searches. They placed him in the forlorn hope of their combat, and he at last fell a victim to the rashness of his adventure.
But, whatever allowance we may make for the ardour of Galileo's temper, and the peculiarity of his position ; and however we may justify and even approve of his past conduct, his visit to Urban VIII. in 1624-, placed him in a new relation to the church, which demanded on his part a new and corresponding demeanour. The noble and generous reception which he met with from Urban, and the liberal declaration of cardinal Hohen- zoller on the subject of the Copernican system, should have been regarded as expressions of regret for the past, and offers of conciliation for the future. Thus honoured by the head of the church, and befriended by its dig- nitaries, Galileo must have felt himself secure against the indignity of its lesser functionaries, and in the pos-
GALILEO. 41
session of the fullest licence to prosecute his researches and publish his discoveries, provided he avoided that dogma of the church which, even in the present day, it has not ventured to renounce. But Galileo was bound to the Romish hierarchy by even stronger ties. His son and himself were pensioners of the church, and, having accepted of its alms, they owed to -it, at least, a decent and respectful allegiance. The pension thus given by Urban was not a remuneration which sovereigns some- times award to the services of their subjects. Galileo was a foreigner at Rome. The sovereign of the papal state owed him no obligation ; and hence we must re- gard the pension of Galileo as a donation from the Ro- man pontiff to science itself, and as a declaration to the Christian world, that religion was not jealous of phi- losophy, and that the church of Rome was willing to respect and foster even the genius of its enemies.
Galileo viewed all these circumstances in a different light. He resolved to compose a work in which the Copernican system should be demonstrated ; but he had not the courage to do this in a direct and open manner, He adopted the plan of discussing the subject in a dia- logue between three speakers, in the hope of eluding by this artifice the censure of the church. This work was completed in 1630, but, owing to some difficulties in obtaining a licence to print it, it was not published till 1632.
In obtaining this licence, Galileo exhibited consider- able address, and his memory has not escaped from the imputation of having acted unfairly, and of having involved his personal friends in the consequences of his imprudence.
The situation of master of the palace was, fortunately for Galileo's designs, filled by Nicolo Riccardi, a friend and pupil of his own. This officer was a sort of censor of new publications, and when he was applied to on the subject of printing his work, Galileo soon found that attempts had previously been made to thwart his views. He instantly set off for Jlome, and had an interview
4)2 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
with his friend, who was in every respect anxious to oblige him. Riccardi examined the manuscript, pointed out some incautious expressions which he considered it necessary to erase, and returned it with his written ap- probation, on the understanding that the alterations he suggested would be made. Dreading to remain in Rome during the unhealthy season, which was fast ap- proaching, Galileo returned to Florence, with the in- tention of completing the index and dedication, and of sending the MS. to Rome, to be printed under the care of prince Cesi. The death of that distinguished indi- vidual, in August 1630, frustrated Galileo's plan, and he applied for leave to have the book printed in Florence. Riccardi was at first desirous to examine the MS. again, but after inspecting only the beginning and the end of it, he gave Galileo leave to print it wherever he chose, providing it bore the licence of the inquisitor-general of Florence, and one or two other persons whom he named. Having overcome all these difficulties, Galileo's work was published in 1 632, under the title of " The System of the World of Galileo Galilei, &c., in which, in four dialogues concerning the two principal systems of the World, — the Ptolemaic and the Copernican, — he dis- cusses, indeterminately and firmly, the arguments proposed on both sides." It is dedicated to Ferdinand, grand duke of Tuscany, and is prefaced by an " Address to the pru- dent reader," which is itself characterised by the utmost imprudence. He refers to the decree of the inquisition in the most insulting and ironical language. He at- tributes it to passion and to ignorance, not by direct assertion, but by insinuations ascribed to others ; and he announces his intention to defend the Copernican sys- tem, as a pure mathematical hypothesis, and not as an opinion, having an advantage over that of the stability of the earth absolutely. The dialogue is conducted by three persons, Salviati, Sagredo, and Simplicio. Sal- viati, who is the true philosopher in the dialogue, was the real name of a nobleman whom we have already had occasion to mention. Sagredo, the name of another noble
GALILEO. 43
friend of Galileo's, performs a secondary part under Salviati. He proposes doubts, suggests difficulties, and enlivens the gravity of the dialogue with his wit and pleasantry. Simplicio is a resolute follower of Ptolemy and Aristotle, and with a proper degree of candour and modesty, he brings forward all the common arguments in favour of the Ptolemaic system. Between the wit of Sagredo, and the powerful philosophy of Salviati, the peripatetic sage is baffled in every discussion ; and there can be no doubt that Galileo aimed a more fatal blow at the Ptolemaic system by this mode of discussing it, than if he had endeavoured to overturn it by direct argu- ments.
The influence of this work on the public mind was such as might have been anticipated. The obnoxious doctrines which it upheld were eagerly received, and widely disseminated; and the church of Rome became sensible of the shock which was thus given to its intel- lectual supremacy. Pope Urban VI 1 1 ., attached though he had been to Galileo, never once hesitated respecting the line of conduct which he felt himself bound to pursue. His mind was, nevertheless, agitated with conflicting sentiments. He entertained a sincere affection for science and literature, and yet he was placed in the position of their enemy. He had been the personal friend of Galileo, and yet his duty compelled him to become his accuser. Embarrassing as these feelings were, other considerations contributed to soothe him. He had, in his capacity of a cardinal, opposed the first persecution of Galileo. He had, since his elevation to the pontificate, traced an open path for the march of Galileo's discoveries ; and he had finally endeavoured to bind the recusant philosopher by the chains of kindness and gratitude. All these means, however, had proved abortive, and he was now called upon to support the doctrine which he had subscribed, and administer the law of which he was the guardian.
It has been supposed, without any satisfactory evi- dence, that Urban may have been influenced by less creditable motives. Salviati and Sagredo being well-
44 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
known personages, it was inferred, that Simplicio must also have a representative. The enemies of Galileo are said to have convinced his holiness that Simplicio was intended as a portraiture of himself; and this opinion received some probability from the fact, that the peri- patetic disputant had employed many of the arguments which Urban had himself used in his discussions with Galileo. The latest biographer of Galileo* regards this motive as necessary to account for " the otherwise inexplicable change which took place in the conduct of Urban to his old friend ; " — but we cannot admit for a moment the truth of this supposition. The church had been placed in hostility to a powerful and liberal party, which was adverse to its interests. The dogmas of the Catholic faith had been brought into direct collision with the deductions of science. The leader of the philosophic band had broken the most solemn armistice with the inquisition : he had renounced the ties of gratitude which bound him to the pontiff; and Urban was thus compelled to entrench himself in a position to which he had been driven by his opponents.
The design of summoning Galileo before the inqui- sition, seems to have been formed almost immediately after the publication of his book ; for even in August, 1 632, the preliminary proceedings had reached the ears of the grand duke Ferdinand. The Tuscan ambassa- dor at Rome was speedily acquainted with the dissatis- faction which his sovereign felt at these proceedings ; and he was instructed to forward to Florence a written statement of the charges against Galileo, in order to enable him to prepare for his defence. Although this request was denied, Ferdinand again interposed ; and transmitted a letter t<5 his ambassador, recommending the admission of Campanella and Castelli into the con- gregation of ecclesiastics by which Galileo was to be judged. Circumstances, however, rendered it prudent to withhold this letter. Castelli was sent away from Rome, and Scipio Chiaramonte, a bigotted ecclesiastic, » Library of Useful Knowledge, Life of Galileo, chap. viii.
GALILEO. 45
was summoned from Pisa to complete the number of the judges.
It appears from a despatch of the Tuscan minister, that Ferdinand was enraged at the transaction ; and he instructed his ambassador, Niccolini, to make the strongest representations to the pope. Niccolini had several interviews with his holiness ; but all his expos- tulations were fruitless. He found Urban highly in- censed against Galileo ; and his holiness begged Niccolini to advise the archduke not to interfere any farther, as he would not ' { get through it with honour." On the 15th of September the pope caused it to be intimated to Niccolini, as a mark of his especial esteem for the grand duke, that he was obliged to refer the work to the inquisition ; but both the prince and his ambassador were declared liable to the usual censures if they divulged the secret.
From the measures which this tribunal had formerly pursued, it was not difficult to foresee the result of their present deliberations. They summoned Galileo to ap- pear before them at Rome, to answer in person the charges under which he lay. The Tuscan ambassador expostulated warmly with the court of Rome on the inhumanity of this proceeding. He urged his ad- vanced age, his infirm health, the discomforts of the journey, and the miseries of the quarantine *, as mo- tives for reconsidering their decision: but the pope was inexorable ; and though it was agreed to relax the quarantine as much as possible in his favour, yet it was declared indispensable that he should appear in person before the inquisition.
Worn out with age and infirmities, and exhausted with the fatigues of his journey, Galileo arrived at Rome on the 14th of February, 1633. The Tuscan ambassador announced his arrival in an official form to the commissary of the holy office, and Galileo awaited in calm dignity the approach of his trial. Among
* The communication between Florence and Rome was at this time in- terrupted by a contagious disease which had broken out in Tuscany.
46 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
those who proffered their advice in this distressing emergency, we must enumerate the cardinal Barberino, the pope's nephew, who, though he may have felt the necessity of an interference on the part of the church, was yet desirous that it should be effected with the least injury to Galileo and to science. He accordingly visited Galileo, and advised him to remain as much at home as possible, to keep aloof from general society, and to see only his most intimate friends. The same advice was given from different quarters ; and Galileo felt its propriety, and remained in strict seclusion in the palace of the Tuscan ambassador.
During the whole of the trial which now com- menced, Galileo was treated with the most marked in- dulgence. Abhorring, as we must do, the principles and practice of this odious tribunal, and reprobating its interference with the cautious deductions of science, we must yet admit that, on this occasion, its deliberations were not dictated by passion, nor its power directed by vengeance. Though placed at their judgment-seat as a heretic, Galileo stood there with the recognised attributes of a sage ; and though an offender against the laws of which they were the guardian, yet the highest respect was yielded to his genius, and the kindest commisera- tion to his infirmities.
In the beginning of April, when his examination in person was to commence, it became necessary that he should be removed to the holy office ; but instead of committing him, as was the practice, to solitary con- finement, he was provided with apartments in the house of the fiscal of the inquisition. His table was provided by the Tuscan ambassador, and his servant was allowed to attend him at his pleasure, and to sleep in an adjoining apartment. Even this nominal con- finement, however, Galileo's high spirit was unable to brook. An attack of the disease to which he was con- stitutionally subject contributed to fret and irritate him, and he became impatient for a release from his anxiety as well as from his bondage. Cardinal Barberino
GALILEO. 47
seems to have received notice of the state of Galileo's feelings j and with a magnanimity which posterity will ever honour, he liberated Galileo on his own responsi- bility ; and in ten days after his first examination, and on the last day of April, he was restored to the hospi- table roof of the Tuscan ambassador.
Though this favour was granted on the condition of his remaining hi strict seclusion, Galileo recovered his health, and to a certain degree his usual hilarity, amid the kind attentions of Niccolini and his family ; and when the want of exercise had begun to produce symptoms of indisposition, Niccolini obtained for him leave to go into the public gardens in a half-closed carriage.
After the inquisition had examined Galileo per- sonally, they allowed him a reasonable time for preparing his defence. He felt the difficulty of adducing any thing like a plausible justification of his conduct ; and he resorted to an ingenious, though a shallow artifice, which was regarded by the court as an aggravation of the crime. After his first appearance before the inqui- sition in l6l6, he was publicly and falsely charged by his enemies with having then abjured his opinions; and he was taunted as a criminal who had been actually punished for his offences. As a refutation of these calumnies, Cardinal Bellarmine had given him a certifi- cate in his own handwriting, declaring that he neither abjured his opinions, nor suffered punishment for them j and that the doctrine of the earth's motion, and the sun's stability, was only denounced to him as contrary to scripture, and as one which could not be defended. To this certificate the cardinal did not add, because he was not called upon to do it, that Galileo was enjoined not to teach in any manner the doctrine thus denounced ; and Galileo ingeniously avails himself of this supposed omission, to account for his having, in the lapse of fourteen or sixteen years, forgotten the injunction. He assigned the same excuse for his having omitted to mention this injunction to Riccardi, and to the inquisi-
48 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
tor-general at Florence, when he obtained the licence to print his dialogues. The court held the production of this certificate to be at once a proof and an aggravation of his offence ; because the certificate itself declared that the obnoxious doctrines had been pronounced con- trary to the Holy Scriptures.
