February 22, 1632, Galileo publishes his Dialogue Concerning the Two Chief World Systems – Ptolemaic and Copernican



The engraved frontispiece from Galileo's Dialogue depicts three great students of astronomy
 in dialogue: from left to right, Aristotle (384–322 BCE), Ptolemy (90–168 CE), and
Nicholas Copernicus (1473–1543). Ptolemy holds an armillary sphere with the
Earth at its center, while Copernicus grasps a heliocentric model of the solar system.

On February 22, 1632, Galileo Galilei (February 15, 1564 to January 8, 1642) published “Dialogue Concerning the Two Chief World Systems – Ptolemaic and Copernican”  Galileo’s famous work consists of a fictional conversation (a dialogue) between three people over the course of four days on the Ptolemaic and Copernican views of the world and its place in the universe.   Here's a link to Galileo's Dialogue: Galileo's Dialogue.

Galileo would begin his most famous of all his works work by telling the audience that: “since bitter death has deprived Venice and Florence [Ptolemy and Copernicus] of those two great luminaries in the very meridian of their years, I have resolved to make their fame live on in these pages, so far as my poor abilities will permit, by introducing them as interlocutors in the present argument.”

Within his book are three characters:

• Salviati, a proponent of the Copernican theory that (among other things) the earth revolves around the Sun of whom Galileo described as possessing “…a sublime intellect which fed no more hungrily upon any pleasure than it did upon fine meditations;
• Simplicio (oftentimes thought of as a simpleton) who is supporter of the Ptolemaic model that the earth is fixed within the universe, does not move, and that sun and all heavenly bodies revolve around our planet; and finally,
• Sagredo, “…a man of noble extraction and trenchant wit,” who represents an honest broker striving to hearing all sides.

From the Fourth Edition of Galileo's Dialogue (dated 1700) 

which includes an engraving depicting 

Aristotle, Copernicus and Ptolemy discussing the

heliocentric and geocentric models of the solar system.

The dialogue between these three fictional characters takes place over a four day period with Salviati arguing against Aristotelian physics.  Sagredo, the neutral observer, summarized the first day of the dialogue as consisting of:

[A] preliminary examination of the two following opinions as to which is the more probable and reasonable. The first holds the substance of the heavenly bodies to be ingenerable, incorruptible, inalterable, invariant, and in a word free from all mutations except those of situation, and accordingly to be a quintessence most different from our generable, corruptible, alterable bodies. The other opinion, removing this disparity from the world’s parts, considers the earth to enjoy the same perfection as other integral bodies of the universe; in short, to be a movable and a moving body no less than the moon, Jupiter, Venus, or any other planet. Later many detailed parallels were drawn between the earth and the moon. More comparisons were made with the moon than with other planets, perhaps from our having more and better sensible evidence about the former by reason of its lesser distance.

Day two involved discussing the law of inertia and whether or not the earth itself is immovable.  Interestingly, in defending his position that the earth does not move, among other things, Simplicio argues that:

·        An object dropped from a height will fall to the ground directly at a right angle), while an object dropped from the mast of a moving ship will not fall perpendicularly, but somewhat behind the direction of the ships motion. Similar results are obtained from throwing or shooting an object upwards to a great height.

·        Cannonballs fired point-blank east and west travel the same distance; those fired due north and due south do not deviate from their course.

·        If the earth were moving westerly at the speed required to complete one revolution in twenty-four hours, clouds could only move eastward, we should feel a constant easterly wind, and birds could never fly quickly enough to move westward; none of this occurs.

·        If the earth were spinning at such a rate, because of centrifugal force, pigs (and everyone and everything else) would fly off the face of the earth.

On Day three Salviati discusses astronomical phenomena and argues that:

[I]f it is true that the center of the universe is that point around which all the orbs and world bodies (that is, the planets) move, it is quite certain that not the earth, but the sun, is to be found at the center of the universe. Hence, as for this first general conception, the central place is the sun’s, and the earth is to be found as far away from the center as it is from the sun.

The fourth and final day of the discussion consists of Salviati discussing among other things, the ebb and flow of tides; the moon’s effect on the tides; points out that Aristotle “ascribes to miracles all things whose causes are hidden;” discusses wind currents; and in apparent frustration, tells Simplicio that, “…no one can ever win against you, but must always lose…it would be better not to play.”  Later Simplicio arrogantly  tells Salviati that he has “…nothing further to say; neither on my own account, because of my lack of inventiveness, nor on that of others, because of the novelty of the opinion. But I do indeed believe that if this were broadcast among the schools, there would be no lack of philosophers who would be able to cast doubt upon it.”
 

