CHAPTER IV

MILTON AND GALILEO

After the death of his mother, which occurred in 1637, Milton expressed

a desire to visit the Continent, where there were many places of

interest which he often longed to see. Having obtained the consent of

his kind and indulgent father, he set out on his travels in April 1638,

accompanied by a single man-servant, and arrived in Paris, where he only

stayed a few days. During his residence in the French capital he was

introduced by Lord Scudamore, the English Ambassador at the Court of

Versailles, to Hugo Grotius, one of the most distinguished scholars and

philosophic thinkers of his age. From Paris Milton journeyed to Nice,

where he first beheld the beauty of Italian scenery and the classic

shores of the Mediterranean Sea. From Nice he sailed to Genoa and

Leghorn, and after a short stay at those places continued his journey to

Florence, one of the most interesting and picturesque of Italian cities.

Situated in the Valley of the Arno, and encircled by sloping hills

covered with luxuriant vegetation, the sides of which were studded with

residences half-hidden among the foliage of gardens and vineyards,

Florence, besides being famed for its natural beauty, was at that time

the centre of Italian culture and learning, and the abode of men eminent

in literature and science. Here Milton remained for a period of two

months, and enjoyed the friendship and hospitality of its most noted

citizens, many of whom delighted to honour their English visitor. He was

warmly welcomed by the members of the various literary academies, who

admired his compositions and conversation; the flattering encomiums

bestowed upon him by those learned societies having been amply repaid by

Milton in choice and elegant Latin verse.

Among those who resided in the vicinity of Florence was the illustrious

Galileo, who in his sorrow-stricken old age was held a prisoner of the

Inquisition for having upheld and taught scientific doctrines which were

declared to be heretical. After his abjuration he was committed to

prison, but on the intervention of influential friends was released

after a few days' incarceration, and permitted to return to his home at

Arcetri. He was, however, kept under strict surveillance, and forbidden

to leave his house or receive any of his intimate friends without having

first obtained the sanction of the ecclesiastical authorities. After

several years of close confinement at Arcetri, during which time he

suffered much from rheumatism and continued ill-health, aggravated by

grief and mental depression consequent upon the death of his favourite

daughter, Galileo applied for permission to go to Florence in order to

place himself under medical treatment. This request was granted by the

Pope subject to certain conditions, which would be communicated to him

when he presented himself at the office of the Inquisition at Florence.

These were more severe than he anticipated. He was forbidden to leave

his house or receive any of his friends there, and those injunctions

were so strictly adhered to that during Passion Week he had to obtain a

special order so that he might be able to attend mass. At the expiration

of a few months Galileo was ordered to return to Arcetri, which he never

left again.

An affliction, perhaps the most deplorable that can happen to any human

being, was added to the burden of Galileo's misfortunes and woes. A

disorder which had some years previously injured the sight of his right

eye returned in 1636. In the following year the left eye became

similarly affected, with the result that in a few months Galileo became

totally blind. His friends at first hoped that the disease was cataract,

and that some relief might be afforded by means of an operation; but it

was discovered to be an opacity of the cornea, which at his age was

considered unamenable to treatment. This sudden and unexpected calamity

was to Galileo a most deplorable occurrence, for it necessitated the

relinquishment of his favourite pursuit, which he followed with such

intense interest and delight. His friend Castelli writes: 'The noblest

eye is darkened which Nature ever made; an eye so privileged, and gifted

with such rare qualities that it may with truth be said to have seen

more than all of those eyes who are gone, and to have opened the eyes of

all who are to come.' Galileo endured his affliction with patient

resignation and fortitude, and in the following extract from a letter by

him he acknowledges the chastening hand of a Divine Providence: 'Alas!

your dear friend and servant Galileo has become totally blind, so that

this heaven, this earth, this universe, which with wonderful

observations I had enlarged a hundred and a thousand times beyond the

belief of bygone ages, henceforward for me is shrunk into the narrow

space which I myself fill in it. So it pleases God; it shall then please

me also.' The rigorous curtailment of his liberty which prompted Galileo

to head his letters, 'From my prison at Arcetri,' was relaxed when total

blindness had supervened upon the infirmities of age. Permission was

given him to receive his friends, and he was allowed to have free

intercourse with his neighbours.

