_PAPAL FAVOUR._
Galileo goes to Rome to congratulate Urban VIII. on his
Accession.—Favourable Reception.—Scientific discussions
with the Pope.—Urban refuses to Revoke the Decree of 5th
March.—Nicolo Riccardi.—The Microscope.—Galileo not the
Inventor.—Urban’s favours to Galileo on leaving Rome.—Galileo’s
reply to Ingoli.—Sanguine hopes.—Grassi’s hypocrisy.—Spinola’s
harangue against the Copernican System.—Lothario Sarsi’s reply
to “Il Saggiatore.”—Galileo writes his “Dialogues.”
On the accession of Urban VIII. Galileo formed a project of offering his
congratulations to the new Pope at Rome, and of using all his personal
influence on the occasion to obtain toleration for the Copernican system,
now no longer opposed by the weighty influence of Cardinal Bellarmine,
for he had died two years before. But he first consulted his friends at
Rome, whether he would be well received, and especially by his Holiness.
He wrote among other things to Prince Cesi, on 9th October, 1623: “I
have in my head plans of no small importance for the learned world, and
perhaps can never hope for so wonderful a combination of circumstances
to ensure their success, at least so far as I am able to conduce to
it.”[187] Cesi, who well understood Galileo’s mode of speaking, confirmed
him in his intentions in his answer of 21st October, and urged him to
carry out his project speedily. “It is necessary for you to come, and
you will be very welcome to his Holiness,” wrote the Prince.[188] Thomas
Rinuccini, brother of the Archbishop of Fermo, of whom Galileo made
the same inquiries, replied as commissioned by the new Pope’s nephew,
Cardinal Francesco Barberini, that Urban VIII. would always be pleased
to receive him, and told him that he had had a long audience of the Pope
himself three days ago, of which he reported to Galileo:—
“I swear to you that nothing pleased his Holiness so much
as the mention of your name. After I had been speaking of
you for some time, I told him that you, esteemed sir, had an
ardent desire to come and kiss his toe, if his Holiness would
permit it, to which the Pope replied that it would give him
great pleasure, if it were not inconvenient to you, and if the
journey would not be injurious to your health; for great men
like you must spare themselves, that they may live as long as
possible.”[189]
Galileo now resolved to go to Rome as soon as he could, but his uncertain
health and the unprecedentedly bad weather, which had laid whole tracts
of land under water, delayed his departure. His friends at Rome wrote
meanwhile again and again, encouraging him to set out, for the Pope,
Cardinal Barberini, and all his exalted patrons and numerous adherents
were longing for his presence;[190] and Mgr. Ciampoli assured him that
he “would find that his Holiness had a special personal affection for
him.”[191]
At length, on the 1st April, Galileo was able to set out, although the
state of his health was still such that he could only perform the journey
in a litter. He reached Aquasparta on 8th April, spent a fortnight with
Prince Cesi in his fine place there, and discussed the affairs which
lay so near his heart with his learned and influential friend. He did
not arrive in Rome till towards the end of April. The long-expected
guest would have been sure of a distinguished reception, even without
the Grand Duchess Christine’s letter[192] of recommendation to her son,
Cardinal de’ Medici. Every one was aware of the favour which the new Pope
entertained for the great astronomer. His old adherents, therefore,
received him with greater delight than ever; and his enemies, for the
time, only ventured to clench their fists behind his back. His letters
of this period express the great satisfaction which this flattering
reception afforded him.[193] The prospect did not indeed look quite
so favourable for his cause. Within six weeks he had had six long
audiences of Urban VIII., had been most affably received by him, and
had found opportunity to lay before him all his arguments in defence
of the Copernican system;[194] but he would not be convinced, and in
one of these discussions tried to turn the tables, and to convince the
advocate of the modern system of its incorrectness, in which he met with
no success. And not only did Urban, in spite of his esteem for Galileo,
turn a deaf ear to his arguments, but he would not grant his petition for
toleration of the new doctrine; on this point he was quite inexorable.
In vain did Galileo obtain the support of several of the cardinals who
were friendly to him, to gain permission from the supreme ruler of
Christendom to teach the Copernican system _as true_. The Pope said to
Cardinal Hohenzollern, who, at Galileo’s request, warmly took up the
question, and had observed in a conversation on it with Urban, that great
caution was required in dealing with it, “that the Church neither had
condemned nor ever would condemn the doctrine as heretical, but only as
rash.”[195] This language was, as Henri Martin justly observes,[196] more
than wanting in precision; for in the first place the Church had never
condemned it at all, either as “heretical” or “rash,” for the Qualifiers
of the Holy Office never mean the “Church”; and in the second place,
this commission had, in 1616, not condemned this opinion as “rash,” but
“foolish and absurd philosophically, and formally heretical,” and this
without the papal confirmation, so that no condemnation by the Church
could be said to exist.
Galileo, finding that Urban, with all his friendly feeling towards
him personally, would never be persuaded to revoke the decree of 5th
March, 1616, resolved to return home after a stay of six weeks at
Rome. There was little to be gained by remaining longer. As soon as
the attitude which Urban intended to assume towards the prohibited
doctrine became evident, Galileo’s clerical adherents as far as possible
avoided expressing themselves on the subject, and the moderate party
among the Romanists merely advised him to take care that his scientific
speculations did not contradict Holy Scripture.
Father Nicolo Riccardi, who was much attached to Galileo and took a great
interest in his subsequent trial, was very ingenious in maintaining a
safe neutrality between the two systems. This good man, to whom from his
eloquence, or as others said because he was so fat, the King of Spain
had given the nickname of “Il Padre Mostro,” prudently agreed neither
with the Ptolemaic nor the Copernican system, but contented himself with
a view as peculiar as it was convenient. He saw no difficulty in the
stars being moved, as we see them to be moved in the vault of heaven, by
angels, a proceeding which demanded nothing on our part but wonder and
admiration.[197]
Meanwhile Galileo’s stay at Rome had been of essential service to
science, although in quite a different way from that which he intended
on his arrival. In 1622 a certain Jacob Kuppler, from Cologne, came
to Rome with a microscope made by a relative of his, a Dutchman of
the name of Drebbel, in order to lay the new discovery, of which
Drebbel claimed to be the inventor,[198] before the papal government.
Kuppler, however, died before he had an opportunity of exhibiting his
instrument to the court. Soon afterwards many other microscopes were
sent to Rome, where, however, no one knew how to use the complicated
instrument. Galileo not only at once perceived its use, but greatly
improved it.[199] He afterwards sent many of these improved instruments
to his friends, and before long his microscopes were in as great request
as his telescopes.[200] In order to rectify a mistake that has been
often repeated, that Galileo was the inventor of this instrument of
such vast importance to science, we mention here that he never claimed
this merit himself; it was his eulogist, Viviani, who first claimed it
for him, and his thoughtless followers have repeated it. Galileo had
indeed, as he mentions in his “Il Saggiatore,” discovered a method of
using the telescope to magnify objects as early as 1610, but it required
an over-zealous biographer to claim Galileo as the inventor of the
microscope from this. It was, however, he who, in 1624, brought the
microscope to a degree of perfection on which for a long time no advance
was made.