Galileo Galilei painted in 1636 by
Giusto Sustermans,
the 17th c. Baroque, Flemish painter.

Certainly a wildly oversimplification of Galileo’s February 22, 1632 Dialogue that resulted in his being convicted of hersey, forced to recant his ideas, and his work placed on Catholic Church's Index of Forbidden Books (not removed until 1835, here's a partical list: Catholic Church list of banned authors/books).

Iwo Jima Memorial

Iwo Jima Memorial, a set on Flickr.

Ed Feeny's photostream

Ed Feeny's photostream on Flickr.

MG Gouverneur K. Warren

MG Gouverneur K. Warren, a photo by Ed Feeny on Flickr.

Today’s the 150th anniversary of the Union victory at Fort Donelson

Seriously derelict on the Civil War front—what can I say?  Sooo…today’s the 150^th anniversary of the Union victory at Fort Donelson.  For those who ran to the fridge during the commercials, here’s a very—very—very, brief recap of what’s been happening.

Recall how some of our more libertarian inclined countrymen felt that an intrusive, overeaching Federal government would take away their individual liberty and property rights by either restricting their right to own another human being—I’m sorry, their "property," or abolish it all together.  Of course some call the whole thing a “States Rights” issue which is clearly a euphemism for…something…not really sure what.  What is certain is that our State’s Rights libertarian friends certainly weren’t advocating a State’s right to levy or regulate taxes, raise a military, build schools, roads, hospitals, construct water treatment plants, plant their own crops, enter into treaties, or anything else that I can figure out.  Indeed, I think South Carolina’s “Declaration of the Immediate Causes Which Induce and Justify the Secession of South Carolina from the Federal Union” pretty much sums the whole thing up:

"An increasing hostility on the part of the non-slaveholding States to the institution of slavery, has led to a disregard of their obligations, and the laws of the General Government have ceased to effect the objects of the Constitution. The [northern states]…have enacted laws which either nullify the Acts of Congress or render useless any attempt to execute them…the fugitive is discharged from service or labor claimed…In the State of New York even the right of transit for a slave has been denied by her tribunals; and the States of Ohio and Iowa have refused to surrender to justice fugitives charged with murder, and with inciting servile insurrection in the State of Virginia. Thus the constituted compact has been deliberately broken and disregarded by the non-slaveholding States, and the consequence follows that South Carolina is released from her obligation.

…The right of property in slaves was recognized by giving to free persons distinct political rights, by giving them the right to represent, and burthening them with direct taxes for three-fifths of their slaves; by authorizing the importation of slaves for twenty years; and by stipulating for the rendition of fugitives from labor."

See: http://sunsite.utk.edu/civil-war/reasons.html. 

I think the great Presbyterian minister and theologian Albert Barnes said it best when he wrote that,

“The Bible is the acknowledged standard of morals in this nation…there are perhaps no questions of more importance to our country than those which pertain to the subject of slavery…there is nothing connected with our national interests which is not affected more or less by slavery.”  Of course he went on to say that slavery was “intimately allied with religion”

But that’s missing the point.  See: Inquiry into the Scriptural Views of Slavery, 1846, p. 21 @ http://www.archive.org/stream/inquiryintoscrip1846barn#page/20/mode/2up/search/the+acknowledged+moral+standard).

As an aside, here: http://www.nytimes.com/1860/11/13/news/why-not-let-south-carolina-secede.html?pagewanted=all, was an amusing and somewhat interesting letter to the editorial from the November 13, 1860 New York Times titled “Why Not Let South Carolina Secede?”  Ahhh…things haven’t really changed all that much ‘lo these past 150 years or so, have they?

But in any event, our libertarian brothers collectively said F-it and pre-emptively succeeded from the Union while James Buchanan was President (lest we forget that Lincoln wasn’t sworn in until March 4, 1861, while South Carolina started the secession band wagon on December 20, 1860; followed by Mississippi on January 9, 1861; Florida on January 10, 1861; Alabama on January 11, 1861, and so on).