Milton, during his stay at Florence, visited Galileo at Arcetri. We are

ignorant of the details of this eventful and interesting interview

between the aged and blind astronomer and the young English poet, who

afterwards immortalised his name in heroic verse, and who in his

declining years suffered from an affliction similar to that which befel

Galileo, and to which he alludes so pathetically in the following

lines:--

Thee I revisit safe,

And feel thy sovran vital lamp; but thou

Revisitest not these eyes, that roll in vain

To find thy piercing ray, and find no dawn;

So thick a drop serene hath quenched their orbs,

Or dim suffusion veiled.--iii. 21-26.

We can imagine that Galileo's astronomical views, which at that time

were the subject of much discussion among scientific men and professors

of religion, and on account of which he suffered persecution, were

eagerly discussed. It is also probable that the information communicated

by Galileo, or by some of his followers, may have persuaded Milton to

entertain a more favourable opinion of the Copernican theory. The

interesting discoveries made by Galileo with his telescope without doubt

formed a pleasant subject of conversation, and Milton enjoyed the

privilege of listening to a detailed description of these from the lips

of the aged astronomer. The telescope, its principle, its mechanism, and

the method of observing, were most probably explained to him; and we can

believe that an opportunity was afforded him of examining those in

Galileo's observatory, and of perhaps testing their magnifying power

upon some celestial object favourably situated for observation. Though

Milton has not favoured us with any details of his visit to Galileo, yet

it was one which made a lasting impression upon his mind, and was never

afterwards forgotten by him. 'There it was,' he writes, 'I found and

visited the famous Galileo, grown old, a prisoner of the Inquisition for

thinking in astronomy otherwise than the Franciscan and Dominican

licensers thought.' In years long after, when Milton, himself feeble

and blind, sat down to compose his 'Paradise Lost,' the remembrance of

the Tuscan artist and his telescope was still fresh in his memory.

By the invention of the telescope and its application to astronomical

research, a vast amount of information and additional detail have been

learned regarding the bodies which enter into the formation of the solar

system; and by its aid many new ones were also discovered. On sweeping

the heavens with the instrument, the illimitable extent of the sidereal

universe became apparent, and numberless objects of interest were

brought within the range of vision the existence of which had not been

previously imagined.

The Galilean telescope was invented in 1609. But the magnifying power of

certain lenses, and their combination in producing singular visual

effects, are alluded to in the writings of several early authors. The

value of single lenses as an aid to sight had been long known, and

spectacles were in common use in the fourteenth century. Several

mathematicians have described the wonderful optical results obtained

from glasses concave and convex, of parabolic and circular forms, and

from 'perspective glasses,' in which were embodied the principle of the

telescope. It is asserted that our countryman, Roger Bacon (1214), had

some notion of the properties of the telescope; but among those familiar

with the combination of lenses the two men who made the nearest approach

to the invention of the instrument were Baptista Porta and Gerolamo

Fracastro. The latter, who died in 1553, writes as follows: 'For which

reason those things which are seen at the bottom of water appear greater

than those which are at the top; and if anyone look through two

eye-glasses, one placed upon the other, he will see everything much

larger and nearer.' It is doubtful if Fracastro had any notion of

constructing a mechanism which might answer the purpose of a telescopic

tube. Baptista Porta (1611) is more explicit in what he describes. He

writes: 'Concave lenses show distant objects most clearly, convex those

which are nearer; whence they may be used to assist the sight. With a

concave glass distant objects will be seen, small, but distinct; with a

convex one, those near at hand, larger, but confused; if you know

_rightly_ how to combine one of each sort, you will see both far and

near objects larger and clearer.' He then goes on to say: 'I shall now

endeavour to show in what manner we may continue to recognise our

friends at the distance of several miles, and how those of weak sight

may read the most minute letters from a distance. It is an invention of

great utility, and grounded on optical principles; nor is at all

difficult of execution; but it must be so divulged as not to be

understood by the vulgar, and yet be clear to the sharp-sighted.' After

this, he proceeds to describe a mechanism the details of which are

confusing and unintelligible, nor did it appear to bear any resemblance

to a telescopic tube.

