Cosmo de’ Medici II

FOURTH GRAND-DUKE OF TUSCANY.

FOURTH GRAND DUKE OF TUSCANY.

THERE is certainly something very noble and large-minded in the intention of those who have endeavoured to protect from envy the noble achievements of distinguished men, and to rescue their names, worthy of immortality, from oblivion and decay. This desire has given us the lineaments of famous men, sculptured in marble, or fashioned in bronze, as a memorial of them to future ages; to the same feeling we owe the erection of statues, both ordinary and equestrian; hence, as the poet¹ says, has originated expenditure, mounting to the stars, upon columns and pyramids; with this desire, lastly, cities have been built, and distinguished by the names of those men, whom the gratitude of posterity thought worthy of being handed down to all ages. For the state of the human mind is such, that unless it be continually stirred by the counterparts² of matters, obtruding themselves upon it from without, all recollection of the matters easily passes away from it.

There is certainly something noble and generous in the aims of those who have sought to honor distinguished men. They have tried to shield these men’s great achievements from envy and save their names from being forgotten and lost. These names deserve to live forever. This desire has given us portraits of famous men, carved in marble or cast in bronze, to commemorate them for future generations. The same feeling has led to statues, both standing figures and figures on horseback. It has also inspired spending on columns and pyramids that reaches the stars, as the poet¹ says. Finally, this desire has led people to build cities and name them after these men. Grateful later generations considered these men worthy of being remembered for all time. For the human mind easily loses all memory of things unless constantly prompted by representations² of them from outside itself.

But others, having regard for more stable and more lasting monuments, secured the eternity of the fame of great men by placing it under the protection, not of marble or bronze, but of the Muses’ guardianship and the imperishable monuments of literature. But why do I mention these things, as if human wit, content with these regions, did not dare to advance further; whereas, since she well understood that all human monuments do perish at last by violence, by weather, or by age, she took a wider view, and invented more imperishable signs, over which destroying Time and envious Age could claim no rights; so, betaking herself to the sky, she inscribed on the well-known orbs of the brightest stars—those everlasting orbs—the names of those who, for eminent and god-like deeds, were accounted worthy to enjoy an eternity in company with the stars. Wherefore the fame of Jupiter, Mars, Mercury, Hercules, and the rest of the heroes by whose names the stars are called, will not fade until the extinction of the splendour of the constellations themselves.

But others sought more stable and lasting monuments to preserve the fame of great men forever. They entrusted that fame not to marble or bronze, but to the Muses and the imperishable monuments of literature. But why do I mention these things, as if human ingenuity were content with such achievements and dared go no further? Human ingenuity understood well that all human monuments eventually perish through violence, weather, or age. So she looked further and devised more enduring signs, beyond the reach of destructive Time and envious Age. Turning to the sky, she inscribed names on the familiar, everlasting orbs of the brightest stars. These were the names of those whose outstanding, godlike deeds earned them a place forever among the stars. Thus the fame of Jupiter, Mars, Mercury, Hercules, and the other heroes whose names the stars bear will not fade. Their fame will endure until the constellations themselves lose their splendor.

But this invention of human shrewdness, so particularly noble and admirable, has gone out of date ages ago, inasmuch as primeval heroes are in possession of those bright abodes, and keep them by a sort of right; into whose company the affection of Augustus in vain attempted to introduce Julius Cæsar; for when he wished that the name of the Julian constellation should be given to a star, which appeared in his time, one of those which the Greeks and the Latins alike name, from their hair-like tails, comets, it vanished in a short time and mocked his too eager hope. But we are able to read the heavens for your highness, most Serene Prince, far more truly and more happily, for scarcely have the immortal graces of your mind begun to shine on earth, when bright stars present themselves in the heavens, like tongues to tell and celebrate your most surpassing virtues to all time. Behold therefore, four stars reserved for your famous name, and those not belonging to the common and less conspicuous multitude of fixed stars, but in the bright ranks of the planets—four stars which, moving differently from each other, round the planet Jupiter, the most glorious of all the planets, as if they were his own children, accomplish the courses of their orbits with marvellous velocity, while all the while with one accord they complete all together mighty revolutions every ten years round the centre of the universe, that is, round the Sun.

But this noble and admirable invention of human ingenuity became outdated ages ago. For the heroes of ancient times already occupy those bright heavenly homes and hold them by a kind of right. Augustus, out of affection, tried in vain to bring Julius Cæsar into their company. He wanted to name a star that appeared in his time the Julian constellation. The star was one of those that Greeks and Latins alike call comets because of their hair-like tails. But the comet soon vanished, mocking his overly eager hopes. But we can read the heavens for your highness, most Serene Prince, far more truly and happily. The immortal gifts of your mind have scarcely begun to shine on earth. Already, bright stars appear in the heavens, like tongues proclaiming and celebrating your supreme virtues for all time. Behold, then, four stars reserved for your famous name. These stars do not belong to the ordinary, less conspicuous multitude of fixed stars, but to the planets’ bright ranks. Each of the four moves differently around Jupiter, the most glorious of all the planets, as if Jupiter’s own children. They complete their orbits with marvelous speed. Meanwhile, all four move together in harmony, completing vast revolutions every ten years around the universe’s center, the Sun.