So the states seceded, Lincoln was inaugurated; the Confederates attack Ft. Sumter in April 1861; Lincoln called up 75,000 troops ‘n  Davis called up his folks; Winfield Scott devised the Anaconda Plan to strangle the south into surrendering; and…

On July 26, 1861, the Battle of First Manassas where Thomas Jackson would earn the nickname Stonewall and the Confederates would beat the Union in Northern Virginia.

But what was going on out west, say, in Kentucky, a neutral state?

Recall that Lincoln said that while he hoped to have God on his side, he “must have Kentucky.”  On September22, 1861, Lincoln warned:

“I think to lose Kentucky is nearly the same as to lose the whole game. Kentucky gone, we can not hold Missouri, nor, as I think, Maryland. These all against us, and the job on our hands is too large for us. We would as well consent to separation at once, including the surrender of this capitol.”

Certainly an oversimplification, but skip forward to January 11, 1862, when Union Ironclads defeated Confederates in western Kentucky on the Mississippi River in the Battle of Lucas Bend.

Then on January 19, 1862, BG Felix Zollicoffer invaded eastern Kentucky through the Cumberland Gap and was defeated by Union BG George Thomas (one of my personal hero’s).  Indeed BG Zollicoffer was shot dead by Col Speed Fry.  By later standards, it was a minor engagement but at the time, it was the largest Union victory of the war and was strategically important because it broke the Confederate defensive line in eastern Kentucky.

What’s next?  The January 11, Confederate defeat at Lucas Bend on the Mississippi River , allowed U.S. Grant to move up the rivers toward the Confederates at Forts Henry and Donaldson.

On February 6, 1862, Grant “defeats” the Confederate at Fort Henry in Western, Kentucky—although he didn’t as much defeat the Confederates as they surrendered.

On February 16, 1862, Grant soundly defeated the Confederates at Fort Donelson resulting in the surrender of nearly 12,000 Confederate soldiers.  That’s pretty much it for the Confederates in western Kentucky.  The Confederates would briefly consolidate in Bowling Green, Kentucky and then withdraw to Nashville, Tennessee, then to Shiloh, Tennessee, Vicksburg, Mississippi, and so on.

There would of course be a relatively brief Confederate invasion of Kentucky in October resulting in the Confederate defeat at Perryville…

“I know that I know nothing” and the Death of Socrates

Bust of Socrates (Roman?)

Although no one knows the exact date, February 15, 399 B.C.E., is recognized by many as the date when a jury of 500 Athenian citizens over the age of 30, by a vote of 280 to 220, convicted 70 year-old philosopher Socrates (469 B.C.E. – 399 B.C.E.) of the crime of not believing in the Gods recognized by the State, and that Socrates’ teachings had corrupted Athenian youth. Of course Plato, a student of Socrates, witnessed both Socrates' trial as well as his death and wrote that during his defense Socrates related how the Oracle of Delphi had asked him if anyone was wiser than he (Socrates), and how Socrates related:

“…neither of us appears to know anything great and good; but he fancies he knows something, although he knows nothing; whereas I, as I do not know anything, so I do not fancy I do. In this trifling particular, then, I appear to be wiser than he, because I do not that I know what I do not know.” (See Plato’s Apology, p. 19).

Engraving of Socrates on trial

Of course this passage is famously viewed as Socrates' philosophical statement that, “I know that I know nothing;” which appears to mean that the wise man knows that one cannot know anything with absolute certainty, but can feel secure about knowing certain things.

In writing of the trial, Plato also related how Socrates discussed his sentence and rhetorically asked why he could not simply live a quiet life and in response, that “Life without investigation is not worth living” or more popularly how, “An unexamined life is not worth living” (Apology, pp. 42-43).

Socrates suggested that, “If, therefore, I must award a sentence according to my just deserts, I award this, maintenance in the Prytaneum” (that is, food and wages paid to him by the state for the rest of his days). As we know, that didn’t go over so well and by a vote of 360 to 140, Socrates was sentenced to death by drinking hemlock.  Having been told his sentence and in his final statement to the jury, Socrates said:

“For my own part I bear no grudge at all against those who condemned me and accused me, although it was not with this kind intention that they did so, but because they thought that they were hurting me; and that is culpable of them.

However, I ask them to grant me one favor. When my sons grow up, gentlemen, if you think that they are putting money or anything else before goodness, take your revenge by plaguing them as I plagued you; and if they fancy themselves for no reason, you must scold them just as I scolded you, for neglecting the important things and thinking that they are good for something when they are good for nothing. If you do this, I shall have had justice at your hands, both I myself and my children.

