"The starry Galileo, with his woes."
Sister Celeste, who was a Franciscan nun in the convent of St. Matthew, in Arcetri, was the great astronomer's eldest and favorite daughter. They were greatly attached to each other, and the gentle religieuse was not only her father's confidante and consoler in the hours of trial and affliction, but was also his inspirer and ever-vigilant guardian angel. She watched over him, not as a daughter over a father, but as a mother watches over an only son.[241]
All this is beautifully exhibited in her one hundred and twenty-four letters which were published in 1891 for the first time. A few of these letters, it is true, were published as early as 1852 by Alberi, in his edition of the complete works of Galileo, and others were given to the press at subsequent dates; but the world had to wait more than two and a half centuries for a complete collection of all the known letters of this remarkable daughter of an illustrious sire.
These documents are precious for the insight they give into the sterling character of a noble woman, but they are beyond price as sources of information respecting the tenderly affectionate relations which existed between her and one of the foremost men of science, not only of his own age, but of all time. They show how he made her his confidante in all his undertakings, and how she was his amanuensis, his counselor, his inspirer; how her love was an incentive to the work that won for him undying fame; how she was his support and comfort when suffering from the jealousy of rivals or the enmity of those who were opposed to his teachings.
These letters cover a period of nearly eleven years—the most momentous years of her father's busy and troubled life. Now playful, quaint, elfish, then serious, vivid, confidential, they show that the writer's intelligence was as rare as her nature was loyal and affectionate. At times she half-apologizes for the length of a letter, "but you must remember," she adds in excuse, "that I must put into this paper everything that I should chatter to you in a week."
No daughter was ever prouder of her father or loved him with a more abounding love. "I pride myself," she says, "that I love and revere my dearest father more, by far, than others love their fathers, and I clearly perceive that, in return, he far surpasses the greater part of other fathers in the love which he has for me, his loved daughter."
When he was ill she prepared dishes and confections that she knew would tempt his appetite. But she was not satisfied with looking after the welfare of his body, for she took occasion to send with the cakes and preserved fruits a sermonette for the benefit of his soul.
An extract from one of her letters gives an insight into the character of this devoted daughter, who, Galileo says in a letter to his friend, Elia Diodati, "was a woman of exquisite mind, singular goodness and most tenderly attached to me."
"Of the preserved citron you ordered," she writes him on the nineteenth of December, 1625, "I have only been able to do a small quantity. I feared the citrons were too shriveled for preserving, and so they proved. I send two baked pears for these days of vigil. But the greatest treat of all I send you is a rose, which ought to please you extremely, seeing what a rarity it is at this season. And with the rose you must accept its thorns, which represent the bitter passion of Our Lord, while the green leaves represent the hope we may entertain that, through the same sacred passion, we, having passed through the darkness of this short winter of our mortal life, may attain to the brightness and felicity of an eternal spring in heaven, which may our gracious God grant us through His mercy."[242]