In a work published by Thomas Digges in 1591, he makes the following

allusion to his father's experiments with the lenses: 'My father, by his

continuall painfull practices, assisted with demonstrations

mathematicall, was able, and sundry times hath by proportionall glasses,

duely situate in convenient angles, not only discouered things farre

off, read letters, numbered peeces of money with the verye coyne and

superscription thereof cast by some of his freends of purpose, upon

downes in open fields; but also seuen miles off, declared what hath beene

doone at that instant in priuate places.' It must be admitted that if

Leonard Digges had not constructed a telescope, he knew how to combine

lenses by the aid of which a visual effect was created similar to that

produced by the use of the instrument.

The inventor of the telescope was a Dutchman named Hans Lippershey, who

carried on the business of a spectacle-maker in the town of Middelburg.

His discovery was purely accidental. It is said that the

instrument--which was directed towards a weather-cock on a church spire,

of which it gave a large and inverted image--was for some time exhibited

in his shop as a curiosity before its importance was recognised. The

Marquis Spinola, happening to see this philosophical toy, purchased it,

and presented it to Prince Maurice of Nassau, who imagined it might be

of service for the purpose of military reconnoitring. The value of the

invention was, however, soon realised, and in the following year

telescopes were sold in Paris. In 1609, Galileo, when on a visit to a

friend at Venice, received intelligence of the invention of an

instrument by a Dutch optician which possessed the power of causing

distant objects to appear much nearer than when observed by ordinary

vision. The accuracy of this information was confirmed by letters which

he received from Paris; and this general report, Galileo asserted, was

all he knew of the subject. Fuccarius, in a disparaging letter, says

that one of the Dutch telescopes had been brought to Venice, and that he

himself had seen it. This statement is not incompatible with Galileo's

affirmation that he had not seen the original instrument, and knew no

more about it than what had been communicated to him in the letters from

the French capital. It was insinuated by Fuccarius that Galileo had seen

the telescope at Venice, but, as he denied this, we should not hesitate

to believe in his veracity.

Immediately after his return to Padua, Galileo began to think how he

might be able to contrive an instrument with properties similar to the

one of which he had been informed; and in the following words describes

the process of reasoning by which he arrived at a successful result: 'I

argued in the following manner. The contrivance consists either of one

glass or of more--one is not sufficient, since it must be either convex,

concave, or plane. The last does not produce any sensible alteration in

objects; the concave diminishes them. It is true that the convex

magnifies, but it renders them confused and indistinct; consequently,

one glass is insufficient to produce the desired effect. Proceeding to

consider two glasses, and bearing in mind that the plane causes no

change, I determined that the instrument could not consist of the

combination of a plane glass with either of the other two. I therefore

applied myself to make experiments on combinations of the two other

kinds, and thus obtained that of which I was in search.' Galileo's

telescope consisted of two lenses--one plano-convex, the other

plano-concave, the latter being held next the eye. These he fixed in a

piece of organ pipe, which served the purpose of a tube, the glasses

being distant from each other by the difference of their focal lengths.

An exactly similar principle is adopted in the construction of an

opera-glass, which can be accurately described as a double Galilean

telescope. Galileo must be regarded as the inventor of this kind of

telescope, which in one respect differed very materially from the one

constructed by the Dutch optician. If what has been said with regard to

the _inverted_ weather-cock be true, then Lippershey's telescope was

made with two convex lenses, distant from each other by the sum of their

focal lengths, and all objects observed with it were seen inverted.

