Galileo published by degrees all the discoveries he had made at Padua, of which we have only noticed the most important, in the work before mentioned, the “Sidereus Nuncius”; it was dedicated to the Grand Duke, Cosmo II., and the first edition appeared at Venice, in March, 1610.
Although the unexpected discoveries which Galileo had made with his telescope had confirmed his opinion that the system of Copernicus was the only one consistent with the facts of nature, had indeed made it his absolute conviction, he had not yet ventured to defend it in his works. He contented himself with stating bare facts, without showing their relation to the ideas of Copernicus, leaving this to the learning and insight of the reader. Moreover, the logical inferences from Jupiter’s moons must surely stare every thoughtful man in the face, and so indeed they did in a way very unwelcome to the scientific conservatives.
The storm raised by Galileo’s latest announcements was tremendous. People heard with amazement the extraordinary things which the new invention had brought to light, and paid a just tribute of admiration to the man to whose labours it was due. But these discoveries were so directly opposed to the traditional natural philosophy, still regarded as the highest wisdom, that the “Sidereus Nuncius” had met with many opponents. It must however be borne in mind that at the time of its first publication very few of the learned were in a position to convince themselves with their own eyes of the correctness of the appearances seen with the telescope, simply because they had not the instrument at hand. From this cause, even Kepler did not see the satellites of Jupiter till 30th August, 1610. But men so free from jealousy and prejudice as Kepler (who, on reading the “Sidereus Nuncius,” at once recognised the truth of the discoveries, and said with enthusiasm that “Galileo had in this book given evidence of the divinity of his genius”[44]), have at all times been rare.
At first, therefore, the majority of the learned world shook their heads incredulously about the phenomena announced by the “Nuncius,” especially in Italy, where envy lent its aid to bring an armed opposition into the field. Little did it at first avail that Kepler, renowned as the first astronomer in Germany, was on the side of the “Sidereus Nuncius”; for in May of the same year he had a reprint of the work issued at Prague, with an introduction in which he expressed his entire conviction of the truth of the telescopic discoveries made known by it, and answered all objections.[45] In vain. These new discoveries were too revolutionary to be believed. Even upright and estimable scientific men, like Welser in Augsburg, and Clavius at Rome, did not give credit to Galileo’s statements until they learnt better by their own observations. The latter, who was the first mathematician in Rome in his day, even said “he laughed at the pretended satellites of Jupiter; you must construct a telescope which would first make them and then show them.” Let Galileo hold his own opinions, and he (Clavius) would hold his.[46]
But the leader of an unworthy agitation in Italy against Galileo was a man who assumed this attitude from very different motives from the sacred service of science. This was the well-known Professor Magini, astronomer at the university of Bologna, who, next to Galileo, enjoyed the highest reputation for learning in Italy. He could not brook that his famous countryman should all at once obtain the highest fame with seven-league boots, leaving a pigmy like himself far behind, by means of the discoveries made known in his “Sidereus Nuncius.” He must not only be refuted, the refutation must be circulated as widely as possible. But the most repulsive feature in Magini’s conduct towards Galileo is his double-facedness. He never openly ventured with any work into the arena himself, but incited others all the more from behind concealment.[47] Even if we do not, with Martin Hasdal and Alexander Sertini, accuse him of being exactly the instigator of the famous libel “Peregrinatio contra Nuncium Sidereum,” published by his assistant, Martin Horky, against Galileo in 1610, which excited the indignation of all the right-minded learned world, we cannot acquit him of complicity with him, and of having had a hand, more or less, in that pamphlet. The suspicion is strongly confirmed by the ostentation with which Magini, when told of the publication of the “Peregrinatio,” drove the author, with disgust and ridicule, out of his house, and took occasion to assert on all hands that he had nothing whatever to do with the shameful act of his famulus, an assertion in strange contradiction with the excuse afterwards made by Horky to Kepler.[48] By Kepler’s advice Galileo did not do him the honour of answering. The task was undertaken by Wedderburn, a Scotchman, formerly a pupil of Galileo’s, and Antonio Roffeni, professor of philosophy at the university of Bologna; the former at Padua during the same year, the latter at Bologna in 1611.[49]
Meanwhile, in July, 1610, Galileo had observed a new appearance in the heavens by means of his telescope, the ring of Saturn. In consequence, however, of the imperfection of the instrument, it did not appear like a ring, but Saturn looked like a triple star. Galileo, who on the one hand did not wish to make the new discovery public until he had sufficiently observed it, yet feared on the other that some one might claim priority, at once communicated it in a letter from Padua, 30th July, 1610,[50] to his influential friend Belisario Vinta, chief secretary of state to Cosmo II., but urgently begged him to keep it a secret. But even this did not seem sufficient to secure his right to the first observation of Saturn, so he announced it to his friends in the following absurd anagram:—
SMAJSMRMJLMEPOETALEVNJPVNENVGTTAVJRAS.
Kepler puzzled for a long time over this enigma, and at last only made out the barbaric line, “Salve umbistineum geminatum Martia proles,” which he incorrectly applied to the planet Mars. At length, after repeated requests, and after Julian de’ Medici, Tuscan ambassador at the Imperial court, had been charged by the Emperor to ask for a solution, he complied with the illustrious wish, and in a letter to Julian of 13th November, 1610,[51] gave the following startling explanation:—
Altissimum Planetam tergeminum observavi.