But the Maker of the Stars himself seemed to direct me by clear reasons to assign these new planets to the famous name of your highness in preference to all others. For just as these stars, like children worthy of their sire, never leave the side of Jupiter by any appreciable distance, so who does not know that clemency, kindness of heart, gentleness of manners, splendour of royal blood, nobleness in public functions, wide extent of influence and power over others, all of which have fixed their common abode and seat in your highness,—who, I say, does not know that all these qualities, according to the providence of God, from whom all good things do come, emanate from the benign star of Jupiter? Jupiter, Jupiter, I maintain, at the instant of the birth of your highness having at length emerged from the turbid mists of the horizon, and being in possession of the middle quarter of the heavens, and illuminating the eastern angle, from his own royal house, from that exalted throne, looked out upon your most happy birth, and poured forth into a most pure atmosphere all the brightness of his majesty, in order that your tender body and your mind—though that was already adorned by God with still more splendid graces—might imbibe with your first breath the whole of that influence and power. But why should I use only plausible arguments when I can almost absolutely demonstrate my conclusion? It was the will of Almighty God that I should be judged by your most serene parents not unworthy to be employed in teaching your highness mathematics, which duty I discharged, during the four years just passed, at that time of the year when it is customary to take a relaxation from severer studies. Wherefore, since it evidently fell to my lot by God’s will, to serve your highness, and so to receive the rays of your surpassing clemency and beneficence in a position near your person, what wonder is it if you have so warmed my heart that it thinks about scarcely anything else day and night, but how I, who am indeed your subject not only by inclination, but also by my very birth and lineage, may be known to be most anxious for your glory, and most grateful to you? And so, inasmuch as under your patronage, most serene Cosmo, I have discovered these stars, which were unknown to all astronomers before me, I have, with very good right, determined to designate them with the most august name of your family. And as I was the first to investigate them, who can rightly blame me if I give them a name, and call them the Medicean Stars, hoping that as much consideration may accrue to these stars from this title, as other stars have brought to other heroes? For not to speak of your most serene ancestors, to whose everlasting glory the monuments of all history bear witness, your virtue alone, most mighty sire, can confer on those stars an immortal name; for who can doubt that you will not only maintain and preserve the expectations, high though they be, about yourself, which you have aroused by the very happy beginning of your government, but that you will also far surpass them, so that when you have conquered others like yourself, you may still vie with yourself, and become day by day greater than yourself and your greatness?

But the Maker of the Stars himself seemed to give me clear reasons for choosing your highness’s famous name above all others for these new planets. For these stars, like children worthy of their father, never move any great distance from Jupiter. In the same way, certain qualities have all made their home in your highness. These are mercy, kindness of heart, gentle manners, the splendor of royal blood, noble public service, and far-reaching influence and power over others. Who does not know that all these qualities flow from the kindly star of Jupiter? They do so through the providence of God, from whom all good things come. Jupiter, Jupiter, I insist, had finally risen above the murky mists of the horizon at the moment of your highness’s birth. He occupied the middle region of the heavens and lit up the eastern angle. From his own royal house, from that lofty throne, he looked upon your most fortunate birth. He poured all the brightness of his majesty into the purest air. His purpose was that your tender body and mind should absorb his full influence and power with your first breath. Yet God had already adorned your mind with still more splendid gifts. But why should I offer only plausible arguments when I can prove my conclusion almost beyond doubt? Almighty God willed that your most serene parents should consider me worthy of teaching your highness mathematics. I carried out that duty over the past four years, during the season usually set aside for a break from harder studies. So it was clearly God’s will that I should serve your highness. In serving close to you, I received the rays of your extraordinary mercy and generosity. Is it any wonder, then, that you have so warmed my heart? Day and night, I think of scarcely anything else but how to show my deepest devotion to your glory and gratitude to you. For I am your subject not only by choice, but also by birth and ancestry. And so, most serene Cosmo, I discovered these stars under your patronage. They were unknown to all astronomers before me. I have therefore decided, with every right, to give them the most august name of your family. Since I was the first to study them, who can rightly blame me for naming them the Medicean Stars? I hope this title may bring these stars as much honor as other stars have brought other heroes. I need not speak of your most serene ancestors, whose lasting glory is recorded in the monuments of all history. Your virtue alone, most mighty lord, can give these stars an immortal name. Your very fortunate start as ruler has raised high expectations of you. Who can doubt that you will not only meet and sustain those expectations, but far exceed them? Then, after surpassing others like yourself, you may still compete with yourself, growing each day beyond yourself and your own greatness.

Accept, then, most clement Prince, this addition to the glory of your family, reserved by the stars for you; and may you enjoy for many years those good blessings, which are sent to you not so much from the stars as from God, the Maker and Governor of the stars.

Accept, then, most merciful Prince, this addition to your family's glory, which the stars have reserved for you. May you enjoy these blessings for many years. They come not so much from the stars as from God, who made and governs the stars.

Your Highness’s most devoted servant,

Your Highness’s most devoted servant,

Galileo Galilei.

Galileo Galilei.

Padua, March 12, 1610.

Padua, March 12, 1610.