Having duly weighed the confessions and excuses of their prisoner, and considered the general merits of the case, the inquisition came to an agreement upon the sentence which they were to pronounce, and appointed the 22 d of June as the day on which it was to be deli- vered. Two days previous to this, Galileo was sum- moned to appear at the holy office ; and on the morning of the 21st, he obeyed the summons. On the 22d of June he was clothed in a penitential dress, and con- ducted to the convent of Minerva, where the inquisition was assembled to give judgment. A long and elaborate sentence was pronounced, detailing the former proceed- ings of the inquisition, and specifying the offences which he had committed in teaching heretical doctrines, in violating his former pledges, and in obtaining by improper means a licence for the printing of his Dia- logues. After an invocation of the name of our Saviour, and of the Holy Virgin, Galileo is declared to have brought himself under strong suspicions of heresy, and to have incurred all the censures and penalties which are enjoined against delinquents of this kind ; but from all these consequences he is to be held ab- solved, provided that with a sincere heart, and a faith unfeigned, he abjures and curses the heresies he has cherished, as well as every other heresy against the Catholic church. In order that his offence might not go altogether unpunished, that he might be more cau- tious in future, and be a warning to others to abstain from similar delinquencies, it was also decreed that his Dialogues should be prohibited by public edict ; that he himself should be condemned to the prison of the in- quisition during their pleasure, and that during the next
GALILEO. 49
three years he should recite once a week the seven penitential psalms.
The ceremony of Galileo's ahjuration was one of exciting interest, and of awful formality. Clothed in the^ sackcloth of a repentant criminal, the venerable sage fell upon his knees before the assembled cardinals ; and laying his hands upon the Holy Evangelists, he invoked the divine aid in abjuring and detesting, and vowing never again to te^ch, the doctrine of the earth's motion, and of the sun's stability. He pledged himself that he would never again, either in words or in writing, propa- gate such heresies ; and he swore that he would fulfil and observe the penances which had been inflicted upon him.* At the conclusion of this ceremony, in which he recited his abjuration word for word, and then signed it, he was conveyed, in conformity with his sen- tence, to the prison of the inquisition.
The account which we have now given of the trial and the sentence of Galileo, is pregnant with the deepest interest and instruction. Human nature is here drawn in its darkest colouring ; and in surveying the melan- choly picture, it is difficult to decide whether religion or philosophy has been most degraded. While we witness the presumptuous priest pronouncing infallible the decrees of his own erring judgment, we see the high-minded philosopher abjuring the eternal and im- mutable truths which he had himself the glory of establishing. In the ignorance and prejudices of the age, — in a too literal interpretation of the language of Scripture, — in a, mistaken respect for the errors that had become venerable from their antiquity, — and in the peculiar position which Galileo had taken among the avowed enemies of the church, we may find the ele- ments of an apology, however poor it may be, for the conduct of the inquisition. But what excuse can we
* It has been said, but upon what authority we cannot find, that when Galileo rose from his knees, he stamped on the ground, and &aid in a whisper to one of his friends, " Epur si muove." " It does move, though." —Life of Galileo, Lib. Use. Knowledge, part ii. p. 63. VOL. ii. JB
50 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
devise for the humiliating confession and abjuration of Galileo ? Why did this master-spirit of the age — this high-priest of the stars — this representative of science — this hoary sage,, whose career of glory was near its consummation, — why did he reject the crown of martyrdom which he had himself coveted, and which, plaited with immortal laurels, was about to descend Upon his head ? If, in place of disavowing the laws of nature, and surrendering in his own person the intellec- tual dignity of his species, he had boldly owned the truth of his opinions, and confided his character to posterity, and his cause to an all-ruling Providence, he would have strung up the hair-suspended sabre, and disarmed for ever the hostility which threatened to overwhelm him. The philosopher, however, was sup- ported only by philosophy ; and in the love of truth he found a miserable substitute for the hopes of the martyr. Galileo cowered under the fear of man, and his submis- sion was the salvation of the church. The sword of the inquisition descended on his prostrate neck ; and though its stroke was not physical, yet it fell with a moral influence fatal to the character of its victim, and to the dignity of science.
In studying with attention this portion of scientific history, the reader will not fail to perceive that the church of Rome was driven into a dilemma from which the submission and abjuration of Galileo could alone extricate it. He who confesses a crime and denounces its atrocity, not only sanctions but inflicts the punish- ment which is annexed to it. If Galileo had declared his innocence, and avowed his sentiments ; and if he had appealed to the past conduct of the church itself, to the acknowledged opinions of its dignitaries, and even to the acts of its pontiffs, he would have at once con- founded his accusers, and escaped from their toils. After Copernicus, himself a catholic priest, had openly main- tained the motion of the earth, and the stability of the sun : after he had dedicated the work which advocated these opinions to pope Paul HI., on the express ground
GALILEO. 51
that the authority of the pontiff might silence the ca- lumnies of those who attacked these opinions by argu- ments drawn from Scripture : after the cardinal Schon- herg and the bishop of Culm had urged Copernicus to publish the new doctrines ; and after the bishop of Ermeland had erected a monument to commemorate his great discoveries ; how could the church of Rome have appealed to its pontifical decrees as the ground of per- secuting and punishing Galileo ? Even in later times, the same doctrines had been propagated with entire toleration ; nay, in the very year of Galileo's first per- secution, Paul Anthony Foscarinus, a learned Carmelite monk, wrote a pamphlet, in which he illustrates and defends the mobility of the earth, and endeavours to re- concile to this new doctrine the passages of Scripture which had been employed to subvert it. This very singular production was dated from the Carmelite con- vent at Naples ; was dedicated to the very reverend Sebastian Fantoni, general of the Carmelite order ; and, sanctioned by the ecclesiastical authorities, it was pub- lished at Florence, three years before the second perse- cution of Galileo.
By these acts, tolerated for more than a century, the decrees of the pontiffs against the doctrine of the earth's motion were virtually repealed; and Galileo might have pleaded them with success in arrest of judgment. Un- fortunately, however, for himself and for science, he acted otherwise. By admitting their authority, he re- vived in fresh force these obsolete and obnoxious enact- ments ; and, by yielding to their power, he riveted for another century the almost broken chains of spiritual despotism.
Pope Urban VII. did not fail to observe the full ex- tent of his triumph ; and he exhibited the utmost sa- gacity in the means which he employed to ^cure it. While he endeavoured to overawe the enemies of the church by the formal promulgation of Galileo's sen- tence and abjuration, and by punishing the officials who had assisted in obtaining the licence to print his work, E 2
52 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
he treated Galileo with the utmost lenity, and yielded to every request that was made to diminish, and almost to suspend, the constraint under which he lay. The sentence of abjuration was ordered to be publicly read at several universities. At Florence the ceremonial was performed in the church of Santa Croce, and the friends and disciples of Galileo were especially summoned to witness the public degradation of their master. The inquisitor at Florence was ordered to be reprimanded for his conduct ; and Riccardi, the master of the sacred palace, and Ciampoli, the secretary of pope Urban him- self, were dismissed from their situations.
Galileo had remained only four days in the prison of the inquisition, when, on the application of Niccolini,the Tuscan ambassador, he was allowed to reside with him in his palace. As Florence still suffered under the con- tagious disease which we have already mentioned, it was proposed that Sienna should be the place of Galileo's con- finement, and that his residence should be in one of the convents of that city. Niccolini, however, recommended the palace of the archbishop Piccoldmoni as a more suitable residence ; and though the archbishop was one of Galileo's best friends, the pope agreed to the arrange- ment, and in the beginning of July Galileo quitted Rome for Sienna.
After having spent nearly six months under the hospitable roof of his friend, with no other restraint than that of being confined to the limits of the palace, Galileo was permitted to return to his villa near Florence under the same restrictions; and as the contagious disease had disappeared in Tuscany, he was able in the month of December to re-enter his own house at Arcetri, where he spent the remainder of his days.
Although Galileo had now the happiness of rejoining his family vjider their paternal roof, yet, like all sub- lunary blessings, it was but of short duration. His favourite daughter Maria, who along with her sister had joined the convent of St. Matthew in the neighbourhood of Arcetri, had looked forward to the arrival of her
GALILEO. 53
father with the most affectionate anticipation : she hoped that her filial devotion might form some compensation 'for the malignity of his enemies ; and she eagerly as- sumed the labour of reciting weekly the seven peni- tentiary psalms which formed part of her father's sentence. These sacred duties, however, were destined to terminate almost at the moment they were begun. She was seized with a fatal illness in the same month in which she rejoined her parent, and before the month of April she was no more. This heavy blow, so suddenly struck, overwhelmed Galileo in the deepest agony. Owing to the decline of his health, and the recurrence of his old complaints, he was unable to oppose to this mental suffering the constitutional energy of his mind. The bulwarks of his heart broke down, and a flood of grief desolated his manly and powerful mind. He felt, as he expressed it, that he was incessantly called by his daughter, — his pulse intermitted, — his heart was agi- tated with unceasing palpitations, — his appetite entirely left him, and he considered his dissolution so near at hand, that he would not permit his son Vicenzo to set out upon a journey which he had contemplated.
From this state of melancholy and indisposition, Galileo slowly, though partially, recovered ; and, with the view of obtaining medical assistance, he requested leave to go to Florence. His enemies, however, refused this application, and he was given to understand that any additional importunities would be visited with a more vigilant surveillance. He remained, therefore, five years at Arcetri, from l634t to l6S8, without any remission of his confinement, and pursuing his studies under the influence of a continued and general indisposition.
There is no reason to think that Galileo or his friends renewed their application to the church of Rome ; but, in 163 8, the pope transmitted, through the inquisitor Fariano, his permission that he might remove to Florence for the recovery of his health, on the condition that he should present himself at the office of the inquisitor to learn the terms upon which this indulgence was granted. E 3
54f LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
Galileo accepted of the kindness thus unexpectedly proffered ; but the conditions upon which it was given were more severe than he expected : he was prohibited from leaving his house, or admitting his friends ; and so sternly was this system pursued, that he required a special order for attending mass during Passion week.
The severity of this order was keenly felt by Galileo. While he remained at Arcetri, his seclusion from the world would have been an object of choice,, if it had not been the decree of a tribunal ; but to be debarred from the conversation of his friends in Florence, — in that city where his genius had been idolised, and where his fame had become immortal, was an aggravation of punishment which he was unable to bear. With his accustomed kindness, the grand duke made a strong representation, on the subject to his ambassador at the court of Rome. He stated that, from his great age and infirmities, Galileo's career was near its close ; that he possessed many valuable ideas, which the world might lose if they were not matured and conveyed to his friends; and that Galileo was anxious to make these commu- nications to father Castelli, who was then a stipendiary of the court of Rome. The grand duke commanded his ambassador to see Castelli on the subject ; to urge him to obtain leave from the pope to spend a few months in Florence, and to supply him with money, and every thing that was necessary for his journey. Influenced by this kind and liberal message, Castelli obtained an audience of the pope, and requested leave to pay a visit to Florence. Urban instantly suspected the object of his journey; and, upon Castelli's acknowledging that he could not possibly refrain from seeing Galileo^ he received permission to visit him in the company of an officer of the inquisition. Castelli accordingly went to Florence; and, a few months afterwards, Galileo was ordered to return to Arcetri.
During Galileo's confinement at Sienna and Arcetri, between 1633 and I&36, his time was principally oc- cupied in the composition of his " Dialogues on Local
GALILEO. 55
Motion." This remarkable work,, which was considered by its author as the best of his productions, was printed by Louis Elzevir, at Amsterdam, and dedicated to the count de Noailles, the French ambassador at Rome. Various attempts to have it printed in Germany had failed ; and, in order to save himself from the malignity of his enemies, he was obliged to pretend that the edition published in Holland had been printed from a MS. entrusted to the French ambassador.
