brings forward an angel to make the usual orthodox answers. Later,
Milton seems to lean toward the Copernican theory, for, referring
to the earth, he says:


          "Or she from west her silent course advance
          With inoffensive pace, that spinning sleeps
          On her soft axle, while she faces even
          And bears thee soft with the smooth air along."


English orthodoxy continued to assert itself. In 1724 John
Hutchinson, professor at Cambridge, published his _Moses' Principia_,
a system of philosophy in which he sought to build up a complete
physical system of the universe from the Bible. In this he
assaulted the Newtonian theory as "atheistic," and led the way for
similar attacks by such Church teachers as Horne, Duncan Forbes,
and Jones of Nayland. But one far greater than these involved
himself in this view. That same limitation of his reason by the
simple statements of Scripture which led John Wesley to declare
that, "unless witchcraft is true, nothing in the Bible is true,"
led him, while giving up the Ptolemaic theory and accepting in a
general way the Copernican, to suspect the demonstrations of
Newton. Happily, his inborn nobility of character lifted him above
any bitterness or persecuting spirit, or any imposition of
doctrinal tests which could prevent those who came after him from
finding their way to the truth.

But in the midst of this vast expanse of theologic error signs of
right reason began to appear, both in England and America.
Noteworthy is it that Cotton Mather, bitter as was his orthodoxy
regarding witchcraft, accepted, in 1721, the modern astronomy
fully, with all its consequences.

In the following year came an even more striking evidence that the
new scientific ideas were making their way in England. In 1722
Thomas Burnet published the sixth edition of his _Sacred Theory of
the Earth_. In this he argues, as usual, to establish the scriptural
doctrine of the earth's stability; but in his preface he sounds a
remarkable warning. He mentions the great mistake into which St.
Augustine led the Church regarding the doctrine of the antipodes,
and says, "If within a few years or in the next generation it
should prove as certain and demonstrable that the earth is moved,
as it is now that there are antipodes, those that have been zealous
against it, and engaged the Scripture in the controversy, would
have the same reason to repent of their forwardness that St.
Augustine would now, if he were still alive."

Fortunately, too, Protestantism had no such power to oppose the
development of the Copernican ideas as the older Church had
enjoyed. Yet there were some things in its warfare against science
even more indefensible. In 1772 the famous English expedition for
scientific discovery sailed from England under Captain Cook.
Greatest by far of all the scientific authorities chosen to accompany
it was Dr. Priestley. Sir Joseph Banks had especially invited
him. But the clergy of Oxford and Cambridge interfered. Priestley
was considered unsound in his views of the Trinity; it was
evidently suspected that this might vitiate his astronomical
observations; he was rejected, and the expedition crippled.

The orthodox view of astronomy lingered on in other branches of the
Protestant Church. In Germany even Leibnitz attacked the Newtonian
theory of gravitation on theological grounds, though he found some
little consolation in thinking that it might be used to support the
Lutheran doctrine of consubstantiation.

In Holland the Calvinistic Church was at first strenuous against
the whole new system, but we possess a comical proof that Calvinism
even in its strongholds was powerless against it; for in 1642 Blaer
published at Amsterdam his book on the use of globes, and, in order
to be on the safe side, devoted one part of his work to the
Ptolemaic and the other to the Copernican scheme, leaving the
benevolent reader to take his choice.[150]

Nor have efforts to renew the battle in the Protestant Church been
wanting in these latter days. The attempt in the Church of England,
in 1864, to fetter science, which was brought to ridicule by
Herschel, Bowring, and De Morgan; the assemblage of Lutheran clergy
at Berlin, in 1868, to protest against "science falsely so called,"
are examples of these. Fortunately, to the latter came Pastor Knak,
and his denunciations of the Copernican theory as absolutely
incompatible with a belief in the Bible, dissolved the whole
assemblage in ridicule.

In its recent dealings with modern astronomy the wisdom of the
Catholic Church in the more civilized countries has prevented its
yielding to some astounding errors into which one part of the
Protestant Church has fallen heedlessly.

Though various leaders in the older Church have committed the
absurd error of allowing a text-book and sundry review articles to
appear which grossly misstate the Galileo episode, with the
certainty of ultimately undermining confidence in her teachings
among her more thoughtful young men, she has kept clear of the
folly of continuing to tie her instruction, and the acceptance of
our sacred books, to an adoption of the Ptolemaic theory.

Not so with American Lutheranism. In 1873 was published in St.
Louis, at the publishing house of the Lutheran Synod of Missouri,
a work entitled _Astromomische Unterredung_, the author being well
known as a late president of a Lutheran Teachers' Seminary.

No attack on the whole modern system of astronomy could be more
bitter. On the first page of the introduction the author, after
stating the two theories, asks, "Which is right?" and says: "It
would be very simple to me which is right, if it were only a
question of human import. But the wise and truthful God has
expressed himself on this matter in the Bible. The entire Holy
Scripture settles the question that the earth is the principal body
(_Hauptkorper_) of the universe, that it stands fixed, and that sun
and moon only serve to light it."

The author then goes on to show from Scripture the folly, not only
of Copernicus and Newton, but of a long line of great astronomers
in more recent times. He declares: "Let no one understand me as
inquiring first where truth is to be found--in the Bible or with
the astronomers. No; I know that beforehand--that my God never
lies, never makes a mistake; out of his mouth comes only truth,
when he speaks of the structure of the universe, of the earth, sun,
moon, and stars....

"Because the truth of the Holy Scripture is involved in this,
therefore the above question is of the highest importance to me....
Scientists and others lean upon the miserable reed (_Rohrstab_) that God
teaches only the order of salvation, but not the order of the universe."

Very noteworthy is the fact that this late survival of an ancient
belief based upon text-worship is found, not in the teachings of
any zealous priest of the mother Church, but in those of an eminent
professor in that branch of Protestantism which claims special
enlightenment.[151]

Nor has the warfare against the dead champions of science been
carried on by the older Church alone.

On the 10th of May, 1859, Alexander von Humboldt was buried. His
labours had been among the glories of the century, and his funeral
was one of the most imposing that Berlin had ever seen. Among
those who honoured themselves by their presence was the prince
regent, afterward the Emperor William I; but of the clergy it was
observed that none were present save the officiating clergyman and
a few regarded as unorthodox.[152]


             V. RESULTS OF THE VICTORY OVER GALILEO.

We return now to the sequel of the Galileo case.

Having gained their victory over Galileo, living and dead, having
used it to scare into submission the professors of astronomy
throughout Europe, conscientious churchmen exulted. Loud was their
rejoicing that the "heresy," the "infidelity" the "atheism"
involved in believing that the earth revolves about its axis and
moves around the sun had been crushed by the great tribunal of the
Church, acting in strict obedience to the expressed will of one
Pope and the written order of another. As we have seen, all books
teaching this hated belief were put upon the _Index_ of books
forbidden to Christians, and that _Index_ was prefaced by a bull
enforcing this condemnation upon the consciences of the faithful
throughout the world, and signed by the reigning Pope.

The losses to the world during this complete triumph of theology
were even more serious than at first appears: one must especially
be mentioned. There was then in Europe one of the greatest thinkers
ever given to mankind--Rene Descartes. Mistaken though many of his
reasonings were, they bore a rich fruitage of truth. He had already
done a vast work. His theory of vortices--assuming a uniform
material regulated by physical laws--as the beginning of the
visible universe, though it was but a provisional hypothesis, had
ended the whole old theory of the heavens with the vaulted
firmament and the direction of the planetary movements by angels,
which even Kepler had allowed. The scientific warriors had stirred
new life in him, and he was working over and summing up in his
mighty mind all the researches of his time. The result would have
made an epoch in history. His aim was to combine all knowledge and
thought into a _Treatise on the World_, and in view of this he gave
eleven years to the study of anatomy alone. But the fate of Galileo
robbed him of all hope, of all courage; the battle seemed lost; he
gave up his great plan forever.[153]

But ere long it was seen that this triumph of the Church was in
reality a prodigious defeat. From all sides came proofs that
Copernicus and Galileo were right; and although Pope Urban and the
inquisition held Galileo in strict seclusion, forbidding him even
to _speak_ regarding the double motion of the earth; and although
this condemnation of "all books which affirm the motion of the
earth" was kept on the _Index_; and although the papal bull still
bound the _Index_ and the condemnations in it on the consciences of
the faithful; and although colleges and universities under Church
control were compelled to teach the old doctrine--it was seen by
clear-sighted men everywhere that this victory of the Church was a
disaster to the victors.

New champions pressed on. Campanella, full of vagaries as he was,
wrote his _Apology for Galileo_, though for that and other heresies,
religious, and political, he seven times underwent torture.

And Kepler comes: he leads science on to greater victories.
Copernicus, great as he was, could not disentangle scientific
reasoning entirely from the theological bias: the doctrines of
Aristotle and Thomas Aquinas as to the necessary superiority of the
circle had vitiated the minor features of his system, and left
breaches in it through which the enemy was not slow to enter; but
Kepler sees these errors, and by wonderful genius and vigour he
gives to the world the three laws which bear his name, and this
fortress of science is complete. He thinks and speaks as one
inspired. His battle is severe. He is solemnly warned by the
Protestant Consistory of Stuttgart "not to throw Christ's kingdom
into confusion with his silly fancies," and as solemnly ordered to
"bring his theory of the world into harmony with Scripture": he
is sometimes abused, sometimes ridiculed, sometimes imprisoned.
Protestants in Styria and Wurtemberg, Catholics in Austria and
Bohemia, press upon him but Newton, Halley, Bradley, and other
great astronomers follow, and to science remains the victory.[154]

Yet this did not end the war. During the seventeenth century, in
France, after all the splendid proofs added by Kepler, no one dared
openly teach the Copernican theory, and Cassini, the great
astronomer, never declared for it. In 1672 the Jesuit Father
Riccioli declared that there were precisely forty-nine arguments
for the Copernican theory and seventy-seven against it. Even after
the beginning of the eighteenth century--long after the
demonstrations of Sir Isaac Newton--Bossuet, the great Bishop of
Meaux, the foremost theologian that France has ever produced,
declared it contrary to Scripture.