Urban VIII. heaped favours of all sorts on Galileo before his departure.
He promised him a pension for his son,[201] three days afterwards he sent
him a splendid picture, then again two medals—one of silver, the other
of gold, and quite a number of Agnus Dei[202]; poor consolation, it is
true, for the disappointment of the great expectations with which he came
to Rome. However, he did not return to Florence entirely without hope.
Although there could be no longer any expectation of a public revocation
of the famous decree, he was fain to believe that it would not be rigidly
kept to, and thought that, supported by his papal patron, he should be
able ingeniously to circumvent it. He was far from thinking that the
fetters placed by the ecclesiastical power on the free course of the
Copernican doctrine were removed, but he was of opinion that they were
considerably loosened. And ensuing events, as well as all the news which
Galileo received from his friends at Rome, were calculated to confirm the
idea. The Pope, wishing to give a strong official proof of his favour,
had himself addressed a letter to the Grand Duke of Tuscany, in which,
to the no small chagrin of Galileo’s enemies, he had not only done full
justice to his services to science, but had laid special stress on his
religious sentiments. In this letter of 7th June, 1624, Urban first
mentioned Galileo’s great discoveries, “the fame of which will shine on
earth so long as Jupiter and his satellites shine in heaven.” And after
declaring that he felt a true fatherly affection for so great a man, his
Holiness continued:—
“We have observed in him not only the literary distinction,
but also the love of religion and all the good qualities
worthy of the papal favour. When he came to congratulate us on
our accession, we embraced him affectionately, and listened
with pleasure to his learned demonstrations which add fresh
renown to Florentine eloquence. We desire that he should not
return to his native country without having received by our
generosity manifold proofs of our papal favour.... And that you
may fully understand to what extent he is dear to us, we wish
to give this brilliant testimony to his virtues and piety. We
are anxious to assure you that we shall thank you for all the
kindness that you can show him, by imitating or even surpassing
our fatherly generosity.”[203]
With his hopes raised still higher by these unusually gracious words of
his papal patron, Galileo ventured, soon after his return from Rome, to
reply to a refutation of the Copernican system, which in 1616 had been
addressed to him as its most distinguished advocate in the then favourite
form of a public letter, by a certain Ingoli, then a lawyer at Ravenna,
and afterwards secretary of the Propaganda at Rome. Ingoli, though an
adherent of the old system, was at the same time a sincere admirer of
Galileo, so that his arguments against the theory of the double motion
of the earth were characterised by great objectivity. After the events
of 1616, Galileo had wisely refrained from answering it; in 1618,
however, it had been done by another corypheus of science, Kepler, in his
“Extracts from the Astronomy of Copernicus,”[204] in which he valiantly
combated Ingoli’s objections. But the latter did not consider himself
beaten, and replied in a letter addressed to a chamberlain of Paul V.
Now, after the lapse of eight years, Galileo thought that, protected by
the favour of Urban VIII., he might venture on a reply to Ingoli. But he
again took care in writing it not to come into collision with the decree
of 5th March. With the assumed imperious prohibition of February, 1616,
this step of Galileo’s can be no more made to agree than his sending
his treatise on the tides to the Archduke Leopold of Austria, 1618, or
the publication of “Il Saggiatore.” Galileo undertakes, in the reply to
Ingoli, to defend the Copernican doctrine under a double pretext. On the
one hand, he says he wishes to show that, as he had given currency to
the new system of the universe before it was condemned by ecclesiastical
authority, he had not been the defender of an improbable or unreasonable
idea; on the other hand, he wishes to prove to the Protestant Copernicans
in Germany, that in Catholic Italy the views of their great countryman
had not been rejected from ignorance of their great probability, “but
from reverence for Holy Scripture, as well as zeal for religion and
our holy faith.” After this ingenious introduction, and an assurance
that he had no intention whatever of representing the forbidden doctrine
_as true_, he proceeds with equal politeness and vigour to refute all
Ingoli’s objections.[205]
In spite of this diplomatic introduction, however, his friends at Rome,
well aware of the malice of his enemies, and having had but a few months
before to defend “Il Saggiatore,” urgently dissuaded him from having this
rather warm defence of a forbidden doctrine printed.[206] He gave heed to
their warnings, and so this reply was only circulated in numerous copies
among the learned world in Italy.
Meanwhile the reports which Galileo was constantly receiving from his
friends at Rome tended to increase his confidence in the favourable
influence which Urban’s personal liking for him, and his taste for art
and science, were likely to exercise on tolerance of the Copernican
system. Thus his devoted adherent Guiducci, in several letters of 6th,
13th and 24th September, 1624,[207] told him, that through the mediation
of the Jesuit father, Tarquinio Galuzzi, he had had several interviews
with Galileo’s former bitter adversary, Father Grassi, who had said that
Galileo’s theory that the phenomena of the tides were to be attributed to
the double motion of the earth “was very ingenious,” and that when the
truth of these opinions was unanswerably established, the theologians
would bestir themselves to alter the interpretation of those passages of
Scripture which refer to the earth as being stationary! The guileless
Guiducci added confidentially, quite taken with this Jesuit’s amiability,
that he had not noticed any great aversion to the new system in Grassi,
indeed he did not despair of estranging “Lothario Sarsi” from Ptolemy.
Two months later, however, the same correspondent told Galileo that
a violent harangue had been delivered in the Jesuit College at
Rome against the adherents of the new doctrine, by Father Spinola,
and some time afterwards he sent him a copy of it;[208] but as it
attacked all those who did not profess to be followers of an antiquated
Peripateticism, it made but little impression on Galileo, and that little
was entirely effaced when Mgr. Ciampoli wrote to him, on 28th December,
1625, that he had acquainted the Pope with several passages of his reply
to Ingoli, and that he had highly approved them.[209]
Before long Guiducci found out how bitterly he had been deceived in
Grassi, and what a miserable game he had been playing with him as
Galileo’s friend. The memory of the favours by which the Pope had
distinguished the great Tuscan when at Rome had scarcely died away when
Grassi threw aside the mask, and “Lothario Sarsi” exhibited himself in
a new and revised edition, fulminating rage and venom against Galileo
and his system. Notwithstanding the hypocritical moderation exhibited
to Guiducci, he had not forgotten the mortifying defeat which “Il
Saggiatore” had subjected him to, and, though circumstances had prevented
him from defending himself at once, he had by no means given up the
intention of doing so. Two years having elapsed since Galileo’s visit to
Rome, Grassi thought he might venture, under pretext of a reply to “Il
Saggiatore,” to publish a new attack on its author. It was entitled, in
bad Latin: “Ratio ponderum Libræ et Simbellæ, etc. Autore Lothario Sarsi
Sigensano.” It contained many personal accusations against Galileo, and
the work altogether was characterized by a blind hatred, which repeatedly
led the author into very foolish statements. For instance, Grassi tried
incidentally to prove by very ingenious arguments that Galileo’s physics
would lead to the denial of the real presence in the Lord’s Supper![210]
But the enraged Jesuit went still further, and gave his readers pretty
plainly to understand that since Galileo agreed on many questions of
physics with Epicurus, Telesius, and Cardanus, he must also approve their
godlessness, which strange assertion, however, he did not venture to
sustain by any evidence.