Although Galileo had for a long time abandoned his astronomical studies, yet his attention was directed, about the year 1636, to a curious appearance in the lunar disc, which is known by the name of the moon's libration. When we examine with a telescope the out- line of the moon, we observe that certain parts of her disc, which are seen at one time, are invisible at another. This change or libration is of four different kinds ; viz. the diurnal libration, the libration in longitude, the libration in latitude, and the spheroidal libration. Galileo discovered the first of these kinds of libration, and ap- pears to have had some knowledge of the second ; but the third was discovered by Hevelius, and the fourth by Lagrange.*
This curious discovery was the result of the last telescopic observations of Galileo. Although his right eye had for some years lost its power, yet his general vision was sufficiently perfect to enable him to carry on his usual researches. In l6'36, however, this affection of his eye became more serious ; and, in l637} his left eye was attacked with the same disease. His medical friends at first supposed that cataracts were formed in the crystalline lens, and anticipated a cure from the operation of couching. These hopes were fallacious. The disease turned out to be in the cornea, and every attempt to restore its transparency was fruitless. In a few months the white cloud covered the whole aper- ture of the pupil, and Galileo became totally blind. This sudden and unexpected calamity had almost
* These phenomena are explained in the volume on " Astronomy." £ 4
56 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
overwhelmed Galileo and his friends. In writing to a correspondent he exclaims, " Alas ! your dear friend and servant has hecome totally and irreparably blind. These heavens,, this earth,, this universe, which by wonderful observation I had enlarged a thousand times beyond the belief of past ages, are henceforth shrunk into the narrow space which I myself occupy. So it pleases God ; it shall, therefore, please me also." His friend, father Castelli, deplores the calamity in the same tone of pathetic sublimity: — " The noblest eye," says he, ' ' which nature ever made, is darkened ; an eye so privileged, and gifted with such rare powers, that it may truly be said to have seen more than the eyes of all that are gone, and to have opened the eyes of all that are to come."
Although Galileo had been thwarted in his attempt to introduce into the Spanish marine his new method of finding the longitude at sea, yet he never lost sight of an object to which he attached the highest importance. As the formation of correct tables of the motion of Jupiter's satellites was a necessary preliminary to its introduction, he had occupied himself for twenty-four years in observations for this purpose, and he had made considerable progress in this laborious task. After the publication of his " Dialogues on Motion," in 1636, he renewed his attempts to bring his method into actual use. For this purpose he addressed himself to Lorenzo Real, who had been the Dutch governor-general in India, and offered the free use of his method to the states-general of Holland.* The Dutch government received this proposal with an anxious desire to have it carried into effect. At the instigation of Constantine
* It is a curious fact, that Morin had about this time proposed to deter- mine the longitude by the moon's distance from a fixed star, and that the commissioners assembled in Pari-s to examine it, requested Galileo's opi- nion of its value and practicability. Galileo's opinion was highly un- favourable. He saw clearly, and explained distinctly, the objection to Morin's method, arising from the imperfection of the lunar tables, and the inadequacy of astronomical instruments ; but he seemed not to be con- scious that the very same objections applied, with even greater force, to his own method, which has since been supplanted by that of the French sa- vant See Life of Galileo, Library of Useful Knowledge, p. y*.
GALILEO.. 57
Huygens, the father of the illustrious Huygens, and the secretary to the prince of Orange, they appointed com- missioners to communicate with Galileo; and while they transmitted him a gold chain as a mark of their esteem, they at the same time assured him, that if his plan should prove successful it should not pass unrewarded. The commissioners entered into an active correspond- ence with Galileo, and had even appointed one of their number to communicate personally with him in Italy. Lest this, however, should excite the jealousy of the court of Rome, Galileo objected to the arrangement, so that the negotiation was carried on solely by correspond- ence.
It was at this time that Galileo was struck with blindness. His friend and pupil, Renieri, undertook, in this emergency, to arrange and complete his observ- ations and calculations ; but before he had made much progress in the arduous task, each of the four commis- sioners died in succession, and it was with great difficulty that Constantine Huygens succeeded in renewing the scheme. It was again obstructed, however, by the death of Galileo ; and when Renieri was about to publish, by the order of the grand duke, the " Ephemeris," and " Tables of the Jovian Planets," he was attacked with a mortal disease, and the manuscripts of Galileo, which he was on the eve of publishing, were never more heard of. By such a series of misfortunes were the plans of Ga- lileo and of the states-general completely overthrown. It is some consolation, however, to know* that neither science nor navigation suffered any severe loss. Not- withstanding the perfection of our present tables of Jupiter's satellites, and of the astronomical instruments by which their eclipses may be observed, the method of Galileo is still impracticable at sea.
In consequence of the strict seclusion to which Gali- leo had been subjected, he was in the practice of dating his letters from his prison at Arcetri : but after he had lost the use of his eyes, the Inquisition seems to have relaxed its severity, and to have allowed him the freest
58 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
intercourse with his friends. The grand duke of Tus- cany paid him frequent visits; and among the celebrated strangers who came from distant lands to see the orna- ment of Italy, were Gassendi, Deodati, and our illus- trious countryman Milton. During the last three years of his life, his eminent pupil Viviani formed one of his family; and in October,, 1641, the celebrated Torri- celli, another of his pupils, was admitted to the same distinction.
Though the powerful mind of Galileo still retained its vigour, yet his debilitated frame was exhausted with mental labour. He often complained that his head was too busy for his body ; and the continuity of his studies was frequently broken with attacks of hypochondria, want of sleep, and acute rheumatic pains. Along with these calamities, he was afflicted with another still more severe — with deafness almost total ; but though he was now excluded from all communication with the external world, yet his mind still grappled with the material universe, and while he was studying the force of per- cussion, and preparing for a continuation of his " Dia- logues on Motion," he was attacked with fever and palpitation of the heart, which, after continuing two months, terminated fatally on the 8th of January, 1 642, in the 78th year of his age.
Having died in the character of a prisoner of the In- quisition, this odious tribunal disputed his right of making a will, and of being buried in consecrated ground. These objections, however, were withdrawn ; but though a large sum was subscribed for erecting a mo- nument to him in the church of Santa Croce, in Florence, the pope would not permit the design to be carried into execution. His sacred remains were, therefore, depo- sited in an obscure corner of the church, and remained for more than thirty years unmarked with any monumental tablet. The following epitaph, given without any re- mark in the Leyden edition of his Dialogues, is, we pre- sume, the one which was inscribed on a tablet in the church of Santa Croce : —
GALILEO. 59
GALILJEO GALIUBI Florentine, Philosopho et Geometrae vere lynceo,
Naturae CEdipo,
Mirabilium semper inventorum machinatori, Qui inconcessa adhuc mortalibus gloria
Caelorum provincias auxit
Et universe dedit incrementum :
Non enim vitreos spherarum orbes
Fragilesque Stellas conflavit :
Sed aeterna mundi corpora
Mediceae beneficentiae dedicavit,
Cujus inextincta gloriae cupiditas
Ut oculos nationum Saeculorumque omnium
Videre doceret,
Proprios impendit oculos.
Cum jam nil amplius haberet natura
Quod ipse videret.
Cujus inventa vix intra rerum limites comprehensa Firmamentum ipsum non solum continet,
Sed etiam recipit.
Qui relictis tot scientiarum monumentis Plura secum tulit, quam reliquit.
Gravi enim Sed nondum affecta senectute,
Novis contemplationibus Majorem gloriam affectans Inexplebilem sapientiae animam Immature nobis obitu
Exhalavit Anno Domini
At his death, in 1703, Viviani purchased his pro- perty, with the charge of erecting a monument over Galileo's remains and his own. This design was not carried into effect till 1737, at the expense of the family of Nelli, when hoth their bodies were disinterred, and removed to the site of the splendid monument which now covers them. This monument contains the bust of Galileo, with figures of Geometry and Astronomy. It was designed by Giulio Foggini. Galileo's bust was executed bv Giovanni Battista Foggini ; the figure of
6'0 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
Astronomy by Vincenzio Foggini, his son ; and that of Geometry by Girolamo Ticciati.
Galileo's house at Arcetri still remains. In 1821 it belonged to one Signor Alimari, having been preserved in the state in which it was left by Galileo ; it stands very near the convent of St. Matthew, and about a mile to the S. E. of Florence. An inscription by Nelli, over the dgor of the house, still remains.
The character of Galileo, whether we view him as a member of the social circle, or as a man of science, pre- sents many interesting and instructive points of content plation. Unfortunate, and to a certain extent immoral, in his domestic relations, he did not derive from that hallowed source all the enjoyments which it generally yields ; and it was owing to this cause, perhaps, that he was more fond of society than might have been expected from his studious habits. His habitual cheerfulness and gaiety, and his affability and frankness of manner, ren- dered him an universal favourite among his friends. "Without any of the pedantry of exclusive talent, and without any of that ostentation which often marks the man of limited though profound acquirements, Galileo never conversed upon scientific or philosophical subjects except among those who were capable of understanding them. The extent of his general information, indeed, his great literary knowledge, but, above all, his retentive memory, stored with the legends and the poetry of an- cient times, saved him from the necessity of drawing upon his own peculiar studies for the topics of his con- versation.
Galileo was not less distinguished for his hospitality and benevolence ; he was liberal to the poor, and gene- rous in the aid which he administered to men of genius and talent, who often found a comfortable asylum under his roof. In his domestic economy he was frugal without being parsimonious. His hospitable board was ever ready for the reception of his friends ; and, though he was himself abstemious in his diet, he seems to have been a lover of good wines, of which he received always
GALILEO. 61
the choicest varieties out of the grand duke's cellar. This peculiar taste, together with his attachment to a country life, rendered him fond of agricultural pursuits, and induced him to devote his leisure hours to the cul- tivation of his vine.yards.
In his personal appearance Galileo was about the middle size, and of a square-built, but well-proportioned, frame. His complexion was fair, his eyes penetrating, and his hair of a reddish hue. His expression was cheerful and animated, and though his temper was easily ruffled, yet the excitement was transient, and the cause of it speedily forgotten.
One of the most prominent traits in the character of Galileo was his invincible love of truth, and his ab- horrence of that spiritual despotism which had so long brooded over Europe. His views, however, were too liberal, and too far in advance of the age which he adorn- ed ; and however much we may admire the noble spirit which he evinced, and the personal sacrifices which he made, in his struggle for truth, we must yet lament the hotness of his zeal and the temerity of his onset. In his contest with the church of Rome, he fell under her victorious banner ; and though his cause was that of truth, and hers that of superstition, yet the sympathy of Europe was not roused by his misfortunes. Under the sagacious and peaceful sway of Copernicus, astro- nomy had effected a glorious triumph over the dogmas of the church ; but under the bold and uncompromising sceptre of Galileo all her conquests were irrecoverably lost.
The scientific character of Galileo, and his method of investigating truth, demand our warmest admiration. The number and ingenuity of his inventions ; the bril- liant discoveries which he made in the heavens, and the depth and beauty of his researches respecting the laws of motion, have gained him the admiration of every succeeding age, and have placed him next to Newton in the lists of original and inventive genius. To this high rank he was doubtless elevated by the inductive
62 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
processes which he followed in all his inquiries. Under the sure guidance of observation and experiment, he advanced to general laws ; and if Bacon had never lived, the student of nature would have found, in the writings and labours of Galileo, not only the boasted principles of the inductive philosophy, but also their practical application to the highest efforts of invention and discovery.
GUICCIARDINI. 1482—1540.
GUICCIARDINI was the contemporary and intimate friend of Machiavelli, but their several careers bore small similitude ; for worldly prosperity attended the first, while the other was depressed by neglect and penury ; and while his intellect struggled with these chains, the nobler parts of his disposition yielded to them. Ma- chiavelli was a republican in principle, of humble for . tunes, and dependent on his friends for their favour and encouragement. Guicciardini was a courtier; he was the servant of a prince, not of a state ; in birth and position in life he had the advantage of his friend ; and these combining circumstances rendered him more con- fident in himself, while at the same time it inspired him with an avowed dislike for popular governments.
The Guicciardini formed one of the noblest families of Florence : it was of ancient origin, and possessed several magnificent mansions in Florence. One of the streets is named de' Guicciardini, from containing a palace belonging to them ; and they had large possessions in the Val di Pesa.
Francesco, the subject of this memoir, was the son of Piero de' Guicciardini, a celebrated advocate, and at one time commissary-general to the Florentine army. Fran- cesco was one of eight children. His mother was Simona. daughter of the cavaliere Bongiani Gianfigliazzi, a noble Florentine. He was born on the 6th of March, 1482.*
* It was a habit among the Florentines to keep memoranda of the prin- cipal events of their lives, which they called Ricordi. The-date of the birth of Guicciardini has been disputed, but it -is ascertained from a MS. book of his ricordi, or records, which Manni cites. He thus writes concerning bimself :— " I record that I, Francesco di Fiero Guicciardini, now doctor
64 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
He was educated with care by the best masters, and taught Greek and Latin. He applied himself, as he grew up,, to the study of logic and of civil law, as he was destined for the robe. He was sent to Ferrara by his father, not merely for the sake of attending the teachers there, but that his parent might have a place of refuge, where to send his property, in the event of civil disturbance or external attack upon Florence. Large sums of money were remitted to him, and he boasts of the trustworthiness of his conduct on this oc- casion, despite his extreme youth. It was in agitation at one time to make him a priest, as, through the interest of an uncle, who was rich in benefices, a prosperous career was opened to him in the church. He was him- self inclined towards the clerical profession, as one full of honour and dignity; but his father decided against it, and resolved that none of his five sons should enter the priesthood ; partly induced by the notion that the papal power was on the decline, and partly from a conscien- tious feeling of the impropriety of adopting the sacred calling, merely for the sake of temporal advantages. Instead, therefore, of assuming the sacerdotal garb, Fran- cesco took a doctor's degree in law, and at an early age was appointed by the government to read the Institute in the university of Florence. He married the following year. His wife was Maria, daughter of Alamanno di Averardo Salviati, one of the first men of the city. Several law offices were bestowed on him, and he prides himself at this success in early life. But he felt himself still more honoured, when he was sent by the republic as ambassador to Ferdinand, king of Aragon. Italy was then the arena on which the adverse powers of France, Germany, and Spain contended for mastery. Florence adhered to the French party, but the timid
of civil and canon law, was born on the 6th March, 1482, at ten o'clock. I was baptised Francesco, from Francesco de Nerli, my maternal grandfather, and Tommaso, out of respect for St. Thomas Aquinas, on whose festival I was born. Messer Marsiglio Ficino held me at the baptismal font, who was the greatest platonic philosopher then existing in the world, and by Gio» vanni (Canacci and Piero del Nero, both philosophers also.