Nor did matters seem to improve rapidly during that century. In
England, John Hutchinson, as we have seen, published in 1724 his
_Moses' Principia_ maintaining that the Hebrew Scriptures are a
perfect system of natural philosophy, and are opposed to the
Newtonian system of gravitation; and, as we have also seen, he was
followed by a long list of noted men in the Church. In France, two
eminent mathematicians published in 1748 an edition of Newton's
_Principia_; but, in order to avert ecclesiastical censure, they felt
obliged to prefix to it a statement absolutely false. Three years
later, Boscovich, the great mathematician of the Jesuits, used
these words: "As for me, full of respect for the Holy Scriptures
and the decree of the Holy Inquisition, I regard the earth as
immovable; nevertheless, for simplicity in explanation I will argue
as if the earth moves; for it is proved that of the two hypotheses
the appearances favour this idea."

In Germany, especially in the Protestant part of it, the war was
even more bitter, and it lasted through the first half of the
eighteenth century. Eminent Lutheran doctors of divinity flooded
the country with treatises to prove that the Copernican theory
could not be reconciled with Scripture. In the theological
seminaries and in many of the universities where clerical influence
was strong they seemed to sweep all before them; and yet at the
middle of the century we find some of the clearest-headed of them
aware of the fact that their cause was lost.[155]

In 1757 the most enlightened perhaps in the whole line of the
popes, Benedict XIV, took up the matter, and the Congregation of
the _Index_ secretly allowed the ideas of Copernicus to be tolerated.
Yet in 1765 Lalande, the great French astronomer, tried in vain at
Rome to induce the authorities to remove Galileo's works from the
_Index_. Even at a date far within our own nineteenth century the
authorities of many universities in Catholic Europe, and especially
those in Spain, excluded the Newtonian system. In 1771 the
greatest of them all, the University of Salamanca, being urged to
teach physical science, refused, making answer as follows: "Newton
teaches nothing that would make a good logician or metaphysician;
and Gassendi and Descartes do not agree so well with revealed truth
as Aristotle does."

Vengeance upon the dead also has continued far into our own
century. On the 5th of May, 1829, a great multitude assembled at
Warsaw to honour the memory of Copernicus and to unveil
Thorwaldsen's statue of him.

Copernicus had lived a pious, Christian life; he had been beloved
for unostentatious Christian charity; with his religious belief no
fault had ever been found; he was a canon of the Church at
Frauenberg, and over his grave had been written the most touching
of Christian epitaphs. Naturally, then, the people expected a
religious service; all was understood to be arranged for it; the
procession marched to the church and waited. The hour passed, and
no priest appeared; none could be induced to appear. Copernicus,
gentle, charitable, pious, one of the noblest gifts of God to
religion as well as to science, was evidently still under the ban.
Five years after that, his book was still standing on the _Index_ of
books prohibited to Christians.

The edition of the _Index_ published in 1819 was as inexorable toward
the works of Copernicus and Galileo as its predecessors had been;
but in the year 182O came a crisis. Canon Settele, Professor of
Astronomy at Rome, had written an elementary book in which the
Copernican system was taken for granted. The Master of the Sacred
Palace, Anfossi, as censor of the press, refused to allow the book
to be printed unless Settele revised his work and treated the
Copernican theory as merely a hypothesis. On this Settele appealed
to Pope Pius VII, and the Pope referred the matter to the
Congregation of the Holy Office. At last, on the 16th of August,
182O, it was decided that Settele might teach the Copernican system
as established, and this decision was approved by the Pope. This
aroused considerable discussion, but finally, on the 11th of
September, 1822, the cardinals of the Holy Inquisition graciously
agreed that "the printing and publication of works treating of the
motion of the earth and the stability of the sun, in accordance
with the general opinion of modern astronomers, is permitted at
Rome." This decree was ratified by Pius VII, but it was not until
thirteen years later, in 1835, that there was issued an edition of
the _Index_ from which the condemnation of works defending the double
motion of the earth was left out.

This was not a moment too soon, for, as if the previous proofs had
not been sufficient, each of the motions of the earth was now
absolutely demonstrated anew, so as to be recognised by the
ordinary observer. The parallax of fixed stars, shown by Bessel as
well as other noted astronomers in 1838, clinched forever the
doctrine of the revolution of the earth around the sun, and in 1851
the great experiment of Foucault with the pendulum showed to the
human eye the earth in motion around its own axis. To make the
matter complete, this experiment was publicly made in one of the
churches at Rome by the eminent astronomer, Father Secchi, of the
Jesuits, in 1852--just two hundred and twenty years after the
Jesuits had done so much to secure Galileo's condemnation.[157]


  VI. THE RETREAT OF THE CHURCH AFTER ITS VICTORY OVER GALILEO.

Any history of the victory of astronomical science over dogmatic
theology would be incomplete without some account of the retreat
made by the Church from all its former positions in the Galileo case.

The retreat of the Protestant theologians was not difficult. A
little skilful warping of Scripture, a little skilful use of that
time-honoured phrase, attributed to Cardinal Baronius, that the
Bible is given to teach us, not how the heavens go, but how men go
to heaven, and a free use of explosive rhetoric against the
pursuing army of scientists, sufficed.

But in the older Church it was far less easy. The retreat of the
sacro-scientific army of Church apologists lasted through two centuries.

In spite of all that has been said by these apologists, there no
longer remains the shadow of a doubt that the papal infallibility
was committed fully and irrevocably against the double revolution
of the earth. As the documents of Galileo's trial now published
show, Paul V, in 1616, pushed on with all his might the
condemnation of Galileo and of the works of Copernicus and of all
others teaching the motion of the earth around its own axis and
around the sun. So, too, in the condemnation of Galileo in 1633,
and in all the proceedings which led up to it and which followed
it, Urban VIII was the central figure. Without his sanction no
action could have been taken.

True, the Pope did not formally sign the decree against the
Copernican theory _then_; but this came later, In 1664 Alexander VII
prefixed to the _Index_ containing the condemnations of the works of
Copernicus and Galileo and "all books which affirm the motion of
the earth" a papal bull signed by himself, binding the contents of
the _Index_ upon the consciences of the faithful. This bull confirmed
and approved in express terms, finally, decisively, and infallibly,
the condemnation of "all books teaching the movement of the earth
and the stability of the sun."[158]

The position of the mother Church had been thus made especially
difficult; and the first important move in retreat by the
apologists was the statement that Galileo was condemned, not
because he affirmed the motion of the earth, but because he
supported it from Scripture. There was a slight appearance of truth
in this. Undoubtedly, Galileo's letters to Castelli and the grand.
duchess, in which he attempted to show that his astronomical
doctrines were not opposed to Scripture, gave a new stir to
religious bigotry. For a considerable time, then, this quibble
served its purpose; even a hundred and fifty years after Galileo's
condemnation it was renewed by the Protestant Mallet du Pan, in his
wish to gain favour from the older Church.

But nothing can be more absurd, in the light of the original
documents recently brought out of the Vatican archives, than to
make this contention now. The letters of Galileo to Castelli and
the Grand-Duchess were not published until after the condemnation;
and, although the Archbishop of Pisa had endeavoured to use them
against him, they were but casually mentioned in 1616, and entirely
left out of view in 1633. What was condemned in 1616 by the Sacred
Congregation held in the presence of Pope Paul V, as "_absurd,
false in theology, and heretical, because absolutely contrary to
Holy Scripture_, "was the proposition that "_the sun is the centre
about which the earth revolves_"; and what was condemned as
"_absurd, false in philosophy, and from a theologic point of view,
at least, opposed to the true faith_," was the proposition that "_the
earth is not the centre of the universe and immovable, but has a
diurnal motion_."

And again, what Galileo was made, by express order of Pope Urban, and
by the action of the Inquisition under threat of torture, to abjure
in 1633, was "_the error and heresy of the movement of the earth_."

What the _Index_ condemned under sanction of the bull issued by
Alexander VII in 1664 was, "_all books teaching the movement of the
earth and the stability of the sun_."

What the _Index_, prefaced by papal bulls, infallibly binding its
contents upon the consciences of the faithful, for nearly two
hundred years steadily condemned was, "_all books which affirm the
motion of the earth_."

Not one of these condemnations was directed against Galileo "for
reconciling his ideas with Scripture."[160]

Having been dislodged from this point, the Church apologists sought
cover under the statement that Galileo was condemned not for
heresy, but for contumacy and want of respect toward the Pope.

There was a slight chance, also, for this quibble: no doubt Urban
VIII, one of the haughtiest of pontiffs, was induced by Galileo's
enemies to think that he had been treated with some lack of proper
etiquette: first, by Galileo's adhesion to his own doctrines after
his condemnation in 1616; and, next, by his supposed reference in
the _Dialogue_ of 1632 to the arguments which the Pope had used
against him.

But it would seem to be a very poor service rendered to the
doctrine of papal infallibility to claim that a decision so immense
in its consequences could be influenced by the personal resentment
of the reigning pontiff.

Again, as to the first point, the very language of the various
sentences shows the folly of this assertion; for these sentences
speak always of "heresy" and never of "contumacy." As to the
last point, the display of the original documents settled that
forever. They show Galileo from first to last as most submissive
toward the Pope, and patient under the papal arguments and
exactions. He had, indeed, expressed his anger at times against his
traducers; but to hold this the cause of the judgment against him
is to degrade the whole proceedings, and to convict Paul V, Urban
VIII, Bellarmin, the other theologians, and the Inquisition, of
direct falsehood, since they assigned entirely different reasons
for their conduct. From this position, therefore, the assailants
retreated.[161]

The next rally was made about the statement that the persecution of
Galileo was the result of a quarrel between Aristotelian professors
on one side and professors favouring the experimental method on the
other. But this position was attacked and carried by a very simple
statement. If the divine guidance of the Church is such that it can
be dragged into a professorial squabble, and made the tool of a
faction in bringing about a most disastrous condemnation of a
proved truth, how did the Church at that time differ from any human
organization sunk into decrepitude, managed nominally by
simpletons, but really by schemers? If that argument be true, the
condition of the Church was even worse than its enemies have
declared it; and amid the jeers of an unfeeling world the
apologists sought new shelter.

The next point at which a stand was made was the assertion that the
condemnation of Galileo was "provisory"; but this proved a more
treacherous shelter than the others. The wording of the decree of
condemnation itself is a sufficient answer to this claim. When
doctrines have been solemnly declared, as those of Galileo were
solemnly declared under sanction of the highest authority in the
Church, "contrary to the sacred Scriptures," "opposed to the true
faith," and "false and absurd in theology and philosophy"--to
say that such declarations are "provisory" is to say that the
truth held by the Church is not immutable; from this, then, the
apologists retreated.[161b]

Still another contention was made, in some respects more curious
than any other: it was, mainly, that Galileo "was no more a
victim of Catholics than of Protestants; for they more than the
Catholic theologians impelled the Pope to the action taken."[162]

But if Protestantism could force the papal hand in a matter of this
magnitude, involving vast questions of belief and far-reaching
questions of policy, what becomes of "inerrancy"--of special
protection and guidance of the papal authority in matters of faith?