To Galileo it seemed an encouraging sign of the times that it was
considered desirable to seek a publisher for these accusations from a
member of the Roman College away from the papal residence. Grassi’s
effusions came out at Paris in 1626, and at Naples in 1627. The
very unfavourable reception of the work at Rome, except among a few
pettifogging enemies of Galileo, also tended to confirm him in his
unfortunately mistaken opinion that Rome, under the pontificate of
Urban VIII., would have little or nothing to object to in the rich
harvest promised by the researches of Copernicus and Kepler, as well
as by his own discoveries in the field of science. He thought he could
reckon on papal tolerance, if only the defence of the new system were so
circumspectly handled as not to clash with the oft-mentioned decree of
the Congregation.
On this assumption he had resolved, immediately after his return from
Rome, to carry out the great work which he had long projected, and
which, from the vast scientific knowledge it displayed, combined with a
brilliant style, was to meet with greater success and favour than had
ever been attained by any scientific work. This was his “Dialogues on the
Two Principal Systems of the World.”
PART II.
_PUBLICATION OF THE “DIALOGUES ON THE TWO PRINCIPAL SYSTEMS OF THE
WORLD,” AND TRIAL AND CONDEMNATION OF GALILEO._
CHAPTER I.
_THE “DIALOGUES” ON THE TWO SYSTEMS._
Origin of the “Dialogues.”—Their Popular Style.—Significance
of the name Simplicius.—Hypothetical treatment of the
Copernican System.—Attitude of Rome towards Science.—Thomas
Campanella.—Urban VIII.’s Duplicity.—Galileo takes his MS.
to Rome.—Riccardi’s Corrections—He gives the _Imprimatur_ on
certain Conditions.—Galileo returns to Florence to complete the
Work.
It is a curious fact that the very work which was destined to be one of
the most powerful levers in obtaining general recognition for the true
order of the universe originated in what we now know to be an erroneous
idea. The famous book, “Dialogues on the Two Principal Systems of the
World, the Ptolemaic and Copernican,”[211] arose out of the treatise on
the tides which Galileo wrote at Rome, in 1616, at the suggestion of
Cardinal Orsini.[212] The important influence of these “Dialogues,” both
on science and the subsequent fate of the author, obliges us to discuss
them more particularly.
The book contains a great deal more than is promised by the title; for
the author included in it, in connection with the discussion of the two
systems, nearly all the results of his researches and discoveries in
science, extending over nearly fifty years. He also endeavoured to write
in a style which should be adapted not for the learned world alone, but
which would be both intelligible and attractive to every educated person;
and in this he attained complete success, for he wished by means of
this book to extend as widely as possible a knowledge of the true order
of nature. The form of the work was most happily chosen. The results
of the researches of a lifetime were not given to the reader in a work
redolent of the pedantry of the professor’s chair, in which scientific
demonstrations drag on with wearisome monotony, but in the lively form
of dialogue, which admitted of digressions and gave the author scope for
displaying his seductive eloquence, his rare skill in dialectics and
biting sarcasm—in short, for his peculiarly brilliant style.
The dialogue is carried on by three interlocutors, two of whom adduce the
scientific reasons for the double motion of the earth, while the third
honestly tries to defend the opinions of the Aristotelian school with
all the scientific means at his disposal, and as these did not suffice,
with the arts of sophistry also. If he has but little success, the fault
lies with the cause he advocates. Galileo gave to the defenders of the
Copernican system the names of his two famous pupils and friends, neither
of them then living, Filipo Salviati, of Florence, and Giovan Francesco
Sagredo, senator of Venice, thereby erecting a better monument to them
than he could have done in marble. Salviati is the special advocate of
the Copernican theory. Sagredo takes the part of an educated layman,
intelligent, impartial, and desirous to learn. The advocate of the
Ptolemaic system was called briefly Simplicius, a pseudonym over which
the learned have often puzzled their heads. Did he give this name of
simpleton satirically to the champion of the ancient system, or was
it merely an allusion to Simplicius, the commentator of Aristotle, as
Galileo stated in his “Avviso al lettore?”
The selection of this name is characteristic of the ambiguous attitude
which the author maintains in his “Dialogues.” The sarcastic vein is
obvious throughout, but is ingeniously concealed behind a mask intended
to inspire confidence. Salviati conducts the arguments for the Copernican
theory with such convincing force and clearness, and annihilates so
completely all the objections of the unfortunate Simplicius, that no
unbiassed reader can fail to perceive the scientific superiority of the
modern theory to the old. And as Galileo conscientiously puts in the
mouth of the Peripatetic philosopher every possible argument in favour of
the Aristotelian cause, as well as the objections to the other side, the
total defeat of its advocate is a victory all the more brilliant for the
immortal Canon of Frauenburg.
The condition that the Copernican doctrine is only to be employed as a
hypothesis is ostensibly fully complied with. If Salviati or Sagredo
demonstrate to Simplicius the untenableness of some Ptolemaic axiom, or
add an important stone to the Copernican structure, Galileo hastens to
interpolate some remark to weaken the impression. It must be confessed,
however, that the agreement of this “hypothesis” with all the phenomena
of nature is as clear as daylight; and when, for instance, it is said
that the final decision in the present controversy rests neither with
mathematics and physics, nor with philosophy and logic, but solely with
a “higher insight,” or when Salviati repeatedly asserts that he does
not in the least wish to maintain the truth of the Copernican doctrine,
but applies the word “possibly” to it, or speaks of it as a “fantasia”
or “vanissima chimera,” the reader cannot fail to perceive that these
prudent reservations, which always occur at critical passages, are made
with the sole purpose of rendering the publication of the work possible.
The preface and conclusion have no logical agreement with the contents of
the “Dialogues,” and owe their origin to the same motive. In the preface
the ecclesiastical prohibition of 1616 to teach that the earth moves, is
actually called a “salutary edict” (_un salutifero editto_)! The reader
learns further, to his no small astonishment, that the purpose of this
comprehensive work is to refute the wholly unfounded opinion which has
gained much credit abroad, that this adverse judgment of Rome was not the
result of mature deliberation, but merely of the hasty impulse of judges
who were not qualified to decide on these questions of natural science.
Galileo asserts that his zeal did not permit him to keep silence in face
of those audacious accusations, and that being in possession of all the
circumstances connected with that prudent decision, he felt constrained
to bear witness to the truth before all the world. In bringing forward
here all his speculations on the Copernican doctrine, he wished to show
that at Rome, where he had taken part in the consultations, they had been
fully aware of all the arguments which could be adduced in favour of the
new doctrine.[213]
On the origin of this singular introduction, a point on which divergent
and often unwarranted opinions prevail, we shall enter in detail in its
right place.
