cathedral. As I entered, the daylight was yet
strong; but when I left my temporary retreat, the heavens were clustered
over with stars, and one of them, high above the old gray tower of the
ancient monastery of St. Augustine, almost cast a shadow across the
landscape--it was the planet Jupiter: and I have never observed it--at
least, thus eminent among its brethren--without being more or less
reminded of,
"The starry Galileo, and his woes."
To this planet did the philosopher direct the then newly-invented
telescope, the result being the discovery of four attendant moons: while
the analogy derived from the motions of these little stars, performing
their revolutions round the primary planet in perfect order and concord,
afforded an argument that had a powerful influence in confirming
Galileo's own views in favor of the Copernican system of the universe,
and ultimately converting the scientific world to the same opinion.
Yet little more than two centuries since, on the 14th February, 1633,
the astronomer, cited before the Inquisition, arrived at Rome, to answer
the charge of heresy and blasphemy; while, a few months ago, in the
brief but glorious day-burst of Roman liberty, that very Inquisition was
invaded by an exultant populace, and among its archives, full memorials
of martyred worth and of heroic endurance, most eagerly, but in vain,
was sought the record of the process against the great philosopher.
Galileo, on a former occasion, in reference to some of his scientific
discoveries, had heard rumors of papal persecution, and as a cautious
friend whispered to him the unpleasing tidings, he had exclaimed, "Never
will I barter the freedom of my intellect to one as liable to err as
myself!"
The time quickly arrived to test his courage and his resolution.
For a little while, we are informed, he was allowed to remain secluded
in the palace of his friend Nicolini. In a few months, however, he was
removed to an apartment in the Exchequer of the Inquisition, still being
permitted the attendance of his own servant, and many indulgences of
which they had not decided to deprive him. On the twenty-first of June,
of the same year, he appeared before the Holy Office. Through its gloomy
halls and passages he passed to the tribunal. There was little here, as
in the other ecclesiastical buildings of Rome, to captivate the senses.
The dark walls were unadorned with the creations of art; state and
ceremony were the gloomy
|