<JUICCIARDINI» 65
gonfaloniere Soderini, desirous of currying favour on all sides, thought it right to preserve a good understanding with Ferdinand. Francesco, feeling his inexperience, shrunk from the responsibility of this mission, and did not accept i$, till his father added his commands to those of the state.
He remained two years at Burgos, in attendance on the Spanish court, conducting himself in such a way as to acquire the esteem of Ferdinand, who presented him with a number of silver vessels of great value on his departure. This was no good school for the acquirement of political integrity. The Italians were proverbially treacherous, but Ferdinand emulated them in the arts of deception. It is related of this monarch, that when he heard that Louis XII. complained of having been twice deceived by him, he exclaimed, (e The fool lies, I have tricked him above ten times."
Meanwhile the aspect of affairs changed at Florence. The French were driven from Italy, and the republic paid the penalty of the weak and disarmed neutrality which it had preserved, by being forced by the allied armies to receive back the exiled Medici. The conse- quence of this return was a change of government, from that of a free state, to subjection to the will of a single family. Guicciardini acted with a prudence that ac- quired for him the favour of the new rulers ; and, on his return from Spain, was received with every suitable mark of distinction. His joy, however, on returning to his native town, was clouded by the recent death of his father.
On the event of the visit of Leo X. to Florence, at- tended by a numerous retinue of cardinals, Guicciardini, who had lately filled the office of magistrate, was sent, with others, to receive the pope at Cortona. Leo was so struck by him, that the next day he named him his consistorial advocate, of his own accord, without solicit- ation: nor did his patronage stop here; he soon after took him entirely into his service, and finding that his prudence and sagacity were equal to the good opinion
VOL. II. F
66 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
he had formed of him, he made him governor of Reggio and Modena. He acquitted himself with great credit in this high office. Having been educated for the robe, instead of the career of arms, the enemies of the pope cherished the notion, that he might be surprised and frightened in his government; but his firmness and judgment disconcerted all their stratagems.
When Leo X. died, the merits of Guicciardini became yet more conspicuous. The papal power was very in- firmly established in Lombardy, and the duke of Ferrara, who claimed Modena and Reggio as his own, was on the alert to take advantage of the interval of weakness caused by a delay in the election of a new pope ; but Guicciardini foiled him in all his attempts. His most memorable action on this occasion was his defence of Parma. He relates it with conscious pride in his history. He had been sent by cardinal Julius de* Medici to defend Parma from an attack made by the French. Guicciardini's chief difficulty was, to inspire the citizens with resolution and martial enthusiasm. He convoked them together, distributed pikes among them, and causing the defenceless part of the town, on one side of the river, to be abandoned, made strenuous efforts to intrench the other. The enemy entered the deserted portion, and the people were eager to surrender. Guic- ciardini pointed out to them the fact, that the hostile forces were unprovided with artillery, and so succeeded in inspiring them with some degree of resolution: he led the attack himself, and the success that attended their sortie increasing their courage, the enemy was driven, off and the siege raised. Federigo da Bozzole, who commanded the attack, had made sure of success, and declared that he had been deceived in nothing during the expedition, except in the notion that a go- vernor, who was not a soldier, and who had newly come to the city, should carry on the defence at his own peril, when he might have saved himself without dishonour.
When cardinal Julius became pope, under the name of Clement VII., he showed his approbation of Guic-
GUICCIARDINI. 67
ciardini, by naming him president of Romagna, with greater powers than had been enjoyed by any pre- decessor in that office : thus, a large portion of Italy north of the Apennines was under his rule. It was a situation of honour, but attended with an equal portion of difficulty and labour, from the unsettled state of the country. Prudence and firmness, and even severity, were the characteristics of Guicciardini's administration ; he was unrelenting towards criminals, but at the same time became very popular, in Modena especially, by the attention he paid to the comfort and pleasures of the people, and die embellishments he bestowed on the city.
At this time the French were again, after the battle of Pavia, driven from Italy, and Clement VII., afraid of the overweening power of Charles V., formed a league against him. The duke of Urbino was chief over the army of the league, and Guicciardini was named lieu- tenant-general of the pontifical army in the ecclesiastical states. The choice that had been made of the duke of Urbino, as chief leader, was injudicious. He had been driven from his states by Leo X. ; Lorenzo de' Medici had been gifted with his duchy, and he naturally was inimical to his rival's family. His irresolute, shuffling conduct during the disastrous advance of die constable Bourbon on Rome, was doubtless a principal cause of the sack of that city. Guicciardini, as general of the papal army, exerted himself in vain to induce him to more energetic measures: instead of throwing himself before the advancing army of the imperialists, he slowly followed it. When Bourbon was in the neighbourhood of Arezzo, the duke of Urbino entered Florence.
The power of the Medici was odious in that city. A formidable party, whose watchword was liberty, regarded with triumph the dangers to which Clement VII. was exposed. A number of the younger nobility among them took occasion of the alarm excited, to seize on the palace of government. The duke of Urbino pre- pared to attack it, but first sent Federigo da Bozzole F 2
68 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
to treat with the party who held it. Full of enthusiasm and courage, the young men refused all terms, and Bozzole left them, enraged at their ohstinacy and their personal ill-treatment of himself. Guicciardini perceived the dangers that threatened his country. It was an easy task for the duke of Urbino to attack the palace of government, to destroy it and all those within ; hut an act of violence and bloodshed was to be avoided. Guic- ciardini hastened forward to meet Bozzole as he left the palace, and represented to him briefly how dis- pleasing such a contest would be to the pope, and how detrimental to the confederates ; and how much better it would be to calm, instead of exasperating, the mind of the duke of Urbino. Bozzole yielded., and gave hope to the duke that quiet might be restored without recourse being had to arms ; pacific means were in con- sequence resorted to, and the insurgents induced to quit the palace. Guicciardini relates this circumstance and his interference with pride, in the belief that he had done his country as well as the pope good service, but he adds, that he got no thanks from either side ; the Medici party accusing him of preferring the lives and safety of the citizens to the firm establishment of that family; while the other party declared that he had ex- aggerated their difficulties, and caused them needlessly to yield their advantages.
It had been well for the fame of Guicciardini, if he had submitted to the blame of his contemporaries, and secured the approbation of posterity, by adhering to a line of conduct so impartial and patriotic. .Although the fall of the Medici was suspended for a short time on this occasion, the taking of Rome decided their ex- pulsion. When the duke of Urbino went southward to deliver the pope, besieged in the Castel Sant' Angelo, the Florentines seized the opportunity to drive out the Medici, and to restore the freedom of their government. The wars carried on by Clement VII. had weighed heavily on the republic, since he drew from it his chief resources ; the people were thus exasperated against his
OUICCIARDINI. 6P
rule, and now that they possessed the power, displayed their hatred of his family by many acts of outrage. To have served them was to share their disgrace, and the odium with which they were regarded. J[t has been related how Machiavelli, republican as he was, and per- sonally attached to many of the leaders of the popular party, was unable to overcome the prejudice excited by his having entered the service of the Medici. Guic- ciardini was visited by more open marks of the dislike of the new leaders ; and he was the more angry because he had displayed a wish to join them. He neither loved nor esteemed Clement, whom he represents as timid, avari- cous, and ungracious. He regarded his imprisonment by the imperialists with very lukewarm interest, and even raised soldiers for the defence of Florence : but these de- monstrations did not avail to acquire for him the con- fidence of his countrymen, and he was forced to fly the town during a popular tumult. Hence seems to spring his hatred of free institutions, and his subsequent con- duct in aiding in the destruction of the liberties of his country. From this time he entered with all the zeal of personal resentment into the cause of the Medici. His name has thus received a taint never to be effaced. He became the abettor of tyrants, the oppressor of his fellow citizens ; and that equity and firmness which he before exercised, by establishing order in the districts over which he presided, were changed to the persecution of the martyrs of liberty.* It is impossible to slur over this portion of his life as he does himself. For it is remarkable that the only events recorded in his history, which are narrated in a slovenly and confused manner, are those in which he took a principal share, — the second restoration of the Medici, and the final overthrow of the liberties of Florence.
When a reconciliation had been patched up between Charles V. and Clement VII., the force of their united arms was turned against Florence. The republic was
* See a clever pamphlet, entitled " Saggio sulla Vita e sulle Opere di Francesco Guicciardini," by Rosini, a professor of the University of Pi«a,
p 3
70 LITER ARY AND SCIENTIFIC -MEN.
headed by gallant spirits, who, seeing their last hope of freedom in a successful resistance, exerted every nerve to defend themselves. They were willing to suffer any extremity, rather than submit to a slavery which must crush for ever the proud independence and free insti- tutions of their native city. Guicciardini had been named by the pope, governor of Bologna, and took no part in the war against his country ; but he is accused of par- ticipating in the iniquitous proceedings which followed the surrender of the city. The pope acted with the utmost treachery. He granted generous terms; but when in possession, held a mock assembly of the people, keeping off, by means of the troops he introduced, all the citizens, except those prepared to receive law at his hands. He thus, as it were, obtained a legal decree, which changed the form of government, and denounced its late leaders. Executions and confiscations became the order of the day; the chief power was placed in the hands of Vettori, Guicciardini, and two others, and their conduct entailed on them the execration of their fellow citizens.
So zealous did Guicciardini show himself, that the pope entrusted him with the office of reforming and re- stricting the list of candidates, who were selected to be members of government, and he displayed his prudence and sagacity for the reigning family at the expense of the lives and liberties of the most virtuous among his fellow citizens. Under his auspices, the office of gonfaloniere, which had subsisted for 250 years, was abolished, and Alessandro de' Medici was named duke, which title was to descend in perpetuity to his suc- cessors. This miserable man was the son of a negro woman, and regarded as the offspring of Lorenzo, the son of Piero de' Medici : but it was more probable that he owed his existence to Clement VII. ; at least the latter claimed the honour of paternity. His dis- graceful birth stamped him with contempt; his profligacy and cruelty acquired the hatred of the people over whom he ruled.
GUICCIAKD1NI. 71
Guicciardini endeavoured to restrain him in the in- dulgence of his vices, but without avail. He was now wholly devoted to his service. When Clement VII. died, his successor wished him to continue governor of Bologna, hut he refused. While the see was vacant, he had yielded to the entreaties of the senators, and re- mained to prevent popular disturbances. They pro- mised him every assistance to maintain his authority ; but his enemies took occasion to display their disrespect. Geronimo Pepoli, and others, who some years before had retired from Bologna in distaste, took this occasion to return, accompanied by armed followers and public bandits. Guicciardini's haughty spirit was in arms against the insult. Among the followers of Pepoli were two outlaws under sentence of death ; these he caused to be seized, led to prison, and put to death. Pepoli manifested the utmost indignation, and was only re- strained by the authority of the senators from giving public token of his resentment. When the new pope was elected, and another governor appointed, Guicciar- dini prepared to quit the city. Pepoli threatened to attack him on his departure; but he, undismayed, set out at noon-day, accompanied only by a few attendants on horseback. His road led him past the palace of the Pepoli, nor would he diverge from it on this account, but passed under their windows with a firm and in- trepid countenance, and was permitted to pursue his way unmolested.
He soon after displayed this energy and firmness of character in a very bad cause. The Florentines, unable any longer to endure the tyranny and vices of duke Alex- ' ander, appealed to Charles V., whom they regarded as lord paramount of their state. The emperor summoned Alexander to Naples, where he then was, to answer the charges made against him. He obeyed : but the em- peror was so incensed that he began to fear the result, and was on the point of retreating, had not Guicciardini exhorted him to remain. He drew up a defence for him, and by a judicious distribution of bribes, succeeded F 4
72 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
in obtaining his acquittal ; and Florence was again sub- Jiected to his yoke.