The conclusion of the work, which is divided into four “days,” agrees
no better with the rest of the contents than the preface. Although
the Copernicans everywhere gain the day, Galileo takes care, for very
good reasons, not to draw any conclusions from it on the fourth day.
The discussion ends apparently without coming to any result. Salviati
disclaims any wish to force an opinion on any one which seemed to him
a “chimera” or a “paradox.” Addressing himself to Sagredo, he remarks
that Sagredo had often agreed with the opinions he had expressed, but
he thinks that this was often more from their originality than their
conclusiveness. Having therefore thanked him for his “polite indulgence,”
he apologises to Simplicius for the eagerness of his language, and
assures him that he had no intention of offending him, but rather of
inducing him to communicate his sublime ideas (!), which would certainly
be instructive to himself. In conclusion, they agree to meet again for a
final discussion.[214]
Did Galileo really intend to add a fifth day? Martin thinks it probable,
“for,” he says, “Galileo might at that period still have hoped that the
ecclesiastical authorities would tolerate the new system during his
lifetime, especially should some new discovery, as, for instance that
of a small annual parallax of the fixed stars, afford certain proof
in favour of his system. In that case Galileo would have been at last
allowed to express his opinions without reserve.”[215] We think it very
possible, indeed probable, that Galileo did intend to add a fifth day
at a favourable opportunity, in which he would have given the result of
the previous discussions; but he certainly was not waiting for “some new
discovery.” It was his firm conviction that none was wanted, since his
telescopic observations amply proved the truth of his theory; neither
would the most convincing discovery have enabled him to express his
views without reserve, for they had by no means been condemned by the
clergy from want of proof, but as “foolish and absurd philosophically and
formally heretical.”
We are quite aware that certain writers who have assumed the task of
defending the action of the curia against Galileo, maintain that the
ecclesiastical party objected to the new system because its accordance
with the phenomena of nature had not been sufficiently proved.[216] But
even were this granted, in view of the opposition raised on scientific
grounds and the rooted attachment to old opinions, every unbiassed person
must demur to the assumption that in the attitude of Rome towards the
Copernican question the interests of science had any influence whatever.
It could not be an advantage to science to trammel free discussion. The
subsequent harsh proceedings against Galileo, when seventy years of age,
the hostile and peremptory attitude which Rome maintained towards him
until his death, as well as towards the new system and all discussion
of it, bear ample testimony, in our opinion, that the clergy had the
interests of science very little at heart, and that their sole desire
was to maintain the foundation-stone in its place on which the ingenious
structure of the Christian Catholic philosophy was raised; namely, the
doctrine that mother earth is the centre of the universe.
In December, 1629, Galileo had completed his ill-fated work on the
two systems, except the introduction and a few finishing strokes.
He announced this to his friends in sundry letters,[217] and told
Prince Cesi in two letters of 24th December, 1629, and 13th January,
1630, that he intended coming to Rome to see to the printing of the
“Dialogues.”[218] The prince in his reply expressed entire approval of
the project, and encouraged Galileo to set out for Rome very soon, “where
he would have no further trouble about the proofs than to give such
orders as he pleased.”[219]
Altogether the position of affairs seemed remarkably favourable for the
publication of the “Dialogues.” Galileo’s devoted adherent, Castelli,
had been summoned to Rome in 1624 by Urban VIII., and enjoyed great
consideration with the powerful family of Barberini, to whose youngest
scion, Taddeo, he gave instruction in mathematics. This long-tried friend
informed Galileo in a letter of 6th February,[220] that Father Riccardi,
who meanwhile had been raised to the office of chief censor of the press
(Magister Sacri Palatii) had promised his ready assistance in Galileo’s
affairs. Castelli also expressed his conviction that, as far as Riccardi
was concerned, he would find no difficulty. Another piece of information
in the same letter, however, was not quite so satisfactory; the personage
second in importance at the papal court, Urban’s brother, Cardinal
Antonio Barberini, had, when Castelli told him of the completion of the
“Dialogues,” said nothing particular against the theory itself, so far
as it was treated as a hypothesis, but had made the just remark that the
earth, if it revolved round the sun, must be a star, an idea “which was
too far opposed to theological truth.” Castelli appeased the cardinal
by assuring him that Galileo had weighty arguments against this, and it
is characteristic of the prevailing confusion of ideas on astronomical
subjects, that Barberini thought this possible, and that Castelli wrote
to Galileo that he would not find it hard to steer clear of this rock.
Another instance of the trammels placed by religion on the advancement of
science.
A second letter of Castelli’s to Galileo of 16th March, 1630, contains
far more important and encouraging intelligence. According to this,
Thomas Campanella[221] had told the Pope at an audience, that a short
time before he had tried to convert some German nobles to the Catholic
faith, that he had found them favourably disposed, but when they heard of
the prohibition of the Copernican system, they were so indignant that he
could do nothing more with them. To this Urban replied: “It never was
our intention; and if it had depended upon us, that decree would not have
been passed.”[222] These pregnant words, coolly uttered by Urban, when
repeated to Galileo were well calculated to mislead him into infringing
the decree, in the spirit if not in the letter. They seem, however, to
have been at least as incorrect as the reply reported on the same subject
to Cardinal Hohenzollern in 1624. Urban entirely forgot that he had not
interceded in any way in 1616 for the astronomical system threatened with
condemnation. And his conduct showed that he must have been a party to
it. We need only call to mind how inexorable he had been on the question
in 1624 to Galileo himself, and how sternly he afterwards allowed
proceedings to be taken against him. Urban could only have acted in this
way because he was convinced of the danger of the Copernican system to
the Christian philosophy. And he was far too shrewd not to perceive how
the modern views threatened a religion based upon ancient astronomy.
His remark to Campanella, therefore, was nothing but smooth words, and
this is fully confirmed by subsequent events. But they could not fail
to inspire Galileo with confidence that under Urban VIII. an ingenious
circumvention of the decree would give no offence at the Vatican. Besides
this, Castelli reported in the same letter that Mgr. Ciampoli, who
was also well informed, was firmly convinced that Galileo’s personal
appearance at Rome would immediately remove any difficulty that might
occur about publishing the “Dialogues.”[223] Another letter from Castelli
of 6th April urged him to set out for the papal residence, where, to
quote the words of Ciampoli, “they were longing for him more than for a
lady love.”[224]
Full of hope from these promising reports, on 3rd May Galileo arrived
at Rome with the MS. of his “Dialogues.” And events during his two
months’ stay seemed to realise his expectations. Soon after his arrival
he had a long audience of Urban VIII., and wrote on 18th May in high
spirits to Florence:—“His Holiness has begun to treat my affairs in a
way that permits me to hope for a favourable result.”[225] Riccardi
also met Galileo, as was to be expected from Castelli’s letters, in
the most obliging way. Galileo showed him his work with the express
request that he would examine it closely. The papal censor, however,
could not but perceive, with all his personal regard for Galileo, that
in his “Dialogues” he had by no means always kept, _de facto_, within
the limits of hypothetical treatment of the Copernican system, and in
some parts had far exceeded them. He decided, therefore, both as his
official duty and in the interest of Galileo himself, to have the book
altered to the hypothetical standpoint. Many corrections were to be
made, and both preface and conclusion were to be altered so as to agree
with them. Riccardi intrusted the first task to his official assistant,
Father Rafael Visconti, who seemed well qualified for it in his capacity
of professor of mathematics. He executed it with equal prudence and
ingenuity, improved many passages, and finally approved the work thus
revised.