While this retreat from position to position was going on, there
was a constant discharge of small-arms, in the shape of innuendoes,
hints, and sophistries: every effort was made to blacken
Galileo's private character: the irregularities of his early life
were dragged forth, and stress was even laid upon breaches of
etiquette; but this succeeded so poorly that even as far back as
1850 it was thought necessary to cover the retreat by some more
careful strategy.

This new strategy is instructive. The original documents of the
Galileo trial had been brought during the Napoleonic conquests to
Paris; but in 1846 they were returned to Rome by the French
Government, on the express pledge by the papal authorities that
they should be published. In 1850, after many delays on various
pretexts, the long-expected publication appeared. The personage
charged with presenting them to the world was Monsignor Marini.
This ecclesiastic was of a kind which has too often afflicted both
the Church and the world at large. Despite the solemn promise of
the papal court, the wily Marini became the instrument of the Roman
authorities in evading the promise. By suppressing a document here,
and interpolating a statement there, he managed to give plausible
standing-ground for nearly every important sophistry ever broached
to save the infallibility of the Church and destroy the reputation
of Galileo. He it was who supported the idea that Galileo was
"condemned not for heresy, but for contumacy."

The first effect of Monsignor Marini's book seemed useful in
covering the retreat of the Church apologists. Aided by him, such
vigorous writers as Ward were able to throw up temporary intrenchments
between the Roman authorities and the indignation of the world.

But some time later came an investigator very different from
Monsignor Marini. This was a Frenchman, M. L'Epinois. Like Marini,
L'Epinois was devoted to the Church; but, unlike Marini, he could
not lie. Having obtained access in 1867 to the Galileo documents at
the Vatican, he published several of the most important, without
suppression or pious-fraudulent manipulation. This made all the
intrenchments based upon Marini's statements untenable. Another
retreat had to be made.

And now came the most desperate effort of all. The apologetic army,
reviving an idea which the popes and the Church had spurned for
centuries, declared that the popes _as popes_ had never condemned
the doctrines of Copernicus and Galileo; that they had condemned
them as men simply; that therefore the Church had never been
committed to them; that the condemnation was made by the cardinals
of the inquisition and index; and that the Pope had evidently been
restrained by interposition of Providence from signing their
condemnation. Nothing could show the desperation of the retreating
party better than jugglery like this. The fact is, that in the
official account of the condemnation by Bellarmin, in 1616, he
declares distinctly that he makes this condemnation "in the name
of His Holiness the Pope."[163]

Again, from Pope Urban downward, among the Church authorities of
the seventeenth century the decision was always acknowledged to be
made by the Pope and the Church. Urban VIII spoke of that of 1616
as made by Pope Paul V and the Church, and of that of 1633 as made
by himself and the Church. Pope Alexander VII in 1664, in his bull
_Speculatores_, solemnly sanctioned the condemnation of all books
affirming the earth's movement.[163b]

When Gassendi attempted to raise the point that the decision
against Copernicus and Galileo was not sanctioned by the Church as
such, an eminent theological authority, Father Lecazre, rector of
the College of Dijon, publicly contradicted him, and declared that
it "was not certain cardinals, but the supreme authority of the
Church," that had condemned Galileo; and to this statement the
Pope and other Church authorities gave consent either openly or by
silence. When Descartes and others attempted to raise the same
point, they were treated with contempt. Father Castelli, who had
devoted himself to Galileo, and knew to his cost just what the
condemnation meant and who made it, takes it for granted, in his
letter to the papal authorities, that it was made by the Church.
Cardinal Querenghi, in his letters; the ambassador Guicciardini, in
his dispatches; Polacco, in his refutation; the historian Viviani,
in his biography of Galileo--all writing under Church inspection
and approval at the time, took the view that the Pope and the
Church condemned Galileo, and this was never denied at Rome. The
Inquisition itself, backed by the greatest theologian of the time
(Bellarmin), took the same view. Not only does he declare that he
makes the condemnation "in the name of His Holiness the Pope," but
we have the Roman _Index_, containing the condemnation for nearly two
hundred years, prefaced by a solemn bull of the reigning Pope
binding this condemnation on the consciences of the whole Church,
and declaring year after year that "all books which affirm the
motion of the earth" are damnable. To attempt to face all this,
added to the fact that Galileo was required to abjure "the heresy
of the movement of the earth" by written order of the Pope, was
soon seen to be impossible. Against the assertion that the Pope was
not responsible we have all this mass of testimony, and the bull of
Alexander VII in 1664.[164]

This contention, then, was at last utterly given up by honest
Catholics themselves. In 1870 a Roman Catholic clergy man in
England, the Rev. Mr. Roberts, evidently thinking that the time had
come to tell the truth, published a book entitled _The Pontifical
Decrees against the Earth's Movement_, and in this exhibited the
incontrovertible evidences that the papacy had committed itself and
its infallibility fully against the movement of the earth. This
Catholic clergyman showed from the original record that Pope Paul
V, in 1616, had presided over the tribunal condemning the doctrine
of the earth's movement, and ordering Galileo to give up the
opinion. He showed that Pope Urban VIII, in 1633, pressed on,
directed, and promulgated the final condemnation, making himself in
all these ways responsible for it. And, finally, he showed that
Pope Alexander VII, in 1664, by his bull--_Speculatores domus
Israel_--attached to the _Index_, condemning "all books which affirm
the motion of the earth," had absolutely pledged the papal
infallibility against the earth's movement. He also confessed that
under the rules laid down by the highest authorities in the Church,
and especially by Sixtus V and Pius IX, there was no escape from
this conclusion.

Various theologians attempted to evade the force of the argument.
Some, like Dr. Ward and Bouix, took refuge in verbal niceties;
some, like Dr. Jeremiah Murphy, comforted themselves with
declamation. The only result was, that in 1885 came another edition
of the Rev. Mr. Roberts's work, even more cogent than the first;
and, besides this, an essay by that eminent Catholic, St. George
Mivart, acknowledging the Rev. Mr. Roberts's position to be
impregnable, and declaring virtually that the Almighty allowed Pope
and Church to fall into complete error regarding the Copernican
theory, in order to teach them that science lies outside their
province, and that the true priesthood of scientific truth rests
with scientific investigators alone.[166]

In spite, then, of all casuistry and special pleading, this sturdy
honesty ended the controversy among Catholics themselves, so far as
fair-minded men are concerned.

In recalling it at this day there stand out from its later phases
two efforts at compromise especially instructive, as showing the
embarrassment of militant theology in the nineteenth century.

The first of these was made by John Henry Newman in the days when
he was hovering between the Anglican and Roman Churches. In one of
his sermons before the University of Oxford he spoke as follows:

"Scripture says that the sun moves and the earth is stationary, and
science that the earth moves and the sun is comparatively at rest.
How can we determine which of these opposite statements is the very
truth till we know what motion is? If our idea of motion is but an
accidental result of our present senses, neither proposition is
true and both are true: neither true philosophically; both true for
certain practical purposes in the system in which they are
respectively found."

In all anti-theological literature there is no utterance more
hopelessly skeptical. And for what were the youth of Oxford led
into such bottomless depths of disbelief as to any real existence
of truth or any real foundation for it? Simply to save an outworn
system of interpretation into which the gifted preacher happened to
be born.

The other utterance was suggested by De Bonald and developed in the
_Dublin Review_, as is understood, by one of Newman's associates.
This argument was nothing less than an attempt to retreat under the
charge of deception against the Almighty himself. It is as follows:
"But it may well be doubted whether the Church did retard the
progress of scientific truth. What retarded it was the circumstance
that God has thought fit to express many texts of Scripture in
words which have every appearance of denying the earth's motion.
But it is God who did this, not the Church; and, moreover, since he
saw fit so to act as to retard the progress of scientific truth, it
would be little to her discredit, even if it were true, that she
had followed his example."

This argument, like Mr. Gosse's famous attempt to reconcile geology
to Genesis--by supposing that for some inscrutable purpose God
deliberately deceived the thinking world by giving to the earth all
the appearances of development through long periods of time, while
really creating it in six days, each of an evening and a
morning--seems only to have awakened the amazed pity of thinking
men. This, like the argument of Newman, was a last desperate effort
of Anglican and Roman divines to save something from the wreckage
of dogmatic theology.[167]

All these well-meaning defenders of the faith but wrought into the
hearts of great numbers of thinking men the idea that there is a
necessary antagonism between science and religion. Like the
landsman who lashes himself to the anchor of the sinking ship, they
simply attached Christianity by the strongest cords of logic which
they could spin to these mistaken ideas in science, and, could they
have had their way, the advance of knowledge would have ingulfed
both together.

On the other hand, what had science done for religion? Simply this:
Copernicus, escaping persecution only by death; Giordano Bruno,
burned alive as a monster of impiety; Galileo, imprisoned and
humiliated as the worst of misbelievers; Kepler, accused of
"throwing Christ's kingdom into confusion with his silly fancies";
Newton, bitterly attacked for "dethroning Providence," gave to
religion stronger foundations and more ennobling conceptions.

Under the old system, that princely astronomer, Alphonso of
Castile, seeing the inadequacy of the Ptolemaic theory, yet knowing
no other, startled Europe with the blasphemy that, if he had been
present at creation, he could have suggested a better order of the
heavenly bodies. Under the new system, Kepler, filled with a
religious spirit, exclaimed, "I do think the thoughts of God." The
difference in religious spirit between these two men marks the
conquest made in this long struggle by Science for Religion.[168]

Nothing is more unjust than to cast especial blame for all this
resistance to science upon the Roman Church. The Protestant Church,
though rarely able to be so severe, has been more blameworthy. The
persecution of Galileo and his compeers by the older Church was
mainly at the beginning of the seventeenth century; the
persecution of Robertson Smith, and Winchell, and Woodrow, and Toy,
and the young professors at Beyrout, by various Protestant
authorities, was near the end of the nineteenth century. Those
earlier persecutions by Catholicism were strictly in accordance
with principles held at that time by all religionists, Catholic and
Protestant, throughout the world; these later persecutions by
Protestants were in defiance of principles which all Protestants
to-day hold or pretend to hold, and none make louder claim to hold
them than the very sects which persecuted these eminent Christian
men of our day, men whose crime was that they were intelligent
enough to accept the science of their time, and honest enough to
acknowledge it.

