CHAPTER I.

Transcriber's Note.

Variable spelling and hyphenation have been retained. Minor punctuation

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[Illustration: Galileo Galilei]

THE

LIFE

OF

GALILEO GALILEI,

WITH

ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE ADVANCEMENT

OF

EXPERIMENTAL PHILOSOPHY.

MDCCCXXX.

LONDON.

LIFE OF GALILEO:

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF EXPERIMENTAL PHILOSOPHY.

CHAPTER I.

_Introduction._

THE knowledge which we at present possess of the phenomena of nature and

of their connection has not by any means been regularly progressive, as

we might have expected, from the time when they first drew the attention

of mankind. Without entering into the question touching the scientific

acquirements of eastern nations at a remote period, it is certain that

some among the early Greeks were in possession of several truths,

however acquired, connected with the economy of the universe, which were

afterwards suffered to fall into neglect and oblivion. But the

philosophers of the old school appear in general to have confined

themselves at the best to observations; very few traces remain of their

having instituted _experiments_, properly so called. This putting of

nature to the torture, as Bacon calls it, has occasioned the principal

part of modern philosophical discoveries. The experimentalist may so

order his examination of nature as to vary at pleasure the circumstances

in which it is made, often to discard accidents which complicate the

general appearances, and at once to bring any theory which he may form

to a decisive test. The province of the mere observer is necessarily

limited: the power of selection among the phenomena to be presented is

in great measure denied to him, and he may consider himself fortunate if

they are such as to lead him readily to a knowledge of the laws which

they follow.

Perhaps to this imperfection of method it may be attributed that natural

philosophy continued to be stationary, or even to decline, during a long

series of ages, until little more than two centuries ago. Within this

comparatively short period it has rapidly reached a degree of perfection

so different from its former degraded state, that we can hardly

institute any comparison between the two. Before that epoch, a few

insulated facts, such as might first happen to be noticed, often

inaccurately observed and always too hastily generalized, were found

sufficient to excite the naturalist's lively imagination; and having

once pleased his fancy with the supposed fitness of his artificial

scheme, his perverted ingenuity was thenceforward employed in forcing

the observed phenomena into an imaginary agreement with the result of

his theory; instead of taking the more rational, and it should seem, the

more obvious, method of correcting the theory by the result of his

observations, and considering the one merely as the general and

abbreviated expression of the other. But natural phenomena were not then

valued on their own account, and for the proofs which they afford of a

vast and beneficent design in the structure of the universe, so much as

for the fertile topics which the favourite mode of viewing the subject

supplied to the spirit of scholastic disputation: and it is a

humiliating reflection that mankind never reasoned so ill as when they

most professed to cultivate the art of reasoning. However specious the

objects, and alluring the announcements of this art, the then prevailing

manner of studying it curbed and corrupted all that is free and noble in

the human mind. Innumerable fallacies lurked every where among the most

generally received opinions, and crowds of dogmatic and self-sufficient

pedants fully justified the lively definition, that "logic is the art of

talking unintelligibly on things of which we are ignorant."[1]

The error which lay at the root of the philosophy of the middle ages was

this:—from the belief that general laws and universal principles might

be discovered, of which the natural phenomena were _effects_, it was

thought that the proper order of study was, first to detect the general

_cause_, and then to pursue it into its consequences; it was considered

absurd to begin with the effect instead of the cause; whereas the real

choice lay between proceeding from particular facts to general facts,

or from general facts to particular facts; and it was under this

misrepresentation of the real question that all the sophistry lurked. As

soon as it is well understood that the general _cause_ is no other than

a single fact, common to a great number of phenomena, it is necessarily

perceived that an accurate scrutiny of these latter must precede any

safe reasoning with respect to the former. But at the time of which we

are speaking, those who adopted this order of reasoning, and who began

their inquiries by a minute and sedulous investigation of facts, were

treated with disdain, as men who degraded the lofty name of philosophy

by bestowing it upon mere mechanical operations. Among the earliest and

noblest of these was Galileo.