Refracting astronomical telescopes are now constructed on this

principle, it having been discovered that for observational purposes

they possess several advantages over the Galilean instrument. When

Galileo had completed his first telescope he returned with it to

Venice, where he exhibited it to his friends. The sensation created by

this small instrument, which magnified only three times, was most

extraordinary, and almost amounted to a frenzy. Crowds of the principal

citizens of Venice flocked to Galileo's house in order that they might

see the magical tube about which such wonderful reports were circulated;

and for upwards of a month he was daily occupied in describing his

invention to attentive audiences. At the expiration of this time the

Doge of Venice, Leonardo Deodati, hinted that the Senate would not be

averse to receive the telescope as a gift. Galileo readily acquiesced

with this desire, and, as an acknowledgment of his merits, a decree was

issued confirming his appointment as professor at Padua for life, and

increasing his salary from 500 to 1,000 florins. The public excitement

created by the telescope showed no signs of abatement. Sirturi mentions

that, having succeeded in constructing an instrument, he ascended the

tower of St. Mark's at Venice, hoping to be able to use it there without

interruption. He was, however, detected by a few individuals, and soon

surrounded by a crowd, which took possession of his telescope, and

detained him for several hours until their curiosity was satisfied.

Eager inquiries having been made as to where he lodged, Sirturi, fearing

a repetition of his experience in the church tower, decided to quit

Venice early next morning, and betake himself to a quieter and less

frequented neighbourhood.

The instrument was at first called Galileo's tube; the double eye-glass;

the perspective; the trunk; the cylinder. The appellation _telescope_

was given it by Demisiano.

Galileo next directed his attention to the construction of telescopes,

and applied his mechanical skill in making instruments of a larger size,

one of which magnified _eight_ times. 'And at length,' he writes,

'sparing neither labour nor expense, he completed an instrument that was

capable of magnifying more than _thirty_ times.'

Galileo now commenced an exploration of the celestial regions with his

telescope, and on carefully examining some of the heavenly bodies, made

many wonderful discoveries which added greatly to the fame and lustre of

his name.

The first celestial object to which Galileo directed his telescope was

the Moon. He was deeply interested to find how much her surface

resembled that of the Earth, and was able to perceive lofty mountain

ranges, the illumined peaks of which reflected the sunlight, whilst

their bases and sides were still enveloped in dark shadow; great plains

which he imagined were seas, valleys, elevated ridges, depressions, and

inequalities similar to what are found on our globe. Galileo believed

the Moon to be a habitable world, and concluded that the dark and

luminous portions of her surface were land and water, which reflected

with unequal intensity the light of the Sun. The followers of Aristotle

received the announcement of these discoveries with much displeasure.

They maintained that the Moon was perfectly spherical and smooth--a vast

mirror, the dark portions of which were the reflection of our

terrestrial mountains and forests--and accused Galileo 'of taking a

delight in distorting and ruining the fairest works of Nature.' He

appealed to the unequal condition of the surface of our globe, but this

was of no avail in altering their preconceived notions of the lunar

surface.

Perhaps the most important discovery made by Galileo with the telescope

was that of the four moons of Jupiter. On the night of January 7, 1610,

when engaged in observing the planet, his attention was attracted by

three small stars which appeared brighter than those in their immediate

neighbourhood. They were all in a straight line and parallel with the

ecliptic; two of them were situated to the east, and one to the west of

Jupiter. On the following night he was surprised to find all three to

the west of the planet, and nearer to each other. This caused him

considerable perplexity, and he was at a loss to understand how Jupiter

could be east of the three stars, when on the preceding night he was

observed to the west of two of them. Galileo was unable to reconcile the

altered positions of those bodies with the apparent motion of Jupiter

among the fixed stars as indicated by the astronomical tables. The next

opportunity he had of observing them was on the 10th, when two stars

only were visible, and they were to the east of the planet. As it was

impossible for Jupiter to move from west to east on January 8 and from

east to west on the 10th, he concluded that it was the motion of the

stars and not that of Jupiter which accounted for the observed

phenomena. Galileo watched the stars attentively on successive evenings

and discovered a fourth, and on observing how they changed their

positions relatively to each other he soon arrived at the conclusion

that the stars were four moons which revolved round Jupiter after the

manner in which the Moon revolves round the Earth. Having assured

himself that the four new stars were four moons that with periodical

regularity circled round the great planet, Galileo named them the

Medicean Stars in honour of his patron, Cosmo de' Medici, Grand Duke of

Tuscany. He also published an essay entitled 'Nuncius Sidereus,' or the

'Sidereal Messenger,' which contained an account of this important

discovery.