Two years after, Alexander was murdered by Loren- zirio de' Medici, who considered that he had a better right to be considered the head of the family. But this act, undertaken without the participation of any ac- complice, was not followed by the results that might have been anticipated. Lorenzino, frightened by his very suc- cess, fled the city, and his cousin Cosmo was raised to the supreme power, and afterwards named grand duke of Tuscany. Guicciardini assisted materially in his eleva- tion, and hoped to be real chief of the state, while the other held the nominal rank. But Cosmo was of a crafty, cold, and ungrateful disposition, and treated his benefactor with such neglect, that he withdrew himself from public life, and retired to his country seat at Montici, in the neighbourhood of Florence.
From this time he occupied himself wholly in the composition of his history. It is a fine monument of his genius and industry. It commences with the in- vasion of Italy by Charles VIII., and goes down to the exaltation of Cosmo. The fault attributed to him as an author is prolixity, and to this he must plead guilty. He dwells with the most tiresome and earnest minute- ness on the most trivial incidents ; and the taking of an insignificant castle, followed by no important results, is attended by the same diflfuseness and exactitude of de- tail as events of the greatest magnitude. But no his- torian surpasses Guicciardini when the subject is worthy of his pen. His animated descriptions of battles, the chances of war, and conduct of princes and leaders; his delineations of character, and masterly views of the course of events, all claim the highest admiration. The orations, which he intersperses, have been cavilled at, but they are eloquent? full of dignified exhortation, or sagacious reasoning. His account of the rise and formation of the temporal power of the popes excited great censure in catholic countries ; and throughout he is accused of showing himself the enemy of the Ro-
GUICCIABDINI. 73
man church. It is true, that the pages of no other his- torian afford such convincing proofs of the pernicious effects resulting from the union of spiritual supremacy and temporal possessions. His powerful character of the infamous pope Borgia ; his description of the fiery vehemence of Julius II. ; his unveiling of the faults of Leo X., and the exposure he makes of the mistakes and weakness of Clement VII., present the very men and times to our eyes, and form as it were a school in which to study the philosophy of history. We perceive no partiality till the last few pages, which record the downfall of the republic of Florence. His language is, in the eyes of Italian critics, nearly pure ; it is forcible, without being concise ; and the clearness and majesty of the expressions in his best passages carry the reader along with him.
Guicciardini was soli cited by pope Paul III. to leave his retreat, and to enter again on public life, but he re- fused. The disappointment of his ambitious views on the exaltation of Cosmo, and the duke's ingratitude, struck him to the heart. He did not live to complete his history, and died on the 2?th of May, 1540, in the fifty-eighth year of his age. He expressly ordered that his funeral should be unattended by any pomp ; and his directions were so strictly followed, that for some time no stone even commemorated the spot of his sepulture.
Little is known of his private life. His letters have all perished, except a few addressed to Machiavelli. They are lively in their style, and very friendly. He had no son, and seven daughters, and wrote to the secretary to ask his advice in settling them in marriage. Machiavelli advised his applying to the pope for a dowry ; counselling him by all means to marry the eldest well, as the others would follow her example ; and he quotes a passage from Dante, referring to a duke of Provence, " who had three daughters and each a queen. And the cause of this thing, was Romeo, a poor wandering man," who had advised the duke to be
74 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
unsparing in his dowry to his eldest daughter, so to command a splendid alliance, as the best means to advance her sisters also. He gave her half his duchy, and she married the king of France. Guicciardini in reply says, " You have set me on ransacking Romagna for a copy of Dante, and at last I have found one." But he was too high-spirited to apply for a gift from the pope.
Guicciardini was tall and of commanding aspect ; rather squarely made, and not handsome ; but robust, and with an animated, intelligent countenance. He was ambitious, and even haughty, so that he could endure neither con- tradiction nor advice. Prudence, industry, sagacity, and a penetrating understanding, recommended him to his employers ; and he was frequently entrusted with carrying on and correcting the correspondence of the pope and other princes.
The last six books of his history are considered unfinished. No portion of it was published till some years after his death, and then the passages considered injurious to papacy were omitted. A complete edition was first printed at Basle ; but, even in this, the ob- jectionable passages appeared under the disguise of Latin. His first idea had been to write only memoirs of his own life ; and it was by the advice of Nardi, it is said, that he enlarged his plan into a history of Italy during his own times.
75
VITTORIA COLONNA.
1490—1547.
IT would be giving a very faint idea of the state of Italian literature, or even of the lives led by the learned men of those times, if all mention were omitted of the women who distinguished themselves in literature. No slur was cast by the Italians on feminine accomplish- ments. Where abstruse learning was a fashion among men, they were glad to find in their friends of the other sex, minds educated to share their pursuits and applaud their success. In those days learning was a sort of wealth ; men got as much as they could, and women, of course, were led to acquire a portion of such a valu- able possession.
The list of women who aspired to literary fame in Italy is very long. Even in Petrarch's time, the daughter of a professor of Bologna, gave lectures in the university behind a veil, which has been supposed was used to hide her beauty, and which at least is a beautiful trait of modesty, where a young girl was willing to impart her knowledge to the studious, but shrunk from meeting the public gaze. The mother of Lorenzo de* Medici is celebrated for her sacred poems, and her patronage of literature. Ippolita Sforza, daughter of the duke Francesco, and married to Alfonso II., king of Naples, was learned in Greek and many other languages. A manuscript copy of a translation of Tully's de Senectute is preserved of hers at Rome, and marked as having been written in her youth ; and two of her Latin orations are to be seen in the Ambrosian Library at Milan. Alessandra Scala, to whom Politian was
76 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
attached, wrote Greek verses, which have been printed, appended to the Latin poetry of her learned lover. There was an Isotta of Padua, whose letters are models of elegance, and who composed various poems of merit. The noble house of Este boasted of a learned princess. Bianca d' Este has been celebrated by one of the Strozzi in Latin verses ; he speaks of her Greek and Latin compositions with great praise. Damigella Torella, we are told, was numbered among the most distinguished women of her time. She was profoundly versed in the learned languages, particularly in Greek ; she was an admirable musician, and as beautiful as she was wise. Cassandra Fedele, however, excelled all her sex in her acquirements. She was of a noble family, originally of Milan; born at Venice in 1465: she was, by her father's desire, instructed in all the abstruse studies — Greek, Latin, philosophy, and music — with such success, that even in girlhood she was the admiration of all the learned men_of the age. There is a letter from Politian to her, which praises her Latin letters, not only for their cleverness and elegance of style, but "for the girlish and maiden simplicity" which adorned them. f' I have read also," he says, " your learned and elo- quent oration, which is harmonious, dignified, and full of talent. I am told that you are versed in philosophy and dialectics, that you entangle others by the most serious difficulties, and make all plain yourself with ad- mirable ease ; and while every one loads you with praise, you are gentle and humble." This kind of knowledge would not suit these days : but those were times when men tried to puzzle themselves by scholastic learning, and when the noble Pico della Mirandola took pleasure in disputing on nine hundred questions. Isabella of Spain, Louis XII. of France, and pope Leo X. all warmly solicited Cassandra to take up her abode at their several courts. She showed willingness to accept the queen's invitation ; but the Venetian republic set so high a value upon her, that they would not permit her to leave their state. She married Mapelli, a physician,
VITTORIA COLONNA. 77
who was sent to Candia by the republic, and Cassandra accompanied him. She became a widow late in life, and lived to extreme old age. She was elected when ninety years old to be the superior of a religious house in Venice ; and died at the age of one hundred and two.
This list might easily be much enlarged ; but we have no space for further dilation ; and therefore turn from names less illustrious, to Vittoria Colonna, the -1 woman of all others who conferred, by her virtues, talents, and beauty, honour on her sex.
Vittoria Colonna was the daughter of Fabrizio Co. lonna, grand constable of the kingdom of Naples, and - of Anna di Montefeltro, daughter of Frederic duke of Urbino. She was born at Marino, a castle belonging to her family, about the year 1490. At the infantine age of four she was betrothed to Ferdinando Francesco d' Avolos, marquess of Pescara, who was not older than his baby bride. She was educated with the most sedu- lous care, and was sought in marriage by various princes — but that fidelity of disposition which was her beautiful characteristic through life, prevented her from breaking her contract with her young lover. They were married at the age of seventeen. He competed with » her in talents and accomplishments. They loved each other with the utmost tenderness, and lived for four years succeeding to their marriage, in solitude, in the island of Ischia, where Pescara had a palace.
But this happiness was of short duration ; at the time when Julius II. leagued all Italy against Louis J XII., the marquess of Pescara joined the army of the emperor. Vittoria was full of chivalric feelings ; her enthusiasm, as well as her tenderness, were gratified by the occupation of embroidering banners for her hero, who, at the early age of one-and-twenty, was made general of cavalry at the battle of Ravenna. That disastrous day was adverse to him. He was taken prisoner and sent to Milan, where he remained a year, ,J and wrote a dialogue on love, addressed to his wife, in a dedication in which he laments that he can no longer
78 LITERACY AND SCIENTIFIC BIEN.
visit her as he was used, whenever the duties of his station permitted his absence. As a kind of answer to this testimony of his affection, Vittoria designed an emblem — Cupid within a circle, formed by a serpent, with the motto " Quern peperit virtus, prudentia servet amorem" — " May prudence preserve the love, which originated in virtue."
After the French were driven from Italy, that un- J happy country enjoyed a short interval of peace, interrupted by the invasion of Francis I. Pescara was present at the battle of Pavia, and distinguished himself by his intrepidity, and mainly contributed to the success of the emperor's arms. He was not rewarded as he deserved, and the opposite or French party thought that his consequent discontent afforded an opening for a reconciliation with them. Geronimo Morone was em- ployed by them to seduce him from his fidelity to Charles V. He was offered the kingdom of Naples as a reward, and every argument was used that might have most weight ; — the honour he would acquire by driving the barbarous nations from Italy, and the favours which the pope and other princes would shower upon him. These were, however, but specious reasonings. Pescara lent too ready an ear to them ; but Vittoria at once de- tected their fallacy, and the disgrace that would befall her husband if he abandoned his imperial master. She wrote him a letter full of eariwst persuasion to refuse the dazzling offers of Morone. She spoke of the glory acquired by fidelity and unblemished honour, as far outweighing any that a crown could bestow, saying, that for herself, she desired to be called the wife, not of a king, but of that great and glorious soldier, whose valour and generosity of soul had vanquished the greatest kings. Pescara's conduct on this occasion is wholly unworthy of the precepts of his admirable wife. He continued faithful to the emperor, but acted the base part of a spy and informer : by his means Morone's designs were betrayed, and he was thrown into prison. There is no doubt that the high-minded Vittoria continued to the
VITTORIA COLON NA. 7[)
last entirely ignorant of this ignoble action ; and praised her husband for having listened to her exhortations, and rejected a crown.
But while the marquess was acting so as to cast an eternal stigma on his honour, death was at hand to terminate every ambitious project. His many wounds, and the fatigues he had endured during the long wars, had so shaken his health, that neither his good consti- •* tution nor the skill of physicians were any longer able to afford relief. While preparing to die, he desired to take leave of his wife, and sent for her to join him at Milan ; but when he found that he should not survive long enough to see her, he sent for his cousin, the marchese del Vasto, and recommended Vittoria to him with the warmest affection. Vittoria, on hearing of her husband's illness, had left Naples to join him. She passed through Rome, where she was received with the greatest honours, but on arriving at Viterbo, she received intelligence of Pescara's death : her grief caused her to forget her religious resignation and fortitude ; its excess overwhelmed her with tears and the bitterest anguish.