Now it is time that we were going, I to die and you to live, but which of us has the happier prospect is unknown to anyone but God”

See: Plato's Apology, Crito, and Phaedo

In Phaedo, Plato wrote of Socrates's death and how: 

“Crito made a sign to the servant, who was standing by; and he went out, and having been absent for some time, returned with the jailer carrying the cup of poison. Socrates said: ‘You, my good friend, who are experienced in these matters, shall give me directions how I am to proceed.’

The man answered: ‘You have only to walk about until your legs are heavy, and then to lie down, and the poison will act.’

At the same time he handed the cup to Socrates, who in the easiest and gentlest manner, without the least fear or change of color or feature, looking at the man with all his eyes, Echecrates, as his manner was, took the cup and said: ‘What do you say about making a libation out of this cup to any god?’

‘May I, or not?’ The man answered: ‘We only prepare, Socrates, just so much as we deem enough.’

‘I understand,’ he said: ‘but I may and must ask the gods to prosper my journey from this to the other world—even so—and so be it according to my prayer.’

Socrates drinks Hemlock (from 1907 Edwardian engraving)

Then raising the cup to his lips, quite readily and cheerfully he drank off the poison. And hitherto most of us had been able to control our sorrow; but now when we saw him drinking, and saw too that he had finished the draught, we could no longer forbear, and in spite of myself my own tears were flowing fast; so that I covered my face and wept, not for him, but at the thought of my own calamity in having to part from such a friend.  Nor was I the first; for Crito, when he found himself unable to restrain his tears, had got up, and I followed; and at that moment, Apollodorus, who had been weeping all the time, broke out in a loud and passionate cry which made cowards of us all.  Socrates alone retained his calmness:  

Jacques-Louis David, The Death of Socrates, 1787

‘What is this strange outcry?’ he said.  ‘I sent away the women mainly in order that they might not misbehave in this way, for I have been told that a man should die in peace. Be quiet then, and have patience.’

When we heard his words we were ashamed, and refrained our tears; and he walked about until, as he said, his legs began to fail, and then he lay on his back, according to the directions, and the man who gave him the poison now and then looked at his feet and legs; and after a while he pressed his foot hard, and asked him if he could feel; and he said, ‘No;’ and then his leg, and so upwards and upwards, and showed us that he was cold and stiff. And he felt them himself, and said: ‘When the poison reaches the heart, that will be the end.’

He was beginning to grow cold about the groin, when he uncovered his face, for he had covered himself up, and said—they were his last words—he said:

‘Crito, I owe a cock to Asclepius; will you remember to pay the debt?’

‘The debt shall be paid,’ said Crito; ‘is there anything else?’

There was no answer to this question; but in a minute or two a movement was heard, and the attendants uncovered him; his eyes were set, and Crito closed his eyes and mouth.

Giambettino Cignaroli’s The Death of Socrates (c. 1759?)

Such was the end, Echecrates, of our friend; concerning whom I may truly say, that of all the men of his time whom I have known, he was the wisest and justest and best.”

(See: Plato’s Phaedo, pp. 173-174).

It is interesting to note that when Socrates said that he owed a debt (a cock) to Asclepius and that Asclepius was the Greek god of medicine and healing.  Socrates last words would then seem to imply that death is the cure to life.

See: Plato's Apology, Crito, and Phaedo

Is Galileo flipping off the world, or just the Church that condemned him?

Today’s the 1564 birthday of Galileo Galilei (February 15, 1564 – January 8, 1642).  Happy Birthday Starry Messenger!



Galileo's middle finger on display in Florence.



No need to recite the father of modern science’s accomplishments in science, physics, math, astronomy, etc.  But check it out, because he had been condemned by the Catholic Church for his theory that the Earth revolved around the Sun—and although Galileo recanted when faced with Papal excommunication for heresy (folklore has it that Galileo muttered under his breath, “And yet it moves”), when he died, Galileo was buried in a small room within the Basilica of Santa Croce in Florence, Italy.  Clearly not fitting one of the giants of western thought, in 1737 Galileo’s body was dug up and reburied within the Basilica proper to a place more fitting someone of his stature.  When Galileo’s body was exhumed, his three fingers incuding the middle finger, thumb and a tooth were removed from his body.  Here’s a picture of Galileo’s middle finger.  

