The Astronomy of Milton's 'Paradise Lost'

by Thomas Nathaniel Orchard

He gazes upon his native Heaven where once he dwelt, and observes the pendent world in quest of which he journeyed hither—hung by a golden chain from the Empyrean and no larger than a star of the smallest magnitude when close by the Moon. In this passage Milton does not allude to the Earth, which was invisible, but to the entire starry heavens—the newly created universe reclaimed from Chaos, which, when contrasted with the Empyrean, appeared in size no larger than the minutest star when compared with the full moon. Pursuing his journey, the new universe as it is approached expands into a globe of vast dimensions; its convex surface—round which the chaotic elements in stormy aspect lowered—seemed a boundless continent, dark, desolate, and starless, except on the side next to the wall of Heaven, which though far-distant afforded it some illumination by its reflected light. Satan, having alighted on this convex shell which enclosed the universe, wandered long over its bleak and dismal surface, until his attention was attracted by a gleam of light which appeared through an opening at its zenith right underneath the Empyrean. Thither he directed his steps, and perceived a structure resembling a staircase, or ladder, which formed the only means of communication between Heaven and the new creation, and upon which angels descended and ascended—

Far distant he descries,
Ascending by degrees magnificent
Up to the wall of Heaven, a structure high;
At top whereof, but far more rich, appeared
The work as of a kingly palace gate,
With frontispiece of diamond and gold
Embellished; thick with sparkling orient gems
The portal shone, inimitable on Earth
By model, or by shading pencil drawn.
The stairs were such as whereon Jacob saw
Angels ascending and descending, bands
Of Guardians bright, when he from Esau fled
To Padan Aram, in the field of Luz
Dreaming by night under the open sky,
And waking cried, ‘This is the gate of Heaven.’—iii. 501-15.

Sometimes this mysterious structure was drawn up to Heaven and invisible. At the time that Satan reached the opening, the stairs were lowered, and standing at their base he looked down with wonder upon the entire starry universe—

Such wonder seized, though after Heaven seen,
The Spirit malign, but much more envy seized,
At sight of all this World beheld so fair,
Round he surveys (and well might, where he stood
So high above the circling canopy
Of night’s extended shade) from eastern point
Of Libra to the fleecy star that bears
Andromeda far off Atlantic seas
Beyond the horizon; then from pole to pole
He views in breadth, and without longer pause,
Down right into the World’s first region throws
His flight precipitant, and winds with ease
Through the pure marble air his oblique way
Amongst innumerable stars, that shone
Stars distant, but nigh hand seemed other worlds,
Or other worlds they seemed, or happy isles,
Like those Hesperian Gardens famed of old,
Fortunate fields, and groves, and flowery vales;
Thrice happy isles! But who dwelt happy there
He staid not to inquire: above them all
The golden Sun, in splendour likest Heaven
Allured his eye: thither his course he bends
Through the calm firmament, (but up or down
By centre or eccentric hard to tell
Or longitude) where the great luminary,
Aloof the vulgar constellations thick,
That from his lordly eye keep distance due,
Dispenses light from far. They, as they move
Their starry dance in numbers that compute
Days, months, and years, towards his all-cheering lamp
Turn swift their various motions, or are turned
By his magnetic beam, that gently warms
The Universe, and to each inward part
With gentle penetration, though unseen,
Shoots invisible virtue even to the Deep;
So wondrously was set his station bright.—iii. 552-87.

The Ptolemaic cosmology having been adopted by Milton in the elaboration of his poem, he describes the universe in conformity with the doctrines associated with this form of astronomical belief. To each of the first seven spheres which revolved round the steadfast Earth there was attached a heavenly body; the eighth sphere embraced all the fixed stars, a countless multitude; the ninth the crystalline; and enclosing all the other spheres as if in a shell was the tenth sphere, or Primum Mobile, which in its diurnal revolution carried round with it all the other spheres. The nine inner spheres were transparent, but the tenth was an opaque solid shell-like structure, which enclosed the new universe and constituted the boundary between it and Chaos underneath and the Empyrean above. It was on the surface of this sphere that Satan wandered until he discovered the opening at its zenith, where, by means of a staircase or ladder, communication was maintained with the Empyrean. Standing on the lower steps of this structure he paused for a moment to look down into the glorious universe which lay beneath him—

another Heaven
From Heaven-gate not far, founded in view
On the clear hyaline the glassy sea.—vii. 617-19.

He beholds it in all its dimensions, from pole to pole, and longitudinally from Libra to Aries, then without hesitation precipitates himself down into the world’s first region, and winds his way with ease among the fixed stars. Around him he sees innumerable shining worlds, sparkling and glittering in endless profusion over the circumscribed immensity of space—mighty constellations that shone from afar; clustering aggregations of stars; floating islands of light; twinkling systems rising out of depths still more profound, and a zone luminous with the light of myriads of lucid orbs verging on the confines of the universe. All these worlds the fiend passed unheeded, nor stayed he to inquire who dwelt happy there. In splendour above them all the Sun attracted his attention and, directing his course towards the great luminary of our system, he alights on the surface of the orb.

Milton now makes a digression in order to describe what Satan observed in the Sun after having landed there. The poet embraces an opportunity for exercising his imaginative and descriptive powers by giving an ideal description of what, judging from the appearance of the orb, might be the natural condition of things existing on his surface—

There lands the Fiend, a spot like which perhaps
Astronomer in the Sun’s lucent orb
Through his glazed optic tube, yet never saw.
The place he found beyond expression bright,
Compared with aught on Earth, metal or stone;
Not all parts like, but all alike informed
With radiant light, as glowing iron with fire;
If metal, part seemed gold, part silver clear;
If stone, carbuncle most or chrysolite,
Ruby or topaz, to the twelve that shone
In Aaron’s breastplate, and a stone besides,
Imagined rather oft than elsewhere seen;
That stone, or like to that, which here below
Philosophers in vain so long have sought,
In vain, though by their powerful art they bind
Volatile Hermes, and call up unbound
In various shapes old Proteus from the sea,
Drained through a limbec to his native form.
What wonder then if fields and regions here
Breathe forth elixir pure, and rivers run
Potable gold, when, with one virtuous touch,
The arch-chemic Sun, so far from us remote,
Produces, with terrestrial humour mixed,
Here in the dark so many precious things
Of colour glorious, and effect so rare?
Here matter new to gaze the Devil met
Undazzled; far and wide his eye commands;
For sight no obstacle found here, nor shade,
But all sunshine, as when his beams at noon
Culminate from the equator, as they now
Shot upward still direct, whence no way round
Shadow from body opaque can fall; and the air,
Nowhere so clear sharpened his visual ray
To objects distant far, whereby he soon
Saw within here a glorious Angel stand.—iii. 588-622.

The physical structure of the interior of the Sun is unknown; all that we see of the orb is the photosphere—the dazzling luminous envelope which indicates to the eye the boundary of the solar disc, and which is the source of light and heat. Milton, in his imaginative and beautifully poetical description of the Sun, is not more fanciful in his conception of the nature of the refulgent orb than a renowned astronomer (Sir William Herschel) who writes in the following strain: ‘A cool, dark, solid globe, its surface diversified with mountains and valleys, clothed in luxuriant vegetation and richly stored with inhabitants, protected by a heavy cloud-canopy from the intolerable glare of the upper luminous region, where the dazzling coruscations of a solar aurora some thousands of miles in depth evolved the stores of light and heat which vivify our world.’ Satan, disguised as a cherub, makes himself known to Uriel, Regent of the Sun. The upright Seraph in response to his request directs him to the Earth, the abode of Man—