Great Astronomers: Brinkley
Great Astronomers in Modern English
by Sir Robert S. Ball, 1895 (paraphrased by Leslie Noelani Laurio)
To view the table of contents for the rest of this book, click here.
John Mortimer Brinkley, 1763-1835
The history of the Dunsink Observatory at Trinity College in Dublin, Ireland.
The story of the Dunsink Observatory began with Dr. Richard Baldwin, who was Provost [senior academic administrator] of Trinity College for forty-one years until his death in 1758. He had absolute control over the college, and his memory is still alive there because, when he died, he bequeathed his entire estate to the College. Even to this day, students benefit from scholarships as a result of his donation, and those who attended the College can remember his marble memorial [sculpted in 1784 by Christopher Hewetson] in the Examination Hall depicting his dying figure being attended to by two beautiful angels. [You might be able to view it here or here. You can read more about Baldwin here.]
He was succeeded by Francis Andrews, who had been a Fellow of Trinity College for seventeen years. He was noted for his elegant Latin accent when he taught his classes. He was a skillful lawyer and a member of the Irish House of Commons. He bequeathed 3,000 pounds and an annual income of 250 pounds to Trinity College to build and maintain an observatory, and additional money was provided for his relatives. But after he died in 1774, because of the vague wording of the will, the courts turned his relatives' money over to the next Provost, John Hely-Hutchinson. When his relatives took their case to court, they were given the money that Andrews had endowed for the observatory -- so the observatory couldn't be built. The courts considered that an observatory was merely 'ornamental' anyway. The College authorities protested, a compromise was made, and the dispute ended favorably for all parties.
The Board of Trinity College selected a site for the new Observatory from among many suitable locations in Dublin. They could have used the promontory or hill of Dunsink in Liffey, a high spot in the southern part of Dublin, the breezy heath fields of Foxrock, the scenic obelisk hill at Killiney, or a site near Delgany. But they didn't have the convenience of railroads yet, so they needed a place nearby. Therefore, they chose Dunsink, which is only a few miles from Trinity College -- an easy walk.
The northern part of Phoenix Park [home of Dublin's zoo] comes near the little Tolka River, which winds through beautiful wooded areas such as Abbotstown and Glasnevin. On the bank of the river opposite Phoenix Park, the rolling pastureland slopes over half a mile into a hill. The highest spot is Dunsink, 300 feet above sea level. That's the location they chose for the observatory. From that spot, there's a magnificent view. The sea is visible from the east, and you can see the range of hills and mountains all the way from Killiney to Bray Head, and the Two Rock and Three Rock Mountains with the peak of the Great Sugar Loaf just visible. In front, there's the lovely valley of Glenasmole, Kippure Mountain, and the western edge of Lyons [now Celbridge]. The climate of Dunsink is comfortable for star-gazing. There are clouds just like everywhere else in Ireland, but not much haze, and fog is almost unheard of.
It took months to clear the legal issues, but by December, 1782, a contract was made with Graham Moyers to build a meridian room [for instruments to take astronomical measurements right on the longitude line; there are records of longitude numbers recorded by various Dunsink astronomers here] and a dome where the meridian meets the equatorial [latitude] line, plus living quarters for an astronomer. In January, 1783, before construction began, the Board met to select its first Professor of Astronomy for the new observatory. They chose Henry Ussher of Trinity College, Dublin. This was a wise choice, as displayed by Ussher's care in establishing the observatory. Under his direction, the buildings were done in three years and equipped with instruments -- some of them were his own invention. In February, 1785, the Board granted £200 to Ussher to compensate him for his work.
The observatory wasn't the only scientific institution that started in Ireland at this time. The passion for knowledge also led to the founding of the Royal Irish Academy [a sort of think-tank for leading scholars in science and humanities]. Their first publication of "Transactions Of The Royal Irish Academy" included a memoir from Provost Francis Andrews. Henry Ussher wrote an article called "Account of the Observatory Belonging to Trinity College" which was read publicly in June, 1785 [view pdf online here]. The article lays out details of the extensive design that was planned for the Dunsink Observatory, although only part of those plans were actually completed. There were supposed to be two long corridors running north and south from the dome, but they were never built. There's no official reason given for this, but Ussher made a comment that the College had exceeded its budget for the project, so funding may have been an issue. A drawing of the projected building plans shows a dome for the South equatorial, and that was built, but only much later.