Most unjustly, then, would Protestantism taunt Catholicism for
excluding knowledge of astronomical truths from European Catholic
universities in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, while
real knowledge of geological and biological and anthropological
truth is denied or pitifully diluted in so many American Protestant
colleges and universities in the nineteenth century.

Nor has Protestantism the right to point with scorn to the Catholic
_Index_, and to lay stress on the fact that nearly every really
important book in the last three centuries has been forbidden by
it, so long as young men in so many American Protestant
universities and colleges are nursed with "ecclesiastical pap"
rather than with real thought, and directed to the works of
"solemnly constituted impostors," or to sundry "approved courses of
reading," while they are studiously kept aloof from such leaders in
modern thought as Darwin, Spencer, Huxley, Draper, and Lecky.

It may indeed be justly claimed by Protestantism that some of the
former strongholds of her bigotry have become liberalized; but, on
the other hand, Catholicism can point to the fact that Pope Leo XIII,
now happily reigning, has made a noble change as regards open
dealing with documents. The days of Monsignor Marini, it may be
hoped, are gone. The Vatican Library, with its masses of historical
material, has been thrown open to Protestant and Catholic scholars
alike, and this privilege has been freely used by men representing
all shades of religious thought.

As to the older errors, the whole civilized world was at fault,
Protestant as well as Catholic. It was not the fault of religion;
it was the fault of that short-sighted linking of theological
dogmas to scriptural texts which, in utter defiance of the words
and works of the Blessed Founder of Christianity, narrow-minded,
loud-voiced men are ever prone to substitute for religion. Justly
is it said by one of the most eminent among contemporary Anglican
divines, that "it is because they have mistaken the dawn for a
conflagration that theologians have so often been foes of light."[170]


                           CHAPTER IV.
         FROM "SIGNS AND WONDERS" TO LAW IN THE HEAVENS.

                    I. THE THEOLOGICAL VIEW.

FEW things in the evolution of astronomy are more suggestive than
the struggle between the theological and the scientific doctrine
regarding comets--the passage from the conception of them as
fire-balls flung by an angry God for the purpose of scaring a
wicked world, to a recognition of them as natural in origin and
obedient to law in movement. Hardly anything throws a more vivid
light upon the danger of wresting texts of Scripture to preserve
ideas which observation and thought have superseded, and upon the
folly of arraying ecclesiastical power against scientific discovery.[171]

Out of the ancient world had come a mass of beliefs regarding
comets, meteors, and eclipses; all these were held to be signs
displayed from heaven for the warning of mankind. Stars and meteors
were generally thought to presage happy events, especially the
births of gods, heroes, and great men. So firmly rooted was this
idea that we constantly find among the ancient nations traditions
of lights in the heavens preceding the birth of persons of note.
The sacred books of India show that the births of Crishna and of
Buddha were announced by such heavenly lights.[171b] The sacred
books of China tell of similar appearances at the births of Yu, the
founder of the first dynasty, and of the inspired sage, Lao-tse.
According to the Jewish legends, a star appeared at the birth of
Moses, and was seen by the Magi of Egpyt, who informed the king;
and when Abraham was born an unusual star appeared in the east. The
Greeks and Romans cherished similar traditions. A heavenly light
accompanied the birth of AEsculapius, and the births of various
Caesars were heralded in like manner.[172]

The same conception entered into our Christian sacred books. Of all
the legends which grew in such luxuriance and beauty about the
cradle of Jesus of Nazareth, none appeals more directly to the
highest poetic feeling than that given by one of the evangelists,
in which a star, rising in the east, conducted the wise men to the
manger where the Galilean peasant-child--the Hope of Mankind, the
Light of the World--was lying in poverty and helplessness.

Among the Mohammedans we have a curious example of the same
tendency toward a kindly interpretation of stars and meteors, in
the belief of certain Mohammedan teachers that meteoric showers are
caused by good angels hurling missiles to drive evil angels out of
the sky.

Eclipses were regarded in a very different light, being supposed to
express the distress of Nature at earthly calamities. The Greeks
believed that darkness overshadowed the earth at the deaths of
Prometheus, Atreus, Hercules, AEsculapius, and Alexander the Great.
The Roman legends held that at the death of Romulus there was
darkness for six hours. In the history of the Caesars occur
portents of all three kinds; for at the death of Julius the earth
was shrouded in darkness, the birth of Augustus was heralded by a
star, and the downfall of Nero by a comet. So, too, in one of the
Christian legends clustering about the crucifixion, darkness
overspread the earth from the sixth to the ninth hour. Neither the
silence regarding it of the only evangelist who claims to have been
present, nor the fact that observers like Seneca and Pliny, who,
though they carefully described much less striking occurrences of
the same sort and in more remote regions, failed to note any such
darkness even in Judea, have availed to shake faith in an account
so true to the highest poetic instincts of humanity.

This view of the relations between Nature and man continued among
both Jews and Christians. According to Jewish tradition, darkness
overspread the earth for three days when the books of the Law were
profaned by translation into Greek. Tertullian thought an eclipse
an evidence of God's wrath against unbelievers. Nor has this mode
of thinking ceased in modern times. A similar claim was made at the
execution of Charles I; and Increase Mather thought an eclipse in
Massachusetts an evidence of the grief of Nature at the death of
President Chauncey, of Harvard College. Archbishop Sandys expected
eclipses to be the final tokens of woe at the destruction of the
world, and traces of this feeling have come down to our own time.
The quaint story of the Connecticut statesman who, when his
associates in the General Assembly were alarmed by an eclipse of
the sun, and thought it the beginning of the Day of Judgment,
quietly ordered in candles, that he might in any case be found
doing his duty, marks probably the last noteworthy appearance of
the old belief in any civilized nation.[173]

In these beliefs regarding meteors and eclipses there was little
calculated to do harm by arousing that superstitious terror which is
the worst breeding-bed of cruelty. Far otherwise was it with the
belief regarding comets. During many centuries it gave rise to the
direst superstition and fanaticism. The Chaldeans alone among the
ancient peoples generally regarded comets without fear, and thought
them bodies wandering as harmless as fishes in the sea; the
Pythagoreans alone among philosophers seem to have had a vague idea
of them as bodies returning at fixed periods of time; and in all
antiquity, so far as is known, one man alone, Seneca, had the
scientific instinct and prophetic inspiration to give this idea
definite shape, and to declare that the time would come when comets
would be found to move in accordance with natural law. Here and
there a few strong men rose above the prevailing superstition. The
Emperor Vespasian tried to laugh it down, and insisted that a
certain comet in his time could not betoken his death, because it
was hairy, and he bald; but such scoffing produced little permanent
effect, and the prophecy of Seneca was soon forgotten. These and
similar isolated utterances could not stand against the mass of
opinion which upheld the doctrine that comets are "signs and
wonders."[174]

The belief that every comet is a ball of fire flung from the right
hand of an angry God to warn the grovelling dwellers of earth was
received into the early Church, transmitted through the Middle Ages
to the Reformation period, and in its transmission was made all the
more precious by supposed textual proofs from Scripture. The great
fathers of the Church committed themselves unreservedly to it. In
the third century Origen, perhaps the most influential of the
earlier fathers of the universal Church in all questions between
science and faith, insisted that comets indicate catastrophes and
the downfall of empires and worlds. Bede, so justly revered by the
English Church, declared in the eighth century. that "comets
portend revolutions of kingdoms, pestilence, war, winds, or heat";
and John of Damascus, his eminent contemporary in the Eastern
Church, took the same view. Rabanus Maurus, the great teacher of
Europe in the ninth century, an authority throughout the Middle
Ages, adopted Bede's opinion fully. St. Thomas Aquinas, the great
light of the universal Church in the thirteenth century, whose
works the Pope now reigning commends as the centre and source of
all university instruction, accepted and handed down the same
opinion. The sainted Albert the Great, the most noted genius of the
medieval Church in natural science, received and developed this
theory. These men and those who followed them founded upon
scriptural texts and theological reasonings a system that for
seventeen centuries defied every advance of thought.[175]

The main evils thence arising were three: the paralysis of
self-help, the arousing of fanaticism, and the strengthening of
ecclesiastical and political tyranny. The first two of these
evils--the paralysis of self-help and the arousing of
fanaticism--are evident throughout all these ages. At the
appearance of a comet we constantly see all Christendom, from pope
to peasant, instead of striving to avert war by wise statesmanship,
instead of striving to avert pestilence by observation and reason,
instead of striving to avert famine by skilful economy, whining
before fetiches, trying to bribe them to remove these signs of
God's wrath, and planning to wreak this supposed wrath of God upon
misbelievers.

As to the third of these evils--the strengthening of ecclesiastical
and civil despotism--examples appear on every side. It was natural
that hierarchs and monarchs whose births were announced by stars,
or whose deaths were announced by comets, should regard themselves
as far above the common herd, and should be so regarded by mankind;
passive obedience was thus strengthened, and the most monstrous
assumptions of authority were considered simply as manifestations
of the Divine will. Shakespeare makes Calphurnia say to Caesar:


          "When beggars die, there are no comets seen;
          The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes."