The announcement of Galileo's discovery of the four satellites of

Jupiter created a profound sensation, and its significance became at

once apparent. Aristotelians and Ptolemaists received the information

with much disfavour and incredulity, and many persons positively refused

to believe Galileo, whom they accused of inventing fables. On the other

hand, the upholders of the Copernican theory hailed it with

satisfaction, as it declared that Jupiter with his four moons

constituted a system of greater magnitude and importance than that of

our globe with her single satellite, and that consequently the Earth

could not be regarded as the centre of the universe.

When Kepler heard of this remarkable discovery, he wrote to Galileo and

expressed himself in the following characteristic manner: 'I was sitting

idle at home thinking of you, most excellent Galileo, and your letters,

when the news was brought me of the discovery of four planets by the

help of the double eye-glass. Wachenfels stopped his carriage at my door

to tell me, when such a fit of wonder seized me at a report which seemed

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.... I

am so far from disbelieving in the existence of the four circumjovial

planets, that I long for a telescope to anticipate you, if possible, in

discovering two round Mars (as the proportion seems to me to require),

six or eight round Saturn, and perhaps one each round Mercury and

Venus.' The intelligence of Galileo's discoveries was received by his

opponents in a spirit entirely different from that manifested by Kepler.

The principal professor of philosophy at Padua, when requested to look

at the Moon and planets through Galileo's glass, persistently declined,

and did his utmost to persuade the Grand Duke that the four satellites

of Jupiter could not possibly exist. Francesco Sizzi, a Florentine

astronomer, argued that, as there are seven apertures in the head,

seven known metals, and seven days in the week, so there could only be

seven planets. To these absurd remarks Galileo replied by saying that,

'whatever their force might be as a reason for believing beforehand that

no more than seven planets would be discovered, they hardly seemed of

sufficient weight to destroy the new ones when actually seen.' Another

individual, named Christmann, writes: 'We are not to think that Jupiter

has four satellites given him by Nature in order, by revolving round

him, to immortalize the name of the Medici, who first had notice of the

observation. These are the dreams of idle men, who love ludicrous ideas

better than our laborious and industrious correction of the heavens.

Nature abhors so horrible a chaos, and to the truly wise such vanity is

detestable.' Martin Horky, a _protege_ of Kepler's, issued a pamphlet in

which he made a violent attack on Galileo. He says: 'I will never

concede his four new planets to that Italian from Padua though I die for

it.' He then asks the following questions, and replies to them himself:

(1) Whether they exist? (2) What they are? (3) What they are like? (4)

Why they are? 'The first question is soon disposed of by Horky's

declaring positively that he has examined the heavens with Galileo's own

glass, and that no such thing as a satellite about Jupiter exists. To

the second, he declared solemnly that he does not more surely know that

he has a soul in his body than that reflected rays are the sole cause of

Galileo's erroneous observations. In regard to the third question, he

says that these planets are like the smallest fly compared to an

elephant; and, finally, concludes on the fourth, that the only use of

them is to gratify Galileo's "thirst of gold," and to afford himself a

subject of discussion.'[7] Galileo did not condescend to take any notice

of this scurrilous production; but Horky, who imagined that he had done

something clever, sent a copy of his pamphlet to Kepler. In a few days

after he called to see him, and was received with such a storm of

indignation that he begged for mercy and implored his forgiveness.

Kepler forgave him, but insisted on his making amends. He writes: 'I

have taken him again into favour upon this preliminary condition, to

which he has agreed--that I am to show him Jupiter's satellites, _and he

is to see them_, and own that they are there.'

The evidence in support of the existence of Jupiter's satellites became

so conclusive that the opponents of Galileo were compelled to renounce

their disbelief in those bodies, whether real or pretended. The Grand

Duke, preferring to trust to his eyes rather than believe in the

arguments of the professor at Padua, observed the satellites on several

occasions, along with Galileo, at Pisa, and on his departure bestowed

upon him a gift of one thousand florins. Several of Galileo's enemies,

as a result of their observations, now arrived at the conclusion that

his discovery was incomplete, and that Jupiter had more than four

satellites in attendance upon him. Scheiner counted five, Rheita nine,

and other observers increased the number to twelve. But it was found to

be quite as hazardous to exceed the number stated by Galileo as it was

to deny the existence of any; for, when Jupiter had traversed a short

distance of his path among the fixed stars, the only bodies that

accompanied him were his four original attendants, which continued to

revolve round him with unerring regularity in every part of his orbit.