The middle of June had meanwhile arrived, and Galileo was anxious to
leave Rome on account of the heat. But Riccardi wished to look through
the “Dialogues” once more after they had been revised by Visconti, before
giving them his _imprimatur_. Galileo represented that this second
revision was not customary, and succeeded in inducing Riccardi _to grant
permission for the printing for Rome_.[226]
On the other hand, Galileo undertook to fashion the beginning and end
of the work in accordance with a plan of the supreme authorities of
the censorship. There were also still a few passages to be personally
discussed with the author; and as he was unable to stay longer at Rome
without danger to his health, which was already beginning to suffer,
it was agreed that he should return in the autumn, and meanwhile[227]
he would prepare the index and the dedication to the Grand Duke, and
revise the preface and conclusion. The main condition, however, under
which Riccardi gave the book his _imprimatur_, was that after its final
completion it should be submitted to him; and in order to avoid loss of
time, he engaged to look it through sheet by sheet, and to send each at
once to press after inspection. As was usual in the case of members of
the Accadémia dei Lincei, the work was to be published in the name of
this society, and the president, Prince Cesi, was to see it through the
press.
So at the end of June[228] Galileo returned to Florence with his MS. and
the ecclesiastical _imprimatur_, which was granted _bona fide_ for Rome
without reserve. There were indeed sundry conditions attached to it, to
be arranged privately; but they seemed to present so little difficulty,
that a few days after he left on 29th June, Niccolini reported to Cioli
that Signor Galileo left last Wednesday, perfectly satisfied, and with
his affairs quite settled.[229]
But events were now at hand which long deferred Galileo’s ardent desire
to see the results of his unwearied researches and labours speedily given
to the world, and which involved complications afterwards taken advantage
of by his enemies to effect the ruin of their great opponent.
CHAPTER II.
_THE IMPRIMATUR FOR THE “DIALOGUES.”_
Death of Prince Cesi.—Dissolution of the Accadémia dei
Lincei.—Galileo advised to print at Florence.—Difficulties and
Delays.—His Impatience.—Authorship of the Introduction.—The
_Imprimatur_ granted for Florence.—Absurd Accusation from the
style of the Type of the Introduction.
Six weeks had scarcely elapsed after Galileo’s return from Rome, when he
received from his friend Francesco Stelluti the startling intelligence of
the death of his influential patron, Prince Cesi, who had been snatched
away on 1st August by an attack of fever, after a few days’ illness.[230]
This was a great blow to Galileo. It was not only that he lost in the
prince an adherent, as influential as he was devoted, but his death just
then was of the greatest moment on account of the “Dialogues.” There
was, perhaps, no one so well qualified to forward their publication as
Cesi, who, as president of the Accadémia dei Lincei, seemed just the man
for it. The Academy, deprived of its strongest support, was gradually
dissolved, after the hand was wanting which knew how to weave its
multitudinous threads into a firm and solid fabric.
Only the third week after the prince’s death, Galileo felt the first
effects of his heavy loss. In a letter of 24th August, Castelli urgently
advised him “for many most weighty reasons which he did not wish just
then to commit to paper, to have the work printed at Florence, and as
soon as possible.”[231] Castelli added that he had inquired of Father
Visconti whether this would present any difficulties, to which he had
replied that there was nothing to prevent, and he (Visconti) desired
above all things that the work should see the light. Galileo was the
more ready to fall in with this proposition because the plague, which
had made fearful ravages in North Italy, had now made its appearance in
Tuscany, and the precautionary measures taken by the neighbouring States
made all intercourse with them, and especially with the States of the
Church, very tedious and often impossible. Galileo therefore at once
took the needful steps for publishing his book at Florence. He applied
to the Inquisitor-General of the city, to the Vicar-General, and to
the political authorities for permission, and it was granted without
hesitation on 11th September, 1630.[232]
Galileo next addressed himself to Riccardi; represented to him the great
obstacles to publishing the work at Rome, and therefore asked permission
to publish it at Florence. This was the beginning of troubles. The chief
of the Roman censorship at first roundly refused, and when Galileo urged
his request again, he informed him through the Tuscan ambassador at the
papal court, Francesco Niccolini, that the work must be sent in for final
revision as agreed upon, without which he should never have consented to
the publication. Castelli also wrote to Galileo on 21st September,[233]
as commissioned by Riccardi, that as his coming himself to Rome, as
originally agreed upon, was rendered impossible by the outbreak of the
plague, he had better send the manuscript to Riccardi, in order that he
and Mgr. Ciampoli might make the final corrections. Castelli said further
that Riccardi was still very favourably disposed to Galileo, and that
when his work had undergone this censorship, he could send it to press
in Florence as well as anywhere else. After this Galileo made inquiries
whether, under present circumstances, a large packet of MSS. could be
sent safely over the border. But he was everywhere met with a negative,
and the remark that mere letters scarcely passed. In vain he applied
to the postmaster, in vain he appealed to the Grand Ducal secretary of
state, Bali Cioli, for help; no means could be devised, under the strict
close of the frontiers, whereby the bulky work could be transmitted to
Rome with any prospect of safety.
Greatly disconcerted, Galileo represented this state of things to
Riccardi, and offered to send, at any rate, the preface and conclusion
of the “Dialogues,” that the ecclesiastical authorities might alter
these important parts of the work as seemed good to them, and said that
he was willing to designate the Copernican views mentioned in the book
as mere chimeras, paralogisms, dreams, and fantasies, which, as is well
known, was afterwards actually done. As to the final revision, Galileo
proposed that Riccardi should entrust it to some one at Florence.
Exceedingly annoyed by all these obstacles to an early publication of
his “Dialogues,” Galileo at the same time asked the Tuscan ambassador,
Niccolini, and his wife, who were well disposed towards him, to try and
induce Riccardi, whom he had often seen at their house, to accept this
proposal. And what friends and colleagues of the chief censor and other
eminent men had failed in, was accomplished by the delicate mediation
of a lady. On 19th October, 1630, Caterina Niccolini wrote to Galileo,
that the Padre Maestro, who was heartily devoted to him, would obligingly
excuse him from sending the whole work; let him send the introduction and
conclusion, but on condition that the whole MS. should be revised before
publication by some competent person at Florence, and by a theologian
empowered by the ecclesiastical authorities, who must belong to the
Benedictine order. Father Riccardi proposed Father Clement for the task.