Henry Ussher died in 1790. During his short time at the observatory, he viewed eclipses and did other scientific work. The Board recorded that the new observatory had already enjoyed some fame because of his work, and they proposed that his widow should receive a pension because he died from an illness that he caught on the job during his nightly star-gazing. The Board also paid fifty guineas to publish Henry Ussher's sermons, and twenty guineas to help his widow publish his astronomical papers. They commissioned a bust of Ussher to be sculpted and placed in the observatory, and suggested an essay contest on the subject of "The Death of Ussher." But there's no record that any of these things ever came into being.
There was stiff competition to find a successor. The two candidates were John Brinkley of Cambridge (born in Suffolk, England in 1763), and John Stack [1760-1813] of Trinity College, Dublin, who had written a book on Optics. Most of the Board wanted John Stack, but Provost Hely-Hutchinson and a couple other Board members supported Brinkley. The Provost had the authority to veto a nominee, so John Stack was out of the running, and Brinkley was elected in December, 1790. The newspapers published a criticism about an Englishman being favored over a native Irishman, and there was some controversy over it. Provost Hely-Hutchinson wrote an unsigned letter to the Public Register or Freeman's Journal which was published on December 21. It says that Nevil Maskelyne and other respected astronomers had advised that Brinkley be selected. The editorial also says that Board decisions shouldn't be debated in the newspapers.
The next important event for the Observatory was a Letters Patent [royal decree] ordaining that there should always be a Professor of Astronomy with the title of 'Royal Astronomer of Ireland.' The Letters Patent outlined the duties of this position, how the Royal Astronomer should be selected, regulations about conducting his astronomical work, and choosing an assistant. They required the Provost and Senior Fellows to inspect the observatory every summer -- they did their first official inspection in July, 1792.
Ussher had hoped to equip the observatory with the largest, most powerful telescope in the world. The Board supported this ambitious desire, and hired Jesse Ramsden (1735-1800), who was famous for improving the sextant, constructing a theodolite [instrument for measuring angles] for General Roy for the English Survey, and inventing a way to make graduated astronomical instruments. Jesse Ramsden had built Sir George Schuckburgh the best equatorial [a telescope that can move two ways] that had ever been constructed. He had built mural quadrants [a large circle to measure angles, much like a protractor used for geometry] for the cities of Padua and Verona that were amazingly precise, but he thought he could do better -- so he made a more accurate one that was five feet in diameter for Palermo. When Dr. Ussher approached him about a ten-foot circular quadrant, he was eager and enthusiastic.
But this proved to be more difficult than he had anticipated. So he tried a nine-foot one. That also failed. So he tried eight feet, and that worked. Although it's not as ambitious as he hoped, it's a colossal piece of astronomical workmanship. No other observatory has a circle eight feet in diameter graduated all the way around. [View his Palermo Circle on Wikipedia.]
The observatory had issues with getting equipment in a timely manner. Professor Piazzi Smith remembered receiving delivery of a large telescope on the exact day it had been promised -- but a year later! The great circular quadrant had been ordered from Jesse Ramsden in June, 1785. Considering how large it was, allowing a year, or even three years to create such a difficult item, isn't unreasonable.
But when the Board did their inspection of the observatory in 1792, the instrument still hadn't been delivered -- seven years later! Ramsden assured them that it would be ready in a year, but another seven years went by and it still hadn't been delivered. Then Ramsden's health began to decline. The Board threatened to sue, but it never came to that. Ramsden died the same year [1800].