Galileo did not afford his opponents much time to oppose or controvert

with argument the discoveries made by him with the telescope before his

announcement of a new one attracted public attention from those already

known. He, however, exercised greater caution in disclosing the results

of his observations, as other persons laid claim to having made similar

discoveries prior to the time at which his were announced. He therefore

adopted a method in common use among astronomers in those days, by which

the letters in a sentence announcing a discovery were transposed so as

to form an anagram.

Galileo announced his next discovery in this manner, and which read as

follows:--

Smaismrmilme poeta leumi bvne nugttaviras.

This, when deciphered, formed the sentence:--

Altissimum planetam tergeminum observavi.

I have observed that the remotest planet is triple.

Galileo perceived that Saturn presented a triform appearance, and that,

instead of one body, there were three, all in a straight line, and

apparently in contact with each other, the middle one being larger than

the two lateral ones. In a letter to Kepler he remarked: 'Now I have

discovered a Court for Jupiter, and two servants for this old man, who

aid his steps and never quit his side.' Kepler, who excelled as an

imaginative writer, replied: 'I will not make an old man of Saturn, nor

slaves of his attendant globes; but rather let this tricorporate form be

Geryon--so shall Galileo be Hercules, and the telescope his club, armed

with which he has conquered that distant planet, and dragged him from

the remotest depths of Nature, and exposed him to the view of all.'

Continuing his observations, Galileo perceived that the two lateral

objects gradually decreased in size, and at the expiration of two years

entirely disappeared, leaving the central globe visible only. He was

unable to assign any reason for this peculiar occurrence, which caused

him much perplexity, and he expresses himself thus: 'What is to be said

concerning so strange a metamorphosis? Are the two lesser stars consumed

after the manner of the solar spots? Have they vanished and suddenly

fled? Has Saturn, perhaps, devoured his own children? Or were the

appearances, indeed, illusion or fraud, with which the glasses have so

long deceived me, as well as many others to whom I have shown them? Now,

perhaps, is the time to revive the well-nigh withered hopes of those

who, guided by more profound contemplations, have discovered the fallacy

of the new observations, and demonstrated the utter impossibility of

their existence. I do not know what to say in a case so surprising, so

unlooked-for, and so novel. The shortness of the time, the unexpected

nature of the event, the weakness of my understanding, and the fear of

being mistaken, have greatly confounded me.' After a certain interval

those bodies reappeared; but Galileo's glass was not sufficiently

powerful to enable him to ascertain their nature nor solve the mystery,

which for upwards of half a century perplexed the ablest astronomers.

The elucidation of this inexplicable phenomenon was reserved for

Christian Huygens, who, with an improved telescope of his own

construction, was able to declare that Saturn's appendages were portions

of a ring which surrounds the planet, and is everywhere distinct from

its surface.

Galileo next directed his attention to the planet Venus, and as a result

of his observations was led to communicate to the public another

anagram:--

Haec immatura a me jam frustra leguntur oy.

This, when rendered correctly, reads:--

Cynthiae figuras aemulatur mater amorum.

Venus rivals the appearances of the Moon.

The phases of Venus were one of the most interesting of Galileo's

discoveries with the telescope. When observed near inferior conjunction

the planet presents the appearance of a slender crescent, resembling

the Moon when a few days old. Travelling from this point to superior

conjunction, the illumined portion of her disc gradually increases,

until it becomes circular, like the full Moon. This changing appearance

of Venus afforded Galileo irresistible proof that the planet is an

opaque body, which derives its light from the Sun, and that it circles

round the orb--convincing evidence of the accuracy and truthfulness of

the Copernican theory.

