There were other discoveries announced in Galileo's book of great and unprecedented importance, and which scarcely excited less discussion than the controverted MedicÆan planets. His observations on the moon threw additional light on the constitution of the solar system, and cleared up the difficulties which encumbered the explanation of the varied appearance of her surface. The different theories current at that day, to account for these phenomena, are collected and described by Benedetti, and also with some liveliness, in a mythological poem, by Marini. Galileo's glass taught him to believe that the surface of this planet, far from being smooth and polished, as was generally taken for granted, really resembled our earth in its structure; he was able distinctly to trace on it the outlines of mountains and other inequalities, the summits of which reflected the rays of the sun before these reached the lower parts, and the sides of which, turned from his beams, lay buried in deep shadow. He recognised a distribution into something similar to continents of land, and oceans of water, which reflect the sun's light to us with greater or less vivacity, according to their constitution. These conclusions were utterly odious to the Aristotelians; they had formed a preconceived notion of what the moon ought to be, and they loathed the doctrines of Galileo, who took delight, as they said, in distorting and ruining the fairest works of nature. It was in vain he argued, as to the imaginary perfection of the spherical form, that although the moon, or the earth, were it absolutely smooth, would indeed be a more perfect sphere than in its present rough state, yet touching the perfection of the earth, considered as a natural body calculated for a particular purpose, every one must see that absolute smoothness and sphericity would make it not only less perfect, but as far from being perfect as possible. "What else," he demanded, "would it be but a vast unblessed desert, void of animals, of plants, of cities and of men; the abode of silence and inaction; senseless, lifeless, soulless, and stript of all those ornaments which make it now so various and so beautiful?" He reasoned to no purpose with the slaves of the ancient schools: nothing could console them for the destruction of their smooth unalterable surface, and to such an absurd length was this hallucination carried, that one opponent of Galileo, Lodovico delle Colombe, constrained to allow the evidence of the sensible inequalities of the moon's surface, attempted to reconcile the old doctrine with the new observations, by asserting, that every part of the moon, which to the terrestrial observer appeared hollow and sunken, was in fact entirely and exactly filled up with a clear crystal substance, perfectly imperceptible by the senses, but which restored to the moon her accurately spherical and smooth surface. Galileo met the argument in the manner most fitting, according to one of Aristotle's own maxims, that "it is foolish to refute absurd opinions with too much curiosity." "Truly," says he, "the idea is admirable, its only fault is that it is neither demonstrated nor demonstrable; but I am perfectly ready to believe it, provided that, with equal courtesy, I may be allowed to raise upon your smooth surface, crystal mountains (which nobody can perceive) ten times higher than those which I have actually seen and measured." By threatening to proceed to such extremities, he seems to have scared the opposite party into moderation, for we do not find that the crystalline theory was persevered in. In the same essay, Galileo also explained at some length the cause of that part of the moon being visible, which is unenlightened directly by the sun in her first and last quarter. Maestlin, and before him Leonardo da Vinci, had already declared this to arise from what may be called earthshine, or the reflection Galileo also announced the detection of innumerable stars, invisible to the unassisted sight; and those remarkable appearances in the heavens, generally called nebulÆ, the most considerable of which is familiar to all under the name of the milky way, when examined by his instrument, were found to resolve themselves into a vast collection of minute stars, too closely congregated to produce a separate impression upon the unassisted eye. The Anti-Copernicans would probably have been well pleased, if by these eternally renewed discussions and disputes, they could have occupied Galileo's time sufficiently to detain his attention from his telescope and astronomical observations; but he knew too well where his real strength lay, and they had scarcely time to compound any thing like an argument against him and his theories, before they found him in possession of some new facts, which they were unprepared to meet, otherwise than by the never-failing resource of abuse and affected contempt. The year had not expired before Galileo had new intelligence to communicate of the highest importance. Perhaps he had been taught caution from the numerous piracies which had been committed upon his discoveries, and he first announced his new discoveries enigmatically, veiling their real import by transpositions of the letters in the words which described them, (a practice then common, and not disused even at a much later date,) and inviting all astronomers to declare, within a certain time, if they had noted any thing new in the heavens worthy of observation. The transposed letters which he published were— "Smaismrmilme poeta leumi bvne nugttaviras." Kepler, in the true spirit of his riddling philosophy, endeavoured to decypher the meaning, and fancied he had succeeded when he formed a barbarous Latin verse, "Salve umbistineum geminatum Martia proles," conceiving that the discovery, whatever it might be, related to the planet Mars, to which Kepler's attention had before been particularly directed. The reader, however, need not weary himself in