It is common, especially in this country, to name Bacon as the founder

of the present school of experimental philosophy; we speak of the

Baconian or inductive method of reasoning as synonimous and convertible

terms, and we are apt to overlook what Galileo had already done before

Bacon's writings appeared. Certainly the Italian did not range over the

circle of the sciences with the supreme and searching glance of the

English philosopher, but we find in every part of his writings

philosophical maxims which do not lose by comparison with those of

Bacon; and Galileo deserves the additional praise, that he himself gave

to the world a splendid practical illustration of the value of the

principles which he constantly recommended. In support of this view of

the comparative deserts of these two celebrated men, we are able to

adduce the authority of Hume, who will be readily admitted as a

competent judge of philosophical merit, where his prejudices cannot bias

his decision. Discussing the character of Bacon, he says, "If we

consider the variety of talents displayed by this man, as a public

speaker, a man of business, a wit, a courtier, a companion, an author, a

philosopher, he is justly the object of great admiration. If we consider

him merely as an author and philosopher, the light in which we view him

at present, though very estimable, he was yet inferior to his

contemporary Galileo, perhaps even to Kepler. Bacon pointed out at a

distance the road to true philosophy: Galileo both pointed it out to

others, and made himself considerable advances in it. The Englishman was

ignorant of geometry: the Florentine revived that science, excelled in

it, and was the first that applied it, together with experiment, to

natural philosophy. The former rejected with the most positive disdain

the system of Copernicus: the latter fortified it with new proofs

derived both from reason and the senses."[2]

If we compare them from another point of view, not so much in respect of

their intrinsic merit, as of the influence which each exercised on the

philosophy of his age, Galileo's superior talent or better fortune, in

arresting the attention of his contemporaries, seems indisputable. The

fate of the two writers is directly opposed the one to the other;

Bacon's works seem to be most studied and appreciated when his readers

have come to their perusal, imbued with knowledge and a philosophical

spirit, which, however, they have attained independently of his

assistance. The proud appeal to posterity which he uttered in his will,

"For my name and memory, I leave it to men's charitable speeches, and to

foreign nations, and the next ages," of itself indicates a consciousness

of the fact that his contemporary countrymen were but slightly affected

by his philosophical precepts. But Galileo's personal exertions changed

the general character of philosophy in Italy: at the time of his death,

his immediate pupils had obtained possession of the most celebrated

universities, and were busily engaged in practising and enforcing the

lessons which he had taught them; nor was it then easy to find there a

single student of natural philosophy who did not readily ascribe the

formation of his principles to the direct or remote influence of

Galileo's example. Unlike Bacon's, his reputation, and the value of his

writings, were higher among his contemporaries than they have since

become. This judgment perhaps awards the highest intellectual prize to

him whose disregarded services rise in estimation with the advance of

knowledge; but the praise due to superior usefulness belongs to him who

succeeded in training round him a school of imitators, and thereby

enabled his imitators to surpass himself.

The biography of men who have devoted themselves to philosophical

pursuits seldom affords so various and striking a succession of

incidents as that of a soldier or statesman. The life of a man who is

shut up during the greater part of his time in his study or laboratory

supplies but scanty materials for personal details; and the lapse of

time rapidly removes from us the opportunities of preserving such

peculiarities as might have been worth recording. An account of it will

therefore consist chiefly in a review of his works and opinions, and of

the influence which he and they have exercised over his own and

succeeding ages. Viewed in this light, few lives can be considered more

interesting than that of Galileo; and if we compare the state in which

he found, with that in which he left, the study of nature, we shall feel

how justly an enthusiastic panegyric pronounced upon the age immediately

following him may be transferred to this earlier period. "This is the

age wherein all men's minds are in a kind of fermentation, and the

spirit of wisdom and learning begins to mount and free itself from those

drossie and terrene impediments wherewith it has been so long clogged,

and from the insipid phlegm and _caput mortuum_ of useless notions in

which it hath endured so violent and long a fixation. This is the age

wherein, methinks, philosophy comes in with a spring tide, and the

peripatetics may as well hope to stop the current of the tide, or, with

Xerxes, to fetter the ocean, as hinder the overflowing of free

philosophy. Methinks I see how all the old rubbish must be thrown away,

and the rotten buildings be overthrown and carried away, with so

powerful an inundation. These are the days that must lay a new

foundation of a more magnificent philosophy, never to be overthrown,

that will empirically and sensibly canvass the phenomena of nature,

deducing the causes of things from such originals in nature as we

observe are producible by art, and the infallible demonstration of

mechanics: and certainly this is the way, and no other, to build a true

and permanent philosophy."[3]

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Ménage.

[2] Hume's England, James I.

[3] Power's Experimental Philosophy, 1663.

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