Unfortunately, the college had paid Ramsden a lot of money for the circular quadrant over the past fifteen years, and they still didn't have their quadrant. The Provost asked Nevil Maskelyne, England's Astronomer Royal at the time, for advice. He answered, 'Mr. Ramsden left some property behind when he died, so surely the college won't lose both their money and the instrument.' In 1802, the college contracted Ramsden's son-in-law and business partner, Mathew Berge, to complete the circle. Four years later, it still wasn't done, but Berge promised it would be delivered that year. Two years later, the college was having trouble contacting Berge. In 1807, Berge promised to deliver the circle in a month, but he never did. It wasn't until 1808 -- twenty-three years after it had been ordered -- that the great circle was finally installed at Dunsink Observatory, where it has remained ever since.
Another example of the frustrations the observatory experienced over equipment: in 1793, they sent two clocks to Mr. Crosthwaite to be repaired. 1n 1804 -- eleven years later! -- they were still asking Mr. Crosthwaite when the clocks would be ready! In 1806, they sent the Bursar [college treasurer] to ask in person. By 1816, one of the clocks was back in the observatory, but the other was still out being fixed! Luckily, astronomers are used to calculating by the thousands of years, so twenty years to repair a clock probably doesn't seem like such a long time in comparison.
When John Brinkley was in charge of the observatory, he spent 18 years waiting for his telescope and 18 years actually using it. During the time he was without a telescope, he focused on mathematical research. It was during the later 18 years that he gained a reputation as an astronomer, although his years doing equations did gain him a reputation as a mathematician. His calculations don't display any novel originality of imagination, but they do show some mathematical elegance. He might be more well known for his mathematical abilities if he hadn't been succeeded by a genius like William Rowan Hamilton.
After the huge circle had finally been installed and he had his instruments, Brinkley was able to begin his astronomy work in earnest. He had no time to lose -- he was already forty-five years old. Knowing that he had access to a uniquely perfect set of instruments made Brinkley set a high goal for himself: he determined to re-measure the constants of aberration [the difference between the light we see, and the object that's so far away, it might have moved by the time we see its light] and mutation, comparing what he observed with his own unaided eyes with what he measured using his precision instruments. He also attempted to solve the mystery that had eluded previous astronomers by figuring out how far away a fixed star was.
Those were some ambitious problems, and he went to work on them wholeheartedly. Although with our more advanced methods of measuring we recognize that his conclusions weren't accurate, they did influence the progress of science because they motivated others to re-think the way exact measurements should be taken.
John Brinkley wasn't just an astronomer; he was also an Anglican clergyman. For some people, having two careers is like trying to sit on two stools at the same time -- neither is done very satisfactorily. But for others, it's more like having two strings in their archery bow. Brinkley didn't spend a lot of time on clerical duties, and he didn't win fame for any religious work. He never tried to combine his church work with his astronomy studies. However, he did do well enough to be appointed as Archdeacon, and then as Bishop at the See of Cloyne in 1826, a position that George Berkeley had held until his death in 1753.
Although as Archdeacon Brinkley was allowed to be the Andrews Professor of Astronomy at the same time, it wasn't allowed for a Bishop to do the same thing. So when Brinkley was made a Bishop, he had to resign as Andrews Professor and move out of the observatory. For the last ten years of his life, John Brinkley was absorbed with his church work and was unable to write articles about astronomy for the scientific society. The French astronomer Francois Arago lamented that Brinkley forsook science for the church, but he admits that Brinkley was so conscientious about focusing on his Bishopric that he wouldn't even allow a telescope to be set up in the Bishop's Palace for fear it might distract him from his sacred duties.
Bishop Brinkley died in September, 1835. He was buried in the chapel of Trinity Chapel, and there's a monument to him at the bottom of the stairs in the college library. But an even better memorial is his book, "Elements of Plane Astronomy." It was republished in many editions while he was alive, and even today [1895], the current edition revised by Dr. Luby, and then revised again in 1871 by John William Stubbs and Francis Brunnow [under the title of "Brinkley's Astronomy"] is still read.
[Another biography of Brinkley is online at MacTutor History of Mathematics.]