seeking a translation of this solution, for at the request of the Emperor Rodolph, Galileo speedily sent to him the real reading— Altissimum planetam tergeminum observavi; that is, "I have observed that the most distant planet is triple," or, as he further explains the matter, "I have with great admiration observed that Saturn is not a single star, but three together, which as it were touch each other; they have no relative motion, and are constituted in this form oOo the middle being somewhat larger than the lateral ones. If we examine them with an eye-glass which magnifies the surface less than 1000 times, the three stars do not appear very distinctly, but Saturn has an oblong appearance, like the appearance of an olive, thus Saturn's appearance. Now I have discovered a court for Jupiter, and two servants for this old man, who aid his Galileo's second statement concluded with the remark, that "in the other planets nothing new was to be observed;" but a month had scarcely elapsed, before he communicated to the world another enigma, HÆc immatura À me jam frustra leguntur oy, which, as he said, contained the announcement of a new phenomenon, in the highest degree important to the truth of the Copernican system. The interpretation of this is, CynthiÆ figuras Æmulatur mater amorum, that is to say,—Venus rivals the appearances of the moon—for Venus being now arrived at that part of her orbit in which she is placed between the earth and the sun, and consequently, with only a part of her enlightened surface turned towards the earth, the telescope shewed her in a crescent form, like the moon in a similar position, and tracing her through the whole of her orbit round the sun, or at least so long as she was not invisible from his overpowering light, Galileo had the satisfaction of seeing the enlightened portion in each position assume the form appropriate to that hypothesis. It was with reason, therefore, that he laid stress on the importance of this observation, which also established another doctrine scarcely less obnoxious to the Anti-Copernicans, namely, that a new point of resemblance was here found between the earth and one of the principal planets; and as the reflection from the earth upon the moon had shewn it to be luminous like the planets when subjected to the rays of the sun, so this change of apparent figure demonstrated that one of the planets not near the earth, and therefore probably all, were in their own nature not luminous, and only reflected the sun's light which fell upon them; an inference, of which the probability was still farther increased a few years later by the observation of the transit of Mercury over the sun's disc. It is curious that only twenty-five years before this discovery of the phases (or appearances) of Venus, a commentator of Aristotle, under the name of Lucillus PhilalthÆus, had advanced the doctrine that all the planets except the moon are luminous of themselves, and in proof of his assertion had urged, "that if the other planets and fixed stars received their light from the sun, they would, as they approached and receded from him, or as he approached and receded from them, assume the same phases as the moon, which, he adds, we have never yet observed."—He further remarks, "that Mercury and Venus would, in the supposed case of their being nearer the earth than the sun, eclipse it occasionally, just as eclipses are occasioned by the moon." Perhaps it is still more remarkable, that these very passages, in which the reasoning is so correct, though the facts are too hastily taken for granted, (the common error of that school,) are quoted by Benedetti, expressly to shew the ignorance and presumption of the author. Copernicus, whose want of instruments had prevented him from observing the horned appearance of Venus when between the earth and sun, had perceived how formidable an obstacle the non-appearance of this phenomenon presented to his system; he endeavoured, though unsatisfactorily, to account for it by supposing that the rays of the sun passed freely through the body of the planet, and Galileo takes occasion to praise him for not being deterred from Hither, as to their fountain, other stars Repairing, in their golden urns draw light, And hence the morning planet gilds her horns. Galileo also assured himself, at the same time, that the fixed stars did not receive their light from the sun. This he ascertained by comparing the vividness of their light, in all positions, with the feebleness of that of the distant planets, and by observing the different degrees of brightness with which all the planets shone at different distances from the sun. The more remote planets did not, of course, afford equal facilities with Venus for so decisive an observation; but Galileo thought he observed, that when Mars was in quadratures, (or in the quarters, the middle points of his path on either side,) his figure varied slightly from a perfect circle. Galileo concludes the letter, in which he announces these last observations to his pupil Castelli, with the following expressions, shewing how justly he estimated the opposition they encountered:—"You almost make me laugh by saying that these clear observations are sufficient to convince the most obstinate: it seems you have yet to learn that long ago the observations were enough to convince those who are capable of reasoning, and those who wish to learn the truth; but that to convince the obstinate, and those who care for nothing beyond the vain applause of the stupid and senseless vulgar, not even the testimony of the stars would suffice, were they to descend on earth to speak for themselves. Let us then endeavour to procure some knowledge for ourselves, and rest contented with this sole satisfaction; but of advancing in popular opinion, or gaining the assent of the book-philosophers, let us abandon both the hope and the desire." FOOTNOTES:
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