Читать книгу Galileo’s Daughter: A Drama of Science, Faith and Love - Дава Собел - Страница 12
[VII] The malice of my persecutors
ОглавлениеGALILEO ISSUED HIS CALL for a distinction between questions of science and articles of faith at an anxious moment in Church history.
Stunned by the Protestant Reformation fomented in Germany around 1517, the Roman Church struck a defensive posture throughout the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries called the Counter-Reformation. The Church hoped quickly to close the rift that had split Protestantism from Catholicism by convening an ecumenical council, but intrigues and obstacles of all sorts – including disputes over where to stage the event – postponed the meeting for many years, while the rift continued to widen. Finally Pope Paul III (the same pontiff honoured in the dedication of Copernicus’s book) convened bishops, cardinals and leaders of religious orders at Trent, where Italy bordered the Holy Roman Empire of the German nation. On and off over a period of eighteen years, from 1545 to 1563, the Council of Trent debated and voted and ultimately drafted a series of decrees.* These dictated how the clergy were to be educated, for example, and who was empowered to interpret Holy Scripture. Rejecting Martin Luther’s insistence on the right to a personal reading of the Bible, the council declared in 1546 that ‘no one, relying on his own judgment and distorting the Sacred Scriptures according to his own conceptions, shall dare to interpret them’.
After the council finally concluded the twenty-five sessions of its long-drawn-out deliberations, its decrees became Church doctrine through a series of papal bulls (so named after the bulla, or round lead seal, affixed to pronouncements from the pope himself). In 1564, the year Galileo was born, certain important points from the debates were formulated into a profession of faith, worded by the Council of Trent and solemnly sworn over the ensuing decades by untold numbers of Church officials and other Catholics:
I most firmly accept and embrace the Apostolic and ecclesiastical traditions and the other observances and constitutions of the Church. I also accept Sacred Scripture in the sense in which it has been held, and is held, by Holy Mother Church, to whom it belongs to judge the true sense and interpretation of the Sacred Scripture, nor will I accept or interpret it in any way other than in accordance with the unanimous agreement of the Fathers.
Galileo’s Letter to the Grand Duchess Cristina indirectly charged his opponents with violating this oath by bending the Bible to their purposes. His opponents, on the other hand, judged Galileo guilty of the same crime. His only hope of winning the argument lay in producing proof positive for the Copernican system. Then, since no truth found in Nature could contradict the truth of Scripture, everyone would realise that the Fathers’ judgment about the placement of the heavenly bodies had been hasty, and required reinterpretation in the light of scientific discovery.
December 1615 thus brought Galileo to Rome brandishing new support for Copernicus – derived from observations of the Earth, not the heavens. The tidal motions of the great oceans, Galileo believed, bore constant witness that the planet really did spin through space. If the Earth stood still, then what could make its waters rush to and fro, rising and falling at regular intervals along the coasts? This view of the tides as the natural consequence of the turning Earth had originally occurred to him nearly twenty years previously, at Venice, when he boarded the barges that carried drinking water into the city from Lizzafusina. Watching the way the large cargoes of water sloshed in response to any changes in the ships’ speed or direction, he had found a model for the ebb and flow of the Adriatic and the Mediterranean.
Now, lodged at the Tuscan embassy in the Villa Medici, Galileo passed the early part of January 1616 setting down in writing for the first time his theory of the tides. His social life during this labour consisted of meeting with fifteen to twenty men at a time in the homes of various Roman hosts, where he argued Copernicus’s cause in his most compelling style. The nervous Tuscan ambassador, Piero Guicciardini, fairly choked through these evenings, for he dreaded the possible cost of Galileo’s actions.
‘He is passionately involved in this fight of his’, Guicciardini complained to the grand duke, ‘and he does not see or sense what it involves, with the result that he will be tripped up and will get himself into trouble, together with anyone who supports his views. For he is vehement and stubborn and very worked up in this matter and it is impossible, when he is around, to escape from his hands. And this business is not a joke, but may become of great consequence, and the man is here under our protection and responsibility.’
Galileo needed the evidence of the tides to support Copernicus because his astronomical findings to date had failed to prove the Earth’s motion. It was all very well to argue, as Galileo did, that a rotating, revolving Earth made for a more rational universe – that asking the innumerable, enormous stars to fly daily around the Earth at fantastic speeds was like climbing to a cupola to view the countryside and then expecting the landscape to revolve around one’s head. Such reasoning, however, said nothing about the way God had actually constructed the firmament.