From that time this illustrious lady never ceased to spend every faculty of her soul in lamenting her lost husband. They had been married seventeen years, but J had no child ; she gave herself up entirely to sorrow ; and her faithful heart, incapable of a second attachment to replace one which had begun with her life, cherished only the image of her past happiness, and the hope of its renewal in another life. Her active mind could not repose tranquilly on its misery ; she continued to culti- vate it, so to render it more worthy of Pescara, and she exercised and amused it by the many sonnets she wrote in his honour. An Italian author has named her second only to Petrarch. Her verses are full of tender, ness, of absorbing passion, of truth and life. They fail in poetic fancy ; and yet, so much does the reader sym- pathise in the intense and fond sorrows of this ex- traordinary woman, that none can criticise, while all are
80 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
touched by her laments. The best poem in her volume has been attributed to Ariosto, I do not know on what authority ; but if written by her, has that elegance of style and concentration of expression, which characterises true poetry. It begins with the affecting exclamation, fc I am indeed her you loved ! Behold how bitter and eating grief has changed me ! — Scarcely could you recognise me by my voice. On your departure, that charm which you called beauty, and of which I was proud, since it was dear to you, left my cheeks, my eyes, my hair ! — Yet, ah ! how can I live, when I remember that the impious tomb and envious dust con- taminates and destroys thy dear and beautiful limbs ! " These verses may in their original be very justly com- pared in pathos and grace to Petrarch : —
Io sono, io son ben dessa ! or vedi come
M' ha cangiata il dolor fiero ed atroce
Ch' a fatica la voce
Pub di me^dar la conoscenza vera.
Lassa ! ch' al tuo partir parti veloce
Dalle guancie, dagli occhi, e dalle chiome
Questa a cui davi come
Tu di beltade, ed io n' andava altera,
Che me '1 credea, perch fc in tal pregio t' era.
***** Com' e ch' io viva, quando mi rimembra, Ch' empio sepolcro, e invidiosa polve Contamina e dissolve La delicate alabastrine membra ?
For seven years she gave up her whole heart to sor- row. Her relations, thinking her too young at the age of thirty-five to continue unmarried, pressed her to accept one of the many offers of marriage which she received. But, wedded as all her thoughts had been since her earliest infancy to one object, she felt uncon- querably averse to any second nuptials. She lived in retirement either at Ischia or Naples, dedicating herself wholly to memory. Her active mind, refusing to find comfort in any sublunary blessing, had recourse to reli- gion for consolation. She now employed herself in writing sacred poetry, and her enthusiastic disposition led her to project a pilgrimage to Jerusalem ; but the marchese del Vasto opposed her putting if into execution.
She now left Naples on a tour to the north of Italy,
VITTORIA COLONNA. 81
and visited Lucca and Ferrara. She afterwards took up her residence at Rome, and became the intimate friend of the cardinals Bembo, Contarini, and Pole, and various distinguished prelates. A love of yet greater retirement induced her a few years after to retreat to a convent at Orvieto ; from whence she removed, after a short time, to the convent of Santa Caterina, at Viterbo. Our countryman, cardinal Pole, resided in this town, and an •> intimate friendship subsisted between him and Vittoria. There is a resemblance in their characters that renders this intercourse interesting; they were both single- minded, enthusiastic, and noble. Vittoria added feminine tenderness to these qualities, while religious fervour formed a bor»d of sympathy between them. The com- panions of cardinal Pole were Flaminio and Pietro Car- nescecchi : the latter having afterwards become a pro- testant, doubts have been raised concerning the orthodoxy of Vittoria ; but there is every evidence that she never fell off from her adherence to the catholic church.
A short time before her death she returned to Rome, and took up her abode in the Palazzo Cesarini ; where she died, in the year 1547, at the age of fifty-seven. During her last moments her attached friend, Michael *' Angelo, stood beside her. He was considerably her junior, and looked up to her as something superior to human nature, and entitled to his most fervent admir- ation. He has written many sonnets in her praise ; and J there is extant a letter, in which he states how he stood beside her lifeless remains, and kissed her cold hand, lamenting afterwards that the overwhelming grief and awe of the moment, had prevented him from pressing her lips for the first and last time.
This almost divine woman was held by her con- temporaries in enthusiastic veneration. Her name is always accompanied by glowing praises and expressions of heartfelt respect. Ariosto joined with all Italy in celebrating her virtues and talents, and has addressed several stanzas to her in his Orlando Furioso.
VOL. II. G
GUARINI.
1537—1612.
BATTISTA GUABINI was descended from a family illus- trious for its literary merits. One of his ancestors, known as Guarino of Verona, was conspicuous among the restorers of learning of the fifteenth century ; and his descendants emulated his labours. Battista was born at Ferrara, in 1537. His mother was Orsolina, the daughter of count Baldassare Machiavelli. We are nearly in ignorance with regard to any of the circum- stances of the early youth of Guarini. He studied at Pisa and Padua, and visited Rome while very young. On his return to Ferrara, he gave lectures on Aristotle in the university. He was made professor of belles lettres, and was already known to his friends as a poet He married young, Taddea Bendedei, of a noble Fer- rarese family.
But Guarini was not contented with a life of literary labour, and preferred the distinction of a court to poetic fame. There is a letter of his, dated 1565, which gives token that he had already made the paltry ambition of serving a prince the aim of his life. This letter is written to a friend at Pisa, who had asked his advice on the subject of whether he should enter on the service of his sovereign. Guarini establishes the doctrine, that in private life a man is as far from tranquillity as in public ; he is equally pursued by envy and pride, with- out the compensation he might find in courtly favour. In his own person he acted on these ideas, and reaped the usual harvest of disappointment and mortification. His wishes were, however, at first gratified. He was
GUABINI. 83
sent, by the duke Alfonso, to Venice, about this very time, to congratulate the new doge, Pietro Loredano ; and, his oration being printed, he acquired a reputation for talent and learning. He was for some time resident at Turin, as ambassador to Emanuel Philibert, duke of Savoy. In 1571, he was sent to Rome, to pay homage to Gregory XIII., who had succeeded to Pius V. He arrived in the evening, after a hasty journey, and passed the night in composing his speech, which he delivered the next morning in consistory. Two years afterwards, the duke sent him to Poland, to congratulate Henry of Valois on his accession to the throne. On his return, he was named counsellor and secretary of state. After an interval, he was a second time sent to Poland, on a mission of the highest importance. Henry of Valois succeeded to the crown of France, and Alfonso was de- sirous of being chosen in his room to the Polish throne. Guarini was sent to negotiate his election. He felt the weight and responsibility of his errand fall heavily on -4 him. His letter to his wife during the journey has been several times quoted, but it is too interesting to be omitted here. It is dated from Warsaw, November 25. 1575, and is as follows : —
(f This which you read is my letter and not my letter ; it is mine, for I dictate it, — it is not mine, because I do not write it. But you must not so much grieve that I have not a hand to write with, as rejoice that I have a tongue to recount that which, from vain compassion or negligence, another might conceal. I know you must have been complaining of my dilatoriness in writing, but I shall find no difficulty in excusing my- self, since the cause has been worse than the effect ; and, instead of lamenting my silence, you may thank God that you at last hear from me. I set out, as you know, more in the fashion of a courier than an ambas- sador ; and it would have been well if my body alone had laboured, while my mind reposed. But the hand used by day to whip on my horses, was put to service at night in turning over papers. Thus, formerly, I ar- G 2
84 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
rived at Rome in the evening by post, and the next day presented myself at the consistory. Nature gave way under the double fatigue of body and mind, especially as I travelled by the road that passes through Saravalle and Ampez, which is . inexpressibly disagreeable and incommodious, as well from the rudeness of the in- habitants as the state of the country ; the want of horses, scarcity of provisions, and, in short, of every necessary of life ; so that, on my arrival at Hala, I fell ill of a fever, in spite of which I hurried on to Vienna. I leave you to imagine what I suffered from fever, weariness, and thirst: unable to procure remedies or medical treatment; cast upon bad lodgings, bad food, and into beds that smothered me with their feathers ; devoid of all those conveniences and comforts which are necessary to the sick. My malady increased, and my strength grew less ; and every thing, except wine, became distasteful to me, so that I had small hopes of life, and turned with disgust even from the few days I expected to live. While I navigated the Danube, we were nearly overwhelmed by a rapid and dangerous stream, and should not have escaped had not the sailors made use of the assistance of the strong and active men of the coun- try, who are accustomed to contend with this danger, being always on the spot, to give aid, and who, by force of oars, stemmed the torrent. But for their help no vessel could escape wreck ; and the place is worthy of the infamous reputation it has gained, and the name of the Pass of Death, which is bestowed on it. The boldest travellers fear the passage, and disembark, and proceed by land, till the boat has got beyond the danger, for it is really frightful ; but I was so ill, that I had lost all sense of peril, and remained on board with the brave boatmen, — I will not say whether from stupidity or intrepidity, — yet I may say that I was intrepid, since I felt no fear when but two steps from certain death.
" I arrived at last at Vienna, where a physician, without considering the symptoms of my illness, gave nie a medicine that poisoned me, and my malady grew
GUARINI. 85
worse. You will all say that I ought to have stopped short, and taken care of my life : my common sense, my sufferings, the failure of strength, and a natural wish to live, love for my fellow creatures and my family, suggested the same counsel; but my honour forced me to proceed, and obliged me, since I was at the head of this embassy, and as the whole weight of so important a negotiation rested on me, to prefer the interests of my prince to my own safety ; and I acted so that 1 might testify to all Poland my fidelity to my sovereign by my death, rather than, by preserving my life, give room to the suspicion that I feigned an illness so to break my promises, the fulfilment of which was expected with anxiety ; which false notion among those selfish and distrustful men would at once have discredited our ne- gotiation, and deprived our prince of the crown which we are endeavouring to place on his head.
" It is impossible to form an idea of what I suffered during a journey of more than 6'00 miles, from Vienna to Warsaw ; dragged and torn along, rather than con- veyed, by my incommodious carriage. I do not know how I survived : beset by continual fever, without rest, or food, or remedies ; enduring excessive cold and in- finite inconveniences, while I passed through an unin- habited country, where I often found it better to remain for the night in my uncomfortable carriage, than to ex- pose myself to the stench of the inns or, rather, stables, where the dog, the cat, the fowls, the geese, the pigs, the calves, and sometimes squalling children, kept me awake all night. The difficulties of the journey were increased also by the robbers, who, during this inter- regnum, infest the country, robbing whatever they can \ so that it was impossible to proceed without a strong escort ; and, although I took infinite pains to avoid them, I had twice nearly fallen into their hands, escaping rather through Divine Providence than human foresight. I arrived at last at Warsaw, a great deal more dead than alive ; nor have I gained any relief to my sufferings by being here, except that I am no longer in movement, G 3
86 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
nor dragged along by my carriage ; for the rest, I enjoy no repose,, either night or day. My fever is now my least evil ; the objects by which I am surrounded are worse : the place, the season, the food, the drink, the medicines, the physicians, the servants, the in- quietude of my mind, and other troubles, are greater ills than the fever, which would soon quit me but for these annoyances. Indeed, I have not yet discovered whether my sleepless nights arise from illness, or the constant noise around me. Imagine a whole nation assembled in a little village, and I lodged in the middle of it. There is no spot above, below, to the right nor to the left, — there is no room by day or by night, that is not full of noise and disturbance. No particular time is set apart for business here ; they are always at work, because they are always drinking, and without wine all transactions grow cold. When business is ended visits begin, and when these are over, drums, trumpets, can- nons, shouts, cries, quarrels, and every other species of tumult, fill up the interval till I am distracted. If I suffered these things for the glory and love of God, it would be called a martyrdom ; and yet, to render service without hope of reward, almost deserves the same name- God knows what is to become of me ! I should feel that my life was no longer in danger if I could take any care of myself. Prepare your mind for every evil. It is the part of a silly woman to lament a husband who is content to die. Let others honour my memory with their tears ; do you honour it by your courage. I re- commend our children to you ; for if I die, you must be a father as well as a mother to them. Arm yourself with reflection and manly fortitude ; guarding them from those who have reduced me to this state, and teaching them to imitate their father in any thing rather than in his fortunes."*
* There is another letter of Guarini, dated from Cracovy, during his first visit to Poland, written with less personal feeling, and greater toleration : — " I have viewed the climate and manners of this country," he writes " with infinite pleasure ; mitigating the annoyances resulting from unusual things, by the enjoyment of unusual sights. The country and its inhabit- ants are certainly much less barbarous than is generally supposed ; and in
OVARINI. 8?
This letter presents a lively picture of Guarini's dis- position ; — his energy in struggling with evils ; his ambition to please his prince, and his fears lest he should not be fitly recompensed ; the fervour of imagination, which magnified ill fortune, and which, while it gave him strength to meet it, yet doubled its power over him. Although he failed in the object of the embassy, yet, after all the dangers to which he had exposed himself, he felt that he had sacrificed his life to his prince, and yet that he should go unrewarded. He was not de- ceived ; but he was incapable of meeting the fulfilment of his anticipations with any patience or fortitude.