[The author of this book, Sir Robert S. Ball, was Astronomer Royal of Ireland from 1874 to 1892 and worked at the Dunsink Observatory.]
by Sir Robert S. Ball, 1895 (paraphrased by Leslie Noelani Laurio)
To view the table of contents for the rest of this book, click here.
John Mortimer Brinkley, 1763-1835
The history of the Dunsink Observatory at Trinity College in Dublin, Ireland.
The story of the Dunsink Observatory began with Dr. Richard Baldwin, who was Provost [senior academic administrator] of Trinity College for forty-one years until his death in 1758. He had absolute control over the college, and his memory is still alive there because, when he died, he bequeathed his entire estate to the College. Even to this day, students benefit from scholarships as a result of his donation, and those who attended the College can remember his marble memorial [sculpted in 1784 by Christopher Hewetson] in the Examination Hall depicting his dying figure being attended to by two beautiful angels. [You might be able to view it here or here. You can read more about Baldwin here.]
He was succeeded by Francis Andrews, who had been a Fellow of Trinity College for seventeen years. He was noted for his elegant Latin accent when he taught his classes. He was a skillful lawyer and a member of the Irish House of Commons. He bequeathed 3,000 pounds and an annual income of 250 pounds to Trinity College to build and maintain an observatory, and additional money was provided for his relatives. But after he died in 1774, because of the vague wording of the will, the courts turned his relatives' money over to the next Provost, John Hely-Hutchinson. When his relatives took their case to court, they were given the money that Andrews had endowed for the observatory -- so the observatory couldn't be built. The courts considered that an observatory was merely 'ornamental' anyway. The College authorities protested, a compromise was made, and the dispute ended favorably for all parties.
The Board of Trinity College selected a site for the new Observatory from among many suitable locations in Dublin. They could have used the promontory or hill of Dunsink in Liffey, a high spot in the southern part of Dublin, the breezy heath fields of Foxrock, the scenic obelisk hill at Killiney, or a site near Delgany. But they didn't have the convenience of railroads yet, so they needed a place nearby. Therefore, they chose Dunsink, which is only a few miles from Trinity College -- an easy walk.
The northern part of Phoenix Park [home of Dublin's zoo] comes near the little Tolka River, which winds through beautiful wooded areas such as Abbotstown and Glasnevin. On the bank of the river opposite Phoenix Park, the rolling pastureland slopes over half a mile into a hill. The highest spot is Dunsink, 300 feet above sea level. That's the location they chose for the observatory. From that spot, there's a magnificent view. The sea is visible from the east, and you can see the range of hills and mountains all the way from Killiney to Bray Head, and the Two Rock and Three Rock Mountains with the peak of the Great Sugar Loaf just visible. In front, there's the lovely valley of Glenasmole, Kippure Mountain, and the western edge of Lyons [now Celbridge]. The climate of Dunsink is comfortable for star-gazing. There are clouds just like everywhere else in Ireland, but not much haze, and fog is almost unheard of.
It took months to clear the legal issues, but by December, 1782, a contract was made with Graham Moyers to build a meridian room [for instruments to take astronomical measurements right on the longitude line; there are records of longitude numbers recorded by various Dunsink astronomers here] and a dome where the meridian meets the equatorial [latitude] line, plus living quarters for an astronomer. In January, 1783, before construction began, the Board met to select its first Professor of Astronomy for the new observatory. They chose Henry Ussher of Trinity College, Dublin. This was a wise choice, as displayed by Ussher's care in establishing the observatory. Under his direction, the buildings were done in three years and equipped with instruments -- some of them were his own invention. In February, 1785, the Board granted £200 to Ussher to compensate him for his work.
The observatory wasn't the only scientific institution that started in Ireland at this time. The passion for knowledge also led to the founding of the Royal Irish Academy [a sort of think-tank for leading scholars in science and humanities]. Their first publication of "Transactions Of The Royal Irish Academy" included a memoir from Provost Francis Andrews. Henry Ussher wrote an article called "Account of the Observatory Belonging to Trinity College" which was read publicly in June, 1785 [view pdf online here]. The article lays out details of the extensive design that was planned for the Dunsink Observatory, although only part of those plans were actually completed. There were supposed to be two long corridors running north and south from the dome, but they were never built. There's no official reason given for this, but Ussher made a comment that the College had exceeded its budget for the project, so funding may have been an issue. A drawing of the projected building plans shows a dome for the South equatorial, and that was built, but only much later.