Even Galileo’s discovery of the phases of Venus, which he had dealt as a death blow to the Ptolemaic system, did not constitute proof of the Copernican. The planetary system of Danish astronomer Tycho Brahe could take Venus by the horns and still enable the Earth to remain immobile. According to the Tychonic order, the five planets orbited the Sun, while the Sun – surrounded by Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter and Saturn – circled the stationary Earth. Although Tycho had based this theory on decades of careful observations, Galileo dismissed his plan as even sillier than the Ptolemaic. Since he could not prove the Copernican system by telescope alone, however, he turned to the tides to cement the case. He required the seas to rise to the rescue, not merely of Copernicus’s reputation or his own, but to preserve Italy’s future scientific pre-eminence and – most important – to protect the honour of the Catholic faith. For if the Holy Fathers banned Copernicus, as rumour predicted they might do at any moment, then the Church would endure ridicule when a new generation of telescopes, probably manned by infidels, eventually uncovered the conclusive evidence for the Sun-centred system.
The waters of the world occupy a moving vessel, Galileo wrote in his ‘Treatise on the Tides’. This vast container of water turns on its axis once every day and travels around the Sun once a year. The combination of the two Copernican motions accounts for all tides. The timing and magnitude of specific tides in different locations, however, depend also on many contingent factors, including the extent of each body of water (this was why ponds and small lakes lacked tides), its depth (and consequently the volume of fluid involved), the way it orients itself on the globe (since an east-west waterway like the Mediterranean experienced more dramatic tides than the nearly north-south Red Sea), and its nearness to other bodies of water (which proximity could cause powerful currents and floods, as at the Straits of Magellan where the Atlantic met the Pacific Ocean). Galileo, who never once left Italy, had gathered reports from far and wide to flesh out his explication.
‘To hold fast the basin of the Mediterranean and to make the water contained within it behave as it does surpasses my imagination,’ Galileo declared, ‘and perhaps that of anyone else who enters more than superficially into these reflections.’
But here, again, the fact that Galileo could not account for the tides without moving the Earth did not prove that the Earth moved. What’s more, his theory of the tides, though carefully crafted and eminently reasonable, was wrong. Throughout his life he ignored the true cause of the tides, which rise and fall by the pull of the Moon, because he failed to see how a body so far away could exert so much power. To him, the concept of ‘lunar influence’ smacked of occultism and astrology. Galileo occupied a universe without gravity.* As for the force that made moons orbit planets and planets orbit the Sun in Galileo’s cosmology, they might as well have been pushed around by angels.
Kepler, Galileo’s German contemporary, made the Moon the centrepiece of his own tidal theory. Kepler’s thinking, however, riddled with mystical allusions to the Moon’s affinity for water, alienated Galileo’s strictly logical mind. (Kepler had even posited intelligent beings on the Moon, as builders of the features observed from Earth.) What’s more, Galileo may have had some trepidation about relying on the testimony of a German Protestant.
Galileo presented his manuscript treatise on the tides to one of the newest cardinals in Rome, twenty-two-year-old Alessandro Orsini, a cousin of Grand Duke Cosimo. Galileo wanted Cardinal Orsini to pass the paper on to the current pope, Paul V, whose endorsement might help settle the issue. The young cardinal dutifully delivered the paper, but the sixty-three-year-old pontiff refused to read it. Instead, His Holiness pushed the moment to its crisis by convening expert consultors to decide once and for all whether the Copernican doctrine could be condemned as heretical.
The pope summoned his theological adviser, Roberto Cardinal Bellarmino, the pre-eminent Jesuit intellectual who had served as inquisitor in the trial of Giordano Bruno. Cardinal Bellarmino, the ‘hammer of the heretics’, had once confided to Prince Cesi of the Lyncean Academy that he personally considered the opinion of Copernicus heretical, and the motion of the Earth contrary to the Bible. (This admission prompted Cesi to wonder whether De revolutionibus would ever have been published had Copernicus lived after the Council of Trent, instead of before it.)
Bellarmino knew Galileo from meetings at social occasions over a period of some fifteen years, had viewed Jupiter’s moons through his telescope in 1611, and highly respected his achievements, which he could appreciate more than most, having studied astronomy himself at Florence. The only fault Cardinal Bellarmino found with Galileo was the man’s insistence on treating the Copernican model as a real-life scenario instead of a hypothesis. After all, there was no proof. The cardinal further opined that Galileo should stick to astronomy in public and not try to tell anyone how to interpret the Bible.