His mind was naturally turned to poetry; but he pretended to disdain such occupation. On the subject of his Pastor Fido, he writes to a friend : — te This is the work of one who does not profess the poetic art, but writes for his own amusement, as a recreation from more serious studies ; and who would willingly burn his works when they do not appear good to good judges." The fame and favour which Tasso was en- joying made him depreciate himself, since he could not excel his rival. Tasso and he had been friends ,for many years ; they quarrelled at this time, but the dis- cord did not result from any literary contest, but from rivalship in the favour of a lady. They both loved the
my opinion there would be no fault to be found, if the former was gifted with wine, and if the latter abstained from it. But I am afraid that my words will scarcely find credit with you, prejudiced as you are by the ac- counts given by the French who have been here Yet I am sure you would agree with me, if you ever visited the country. The kingdom is extensive, rich, powerful, united, abundant, and peopled by a brave population. The senators display great talent during peace — the cavaliers valour in war: their aim is glory — their support liberty. The form of the government is mixed, like that of Sparta, but better than that. For the kingdom is neither oppressed by the tyranny of one, nor the insolence of a few, nor the base, ness of the many; but having mingled the best parts of all three modes of government one has resulted, in which the kingly power cannot intrench upon liberty, nor licence endanger the monarchy. The nobles cannot oppress the people, nor the people injure the nobles. Valour holds the first rank, nobility the second, riches the third ; and every one, however lowly born, may nourish the expectation of rising by merit to the highest honours. How I wish that you had an opportunity of visiting it : I am certain tlia' you would be highly pleased. A journey to France is more fatiguing ; and after arriving in Poland, I, to whom an excursion to Rome used to appear an arduous undertaking, begin to think that travelling is a natural state &a every man."
o 4
88 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
countess of Scandiano. Tasso wrote a sonnet, accusing Guarini of lightness and inconstancy in his passion, as well as of the greater sin of boasting of his triumphs over the ladies of his love. Guarini replied, with bit- terness, in another sonnet, accusing his rival of uttering falsehoods that mirrored his own faithlessness, which enabled him to nourish love for two objects at the same time.* This contention broke off their friendship ; but , Guarini was no ungenerous enemy ; he possessed a loyal ! and noble spirit, and never did any thing to injure his unfortunate rival. On the contrary, some years after, when the Gerusalemme Liberata of Tasso was about to be published in a very defective and erroneous state, he took great pains to furnish a correct copy. 1582. After struggling with his discontents at court for yEtat. some time, he requested his dismissal from the duke ; and retired to his villa in the Polesine of Rovigo, named La Guarina, having been bestowed upon an ancestor by a former duke of Ferrara. He now congratulated himself on having escaped from the tempests of public life into port ; yet his disappointments, and the duke's ingratitude, rankled at his heart, and overflowed upon paper, even when the subject immediately before him was not in accord with the pervading feeling of his mind. He occupied himself at La Guarina by writing the Pastor Fido ; and he makes one of the characters of the pastoral complain of wrongs similar to his own. Carino, nar- rating his story, says, —
How I forsook
Elis and Pisa after, and betook Myself to Argos and Mycene, where An earthly God I worshipped, with what there I suffered in that hard captivity, Would be too long for thee to hear, for me Too sad to utter. Only thus much know ; — I lost my labour, and in sand did sow : I writ, wept, sung ; hot and cold fits I had ; I rid, I stood, I bore, now sad, now glad, Now high, now low, now in esteem, now scorn'd j And as the Delphic iron, which is turned Now to heroic, now to mechanic use, I fear'd no danger — did no pains refuse ; Was all things — and was nothing ; changed my hair, Condition, custom, thoughts, and life — but ne'er
* Abate Serassi, Vita di Tasso.
GUABINI. 89
Could change my fortune. Then I knew at last, And panted after my sweet freedom past. So, flying smoky Argos, and the great Storms that attend on greatness, my retreat I made to Pisa — my thought's quiet port.
* * '* * *
Who would have dreamed 'midst plenty to grow poor ? Or to be less, by toiling to be more ? I thought, by how much more in prince's courts Men did excel in titles and supports, So much the more obliging they would be, The best enamel of nobility. But now the contrary by proofs I 've seen : Courtiers in name, and courteous in their mien They are ; but in their actions I could spy Not the least transient spark of courtesy. People, in show smooth as the calmed waves, Yet cruel as the ocean when it raves : Men in appearance only did I find, Love in the face, but malice in the mind : With a straight look and tortuous heart, and least Fidelity where greatest was profest. That which elsewhere is virtue, is vice there : Plain truth, fair dealing, love unfeign'd, sincere Compassion, faith inviolable, and An innocence both of the heart and hand, They count the folly of a soul that 's vile And poor, — a vanity worthy their smile. To cheat, to lie, deceit and theft to use, And under show of pity to abuse ; To r,ise upon the ruins of their brothers, And seek their own by robbing praise from others, The virtues are of that perfidious race. No worth, no valour, no respect of place, Of age, or law — bridle of modesty, No tie of love, or blood, nor memory Of good received ; nothing's so venerable, Sacred, or just, that is inviolable By that vast thirst of riches, and desire Unquenchable of still ascending higher. Now I, not fearing, since I meant not ill, And in court-craft not having any skill, Wearing my thoughts charactered on my brow, And a glass window in my heart — judge thou How open and how fair a mark my heart Lay to their envy's unsuspected dart.
FANSH AWE'S Trans, of Pastor Fido*
Come poi per veder Argo e Micene Lasciassi Elide e Pisa, e quivi fussi Adorator di deita terrena, Con tutto quel che in servitu soffersi, Troppo nojosa istoria a te 1' udirlo, A me dolente il raccontarlo fora. Si dirt) sol, che perdei 1* opra, e il frutto. Scrissi, piansi, cantai, arsi, gelai, Corsi, stetti, sostenni, or tristo, or lieto, Or alto, or basso : or vilipeso, or caro. E come il ferro Delfico j stromento Or d' impresa sublime, or d' opra vile, Non temei risco e non schivai fatica : Tutto fei, nulla fui : per cangiar loco, Stato, vita, pensier, costumi e pelo, Mai non cangiai fortuna : alfin conobbi, E sospirai la liberta primiera.
90 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
The Pastor Fido is the principal monument of Guarini's poetic genius. Despite his pretended careless- ness, he was animated by the spirit of poetry, and emulation spurred him on to surpass the Aminta of Tasso ; and he took pains even to compose whole pas- sages in opposition, and manifest rivalship, of that drama. A pastoral presents in its very nature a thousand diffi- culties. It has for its subject the passions in their primitive simplicity, and the manners are deprived of all factitious refinement ; and yet the most imaginative thoughts and the softest and noblest sentiments are to
E dopo tanti strazi, Argo lasciando E le grandezze di miseria piene, Tornai di Pisa ai riposati alberghi.
* * * *
Ma chi creduto avria di venir meno Tra le grandezze, e impoverir nell' oro ?
10 mi pensai che ne' reali alberghi Fossero tanto piu le genti umane, Quant' esse ban piu di tutto quel dovizia Ond' ha 1' umanita si nobil fregio.
Ma vi trpvai tutto il contrario, Uranio, Gente di nome e di parlar cortese, Ma d' opre scarsa e di pieta nemica : Gente placida in vista e mansueta, . Ma piu del cupo mar tumida e fera ;
Gente sol d' apparenza, in cui se miri Viso di carita^ mente d' invidia Poi trovi, e in dritto sguardo animo bieco, E min or fede aHor, che piu lusinga. Quel ch' altrove e virtii, quivi £ difetto. Dir vero, oprar npn torto, amar non finto, Pieta sincera, inviolabil fede, E di core e di man vita innocente ; Stirnan d' animo vil, di basso ingegno Sciocchezza e vanita" degna di riso. JL' ingannare, il mentir, la frode, il furto E la rapina, di pieta vestita, Cescer col danno e precipizio altrui, E far a sfe, dell' altrui biasmo onore, Son le virtu di quella gente infida : Non merto altrui, non valor, non riverenza, Nfe d' eta, ne di grado, ne di legge, Non freno di vergogna, non rispetto Nfe d' amor n£ di sangue, non memoria Di ricevuto ben, nfc finalmente, Cosa si venerabile, o si sant;t- O si giusta esser pub, che a quella vasta Cupidigia d* onori, a quella ingorda Fame d' avere, inviolabil sia. Or io, che incauto e di lor arti ignaro Sempre mi vissi, e portai scritto in fronte
11 mio pensiero, e disvelato il core, Tu puoi pensar se a non sospetti strali D' invida gente fui scopcrto segno.
Pastor Fido, atto v. scena 1.
GUABINI. 91
flow from the lips of the untaught shepherds and shepherdesses. Thus its foundation being purely ideal, our chief pleasure must he derived from the poetry in which it is clothed. Guarini endeavoured to over- come the want of interest inherent in this species of composition, by a plot more complex than that usually adopted. A portion of this is sufficiently clumsy, and the bad character of the piece, the coquette Corisca, is managed with very little art or probability. There is much spirit and beauty, however, in the final develope- ment, — in the discovery that the priest makes that he is about to sacrifice his own son, and the joy occasioned by the conviction suddenly flashing on his mind, that the oracle, on which the whole depends, is happily ful- filled. Still the chief charm of the Pastor Fido is de- rived from its poetry ; the simplicity and clearness of J its diction, the sweetness and tenderness of the senti- ments, and the vivacity and passion that animate the whole. No doubt he was satisfied with the result of his labours, and found pride in communicating it. While affecting to despise his poetic productions, their genuine merit, and his own vanity, which was great, caused him to collect with pleasure the applauses which his Pastor Fido naturally acquired for him. He read it at the court of the duke Ferrante di Gonzaga, to a society com- posed of courtiers, ladies, and eminent men. It was acted at Turin on occasion of the festivals to celebrate 1585 the nuptials of Charles Emanuel, prince of Savoy, without. Catherine, daughter of Philip II., king of Spain. The 48- drama excited the greatest admiration; and Guarini was looked on henceforth with justice, as second only to J Tasso among the poets of the age.
But he was not fortunate enough to be allowed to dedicate his whole time and thoughts to poetry ; and he might bring forward his own experience in proof of his assertion, that private life is not more exempt than public, from cares and the influence of evil passions. He was perpetually plunged in lawsuits, his first being against his father, who had married a second time, it
92 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
was said out of spite, and disputed his just inheritance, He had a family of eight children to provide for ; and unrewarded by his prince,, he found himself, after strug- gling for fourteen years to advance himself at court, overwhelmed by debt and embarrassment. His time and attention were taken up by exertions to extricate him- self, and to settle his affairs ; while his warm, impatient disposition ill endured the delays and disappointments, and the contact with selfish or dishonest men, which are the necessary concomitants of pecuniary difficulties. 1586. Perhaps these annoyances rendered him less un- jEtat. wiUing to accept the invitation, or rather to obey the 49' commands, of the duke of Ferrara, and to return to his post at his court. Alfonso, perceiving the esteem in which he was held by other princes, with his usual selfishness resolved to appropriate the services of a man, which others also were desirous of obtaining: he made him secretary of state, and sent him on missions to Umbria and Milan. His stay, however, was short : very soon after his children had advanced to manhood, those dissensions occurred between them and him, which form a painful portion of Guarini's life. It is difficult to say who was most to blame. The poet's temper was impetuous, and he perhaps showed himself tyrannical in his domestic circle, at the same time that his nature was without doubt, on most occasions, gene- rous and artless. His son had married a lady named Virginia Palmiroli, and continued, as is so usual in Italy, to reside with his wife under the paternal roof. But this arrangement became, it is conjectured, from the pride and imperiousness of the father, quite intolerable ; and the young pair left the house, and instituted a suit at law to obtain such a provision as would enable them to live in independence. The suit was decided against Guarini ; and his indignation, and assertion that his de- feat was occasioned by the partiality of the duke towards his son, seem to evince that he had more justice on his side than we are enabled to discover. However this
GUARINI. 93
may be, he was so angry at what he considered the in- justice of the sentence pronounced against him, that he again requested permission to retire from Alfonso's court. The duke granted his request, but not without such tokens of displeasure, as induced Guarini to leave Ferrara privately and in haste. He betook himself to the court of Savoy, where the prince willingly took him into his service ; but the poet found that the change of masters benefited him little, and he was so constantly employed, that he had not even time to write a letter. Alfonso also set on foot some intrigues against him, disliking that ^ any dependant of his should find protection elsewhere. His tranquillity being thus disturbed, he hastily quitted 1590. Savoy and took up his abode at Padua. He here lost his wife, whom he affectionately names in his letters as the better part of himself; and, by the separation of his eldest son, and the absence of his daughters, who were either married or had places in the palaces of va- rious princesses of Italy, his family circle was reduced to one son of ten years of age, whom he calls e< the hope of his house, and the consolation in his solitude." This change gave birth to new projects in his restless mind. " This sudden alteration and transformation of my life," he writes to the cardinal Gonzaga, in a letter dated from Padua, the 20th of November, 1591, " ap- pears to me to be brought about by the will of God, who thus calls me to a new vocation. I am not so old nor so weak as to be unfit to make use of those talents which God has bestowed on me ; and it appears to me that I act ill in spending without profit those years, which by the course of nature I could turn to the ad- vantage of my family, and of my young son, whose inclination for the priesthood I am desirous of assisting; and I would willingly spend the remnant of my days at Rome, if I could obtain such preferment, as would enable me to proceed honourably in the advancement of my moderate expectations." This idea, however, was but the offspring of disappointed hopes, and it vanished when other prospects were opened to him ; yet these
94 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
were variable and uncertain. His life, both from the ingratitude of Alfonso and his own restlessness, was destined to be passed stormily ; discontent and distrust had taken root in his mind, and existence wore a gloom y aspect.