Henry Ussher died in 1790. During his short time at the observatory, he viewed eclipses and did other scientific work. The Board recorded that the new observatory had already enjoyed some fame because of his work, and they proposed that his widow should receive a pension because he died from an illness that he caught on the job during his nightly star-gazing. The Board also paid fifty guineas to publish Henry Ussher's sermons, and twenty guineas to help his widow publish his astronomical papers. They commissioned a bust of Ussher to be sculpted and placed in the observatory, and suggested an essay contest on the subject of "The Death of Ussher." But there's no record that any of these things ever came into being.
There was stiff competition to find a successor. The two candidates were John Brinkley of Cambridge (born in Suffolk, England in 1763), and John Stack [1760-1813] of Trinity College, Dublin, who had written a book on Optics. Most of the Board wanted John Stack, but Provost Hely-Hutchinson and a couple other Board members supported Brinkley. The Provost had the authority to veto a nominee, so John Stack was out of the running, and Brinkley was elected in December, 1790. The newspapers published a criticism about an Englishman being favored over a native Irishman, and there was some controversy over it. Provost Hely-Hutchinson wrote an unsigned letter to the Public Register or Freeman's Journal which was published on December 21. It says that Nevil Maskelyne and other respected astronomers had advised that Brinkley be selected. The editorial also says that Board decisions shouldn't be debated in the newspapers.
The next important event for the Observatory was a Letters Patent [royal decree] ordaining that there should always be a Professor of Astronomy with the title of 'Royal Astronomer of Ireland.' The Letters Patent outlined the duties of this position, how the Royal Astronomer should be selected, regulations about conducting his astronomical work, and choosing an assistant. They required the Provost and Senior Fellows to inspect the observatory every summer -- they did their first official inspection in July, 1792.
Ussher had hoped to equip the observatory with the largest, most powerful telescope in the world. The Board supported this ambitious desire, and hired Jesse Ramsden (1735-1800), who was famous for improving the sextant, constructing a theodolite [instrument for measuring angles] for General Roy for the English Survey, and inventing a way to make graduated astronomical instruments. Jesse Ramsden had built Sir George Schuckburgh the best equatorial [a telescope that can move two ways] that had ever been constructed. He had built mural quadrants [a large circle to measure angles, much like a protractor used for geometry] for the cities of Padua and Verona that were amazingly precise, but he thought he could do better -- so he made a more accurate one that was five feet in diameter for Palermo. When Dr. Ussher approached him about a ten-foot circular quadrant, he was eager and enthusiastic.
But this proved to be more difficult than he had anticipated. So he tried a nine-foot one. That also failed. So he tried eight feet, and that worked. Although it's not as ambitious as he hoped, it's a colossal piece of astronomical workmanship. No other observatory has a circle eight feet in diameter graduated all the way around. [View his Palermo Circle on Wikipedia.]
The observatory had issues with getting equipment in a timely manner. Professor Piazzi Smith remembered receiving delivery of a large telescope on the exact day it had been promised -- but a year later! The great circular quadrant had been ordered from Jesse Ramsden in June, 1785. Considering how large it was, allowing a year, or even three years to create such a difficult item, isn't unreasonable.
But when the Board did their inspection of the observatory in 1792, the instrument still hadn't been delivered -- seven years later! Ramsden assured them that it would be ready in a year, but another seven years went by and it still hadn't been delivered. Then Ramsden's health began to decline. The Board threatened to sue, but it never came to that. Ramsden died the same year [1800].