The ambassador’s wife added, however, commissioned by the Master of the
Palace, that if this choice were not agreeable to Galileo, he might
himself propose a suitable person, who would be empowered to act.[234]
And, in fact, Father Clement was not to Galileo’s taste, and he proposed
Father Hyacinthe Stephani, counsellor to the Holy Inquisition at
Florence, who was approved by Riccardi. This ecclesiastic revised the
work very thoroughly, and—so at least Galileo reports[235]—was moved
to tears at many passages by the humility and reverent obedience which
the author had displayed. Having made some insignificant corrections,
suggested by extra caution, he gave the “Dialogues” his approval, and
declared that the famous author should be begged to publish them rather
than have obstacles placed in his way.
Riccardi, notwithstanding his friendship for Galileo, seems to have been
of a different opinion. The preface and conclusion had been sent, but
he had allowed weeks and months to pass without letting Galileo hear
anything of them, to say nothing of sending them back. Castelli once
wrote to Galileo that he had met Riccardi, and that he had told him that
these portions were now quite in order, and that he would send them to
Galileo immediately; but months again went by without his fulfilling his
promise.
Galileo was in despair, and on 7th March, 1631, addressed a long letter
to Bali Cioli, in which he first related the course of the negotiations
respecting the “Dialogues”[236] in detail, and then asked for the
powerful intervention of his Highness the Grand Duke, at Rome, to bring
the business to a conclusion, so that he (Galileo) might enjoy while he
lived these fruits of the labours of over fifty years. Little did Galileo
foresee what dire results these “fruits” were to bring. On 8th March
his request was granted, and he was informed that Niccolini, at Rome,
would be commissioned in the name of the Grand Duke to hasten as much
as possible the termination of the negotiations with the Master of the
Palace.[237]
Galileo was all the more pleased with the success of this attempt,
because meanwhile, weary of the long delays, he had begun to have his
“Dialogues” printed. This is confirmed by a letter from him of 20th March
to his learned friend, Cesare Marsili, in which he says that six sheets
of his work, which would consist of fifty or more, were finished.[238] We
may here remark that this proceeding of Galileo’s has been the subject of
severe and unjustifiable blame on the part of some authors actuated by
party spirit. It seems the less called for, since Galileo made no secret
of the printing having been begun, and he was not reproached for it at
the subsequent trial before the Inquisition. He quite supposed that after
Father Stephani had inspected and sanctioned the work, all the conditions
were fulfilled. He therefore considered Riccardi’s consent to the
publication in Florence as certain. It never occurred to him that after
all this he would raise new difficulties.
A report of Niccolini’s of 19th April to Cioli[239] confirmed him in this
supposition, and rejoiced his heart, as there seemed to be an immediate
prospect of an end to these tiresome negotiations. Niccolini wrote that
he and his wife had a little while before had a long conversation with
Father Riccardi about Galileo’s affairs, which had resulted in his
promising to grant permission for the publication, but with the addition
of a declaration, for his own protection, which he was to forward to
Niccolini in a few days. On the 28th Niccolini received it, but instead
of its containing the promised _imprimatur_, it required new clauses
and imposed fresh conditions on the publication. The chief censor
indeed acknowledged, at the beginning of this letter, that he had given
the _imprimatur_ to the work, but stated that it was only with the
reservation that the author should make some alterations as agreed upon,
and send his book to Rome to be published, where with the help of Mgr.
Ciampoli all difficulties would have been overcome. “Father Stephani,”
continues Riccardi, “has no doubt subjected the book to a conscientious
revision; but as he was not acquainted with the Pope’s views, he had no
power to give any approval which would enable me to sanction the printing
without incurring the danger both to him and myself that unpleasantnesses
might arise, if things were still found contrary to the proscriptions.”
Riccardi then asserts that he had no greater desire than to serve the
Grand Duke, but he considers that it must be done so as to prevent any
danger to his Highness’s reputation. And this would not be the case if
he gave his _imprimatur_, as it was not his province to give it for
Florence,[240] while it would be secured by his assuring himself that
everything was in accordance with the commands of his Holiness. “When I
have inspected the beginning and end of the work,” he continued, “I shall
easily discover what I want to know, and will then give a certificate
that I have approved the whole work.”
This sentence is, to say the least, very obscure. Riccardi had had these
two portions of the work in his possession for months, and could long
before have discovered from them what he wanted to know. Or had he not
condescended to look at them? This seems scarcely credible, and is in
direct opposition to what he said to Castelli months before. But a desire
to spin the matter out is evident enough from this obscure sentence as
well as the rest of the letter. The Master of the Palace then proposed,
if it were still impossible to forward the work, to send the ordinances
of his Holiness to the Inquisitor at Florence, in order that he, after
assuring himself that they had been complied with, might give the
_imprimatur_. When Niccolini expressed his suspicions that these delays
had been caused by some intrigues of Galileo’s enemies, Riccardi assured
him that no one but friends of the famous astronomer had spoken to him on
the subject, and that there really had been no cabal of any sort.[241]
When Galileo received the news of this letter, which, contrary to all his
expectations, once more removed all hope of an end of these transactions
into the far future, he could not repress his ill humour. This is plain
enough from a letter to Cioli of 3rd May. He begins with the tart remark:
“I have read what the Father Master of the Palace has written about the
publication of the ‘Dialogues,’ and perceive, to my great vexation, that
after keeping me for nearly a year without coming to any conclusion, he
means to pursue the same course with his Holiness, namely, to delay and
spin out everything with empty words, which it is not easy to put up
with.” He then bitterly complains that this letter of Riccardi’s, instead
of the promised _imprimatur_, contains nothing but fresh delays on the
pretext of conditions with which he had complied several months before,
and in such a way as to prove to his Holiness and all who were willing to
be convinced that he had done so. “And since I perceive,” he continues
bitterly, “that my affairs are afloat on a vast and boundless ocean,
while the publication of my book is of the utmost importance to me, as
I wish to see the fruits of my labours secured, I have been considering
various ways by which it might be accomplished; but the authorization
of his Holiness is indispensable for all.” Galileo then says that in
order to come to some result it might be of the highest importance some
day, and that as soon as possible, to be summoned to appear before his
Highness, with the Inquisitor and Father Stephani. He would like to
show them the work with all the corrections from the hands of Fathers
Riccardi, Visconti, and Stephani, in order that, in the first place,
they might see how trivial the alterations were, and in the second,
how submissively and reverently he had designated all the evidence and
arguments which appeared to confirm an opinion not approved by the
authorities, as dreams, chimeras, and nullities. He concludes by saying:
“Those present will then perceive how true and just my doctrines are, and
that I have never entertained other views or opinions than those held by
the most venerable and holy fathers of the Church.”[242]
The Grand Duke, Ferdinand II., however, with all his good will towards
his chief mathematician, was by no means inclined to interfere personally
in the matter. He was desirous to use all the influence he possessed to
bring about a decision at Rome, but it no more occurred to him now to
exercise his rights as sovereign ruler, than it did afterwards when he
gave up the infirm philosopher, at nearly seventy years of age, to the