The Council of Trent, Cardinal Bellarmino took pains to point out, prohibited the interpretation of Scripture contrary to the common agreement of the Holy Fathers – all of whom, along with many modern commentators, understood the Bible to state clearly that the Sun travelled around the Earth. ‘The words “the Sun also riseth and the Sun goeth down, and hasteth to his place where he arose, etc.” were those of Solomon,’ Cardinal Bellarmino wrote,
who not only spoke by divine inspiration but was a man wise above all others and most learned in human sciences and in the knowledge of all created things, and his wisdom was from God. Thus it is not likely that he would affirm something which was contrary to a truth either already demonstrated, or likely to be demonstrated. And if you tell me that Solomon spoke only according to the appearances, and that it seems to us that the Sun goes around when actually it is the Earth which moves, as it seems to one on a ship that the shore moves away from the ship, I shall answer that though it may appear to a voyager as if the shore were receding from the vessel on which he stands rather than the vessel from the shore, yet he knows this to be an illusion and is able to correct it because he sees clearly that it is the ship and not the shore that is in movement. But as to the Sun and the Earth a wise man has no need to correct his judgment, for his experience tells him plainly that the Earth is standing still and that his eyes are not deceived when they report that the Sun, Moon and stars are in motion.
Galileo was still in Rome in February 1616 when the inevitable happened. At the request of Pope Paul V, who devoted his papacy to promulgating Council of Trent reforms, the cardinals of the Holy Office framed the Copernican argument as two propositions to be voted on by a panel of eleven theologians:
1 The Sun is the centre of the world, and consequently is immobile of local motion.
2 The Earth is not the centre of the world, nor is it immobile, but it moves as a whole and also with a diurnal motion.
The unanimous verdict of the panel pronounced the first idea not only ‘formally heretical’, in that it directly contradicted Holy Scripture, but also ‘foolish and absurd’ in philosophy. The theologians found the second concept equally shoddy philosophically, and ‘erroneous in faith’, meaning that although it did not gainsay the Bible in so many words, it nevertheless undermined a matter of faith.
The consultors cast their ballots on 23 February and reported their conclusions to the Holy Office of the Inquisition the following day. Although no public announcement came out of official chambers, Galileo got a special summons and personal notification of the outcome almost immediately.
On 26 February, two officers of the Inquisition came to collect him from the Tuscan embassy. They escorted him to the palace of Lord Cardinal Bellarmino, who personally met him at the door, holding his cap, as was his polite custom, and bade Galileo follow him to his chair. There he told Galileo about the independent panel’s ruling against the Sun’s placement at the centre of the universe. Speaking as the pope’s representative, Bellarmino admonished Galileo to abandon defending this opinion as fact. No record survives of Galileo’s spontaneous reaction to this dashing of all his hopeful efforts, but he doubtless bowed to the cardinal’s command.
Several other people showed up unexpectedly at the cardinal’s house to see Galileo, led by Father Michelangelo Seghizzi, the Dominican commissary general of the Holy Office of the Inquisition, who had been one of the eleven voting theologians on the recent panel. He also claimed to speak for the pope, telling Galileo to relinquish the opinion of Copernicus or else the Holy Office would proceed against him. Again Galileo acquiesced.
The following week, on 5 March, the Congregation of the Index published a proclamation that expounded the official position on Copernican astronomy – namely, that it was ‘false and contrary to Holy Scripture’. The decree also named names and called for action. It suspended Copernicus’s book until corrections were made in it, ‘so that this opinion may not spread any further to the prejudice of Catholic truth’. It also cited another book, by the Carmelite father Paolo Antonio Foscarini, who had enthusiastically supported Copernicus by quoting chapter and verse from both De revolutionibus and the Bible, to show how the two texts could be reconciled. Foscarini fared far worse than Copernicus in the decree, because his book was condemned outright – prohibited and destroyed. Nor did the dismal aftermath end there. The printer in Naples who had published Foscarini’s book was arrested soon after the March edict, and Father Foscarini died suddenly in early June, at the age of thirty-six.
Given the specificity of the edict, Galileo saw clearly that only the book attempting to square Copernicus with the Bible had been singled out for the harshest treatment. The two other books cited – that of Copernicus himself and another called On Job by Diego de Zuñiga – were merely suspended pending certain deletions and corrections. Galileo’s own book, the Sunspot Letters, which was also circulating at the time, escaped any mention in the edict, though it strongly supported Copernican astronomy. While Galileo had delved deeply into the Bible and its interpretation with his Letter to the Grand Duchess Cristina, this work had not yet been published; his ‘Treatise on the Tides’ likewise existed in manuscript only.