Unfortunately, the college had paid Ramsden a lot of money for the circular quadrant over the past fifteen years, and they still didn't have their quadrant. The Provost asked Nevil Maskelyne, England's Astronomer Royal at the time, for advice. He answered, 'Mr. Ramsden left some property behind when he died, so surely the college won't lose both their money and the instrument.' In 1802, the college contracted Ramsden's son-in-law and business partner, Mathew Berge, to complete the circle. Four years later, it still wasn't done, but Berge promised it would be delivered that year. Two years later, the college was having trouble contacting Berge. In 1807, Berge promised to deliver the circle in a month, but he never did. It wasn't until 1808 -- twenty-three years after it had been ordered -- that the great circle was finally installed at Dunsink Observatory, where it has remained ever since.
Another example of the frustrations the observatory experienced over equipment: in 1793, they sent two clocks to Mr. Crosthwaite to be repaired. 1n 1804 -- eleven years later! -- they were still asking Mr. Crosthwaite when the clocks would be ready! In 1806, they sent the Bursar [college treasurer] to ask in person. By 1816, one of the clocks was back in the observatory, but the other was still out being fixed! Luckily, astronomers are used to calculating by the thousands of years, so twenty years to repair a clock probably doesn't seem like such a long time in comparison.
When John Brinkley was in charge of the observatory, he spent 18 years waiting for his telescope and 18 years actually using it. During the time he was without a telescope, he focused on mathematical research. It was during the later 18 years that he gained a reputation as an astronomer, although his years doing equations did gain him a reputation as a mathematician. His calculations don't display any novel originality of imagination, but they do show some mathematical elegance. He might be more well known for his mathematical abilities if he hadn't been succeeded by a genius like William Rowan Hamilton.
After the huge circle had finally been installed and he had his instruments, Brinkley was able to begin his astronomy work in earnest. He had no time to lose -- he was already forty-five years old. Knowing that he had access to a uniquely perfect set of instruments made Brinkley set a high goal for himself: he determined to re-measure the constants of aberration [the difference between the light we see, and the object that's so far away, it might have moved by the time we see its light] and mutation, comparing what he observed with his own unaided eyes with what he measured using his precision instruments. He also attempted to solve the mystery that had eluded previous astronomers by figuring out how far away a fixed star was.
Those were some ambitious problems, and he went to work on them wholeheartedly. Although with our more advanced methods of measuring we recognize that his conclusions weren't accurate, they did influence the progress of science because they motivated others to re-think the way exact measurements should be taken.
John Brinkley wasn't just an astronomer; he was also an Anglican clergyman. For some people, having two careers is like trying to sit on two stools at the same time -- neither is done very satisfactorily. But for others, it's more like having two strings in their archery bow. Brinkley didn't spend a lot of time on clerical duties, and he didn't win fame for any religious work. He never tried to combine his church work with his astronomy studies. However, he did do well enough to be appointed as Archdeacon, and then as Bishop at the See of Cloyne in 1826, a position that George Berkeley had held until his death in 1753.
Although as Archdeacon Brinkley was allowed to be the Andrews Professor of Astronomy at the same time, it wasn't allowed for a Bishop to do the same thing. So when Brinkley was made a Bishop, he had to resign as Andrews Professor and move out of the observatory. For the last ten years of his life, John Brinkley was absorbed with his church work and was unable to write articles about astronomy for the scientific society. The French astronomer Francois Arago lamented that Brinkley forsook science for the church, but he admits that Brinkley was so conscientious about focusing on his Bishopric that he wouldn't even allow a telescope to be set up in the Bishop's Palace for fear it might distract him from his sacred duties.
Bishop Brinkley died in September, 1835. He was buried in the chapel of Trinity Chapel, and there's a monument to him at the bottom of the stairs in the college library. But an even better memorial is his book, "Elements of Plane Astronomy." It was republished in many editions while he was alive, and even today [1895], the current edition revised by Dr. Luby, and then revised again in 1871 by John William Stubbs and Francis Brunnow [under the title of "Brinkley's Astronomy"] is still read.
[Another biography of Brinkley is online at MacTutor History of Mathematics.]
[The author of this book, Sir Robert S. Ball, was Astronomer Royal of Ireland from 1874 to 1892 and worked at the Dunsink Observatory.]
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