Roman tribunal. Galileo’s suggestion, therefore, that the Grand Duke
should, to some extent, take the initiative was by no means acceptable,
and was not followed. The summons to the Inquisitor and Father Stephani
to appear with Galileo before the Grand Duke never came; Niccolini,
however, made fresh efforts to bring about a solution of the question at
Rome. He went to the Master of the Palace and strongly represented to him
that through the dedication the Grand Duke himself was greatly interested
in the publication of this work, at the head of which his exalted name
was placed.[243] Galileo finally succeeded, on 24th May, in inducing
Riccardi to address a letter to Fra Clemente Egidio, the Inquisitor
at Florence, in which he left it entirely to him, after examining the
work, to grant permission for the publication or not. The Master of the
Palace again expressly mentioned in this letter that he had given the
authorization to print, but with the reservation that the necessary
alterations should be made, and that after further revision it should
go to press in Rome, which conditions, however, had not been able to be
fulfilled owing to the plague. The most interesting parts of the letter
for us are the hints which Riccardi gives the Inquisitor, in the course
of it, as to the Pope’s views on the subject, which are to guide him
in sanctioning the work. Title as well as contents are only to relate
to the mathematical aspects of the Copernican system, and so that “the
absolute truth of this view is never conceded, but made to appear as mere
hypothesis, and without reference to Scripture.”[244] “It must also be
explained,” continued Riccardi, “that this work is only written to show
that all the arguments which can be adduced in favour of this view were
well known; that therefore the sentence of 1616 was not to be attributed
to ignorance at Rome, and the beginning and end of the book must agree
with this statement, _which portions, properly arranged, I will send from
here_. By observance of these precautions the work will meet with no
obstacles at Rome, and your reverence will be able to gratify the author,
as well as to serve his Highness, who has shown so warm an interest in
the matter.”[245] The Inquisitor replied on 31st May that he would act in
accordance with the received instructions. He says further that he had
given the MS. to Stephani, as a very eminent man and counsellor of the
Holy Office, to be revised again, and this time in accordance with the
papal instructions; also that Galileo consented most willingly to all the
corrections.[246]
But it would almost appear as if Riccardi had again repented of the
steps he had taken for the final settlement of the business, for weeks
and months passed before Fra Clemente Egidio received the preface and
conclusion. Not till Niccolini, at Galileo’s request, had repeatedly
urged him to send them, could he be induced to do so, after a further
delay of two months, and then, as the ambassador graphically describes
the situation, not “till formally pulled by the hair.”[247] In the letter
of 19th July, 1631, which accompanied them, Riccardi empowered the author
to alter the style of the revised introduction as he pleased, and to
ornament it rhetorically, but so that the sense should remain the same.
As to the conclusion, he made the vague remark that it must be based upon
the same argument as the beginning.[248]
This seems to be the place to enter into the oft discussed question of
the real authorship of this remarkable introduction. Some, who rely upon
the letter of Riccardi’s above quoted, attribute it to him; others even
maintain that it owes its origin to Urban VIII. himself; while, on the
other hand, some are of opinion that Galileo had the chief share in it,
though assuredly only because he considered that it would secure his
object—permission to publish the “Dialogues.” All these opinions contain
some truth, contradictory as they seem; the truth lies between them.
After careful examination of the documents relating to the subject, the
historical facts appear to be as follows:—
When Galileo was at Rome in the early part of the summer of 1630, in
order to submit his “Dialogues” to the Roman censorship, an introduction
was sketched for him, which he was to complete at Florence, and on his
intended return to Rome in the autumn to lay it and the whole manuscript
before the Master of the Palace for final revision.[249] From the good
understanding which then existed between Riccardi, Mgr. Ciampoli, and
Galileo, and from the contents of the introduction, we may conclude
with certainty that the sketch was made with Galileo’s concurrence, or
even that the main idea of it was his own. For on close examination we
find that the idea on which the whole introduction turns—namely, that it
was by no means ignorance of the scientific arguments in favour of the
Copernican system which led to the verdict of 1616—is precisely the same
as that stated by Galileo in his reply to Ingoli in 1624.[250] As we are
aware, since the plague prevented Galileo from returning to Florence
or sending the whole MS., he sent the introduction and conclusion to
the chief censor, who kept them for months, and did not return them to
the Inquisitor at Florence till 19th July. From Riccardi’s letter we
learn two facts: firstly, that he had only concerned himself with the
introduction, leaving the conclusion to the author with the vague remark
we have quoted; and secondly, that Galileo’s preface must have undergone
considerable alterations by the chief censor, as he gave him leave to
alter the style but not the sense. There can be no more doubt that the
Pope had some hand in the final composition of the preface than that it
was not penned by himself. Riccardi appeals in both his _ex officio_
letters to the Inquisitor of 24th May and 19th July, to the “views” and
commands of his Holiness; and when the great storm afterwards burst,
the Master of the Palace loudly asserted that in Galileo’s affairs he
had always and in everything acted in concert with the papal secretary,
Mgr. Ciampoli, and the latter appealed decidedly to special commands of
Urban’s.[251] Riccardi and Ciampoli indeed paid for this indiscretion
with the loss of their posts, but Cantor has aptly remarked on the
subject that, “evidence of the falsity of a statement was never yet
afforded by the fact of the witnesses being compelled to silence or
suffering punishment.”[252]
With the arrival at last of the preface and conclusion, all the obstacles
which had threatened the continuation of the printing of the “Dialogues”
were removed. Stephani, who was charged by the Inquisitor at Florence to
undertake the final censorship, was not the man to place difficulties
in the way of the appearance of the book. He took great care, however,
that the Pope’s commands as to the treatment of the Copernican doctrines
should, as far as the letter went, be strictly obeyed. The “Dialogues,”
from beginning to end, were opposed to the spirit both of the decree of
5th March, 1616, and the papal ordinances, and there was great _naiveté_
in the idea that the fine-spun preface and the various little diplomatic
arts which Galileo employed in the course of his work could disguise its
real meaning from the learned world. But that was not Stephani’s affair;
for the MS. as a whole had been sanctioned by Father Visconti and had
received the _imprimatur_ for Rome from the authorities of the censorship.
The delay about the preface, which, according to Riccardi’s orders, was
to be printed before the book, had two results out of which Galileo’s
enemies afterwards tried to make capital for their intrigues, and which
must therefore find mention here. The printing had been long in hand
and was proceeding when the preface arrived. It was therefore necessary
to print it on a separate sheet, which, according to Riccardi’s orders,
was placed at the beginning of the book. For technical reasons, also,
it was printed in different type from the rest of the work. From these
two insignificant circumstances, Galileo was afterwards reproached with
having by the outward form destroyed the inner connection between the
introduction and the book; and with having thus, to some extent, intended
to indicate that it had nothing to do with the “Dialogues.”[253] This was
at the time when one party was setting every lever in motion to find
cause for accusation against Galileo. The book itself, which appeared
with the double _imprimatur_ of the ecclesiastical censorship of Rome
and Florence, afforded no legal ground for it. We will not, however,
anticipate the historical course of these memorable events, but will
carefully follow them step by step.
CHAPTER III.