Galeazzo, the tyrant of Milan, expressing satisfaction on his
deathbed that his approaching end was of such importance as to be
heralded by a comet, is but a type of many thus encouraged to prey
upon mankind; and Charles V, one of the most powerful monarchs the
world has known, abdicating under fear of the comet of 1556, taking
refuge in the monastery of San Yuste, and giving up the best of his
vast realms to such a scribbling bigot as Philip II, furnishes an
example even more striking.[176]

But for the retention of this belief there was a moral cause.
Myriads of good men in the Christian Church down to a recent period
saw in the appearance of comets not merely an exhibition of "signs
in the heavens" foretold in Scripture, but also Divine warnings of
vast value to humanity as incentives to repentance and improvement
of life-warnings, indeed, so precious that they could not be spared
without danger to the moral government of the world. And this
belief in the portentous character of comets as an essential part
of the Divine government, being, as it was thought, in full accord
with Scripture, was made for centuries a source of terror to
humanity. To say nothing of examples in the earlier periods, comets
in the tenth century especially increased the distress of all
Europe. In the middle of the eleventh century a comet was thought
to accompany the death of Edward the Confessor and to presage the
Norman conquest; the traveller in France to-day may see this
belief as it was then wrought into the Bayeux tapestry.[177]

Nearly every decade of years throughout the Middle Ages saw Europe
plunged into alarm by appearances of this sort, but the culmination
seems to have been reached in 1456. At that time the Turks, after
a long effort, had made good their footing in Europe. A large
statesmanship or generalship might have kept them out; but, while
different religious factions were disputing over petty shades of
dogma, they had advanced, had taken Constantinople, and were
evidently securing their foothold. Now came the full bloom of this
superstition. A comet appeared. The Pope of that period, Calixtus
III, though a man of more than ordinary ability, was saturated with
the ideas of his time. Alarmed at this monster, if we are to
believe the contemporary historian, this infallible head of the
Church solemnly "decreed several days of prayer for the averting
of the wrath of God, that whatever calamity impended might be
turned from the Christians and against the Turks." And, that all
might join daily in this petition, there was then established that
midday Angelus which has ever since called good Catholics to prayer
against the powers of evil. Then, too, was incorporated into a
litany the plea, "From the Turk and the comet, good Lord, deliver
us." Never was papal intercession less effective; for the Turk has
held Constantinople from that day to this, while the obstinate
comet, being that now known under the name of Halley, has returned
imperturbably at short periods ever since.[177b]

But the superstition went still further. It became more and more
incorporated into what was considered "scriptural science" and
"sound learning." The encyclopedic summaries, in which the science
of the Middle Ages and the Reformation period took form, furnish
abundant proofs of this.

Yet scientific observation was slowly undermining this structure.
The inspired prophecy of Seneca had not been forgotten. Even as
far back as the ninth century, in the midst of the sacred learning
so abundant at the court of Charlemagne and his successors, we find
a scholar protesting against the accepted doctrine. In the
thirteenth century we have a mild question by Albert the Great as
to the supposed influence of comets upon individuals; but the
prevailing theological current was too strong, and he finally
yielded to it in this as in so many other things.

So, too, in the sixteenth century, we have Copernicus refusing to
accept the usual theory, Paracelsus writing to Zwingli against it,
and Julius Caesar Scaliger denouncing it as "ridiculous folly."[178]

At first this scepticism only aroused the horror of theologians and
increased the vigour of ecclesiastics; both asserted the
theological theory of comets all the more strenuously as based on
scriptural truth. During the sixteenth century France felt the
influence of one of her greatest men on the side of this
superstition. Jean Bodin, so far before his time in political
theories, was only thoroughly abreast of it in religious theories:
the same reverence for the mere letter of Scripture which made him
so fatally powerful in supporting the witchcraft delusion, led him
to support this theological theory of comets--but with a
difference: he thought them the souls of men, wandering in space,
bringing famine, pestilence, and war.

Not less strong was the same superstition in England. Based upon
mediaeval theology, it outlived the revival of learning. From a
multitude of examples a few may be selected as typical. Early in
the sixteenth century Polydore Virgil, an ecclesiastic of the
unreformed Church, alludes, in his _English History_, to the presage
of the death of the Emperor Constantine by a comet as to a simple
matter of fact; and in his work on prodigies he pushes this
superstition to its most extreme point, exhibiting comets as
preceding almost every form of calamity.

In 1532, just at the transition period from the old Church to the
new, Cranmer, paving the way to his archbishopric, writes from
Germany to Henry VIII, and says of the comet then visible: "What
strange things these tokens do signify to come hereafter, God
knoweth; for they do not lightly appear but against some great matter."

Twenty years later Bishop Latimer, in an Advent sermon, speaks of
eclipses, rings about the sun, and the like, as signs of the
approaching end of the world.[179]

In 1580, under Queen Elizabeth, there was set forth an "order of
prayer to avert God's wrath from us, threatened by the late
terrible earthquake, to be used in all parish churches." In
connection with this there was also commended to the faithful "a
godly admonition for the time present"; and among the things
referred to as evidence of God's wrath are comets, eclipses, and
falls of snow.

This view held sway in the Church of England during Elizabeth's
whole reign and far into the Stuart period: Strype, the
ecclesiastical annalist, gives ample evidence of this, and among
the more curious examples is the surmise that the comet of 1572 was
a token of Divine wrath provoked by the St. Bartholomew massacre.

As to the Stuart period, Archbishop Spottiswoode seems to have been
active in carrying the superstition from the sixteenth century to
the seventeenth, and Archbishop Bramhall cites Scripture in support
of it. Rather curiously, while the diary of Archbishop Laud shows
so much superstition regarding dreams as portents, it shows little
or none regarding comets; but Bishop Jeremy Taylor, strong as he
was, evidently favoured the usual view. John Howe, the eminent
Nonconformist divine in the latter part of the century, seems to
have regarded the comet superstition as almost a fundamental
article of belief; he laments the total neglect of comets and
portents generally, declaring that this neglect betokens want of
reverence for the Ruler of the world; he expresses contempt for
scientific inquiry regarding comets, insists that they may be
natural bodies and yet supernatural portents, and ends by saying,
"I conceive it very safe to suppose that some very considerable
thing, either in the way of judgment or mercy, may ensue, according
as the cry of persevering wickedness or of penitential prayer is
more or less loud at that time."[180]

The Reformed Church of Scotland supported the superstition just as
strongly. John Knox saw in comets tokens of the wrath of Heaven;
other authorities considered them "a warning to the king to
extirpate the Papists"; and as late as 1680, after Halley had won
his victory, comets were announced on high authority in the
Scottish Church to be "prodigies of great judgment on these lands
for our sins, for never was the Lord more provoked by a people."

While such was the view of the clergy during the sixteenth and
seventeenth centuries, the laity generally accepted it as a matter
of course, Among the great leaders in literature there was at least
general acquiescence in it. Both Shakespeare and Milton recognise
it, whether they fully accept it or not. Shakespeare makes the Duke
of Bedford, lamenting at the bier of Henry V, say:


          "Comets, importing change of time and states,
          Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky;
          And with them scourge the bad revolting stars,
          That have consented unto Henry's death."


Milton, speaking of Satan preparing for combat, says:


                         "On the other side,
          Incensed with indignation, Satan stood.
          Unterrified, and like a comet burned,
          That fires the length of Ophiuchus huge
          In the arctic sky, and from its horrid hair
          Shakes pestilence and war."


We do indeed find that in some minds the discoveries of Tycho Brahe
and Kepler begin to take effect, for, in 1621, Burton in his
_Anatomy of Melancholy_ alludes to them as changing public opinion
somewhat regarding comets; and, just hefore the middle of the
century, Sir Thomas Browne expresses a doubt whether comets produce
such terrible effects, "since it is found that many of them are
above the moon."[181] Yet even as late as the last years of the
seventeenth century we have English authors of much power battling
for this supposed scriptural view and among the natural and typical
results we find, in 1682, Ralph Thoresby, a Fellow of the Royal
Society, terrified at the comet of that year, and writing in his
diary the following passage: "Lord, fit us for whatever changes it
may portend; for, though I am not ignorant that such meteors
proceed from natural causes, yet are they frequently also the
presages of imminent calamities." Interesting is it to note here
that this was Halley's comet, and that Halley was at this very
moment making those scientific studies upon it which were to free
the civilized world forever from such terrors as distressed Thoresby.

The belief in comets as warnings against sin was especially one of
those held "always, everywhere, and by all," and by Eastern
Christians as well as by Western. One of the most striking scenes
in the history of the Eastern Church is that which took place at
the condemnation of Nikon, the great Patriarch of Moscow. Turning
toward his judges, he pointed to a comet then blazing in the sky,
and said, "God's besom shall sweep you all away!"

Of all countries in western Europe, it was in Germany and German
Switzerland that this superstition took strongest hold. That same
depth of religious feeling which produced in those countries the
most terrible growth of witchcraft persecution, brought
superstition to its highest development regarding comets. No
country suffered more from it in the Middle Ages. At the
Reformation Luther declared strongly in favour of it. In one of his
Advent sermons he said, "The heathen write that the comet may
arise from natural causes, but God creates not one that does not
foretoken a sure calamity." Again he said, "Whatever moves in the
heaven in an unusual way is certainly a sign of God's wrath." And
sometimes, yielding to another phase of his belief, he declared
them works of the devil, and declaimed against them as "harlot
stars."[182]

Melanchthon, too, in various letters refers to comets as heralds of
Heaven's wrath, classing them, with evil conjunctions of the
planets and abortive births, among the "signs" referred to in
Scripture. Zwingli, boldest of the greater Reformers in shaking off
traditional beliefs, could not shake off this, and insisted that
the comet of 1531 betokened calamity. Arietus, a leading Protestant
theologian, declared, "The heavens are given us not merely for our
pleasure, but also as a warning of the wrath of God for the
correction of our lives." Lavater insisted that comets are signs of
death or calamity, and cited proofs from Scripture.

Catholic and Protestant strove together for the glory of this
doctrine. It was maintained with especial vigour by Fromundus, the
eminent professor and Doctor of Theology at the Catholic University
of Louvain, who so strongly opposed the Copernican system; at the
beginning of the seventeenth century, even so gifted an astronomer
as Kepler yielded somewhat to the belief; and near the end of that
century Voigt declared that the comet of 1618 clearly presaged the
downfall of the Turkish Empire, and he stigmatized as "atheists and
Epicureans" all who did not believe comets to be God's warnings.[183]


     II. THEOLOGICAL EFFORTS TO CRUSH THE SCIENTIFIC VIEW.

Out of this belief was developed a great series of efforts to
maintain the theological view of comets, and to put down forever
the scientific view. These efforts may be divided into two classes:
those directed toward learned men and scholars, through the
universities, and those directed toward the people at large,
through the pulpits. As to the first of these, that learned men and
scholars might be kept in the paths of "sacred science" and "sound
learning," especial pains was taken to keep all knowledge of
the scientific view of comets as far as possible from students in
the universities. Even to the end of the seventeenth century the
oath generally required of professors of astronomy over a large
part of Europe prevented their teaching that comets are heavenly
bodies obedient to law. Efforts just as earnest were made to fasten
into students' minds the theological theory. Two or three examples
out of many may serve as types. First of these may be named the
teaching of Jacob Heerbrand, professor at the University of
Tubingen, who in 1577 illustrated the moral value of comets by
comparing the Almighty sending a comet, to the judge laying the
executioner's sword on the table between himself and the criminal
in a court of justice; and, again, to the father or schoolmaster
displaying the rod before naughty children. A little later we have
another churchman of great importance in that region, Schickhart,
head pastor and superintendent at Goppingen, preaching and
publishing a comet sermon, in which he denounces those who stare at
such warnings of God without heeding them, and compares them to
"calves gaping at a new barn door." Still later, at the end of the
seventeenth century, we find Conrad Dieterich, director of studies
at the University of Marburg, denouncing all scientific
investigation of comets as impious, and insisting that they are
only to be regarded as "signs and wonders."[184]

The results of this ecclesiastical pressure upon science in the
universities were painfully shown during generation after
generation, as regards both professors and students; and examples
may be given typical of its effects upon each of these two classes.