It was in this manner that Galileo announced his discovery of the phases

of Venus, the peerless planet of our morning and evening skies, whose

slender crescent forms such a beautiful object in the telescope, and

who, as she traverses her orbit, exhibits all the varied changes of form

presented by the Moon in her monthly journey round the Earth. These

varying aspects of Venus were not unknown to Milton; and, indeed, he may

have been informed of them by Galileo in his conversation with him at

Arcetri; nor has he failed to introduce an allusion to this beautiful

phenomenon in his poem. In his description of the Creation, after the

Sun was formed, he adds:--

Hither, as to their fountain, other stars

Repairing, in their golden urns draw light,

And hence the morning planet gilds her horns.--vii. 364-66.

Galileo also discovered that the planet Mars does not always present the

appearance of a circular disc. When near opposition the full disc of the

planet is visible, but at all other times it is gibbous, and approaches

nearest to that of a half-moon when at the quadratures.

In the year 1610, on directing his telescope to the Sun, Galileo

detected dark spots on the solar disc. Similar spots, sufficiently large

to be distinguished by the naked eye, had been observed from time to

time for centuries prior to the invention of the telescope, but nothing

was known of their nature. In 1609 Kepler observed a spot on the Sun,

which he thought was the planet Mercury in conjunction with the orb; the

short time during which it was visible, in consequence of clouds having

obscured the face of the luminary, prevented him from being able to

determine the accuracy of his surmise, but since then it has been

ascertained that no transit of Mercury took place at that time, and

Kepler afterwards acknowledged that he had arrived at an erroneous

conclusion. Galileo was much puzzled in trying to find out the true

nature of the spots. At first he was led to imagine that planets like

Mercury and Venus revolved round the Sun at a short distance from the

orb, and that their dark bodies, travelling across the solar disc, gave

rise to the phenomenon of the spots. After further observation, he

ascertained that the spots were in actual contact with the Sun; that

they were irregular in shape and size, and continued to appear and

disappear. Sometimes a large spot would break up into several smaller

ones, and at other times three or four small spots would unite to form a

large one. They all had a common motion, and appeared to rotate with

the Sun, from which Galileo concluded that the orb rotated on his axis

in about twenty-eight days. Galileo believed that the spots were clouds

floating in the solar atmosphere, and that they intercepted a portion of

the light of the Sun.

The Milky Way, that wondrous zone of light which encircles the heavens,

remained for many ages a source of perplexity to ancient astronomers and

philosophers, who, in their endeavours to ascertain its nature, had

arrived at various absurd and erroneous conclusions. On directing his

telescope to this luminous tract, Galileo discovered, to his

inexpressible admiration, that it consists of a vast multitude of stars,

too minute to be visible to the naked eye. He also discerned that its

milky luminosity is created by the blended light of myriads of stars, so

remote as to be incapable of definition by his telescope. In his

'Nuncius Sidereus' he gives an account of his observations of the Galaxy

and expresses his satisfaction that he has been enabled to terminate an

ancient controversy by demonstrating to the senses the stellar structure

of the Milky Way. When engaged in exploring the celestial regions with

his telescope, Galileo observed a marked difference in the appearance of

the fixed stars, as compared with that of the planets. Each of the

latter showed a rounded disc resembling that of a small moon, but the

stars exhibited no disc, and shone as vivid sparkling points of light;

all of them, whether of large or small magnitude, presenting the same

appearance in the telescope. This led him to conclude that the fixed

stars were not illumined by the Sun, because their brilliancy in all

their changes of position remained unaltered. But, in the case of the

planets, he found that their lustre varied according to their distance

from the Sun; consequently, he believed they were opaque bodies which

reflected the solar rays. On directing his telescope to the Pleiades,

which, to the naked eye, appear as a group of seven stars, he succeeded

in counting forty lucid points. The nebula Praesepe in Cancer, he was

also able to resolve into a cluster of stars. Galileo made many other

observations of the heavenly bodies with his telescope, all of which he

describes as having afforded him 'incredible delight.'

Shortly before the failure of his eyesight, Galileo discovered the

Moon's diurnal libration, a variation in the visible edges of the Moon

caused by its oscillatory motion, and the diurnal rotation of the Earth

on her axis.