Having been omitted from the text of the edict, and having escaped any personal censure, Galileo brightened. True, the theory he defended had been condemned, but he emerged free to consider it hypothetically, and to nurture the hope that the decree might one day be repealed. He remained the pre-eminent figure in Italian science, as well as the representative of the Florentine House of Medici. Galileo stayed on in Rome another three months, during which time he met again with Cardinal Bellarmino and spent nearly an hour in a private audience with Pope Paul on II March.
‘I told His Holiness the reason for my coming to Rome,’ Galileo wrote home to the Tuscan secretary of state,
and made known to him the malice of my persecutors and some of their calumnies against me. He answered that he was well aware of my uprightness and sincerity of mind, and when I gave evidence of being still somewhat anxious about the future, owing to my fear of being pursued with implacable hate by my enemies, he consoled me and said that I might put away all care, because I was held in so much esteem both by himself and by the whole congregation of cardinals that they would not lightly lend their ears to calumnious reports. During his lifetime, he continued, I might feel quite secure, and before I took my departure he assured me several times that he bore me the greatest good will and was ready to show his affection and favour towards me on all occasions.
In the wake of the edict against Copernicus, gossip of heresy and blasphemy continued to smear Galileo’s name, though he had not been tried or convicted of any crime. In Venice, word spread that Galileo had been summoned to Rome to account for his beliefs and had now been called to account in the strictest sense. Gossip rumbled through Pisa of how Cardinal Bellarmino had forced Galileo to renounce his beliefs and repent. At the end of May, just before Galileo returned to Florence, he appealed to the cardinal for redress and received this vindicating letter of endorsement:
We, Roberto Cardinal Bellarmino, having heard that it is calumniously reported that Signor Galileo Galilei has in our hand abjured and has also been punished with salutary penance, and being requested to state the truth as to this, declare that the said Signor Galilei has not abjured, either in our hand, or the hand of any other person here in Rome, or anywhere else, so far as we know, any opinion or doctrine held by him; neither has any salutary penance been imposed on him; but that only the declaration made by the Holy Fathers and published by the Sacred Congregation of the Index has been notified to him, wherein it is set forth that the doctrine attributed to Copernicus, that the Earth moves around the Sun and that the Sun is stationary in the centre of the world and does not move from east to west, is contrary to the Holy Scriptures and therefore cannot be defended or held. In witness whereof we have written and subscribed these presents with our own hand this 26th day of May 1616.
Silenced but exonerated, Galileo confined himself for the next several years to the safe application of his great discoveries, such as using the moons of Jupiter to solve the problem of finding longitude at sea – especially as success might win him the lucrative prize offered by the king of Spain – and studying the companion bodies of Saturn to try to determine their true size and shape.
On 4 October, the feast day of Saint Francis of Assisi, Galileo heard his elder daughter profess her vows at the Convent of San Matteo in Arcetri, about a mile from Florence, where she had already lived for three years. It is possible that when Galileo first arranged for his girls’ entry into the convent, he had only their immediate future in mind, and not a lifetime plan. Nevertheless, no husbands had been found.
The form of life of the Order of the Poor Sisters which the blessed Francis founded is this: to observe the holy Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ, by living in obedience, without anything of one’s own, and in chastity.
THE RULE OF SAINT CLARE, chapter I
At the ceremony of her investiture Virginia relinquished her given name to be known henceforward as Suor Maria Celeste – the name God had chosen for her and whispered in her heart.
From then on, it shall not be permitted her to go outside the monastery.
THE RULE OF SAINT CLARE, chapter II
The next autumn, on 28 October 1617, Livia followed her sister to become Suor Arcangela. Both girls would spend the rest of their lives at San Matteo.
He Himself deigned and willed to be placed in a sepulchre of stone. And it pleased Him to be so entombed for forty hours. So, my dear Sisters, you follow Him. For after obedience, poverty and pure chastity, you have holy enclosure to hold on to, enclosure in which you can live for forty years either more or less, and in which you will die. You are, therefore, already now in your sepulchre of stone, that is, your vowed enclosure.
THE TESTAMENT OF SAINT COLETTE
In a desultory manner, Galileo continued to share his abortive theory on the tides with friends in Italy and abroad. ‘I send you a treatise on the causes of the tides’, Galileo replied in 1618 to a request from Austrian archduke Leopold for a sample of his work, ‘which I wrote at the time when the theologians were thinking of prohibiting Copernicus’s book and the doctrine enounced therein, which I then held to be true, until it pleased those gentlemen to prohibit the work and to declare the opinion to be false and contrary to Scripture. Now, knowing as I do that it behooves us to obey the decisions of the authorities and to believe them, since they are guided by a higher insight than any to which my humble mind can of itself attain, I consider this treatise which I send you to be merely a poetical conceit, or a dream…this fancy of mine…this chimera.’