The first of these is the case of Michael Maestlin. He was by birth
a Swabian Protestant, was educated at Tubingen as a pupil of Apian,
and, after a period of travel, was settled as deacon in the little
parish of Backnang, when the comet of 1577 gave him an occasion to
apply his astronomical studies. His minute and accurate
observation of it is to this day one of the wonders of science. It
seems almost impossible that so much could be accomplished by the
naked eye. His observations agreed with those of Tycho Brahe, and
won for Maestlin the professorship of astronomy in the University
of Heidelberg. No man had so clearly proved the supralunar position
of a comet, or shown so conclusively that its motion was not
erratic, but regular. The young astronomer, though Apian's pupil,
was an avowed Copernican and the destined master and friend of
Kepler. Yet, in the treatise embodying his observations, he felt it
necessary to save his reputation for orthodoxy by calling the comet
a "new and horrible prodigy," and by giving a chapter of "conjectures
on the signification of the present comet," in which he proves
from history that this variety of comet betokens peace, but
peace purchased by a bloody victory. That he really believed in
this theological theory seems impossible; the very fact that his
observations had settled the supralunar character and regular
motion of comets proves this. It was a humiliation only to be
compared to that of Osiander when he wrote his grovelling preface
to the great book of Copernicus. Maestlin had his reward: when, a
few years, later his old teacher, Apian, was driven from his chair
at Tubingen for refusing to sign the _Lutheran Concord-Book_, Maestlin
was elected to his place.

Not less striking was the effect of this theological pressure upon
the minds of students. Noteworthy as an example of this is the book
of the Leipsic lawyer, Buttner. From no less than eighty-six
biblical texts he proves the Almighty's purpose of using the
heavenly bodies for the instruction of men as to future events, and
then proceeds to frame exhaustive tables, from which, the time and
place of the comet's first appearance being known, its
signification can be deduced. This manual he gave forth as a
triumph of religious science, under the name of the _Comet
Hour-Book_.[185]

The same devotion to the portent theory is found in the
universities of Protestant Holland. Striking is it to see in the
sixteenth century, after Tycho Brahe's discovery, the Dutch
theologian, Gerard Vossius, Professor of Theology and Eloquence at
Leyden, lending his great weight to the superstition. "The history
of all times," he says, "shows comets to be the messengers of
misfortune. It does not follow that they are endowed with
intelligence, but that there is a deity who makes use of them to
call the human race to repentance." Though familiar with the works
of Tycho Brahe, he finds it "hard to believe" that all comets are
ethereal, and adduces several historical examples of sublunary ones.

Nor was this attempt to hold back university teaching to the old
view of comets confined to Protestants. The Roman Church was, if
possible, more strenuous in the same effort. A few examples will
serve as types, representing the orthodox teaching at the great
centres of Catholic theology.

One of these is seen in Spain. The eminent jurist Torreblanca was
recognised as a controlling authority in all the universities of
Spain, and from these he swayed in the seventeenth century the
thought of Catholic Europe, especially as to witchcraft and the
occult powers in Nature. He lays down the old cometary superstition
as one of the foundations of orthodox teaching: Begging the
question, after the fashion of his time, he argues that comets can
not be stars, because new stars always betoken good, while comets
betoken evil.

The same teaching was given in the Catholic universities of the
Netherlands. Fromundus, at Louvain, the enemy of Galileo, steadily
continued his crusade against all cometary heresy.[186]

But a still more striking case is seen in Italy. The reverend
Father Augustin de Angelis, rector of the Clementine College at
Rome, as late as 1673, after the new cometary theory had been
placed beyond reasonable doubt, and even while Newton was working
out its final demonstration, published a third edition of his
_Lectures on Meteorology_. It was dedicated to the Cardinal of
Hesse, and bore the express sanction of the Master of the Sacred
Palace at Rome and of the head of the religious order to which De
Angelis belonged. This work deserves careful analysis, not only as
representing the highest and most approved university teaching of
the time at the centre of Roman Catholic Christendom, but still
more because it represents that attempt to make a compromise
between theology and science, or rather the attempt to confiscate
science to the uses of theology, which we so constantly find
whenever the triumph of science in any field has become inevitable.

As to the scientific element in this compromise, De Angelis holds,
in his general introduction regarding meteorology, that the main
material cause of comets is "exhalation," and says, "If this
exhalation is thick and sticky, it blazes into a comet." And again
he returns to the same view, saying that "one form of exhalation
is dense, hence easily inflammable and long retentive of fire, from
which sort are especially generated comets." But it is in his third
lecture that he takes up comets specially, and his discussion of
them is extended through the fourth, fifth, and sixth lectures.
Having given in detail the opinions of various theologians and
philosophers, he declares his own in the form of two conclusions.
The first of these is that "comets are not heavenly bodies, but
originate in the earth's atmosphere below the moon; for everything
heavenly is eternal and incorruptible, but comets have a beginning
and ending--_ergo_, comets can not be heavenly bodies." This, we may
observe, is levelled at the observations and reasonings of Tycho
Brahe and Kepler, and is a very good illustration of the scholastic
and mediaeval method--the method which blots out an ascertained
fact by means of a metaphysical formula. His second conclusion is
that "comets are of elemental and sublunary nature; for they are
an exhalation hot and dry, fatty and well condensed, inflammable
and kindled in the uppermost regions of the air." He then goes on
to answer sundry objections to this mixture of metaphysics and
science, and among other things declares that "the fatty, sticky
material of a comet may be kindled from sparks falling from fiery
heavenly bodies or from a thunderholt"; and, again, that the
thick, fatty, sticky quality of the comet holds its tail in shape,
and that, so far are comets from having their paths beyond the,
moon's orbit, as Tycho Brahe and Kepler thought, he himself in 1618
saw "a bearded comet so near the summit of Vesuvius that it almost
seemed to touch it." As to sorts and qualities of comets, he
accepts Aristotle's view, and divides them into bearded and
tailed.[187] He goes on into long disquisitions upon their colours,
forms, and motions. Under this latter head he again plunges deep
into a sea of metaphysical considerations, and does not reappear
until he brings up his compromise in the opinion that their
movement is as yet uncertain and not understood, but that, if we
must account definitely for it, we must say that it is effected by
angels especially assigned to this service by Divine Providence.
But, while proposing this compromise between science and theology
as to the origin and movement of comets, he will hear to none as
regards their mission as "signs and wonders" and presages of
evil. He draws up a careful table of these evils, arranging them in
the following order. Drought, wind, earthquake, tempest, famine,
pestilence, war, and, to clinch the matter, declares that the comet
observed by him in 1618 brought not only war, famine, pestilence,
and earthquake, but also a general volcanic eruption, "which would
have destroyed Naples, had not the blood of the invincible martyr
Januarius withstood it."

It will be observed, even from this sketch, that, while the learned
Father Augustin thus comes infallibly to the mediaeval conclusion,
he does so very largely by scientific and essentially modern
processes, giving unwonted prominence to observation, and at times
twisting scientific observation into the strand with his
metaphysics. The observations and methods of his science are
sometimes shrewd, sometimes comical. Good examples of the latter
sort are such as his observing that the comet stood very near the
summit of Vesuvius, and his reasoning that its tail was kept in
place by its stickiness. But observations and reasonings of this
sort are always the first homage paid by theology to science as the
end of their struggle approaches.[188]

Equally striking is an example seen a little later in another part
of Europe; and it is the more noteworthy because Halley and Newton
had already fully established the modern scientific theory. Just at
the close of the seventeenth century the Jesuit Reinzer, professor
at Linz, put forth his _Meteorologia Philosophico-Politica_, in
which all natural phenomena received both a physical and a moral
interpretation. It was profusely and elaborately illustrated, and
on account of its instructive contents was in 1712 translated into
German for the unlearned reader. The comet receives, of course,
great attention. "It appears," says Reinzer, "only then in the
heavens when the latter punish the earth, and through it [the
comet] not only predict but bring to pass all sorts of calamity....
And, to that end, its tail serves for a rod, its hair for weapons
and arrows, its light for a threat, and its heat for a sign of
anger and vengeance." Its warnings are threefold: (1) "Comets,
generated in the air, betoken _naturally_ drought, wind, earthquake,
famine, and pestilence." (2) "Comets can indirectly, in view of
their material, betoken wars, tumults, and the death of princes;
for, being hot and dry, they bring the moistnesses [_Feuchtigkeiten_]
in the human body to an extraordinary heat and dryness, increasing
the gall; and, since the emotions depend on the temperament and
condition of the body, men are through this change driven to
violent deeds, quarrels, disputes, and finally to arms: especially
is this the result with princes, who are more delicate and also
more arrogant than other men, and whose moistnesses are more liable
to inflammation of this sort, inasmuch as they live in luxury and
seldom restrain themselves from those things which in such a dry
state of the heavens are especially injurious." (3) "All comets,
whatever prophetic significance they may have naturally in and of
themselves, are yet principally, according to the Divine pleasure,
heralds of the death of great princes, of war, and of other such
great calamities; and this is known and proved, first of all, from
the words of Christ himself: `Nation shall rise against nation, and
kingdom against kingdom; and great earthquakes shall be in divers
places, and famines, and pestilences; and fearful sights and great
signs shall there be from heaven.'"[189]