At length Alfonso died,, and this circumstance, and the death of a daughter, assassinated by a jealous hus- band, caused him to quit Ferrara, and to establish him- self at Florence, where he was honourably received by the grand duke Ferdinand. Here doubtless he might have remained in peace, but for the irascibility of his temper, the indignation he felt when his views were thwarted, and his tendency to consider himself an ill- used man. His younger son, whom he mentions in the letter quoted above with so much interest, was placed at Pisa for the sake of his education, where he contracted an imprudent marriage with a young, beautiful, and dower- less widow. Guarini was transported by rage : he accused the duke of abetting his son in this act of dis- obedience, and indulged in implacable anger against the youth himself, to whom he refused any assistance, when reduced to the most necessitous circumstances. Guarini exalted the paternal authority, and exacted filial obedience, in a manner that displayed more pride than affection. Now in his old age, he was at variance with nearly all his children ; his violent expressions is a proof that he suffered ; but his heart did not relent nor open towards them, even when death snatched them from him; and it is impossible to sympathise in passions, which thus centred and ended in himself.
On leaving Florence, he visited Urbino ; but, dis- satisfied with his reception, he retired to Ferrara. The citizens deputed him to Rome to congratulate Paul Usur on his being created pope. It was on this oc- casion that cardinal Bellarmino reproached him for having done more harm to the Christian world by his Pastor Fido, than Luther and Calvin by their heresies — a singular denunciation — since, though the softness and tenderness of love, which pervades the poem, may
OUARINI. 95
tend to enervate; yet the fidelity, the devotion, and purity of sentiment, exhibited in the actions of the chief personages, certainly do not lay it open to excessive cen- sure. Guarini retorted by a witty reply, which the respect paid to the cardinal by the historians, has not permitted to be transmitted to us.
This was the last public service of Guarini. A few 1 608. years after he was invited to be present at the nuptials -<£tat. of Francesco Gonzaga and Marguerite of Savoy, during 71- which a comedy of his was represented with great splendour. Chiabrera wrote the interludes, and the ar- chitect Viamini arranged the scenery and decorations.
The last years of his life were taken up by the law- suits, which so strangely chequered his career. He hired a lodging at Venice, where many of his causes were decided, as near as possible to the courts, and frequently visited that city to attend the proceedings ; and he made a last journey to Rome at the time that two suits were decided in his favour. On his return to Venice he was ^eized by a fever, of which he died, after an illness of seventeen days, on the 7th of October, 1612, at the age of seventy-five.
96
TORQUATO TASSO. 1544—1595.
" Tu che ne vai in Pindo, Ivi pende mia cetra ad un cipresso, Salutala in mio nome, e dille poi Ch' io son dagl' anni e da fortuna oppresso."
" Thou, who to Pindus tak'st thy way,
Where hangs my harp upon the cypress tree, Salute it in my name, and say, I am bow'd down with years and misery. "
THESE few lines, which, in the simple and beautiful original, show what a burthen of thought and power of feeling may be compressed within the smallest compass that language will allow, were written by Torquato Tasso, during his second confinement as a lunatic in the hospital of St. Anne, at Ferrara, by the duke of Alfonso, his patron and his oppressor. They were written when all Europe was listening to the voice of his song, but heard not that of his complaint ; in the meridian of his glory as a poet, and in the depth of his humiliation as a man. A spectacle more deplorable and repulsive could hardly be presented to the eye of hu- manity ; nor a fame more enviable and attractive be contemplated by young "spirits of finer mould," to tempt them to hazard all perils of such suffering for the acquisition of such renown. This fragment — a specimen of thousands of fancies, no doubt, equally exquisite and affecting, which were continually passing through the darkened chamber of his mind, more dreary than the gloom of his prison-house — has been quoted at the com- mencement of this memoir, as letting the reader at once into the whole mystery of the poet's life, by a single flash of his genius affording a glance at his afflictions. What these were, a long and melancholy tale must unfold ; what their effect was may be painfully conceived, when we recollect that he was scarcely turned upon forty, at
TASSO. 97
the time that he sends the message to his forlorn harp in the woods of Pindus, that he is "oppressed with years and ill fortune," — " dagl' anni e da fortuna op- presso." ^
If ever man was horn a poet, it might be said so of Tasso; while his whole manner of life, not less than its remarkable vicissitudes, exemplified the poetic character, as it has been idealised in our minds from infancy, by the impressions left upon them, both from fabling tra- ditions and authentic records, concerning these privi- leged, but on the whole (perhaps) unhappy, beings. The price of greatness must be paid, in labour or suf- fering, by every man who would distinguish himself in any way above his fellow-creatures ; and the poet (no more, it may be, though apparently much more, than the prince, the warrior, the statesman, or the philo- sopher,) must endure hardships, mental and personal, in proportion to his enjoyments, and be humbled in the same degree that he is exalted above the common lot. Among any ten names, which might be mentioned as having secured an imperishable pre-eminence beyond the probability of revolution, in the same walk of polite literature, Tasso's undoubtedly would be one. At what an expense it was acquired, we proceed to show in a train of events, almost as romantic, and a thousand times more touching, than any thing in his own diversified fictions. He was a poet in every thing and at all times, from infancy (if we may believe his biographers) till he died in extreme old age (if we measure his life by his own testimony above quoted), in his fifty-second year ! Smiles and tears, rapture and agony, hope and despond- ency, a palace and a dungeon, were the alternations1 frequently crossing in the course of one who was the companion of princes, the delight of ladies, the admira- tion of the world, — an outcast, a wanderer, clothed in rags and asking bread, or the lonely tenant of a maniac's cell. Such was he, and such were the changes of his state.
Torquato was the son of Bernardo Tasso, himself a
VOL. II. H
98 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
poet of first rank in his generation, and who has left works, both in prose and verse,, to which posterity is yet willing to give honour ; but which suffer more eclipse by proximity to the surpassing splenclour of his son's,, than might have been their lot had he appeared by himself, the single one of his race, who had proved how hard, and yet how possible, it is to climb
" The steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar."
Bernardo was the descendant of an honourable line of ancestors, — one of whom, nearly two centuries before him, had been a benefactor to the public, by first intro- ducing the method of epistolary intercourse through the medium of posts ; and, leaving to his children the repu- tation which he had acquired in the conduct of these, they became his successors, not only in establishments for that purpose in their own country, but some of them in lands beyond the Alps. It is said that noble al- liances were formed by various branches of the Tasso family, in Spain and in Flanders, while others became sovereign princes in Germany, that menagerie for po- tentates of all genera and species, from the two-headed eagle of Austria to the wren of * * * *. It would be invidious to set down one out of a hundred who might contend for the honour of filling up the blank, as the least of the little among the great. But, whatever were the hereditary glories of a name, — drawn like a golden chain out of the darkness of the past, and connected, as that of the obscurest peasant in a civilised country may be presumed to have been, with all the varieties of rank, all the gradations of intellect, and all the changes of good and evil fortune, — of all the links which formed that chain, those of Bernardo and Torquato were and have remained the most illustrious, though the consecu- tive or collateral series has been continued to the present day, when the representatives are still found at Bergamo. Bernardo, who was born in 1493, being left an 4 orphan in early youth, with two dependent sisters to provide for out of a very slender patrimony, was com-
TASSO. 99
pelled to quarter himself on the patronage of sundry princes and prelates, who, according to the fashion of the times — some from parade, and others from attach- ment to the noble arts, — loved to have men of genius and letters in their train. Many of these, indeed, were kept, not only to adorn their courts and swell their pomp, but were employed as secretaries and counsellors, as well as occasionally entrusted with important em- bassies, which, both in war and peace, were frequent between the commonwealths and principalities into which Italy was divided, and by whose conflicting in- terests, or under the malignant influence of whose petty intrigues (the rank growth of such a state of society), it was continually more or less distracted. Bernardo was, therefore, from the pressure of circumstances, a restless and homeless man through the principal part of his life, serving the great without serving himself, for precarious bread; and at once pursuing fortune and fame, in the vain hope of being at length — and at length — and at length rewarded for his fidelity to his masters with the former, and leaving an inheritance of the latter, which should as much exalt his family by distinction in literature, as others had aggrandised it by the acquirement of riches and alliances with rank, at home and abroad.
At the age of forty-one, after a youth of liberal study, sanguine anticipation, and cherished but ill-directed love for a lady of great beauty and no less celebrity, having been praised by Ariosto — in the unsuccessful pursuit of which he compensated himself and delighted his countrymen with the blandishments of poetry, — he was at length appointed secretary to Ferrante Sanseve- rino, prince of Salerno. Him Bernardo accompanied through many strange vicissitudes of prosperity and misfortune, in the court and in the battle-field ; till, at the end of a few years, he shared so grievously, yet so magnanimously, in the ruin of his patron, that, the latter being involved in a conspiracy against the vice- regal government of Naples, and compelled to flee intf H 2
100 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.
France, the poet followed him thither at the sacrifice of his small estate, and an income which had just raised him above want. Before this ebbing in the tide of his affairs, which, " taken at the flood " (had that not been arrested in its advance), he might reasonably have ex- pected would have led on to fortune, he had married a lady of Naples, named Portia Rossi, an heiress in ex- pectance, and of great personal and mental accomplish- ments. This was the golden age of Bernardo's life. After the revelry of fancy and romance which had carried him away during his former passion, wherein his heart had little share, the love of affection endeared him to his home, and he felt the transition like one who exclaims, " How sweet is daylight and fresh air!" after the midnight splendour of the ball-room, with the dream-like fascinations of music, dancing, and spectacle, which vanish as effectually as fairy palaces conjured up in the wilderness, and leave the heart desolate.
While Bernardo was at Naples, he commenced a poem of the romantic class on the adventures of Amadis de Gaul, or " Amadigi," as the work is entitled. This he projected upon the regular plan of a fable, having a beginning, middle, and end ; but he was not of sufficient authority to establish, by his example, a classical form of epic, though his more successful and more gifted son seems to have borrowed the idea of doing that from him. When he read the first cantos of this perform- ance, as originally constructed, he observed, that though the presence chamber of the court of Salerno was well filled at first with eager and expecting auditors, before he had done nearly all of them had disappeared. From this he concluded (not suspecting any deficiency of power in himself), that the unity of action prescribed by the severer critics was, in its very nature, not agree- ble to nature in art, knowing that he had punctiliously observed all the rules of the latter. This failure, en- forced by the persuasions of his friends, and the com- mands of the prince, induced him to remodel what he had written, and elaborate the remainder after the
TASSO. 101
precedents of Pulci, Boiardo, and Ariosto. The work was extended to a hundred cantos, and, when published, was so well received, that the author had cause to congratulate himself on having met the public taste and gratified it ; but it was the public taste of the day only, for his poem passed away with the fashion of it, and is now remembered among '* things that were," while the three productions of his afore-named prede- cessors still keep their graduated rank of ascent, and find readers in every age, notwithstanding all the de- fects and excesses that may be charged upon them. Bernardo's failed ; less, perhaps, because of its infe- riority, than because it did not display the proportionate superiority which the others had each in turn mani- fested over all its respective forerunners.
It was while Bernardo resided at Sorrento, a city in the vicinity of Naples, where he occupied a palace over- looking the sea, happy in his home, and prosperous, or rather promising himself prosperity in his fortune, the prince of Salerno having released him from all burden- some duties in his service, that his son Torquato, the second of that name (the first having died young), was born, on the llth of March, 1544. Sorrento is here put down as the birth-place of the poet, among other cities contending for that honour, like those seven
" that strove for Homer dead,
Through which the living Homer begg'd his bread."
Ath. I. 384.
For of Tasso, in the sequel, a sarcasm as bitter might be recorded. A daughter, elder than either of the boys, was at this time growing up under the eyes of their parents. A letter of the father's