Is Galileo flipping off the world—or maybe just the Church that condemned him?

Not everyone had reason to look upon the Feast of St. Valentine with affection.

Not everyone had reason to look upon the Feast of St. Valentine with affection.

On February 14, 1556, Thomas Cranmer (July 2, 1489 – March 21, 1556) was removed as the Archbishop of Canterbury. Cranmer, who was the Boleyn family chaplain (think Anne Boleyn) rose to prominence having authored a treatise on the dissolubility of Henry VIII’s marriage from Catherine of Aragon (Censurael Determinations) and ultimately declared that the King’s marriage to Catherine was null and void.

Raised Catholic, Cranmer came to reject the presence of Jesus Christ in the bread and wine of the Eucharist, repudiated Papal Supremacy, prohibitions against clergy marrying, embraced Luther’s Protestant theology, authored much of the Book of Common Prayer, the first English liturgy for the Church of England as well as The 39 Articles that form the basic summary of belief of the Church of England. Of course Henry VIII died in 1547 and his successor, Edward VI died in 1553 at the age of 16 (probably from tuberculosis). While Cranmer had lobbied for the Protestant Lady Jane Grey to succeed Edward VI, Mary I, a Catholic, was declared Queen.

As might be expected, Queen Mary moved to restore Catholicism. Cranmer would write that “... all the doctrine and religion, by our said sovereign lord king Edward VI is more pure and according to God's word, than any that hath been used in England these thousand years.”

Not an astute thing to say and on today’s date in 1556, the Protestant, Cranmer was removed from office, imprisoned and charged with sedition and treason. He was found guilty and of course, sentenced to death—burning at the stake. Cranmer had been imprisoned the previous year where his witnessed the October 16, 1555 burning at the stake of Bishops Hugh Latimer and Nicholas Ridley. In an overt attempt to avoid that horrible execution, Thomas Cranmer recanted his earlier writings and teachings. He would however, be burned alive at the stake on March 21, 1556.

More about that later but it’s interesting to note that on the date of his execution, Cranmer was brought to St. Mary’s Church in Oxford where he was to publically recant his teachings. Realizing that his recanting was futile and would not save his life, Cranmer famously said:

"And now I come to the great thing that troubleth my conscience more than any other thing that ever I said or did in my life: and that is, the setting abroad of writings contrary to the truth. Which here now I renounce and refuse, as things written with my hand contrary to the truth which I thought in my heart, and writ for fear of death, and to save my life, if it might be: and that is, all such bills, which I have written or signed with mine own hand, since my degradation; wherein I have written many things untrue. And forasmuch as my hand offended in writing contrary to my heart, therefore my hand shall first be punished. For if I may come to the fire, it shall be first burned. And as for the Pope, I refuse him, as Christ's enemy and antichrist, with all his false doctrine."

Cranmer was taken outside disrobed, and chained to the stake. Witnesses reported that true to his word, Thomas Cranmer thrust his right hand into the flame declaring “This hand hath offended.” and kept it in the flame until it was charred (some say to the stump). Cranmer’s then declared “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit... I see the heavens open and Jesus standing at the right hand of God!” and his body was soon engulfed in flames.

There are of course discrepancies in the description of Cranmer’s execution. One account says:

“Fire being now put to him, he stretched out his right hand, and thrust it into the flame, and held it there a good space, before the fire came to any other part of his body; where his hand was seen of every man sensibly burning, crying with a loud voice, 'This hand hath offended.' As soon as the fire got up, he was very soon dead, never stirring or crying all the while.”

Foxes Book of Martyrs notes:

“Then was an iron chain tied about Cranmer and fire set unto him. When the wood was kindled and the fire began to burn near him, he stretched forth his right hand, which had signed his recantation, into the flames, and there held it so the people might see it burnt to a coal before his body was touched. In short, he was so patient and constant in the midst of his tortures, that he seemed to move no more than the stake to which he was bound; his eyes were lifted up to heaven, and often he said, so long as his voice would suffer him, 'this unworthy right hand!' and often using the words of Stephen, 'Lord Jesus, receive my spirit,' till the fury of the flames putting him to silence, he gave up the ghost."

Sooo…getting back to the original point, Valentine’s Day was not so happy for Thomas Cranmer…

John Foxe's The Acts and Monuments Online