While such pains was taken to keep the more highly educated classes
in the "paths of scriptural science and sound learning; at the
universities, equal efforts were made to preserve the cometary
orthodoxy of the people at large by means of the pulpits. Out of
the mass of sermons for this purpose which were widely circulated
I will select just two as typical, and they are worthy of careful
study as showing some special dangers of applying theological
methods to scientific facts. In the second half of the sixteenth
century the recognised capital of orthodox Lutheranism was
Magdeburg, and in the region tributary to this metropolis no Church
official held a more prominent station than the "Superintendent,"
or Lutheran bishop, of the neighbouring Altmark. It was this
dignitary, Andreas Celichius by name, who at Magdeburg, in 1578,
gave to the press his _Theological Reminder of the New Comet_. After
deprecating as blasphemous the attempt of Aristotle to explain the
phenomenon otherwise than as a supernatural warning from God to
sinful man, he assures his hearers that "whoever would know the
comet's real source and nature must not merely gape and stare at
the scientific theory that it is an earthy, greasy, tough, and
sticky vapour and mist, rising into the upper air and set ablaze by
the celestial heat." Far more important for them is it to know what
this vaponr is. It is really, in the opinion of Celichius, nothing
more or less than "the thick smoke of human sins, rising every
day, every hour, every moment, full of stench and horror, before
the face of God, and becoming gradually so thick as to form a
comet, with curled and plaited tresses, which at last is kindled by
the hot and fiery anger of the Supreme Heavenly Judge." He adds
that it is probably only through the prayers and tears of Christ
that this blazing monument of human depravity becomes visible to
mortals. In support of this theory, he urges the "coming up before
God" of the wickedness of Sodom and Gomorrah and of Nineveh, and
especially the words of the prophet regarding Babylon, "Her stench
and rottenness is come up before me." That the anger of God can
produce the conflagration without any intervention of Nature is
proved from the Psalms, "He sendeth out his word and melteth
them." From the position of the comet, its course, and the
direction of its tail he augurs especially the near approach of the
judgment day, though it may also betoken, as usual, famine,
pestilence, and war. "Yet even in these days," he mourns, "there
are people reckless and giddy enough to pay no heed to such
celestial warnings, and these even cite in their own defence the
injunction of Jeremiah not to fear signs in the heavens." This idea
he explodes, and shows that good and orthodox Christians, while not
superstitious like the heathen, know well "that God is not bound
to his creation and the ordinary course of Nature, but must often,
especially in these last dregs of the world, resort to irregular
means to display his anger at human guilt."[191]

The other typical case occurred in the following century and in
another part of Germany. Conrad Dieterich was, during the first
half of the seventeenth century, a Lutheran ecclesiastic of the
highest authority. His ability as a theologian had made him
Archdeacon of Marburg, Professor of Philosophy and Director of
Studies at the University of Giessen, and "Superintendent," or
Lutheran bishop, in southwestern Germany. In the year 162O, on the
second Sunday in Advent, in the great Cathedral of Ulm, he
developed the orthodox doctrine of comets in a sermon, taking up
the questions: 1. What are comets? 2. What do they indicate? 3.
What have we to do with their significance? This sermon marks an
epoch. Delivered in that stronghold of German Protestantism and by
a prelate of the highest standing, it was immediately printed,
prefaced by three laudatory poems from different men of note, and
sent forth to drive back the scientific, or, as it was called, the
"godless," view of comets. The preface shows that Dieterich was
sincerely alarmed by the tendency to regard comets as natural
appearances. His text was taken from the twenty-fifth verse of the
twenty-first chapter of St. Luke: "And there shall be signs in the
sun, and in the moon, and in the stars; and upon the earth distress
of nations, with perplexity; the sea and the waves roaring." As to
what comets are, he cites a multitude of philosophers, and, finding
that they differ among themselves, he uses a form of argument not
uncommon from that day to this, declaring that this difference of
opinion proves that there is no solution of the problem save in
revelation, and insisting that comets are "signs especially sent
by the Almighty to warn the earth." An additional proof of this he
finds in the forms of comets. One, he says, took the form of a
trumpet; another, of a spear; another of a goat; another, of a
torch; another, of a sword; another, of an arrow; another, of a
sabre; still another, of a bare arm. From these forms of comets he
infers that we may divine their purpose. As to their creation, he
quotes John of Damascus and other early Church authorities in
behalf of the idea that each comet is a star newly created at the
Divine command, out of nothing, and that it indicates the wrath of
God. As to their purpose, having quoted largely from the Bible and
from Luther, he winds up by insisting that, as God can make nothing
in vain, comets must have some distinct object; then, from Isaiah
and Joel among the prophets, from Matthew, Mark, and Luke among the
evangelists, from Origen and John Chrysostom among the fathers,
from Luther and Melanchthon among the Reformers, he draws various
texts more or less conclusive to prove that comets indicate evil
and only evil; and he cites Luther's Advent sermon to the effect
that, though comets may arise in the course of Nature, they are
still signs of evil to mankind. In answer to the theory of sundry
naturalists that comets are made up of "a certain fiery, warm,
sulphurous, saltpetery, sticky fog," he declaims: "Our sins, our
sins: they are the fiery heated vapours, the thick, sticky,
sulphurous clouds which rise from the earth toward heaven before
God." Throughout the sermon Dieterich pours contempt over all men
who simply investigate comets as natural objects, calls special
attention to a comet then in the heavens resembling a long broom or
bundle of rods, and declares that he and his hearers can only
consider it rightly "when we see standing before us our Lord God
in heaven as an angry father with a rod for his children." In
answer to the question what comets signify, he commits himself
entirely to the idea that they indicate the wrath of God, and
therefore calamities of every sort. Page after page is filled with
the records of evils following comets. Beginning with the creation
of the world, he insists that the first comet brought on the
deluge of Noah, and cites a mass of authorities, ranging from Moses
and Isaiah to Albert the Great and Melanchthon, in support of the
view that comets precede earthquakes, famines, wars, pestilences,
and every form of evil. He makes some parade of astronomical
knowledge as to the greatness of the sun and moon, but relapses
soon into his old line of argument. Imploring his audience not to
be led away from the well-established belief of Christendom and the
principles of their fathers, he comes back to his old assertion,
insists that "our sins are the inflammable material of which
comets are made," and winds up with a most earnest appeal to the
Almighty to spare his people.[193]

Similar efforts from the pulpit were provoked by the great comet of
1680. Typical among these was the effort in Switzerland of Pastor
Heinrich Erni, who, from the Cathedral of Zurich, sent a circular
letter to the clergy of that region showing the connection of the
eleventh and twelfth verses of the first chapter of Jeremiah with
the comet, giving notice that at his suggestion the authorities had
proclaimed a solemn fast, and exhorting the clergy to preach
earnestly on the subject of this warning.

Nor were the interpreters of the comet's message content with
simple prose. At the appearance of the comet of 1618, Grasser and
Gross, pastors and doctors of theology at Basle, put forth a
collection of doggerel rhymes to fasten the orthodox theory into
the minds of school-children and peasants. One of these may be
translated:

          "I am a Rod in God's right hand
          threatening the German and foreign land."


Others for a similar purpose taught:


          "Eight things there be a Comet brings,
               When it on high doth horrid range:
          Wind, Famine, Plague, and Death to Kings,
               War, Earthquakes, Floods, and Direful Change."


Great ingenuity was shown in meeting the advance of science, in the
universities and schools, with new texts of Scripture; and Stephen
Spleiss, Rector of the Gymnasium at Schaffhausen, got great credit
by teaching that in the vision of Jeremiah the "almond rod" was
a tailed comet, and the "seething pot" a bearded one.[194]

It can be easily understood that such authoritative utterances as
that of Dieterich must have produced a great effect throughout
Protestant Christendom; and in due time we see their working in New
England. That same tendency to provincialism, which, save at rare
intervals, has been the bane of Massachusetts thought from that day
to this, appeared; and in 1664 we find Samuel Danforth arguing
from the Bible that "comets are portentous signals of great and
notable changes," and arguing from history that they "have been
many times heralds of wrath to a secure and impenitent world." He
cites especially the comet of 1652, which appeared just before Mr.
Cotton's sickness and disappeared after his death. Morton also, in
his _Memorial_ recording the death of John Putnam, alludes to the
comet of 1662 as "a very signal testimony that God had then
removed a bright star and a shining light out of the heaven of his
Church here into celestial glory above." Again he speaks of another
comet, insisting that "it was no fiery meteor caused by
exhalation, but it was sent immediately by God to awaken the secure
world," and goes on to show how in that year "it pleased God to
smite the fruits of the earth--namely, the wheat in special--with
blasting and mildew, whereby much of it was spoiled and became
profitable for nothing, and much of it worth little, being light
and empty. This was looked upon by the judicious and conscientious
of the land as a speaking providence against the unthankfulness of
many,... as also against voluptuousness and abuse of the good
creatures of God by licentiousness in drinking and fashions in
apparel, for the obtaining whereof a great part of the principal
grain was oftentimes unnecessarily expended."

But in 1680 a stronger than either of these seized upon the
doctrine and wielded it with power. Increase Mather, so open always
to ideas from Europe, and always so powerful for good or evil in
the colonies, preached his sermon on "Heaven's Alarm to the
World,... wherein is shown that fearful sights and signs in the
heavens are the presages of great calamities at hand." The texts
were taken from the book of Revelation: "And the third angel
sounded, and there fell a great star from heaven, burning, as it
were a lamp," and "Behold, the third woe cometh quickly." In this,
as in various other sermons, he supports the theological cometary
theory fully. He insists that "we are fallen into the dregs of
time," and that the day of judgment is evidently approaching. He
explains away the words of Jeremiah--"Be not dismayed at signs in
the heavens"--and shows that comets have been forerunners of
nearly every form of evil. Having done full justice to evils thus
presaged in scriptural times, he begins a similar display in modern
history by citing blazing stars which foretold the invasions of
Goths, Huns, Saracens, and Turks, and warns gainsayers by citing
the example of Vespasian, who, after ridiculing a comet, soon died.
The general shape and appearance of comets, he thinks, betoken
their purpose, and he cites Tertullian to prove them "God's sharp
razors on mankind, whereby he doth poll, and his scythe whereby he
doth shear down multitudes of sinful creatures." At last, rising to
a fearful height, he declares: "For the Lord hath fired his beacon
in the heavens among the stars of God there; the fearful sight is
not yet out of sight. The warning piece of heaven is going off.
Now, then, if the Lord discharge his murdering pieces from on high,
and men be found in their sins unfit for death, their blood shall
be upon them." And again, in an agony of supplication, he cries
out: "Do we see the sword blazing over us? Let it put us upon
crying to God, that the judgment be diverted and not return upon us
again so speedily.... Doth God threaten our very heavens? O pray
unto him, that he would not take away stars and send comets to
succeed them."[195]