Though Milton has not favoured us with any interesting details of his

interview with Galileo, nor expressed his opinions with regard to the

controversies which at that time agitated both the religious and

scientific worlds of thought, and which eventually culminated in a storm

of rancour and hatred that burst over the devoted head of the aged

astronomer, and brought him to his knees, yet he informs us that he

'found and visited' Galileo, whom he describes as 'grown old,' and

cynically remarks that he 'was held a prisoner of the Inquisition for

thinking in astronomy otherwise than the Franciscan and Dominican

licensers thought.' Milton does not allude to his blindness, and yet it

would be natural to imagine that, had his host suffered from this

affliction at the time of his visit, he would have referred to it. We

learn that Milton arrived in Italy in the spring of 1638. In 1637, the

affection which, in the preceding year, deprived Galileo of the use of

his right eye, attacked the left also, which began to grow dim, and in

the course of a few months became sightless; so that, although Milton

has not alluded to this calamity, Galileo had become totally blind at

the time of his visit.

How much Milton was impressed with the fame of Galileo and his telescope

becomes apparent on referring to his 'Paradise Lost.' In it he alludes

to the instrument upon three different occasions, twice when in the

hands of Galileo; and the remembrance of the same artist was doubtless

in his mind when he mentions the 'glazed optic tube' in another part of

his poem. The interval that elapsed from the date of Milton's visit to

Galileo in 1638, to the publication of 'Paradise Lost' in 1667, included

a period of about thirty years, yet this length of time did not erase

from Milton's memory his recollection of Galileo and of his pleasant

sojourn at Florence.

The first allusion in the poem to the Italian astronomer is in the lines

in which Milton describes the shield carried by Satan:--

The broad circumference

Hung on his shoulders like the Moon, whose orb

Through optic glass the Tuscan artist views

At evening, from the top of Fesole,

Or in Valdarno, to descry new lands,

Rivers, or mountains, in her spotty globe.--i. 286-91.

Galileo is described as having observed the Moon from the heights of

Fesole, which formed part of the suburbs of Florence, or from Valdarno,

the valley of the Arno, in which the city is situated. The belief that

Galileo had discovered continents and seas on the Moon justified Milton

in imagining the existence of rivers and mountains on the lunar surface.

The expression 'spotty globe' is more descriptive of the appearance of

our satellite when observed with the telescope, than when seen with the

naked eye. Galileo's attention was attracted by the freckled aspect of

the Moon--a visual effect created by the number of extinct volcanoes

scattered over the surface of the orb.

In his next allusion to the telescope Milton associates Galileo's name

with the instrument:--

As when by night the glass

Of Galileo, less assured, observes

Imagined lands and regions in the Moon.--v. 261-63.

In these lines Milton describes with accuracy the extent of Galileo's

knowledge of our satellite. The conclusions which the Italian astronomer

arrived at with regard to its habitability were not supported by

telescopic evidence sufficient to justify such a belief. Galileo writes:

'Had its surface been absolutely smooth it would have been but a vast,

unblessed desert, void of animals, of plants, of cities and men; the

abode of silence and inaction--senseless, lifeless, soulless, and

stripped of all those ornaments which now render it so variable and so

beautiful:'--

There lands the Fiend, a spot like which perhaps

Astronomer in the Sun's lucent orb

Through his glazed optic tube yet never saw.--iii. 588-90.

Milton may have remembered that Galileo was the first astronomer who

directed a telescope to the Sun; and that he discovered the dark spots

frequently seen on the solar disc.

Anyone who has read a history of the life of Galileo, and contemplated

the career of this remarkable man, his ardent struggles in the cause of

freedom and philosophic truth, his victories and reverses, his brilliant

astronomical discoveries, and his investigation of the laws of motion,

and other natural phenomena, will arrive at the conclusion that he

merited the distinction conferred upon him by our great English poet,

when he included him among the renowned few whose names are found in the

pages of 'Paradise Lost.'

The Astronomy of Milton's 'Paradise Lost' · 第 4 / 9 章