Two years later, in August, 1682, he followed this with another
sermon on "The Latter Sign," "wherein is showed that the voice of
God in signal providences, especially when repeated and iterated,
ought to be hearkened unto." Here, too, of course, the comet comes
in for a large share of attention. But his tone is less sure: even
in the midst of all his arguments appears an evident misgiving. The
thoughts of Newton in science and Bayle in philosophy were
evidently tending to accomplish the prophecy of Seneca. Mather's
alarm at this is clear. His natural tendency is to uphold the idea
that a comet is simply a fire-ball flung from the hand of an
avenging God at a guilty world, but he evidently feels obliged to
yield something to the scientific spirit; hence, in the _Discourse
concerning Comets_, published in 1683, he declares: "There are
those who think that, inasmuch as comets may be supposed to proceed
from natural causes, there is no speaking voice of Heaven in them
beyond what is to be said of all other works of God. But certain it
is that many things which may happen according to the course of
Nature are portentous signs of Divine anger and prognostics of
great evils hastening upon the world." He then notices the eclipse
of August, 1672, and adds: "That year the college was eclipsed by
the death of the learned president there, worthy Mr. Chauncey and
two colonies--namely, Massachusetts and Plymouth--by the death of
two governors, who died within a twelvemonth after.... Shall, then,
such mighty works of God as comets are be insignificant things?"[196]


                III. THE INVASION OF SCEPTICISM.

Vigorous as Mather's argument is, we see scepticism regarding
"signs" continuing to invade the public mind; and, in spite of his
threatenings, about twenty years after we find a remarkable
evidence of this progress in the fact that this scepticism has
seized upon no less a personage than that colossus of orthodoxy,
his thrice illustrious son, Cotton Mather himself; and him we find,
in 1726, despite the arguments of his father, declaring in his
_Manuductio_: "Perhaps there may be some need for me to caution you
against being dismayed at the signs of the heavens, or having any
superstitious fancies upon eclipses and the like.... I am willing
that you be apprehensive of nothing portentous in blazing stars.
For my part, I know not whether all our worlds, and even the sun
itself, may not fare the better for them."[197]

Curiously enough, for this scientific scepticism in Cotton Mather
there was a cause identical with that which had developed
superstition in the mind of his father. The same provincial
tendency to receive implicitly any new European fashion in thinking
or speech wrought upon both, plunging one into superstition and
drawing the other out of it.

European thought, which New England followed, had at last broken
away in great measure from the theological view of comets as signs
and wonders. The germ of this emancipating influence was mainly in
the great utterance of Seneca; and we find in nearly every century
some evidence that this germ was still alive. This life became more
and more evident after the Reformation period, even though
theologians in every Church did their best to destroy it. The first
series of attacks on the old theological doctrine were mainly
founded in philosophic reasoning. As early as the first half of the
sixteenth century we hear Julius Caesar Scaliger protesting against
the cometary superstition as "ridiculous folly."[197b] Of more
real importance was the treatise of Blaise de Vigenere, published
at Paris in 1578. In this little book various statements regarding
comets as signs of wrath or causes of evils are given, and then
followed by a very gentle and quiet discussion, usually tending to
develop that healthful scepticism which is the parent of
investigation. A fair example of his mode of treating the subject
is seen in his dealing with a bit of "sacred science." This was
simply that "comets menace princes and kings with death because
they live more delicately than other people; and, therefore, the
air thickened and corrupted by a comet would be naturally more
injurious to them than to common folk who live on coarser food."
To this De Vigenere answers that there are very many persons who
live on food as delicate as that enjoyed by princes and kings, and
yet receive no harm from comets. He then goes on to show that many
of the greatest monarchs in history have met death without any
comet to herald it.

In the same year thoughtful scepticism of a similar sort found an
advocate in another part of Europe. Thomas Erastus, the learned and
devout professor of medicine at Heidelberg, put forth a letter
dealing in the plainest terms with the superstition. He argued
especially that there could be no natural connection between the
comet and pestilence, since the burning of an exhalation must tend
to purify rather than to infect the air. In the following year the
eloquent Hungarian divine Dudith published a letter in which the
theological theory was handled even more shrewdly. for he argued
that, if comets were caused by the sins of mortals, they would
never be absent from the sky. But these utterances were for the
time brushed aside by the theological leaders of thought as shallow
or impious.

In the seventeenth century able arguments against the superstition,
on general grounds, began to be multiplied. In Holland, Balthasar
Bekker opposed this, as he opposed the witchcraft delusion,
on general philosophic grounds; and Lubienitzky wrote in
a compromising spirit to prove that comets were as often followed
by good as by evil events. In France, Pierre Petit, formerly
geographer of Louis XIII, and an intimate friend of Descartes,
addressed to the young Louis XIV a vehement protest against the
superstition, basing his arguments not on astronomy, but on common
sense. A very effective part of the little treatise was devoted to
answering the authority of the fathers of the early Church. To do
this, he simplv reminded his readers that St. Augustine and St.
John Damascenus had also opposed the doctrine of the antipodes. The
book did good service in France, and was translated in Germany a
few years later.[199]

All these were denounced as infidels and heretics, yet none the
less did they set men at thinking, and prepare the way for a far
greater genius; for toward the end of the same century the
philosophic attack was taken up by Pierre Bayle, and in the whole
series of philosophic champions he is chief. While professor at the
University of Sedan he had observed the alarm caused by the comet
of 1680, and he now brought all his reasoning powers to bear upon
it. Thoughts deep and witty he poured out in volume after volume.
Catholics and Protestants were alike scandalized. Catholic France
spurned him, and Jurieu, the great Reformed divine, called his
cometary views "atheism," and tried hard to have Protestant
Holland condemn him. Though Bayle did not touch immediately the
mass of mankind, he wrought with power upon men who gave themselves
the trouble of thinking. It was indeed unfortunate for the Church
that theologians, instead of taking the initiative in this matter,
left it to Bayle; for, in tearing down the pretended scriptural
doctrine of comets, he tore down much else: of all men in his time,
no one so thoroughly prepared the way for Voltaire.

Bayle's whole argument is rooted in the prophecy of Seneca. He
declares: "Comets are bodies subject to the ordinary law of
Nature, and not prodigies amenable to no law." He shows
historically that there is no reason to regard comets as portents
of earthly evils. As to the fact that such evils occur after the
passage of comets across the sky, he compares the person believing
that comets cause these evils to a woman looking out of a window
into a Paris street and believing that the carriages pass because
she looks out. As to the accomplishment of some predictions, he
cites the shrewd saying of Henry IV, to the effect that "the
public will remember one prediction that comes true better than all
the rest that have proved false." Finally, he sums up by saying:
"The more we study man, the more does it appear that pride is his
ruling passion, and that he affects grandeur even in his misery.
Mean and perishable creature that he is, he has been able to
persuade men that he can not die without disturbing the whole
course of Nature and obliging the heavens to put themselves to
fresh expense. In order to light his funeral pomp. Foolish and
ridiculous vanity! If we had a just idea of the universe, we should
soon comprehend that the death or birth of a prince is too
insignificant a matter to stir the heavens."[200]

This great philosophic champion of right reason was followed by a
literary champion hardly less famous; for Fontenelle now gave to
the French theatre his play of _The Comet_, and a point of capital
importance in France was made by rendering the army of ignorance
ridiculous.[200b]

Such was the line of philosophic and literary attack, as developed
from Scaliger to Fontenelle. But beneath and in the midst of all of
it, from first to last, giving firmness, strength, and new sources
of vitality to it, was the steady development of scientific effort;
and to the series of great men who patiently wrought and thought
out the truth by scientific methods through all these centuries
belong the honours of the victory.

For generations men in various parts of the world had been making
careful observations on these strange bodies. As far back as the
time when Luther and Melanchthon and Zwingli were plunged into
alarm by various comets from 1531 to 1539, Peter Apian kept his
head sufficiently cool to make scientific notes of their paths
through the heavens. A little later, when the great comet of 1556
scared popes, emperors, and reformers alike, such men as Fabricius
at Vienna and Heller at Nuremberg quietly observed its path. In
vain did men like Dieterich and Heerbrand and Celich from various
parts of Germany denounce such observations and investigations as
impious; they were steadily continued, and in 1577 came the first
which led to the distinct foundation of the modern doctrine. In
that year appeared a comet which again plunged Europe into alarm.
In every European country this alarm was strong, but in Germany
strongest of all. The churches were filled with terror-stricken
multitudes. Celich preaching at Magdeburg was echoed by Heerbrand
preaching at Tubingen, and both these from thousands of other
pulpits, Catholic and Protestant, throughout Europe. In the midst
of all this din and outcry a few men quietly but steadily observed
the monster; and Tycho Brahe announced, as the result, that its
path lay farther from the earth than the orbit of the moon. Another
great astronomical genius, Kepler, confirmed this. This distinct
beginning of the new doctrine was bitterly opposed by theologians;
they denounced it as one of the evil results of that scientific
meddling with the designs of Providence against which they had so
long declaimed in pulpits and professors' chairs; they even brought
forward some astronomers ambitious or wrong-headed enough to
testify that Tycho and Kepler were in error[201]

Nothing could be more natural than such opposition; for this simple
announcement by Tycho Brahe began a new era. It shook the very
foundation of cometary superstition. The Aristotelian view,
developed by the theologians, was that what lies within the moon's
orbit appertains to the earth and is essentially transitory and
evil, while what lies beyond it belongs to the heavens and is
permanent, regular, and pure. Tycho Brahe and Kepler, therefore,
having by means of scientific observation and thought taken comets
out of the category of meteors and appearances in the neighbourhood
of the earth, and placed them among the heavenly bodies, dealt a
blow at the very foundations of the theological argument, and gave
a great impulse to the idea that comets are themselves heavenly
bodies moving regularly and in obedience to law.


        IV. THEOLOGICAL EFFORTS AT COMPROMISE.--THE FINAL
                       VICTORY OF SCIENCE.

Attempts were now made to compromise. It was declared that, while
some comets were doubtless supralunar, some must be sublunar. But
this admission was no less fatal on another account. During many
centuries the theory favoured by the Church had been, as we have
seen, that the earth was surrounded by hollow spheres, concentric
and transparent, forming a number of glassy strata incasing one
another "like the different coatings of an onion," and that each
of these in its movement about the earth carries one or more of the
heavenly bodies. Some maintained that these spheres were crystal;