_THE “DIALOGUES” AND THE JESUITS._
Publication of the “Dialogues.”—Applause of Galileo’s Friends
and the Learned World.—The hostile Party.—The Jesuits
as Leaders of Learning.—Deprived of their Monopoly by
Galileo.—They become his bitter Foes.—Having the _Imprimatur_
for Rome and Florence, Galileo thought himself doubly
safe.—The Three Dolphins.—Scheiner.—Did “Simplicius” personate
the Pope?—Conclusive Arguments against it.—Effect of the
Accusation.—Urban’s Motives in instituting the Trial.
By the beginning of January, 1632, the printing of the “Dialogues” was
so far advanced, that on the 3rd Galileo had the satisfaction of telling
his friend, Cesare Marsili, at Bologna, that the work would be completed
in ten or twelve days.[254] It did not, however, appear till February.
On the twenty-second of that month Galileo presented his book to the
Grand Duke, to whom it was dedicated, and to the other members of the
house of Medici.[255] On the twenty-third he sent at first thirty-two
copies to Cesare Marsili.[256] He had a large number of copies handsomely
bound for his powerful friends and patrons at Rome, but they could not
be despatched immediately, since, owing to the continued prevalence of
the plague, they would have had to be purified in the quarantine houses,
which might have injured them. It was not till May that two unbound
copies reached the papal residence in a roundabout way.[257] One of
these came into the hands of Cardinal Francesco Barberini, who lent it
to Father Castelli. In a letter to Galileo of 26th September, 1631,[258]
he had vowed that, after the appearance of the “Dialogues,” he would
read no other book but that and the Breviary; and in a letter of 29th
May,[259] he now expressed to the author his admiration of his work,
which surpassed all his expectations. Shortly afterwards, Count Filippo
Magalotti, who was on very friendly terms with Galileo, and from his
relationship to the Barberinis, was an influential personage, imported
eight copies from Florence, and, as charged by the author, presented
one copy each to Cardinal Antonio Barberini, to the Tuscan ambassador
Niccolini, Father Riccardi, Mgr. Serristori, counsellor of the Holy
Office, and the Jesuit Father Leon Santi.[260]
While these few copies were being eagerly devoured by impatient
readers at Rome, and passed rapidly from hand to hand, the book had
been circulating in the rest of Italy in spite of the difficulties of
communication. The applause which this famous work called forth from
all men of independent minds was unexampled, and was only equalled
by the bitterness and consternation it excited among the scientific
conservatives. The learned world of Italy was divided into two hostile
camps: that of Ptolemy on the one side, that of Copernicus-Galileo on
the other. In the one were to be found progress, recognition of truth,
free independent thought and research; in the other blind worship of
authority and rigid adherence to the old school. And the latter party was
far the most numerous; it was also reinforced by those, of whom there
were a considerable number, who opposed the great reformer of science
from interested motives. Besides this, the academic corporations were not
favourable to him, because he so dangerously revolutionised the modern
methods of teaching. The university of his native city seemed especially
adverse to him. It had carried its animosity so far a few years before
as to try to deprive him of the income which he enjoyed as its first
mathematician by the Grand Ducal decree of 12th July, 1620, though,
thanks to the energetic remonstrances of some influential patrons, the
attempt was not successful.[261]
In addition to all this there is another consideration, which played a
much larger part in the sad story of Galileo’s trial than is generally
supposed. The clergy, and especially the Jesuits, had hitherto had
a monopoly of science. Everybody knows how assiduously it had been
cultivated in ancient times in the cells and schools of the convents, and
that the ecclesiastical orders were the guardians and disseminators of
learning, while among both populace and nobles ignorance flourished like
a weed. When by the natural law of progress the nations of Europe emerged
from the simplicity of childhood into the storm and stress period of
youth; when inventions,—especially printing,—and above all the discovery
of America, began to spread knowledge and culture among the masses, it
was once more the servants of Rome who, justly estimating the spirit of
the age, placed themselves, so to speak, in the van of the intellectual
movement, that they might guide its course. The strongest evidence that
the Church was in exclusive possession of the highest mental powers
is afforded by the Reformation; for the first stirrings of doubt, of
critical, philosophical speculation, arose in the bosoms of the Roman
Catholic clergy. All the reformers, from Abelard and Arnold of Brescia,
to Huss and Luther, sprang, without exception, from among them.
Just at the juncture when the split into two creeds threatened to divide
the joints and marrow of the supreme power of the Church, the man
appeared who most effectually contributed to restore it by founding a
new ecclesiastical order, with a very peculiar organisation. This was
Ignatius Loyola. And if we seek for the explanation of the profound
influence gained by this corporation in all parts of the world, and
every grade of society, we shall find it in four factors: the highest
enthusiasm for the common cause; willing obedience to the central
authority—the general for the time being; utter unscrupulousness as
to means; and the supremacy which knowledge always confers. Far from
occupying themselves, like the Protestant clergy, exclusively with
theology, there was no branch of knowledge that was not cultivated by
these champions of the Church; indeed they stood for a century at the
summit of learning.[262] And now, in the most recent epoch of that
stigmatised century, Galileo the layman steps forth upon the arena of
the science of the heavens and the earth, and teaches the astonished
world truths before which the whole edifice of scholastic sophistry must
fall to the ground. The Jesuit monopoly of the education of youth and of
teaching altogether, became day by day more insecure, and the influence
of the society was threatened in proportion. Was it to be wondered at
that the pious fathers strained every nerve in this final conflict for
mastery, and in the attempt to prevent their world-wide mission of
educating the people from being torn from their hands? This explains why
the reformers of science appeared just as dangerous to them as those of
religion; and they resisted the former, as they had done the latter, with
all the resources at their command.
Galileo, as one of the most advanced pioneers of science, was in the
highest degree inconvenient to the Jesuits; members of their order
had also repeatedly measured lances with the great man in scientific
discussion—Fathers Grassi and Scheiner, for instance—with very
unfortunate results, by no means calculated to make the Society of Jesus
more favourable to him. But now that his “Dialogues on the Two Systems of
the World” had appeared, which, as every intelligent man must perceive,
annihilated with its overwhelming mass of evidence the doctrines of the
old school, and raised the modern system upon its ruins, the Jesuits set
every lever in motion, first to suppress this revolutionary book, and
then to compass the ruin of the author.
Riccardi himself remarked to Count Magalotti at that time: “The Jesuits
will persecute Galileo with the utmost bitterness.”[263]
Besides, they found welcome allies in the overwhelming majority of the
rest of the clergy. With them the theological considerations we have
mentioned formed the motive. And the louder the applause with which
the independent scientific world greeted Galileo’s latest remarkable
work, the fiercer burnt the flame of ecclesiastical hate. There can be
no doubt that the full significance of the “Dialogues” had not been
apprehended by any of the censors to whom they had been submitted. This
is obvious from the fact that they seriously thought that the diplomatic
preface, and a few phrases in the work itself, would suffice to make it
appear innocuous. The commotion made by the book in the scientific and
theological world convinced them of their mistake.
Meanwhile, Galileo in Florence gave himself up to unmixed delight at the
brilliant success of his “Dialogues.” His learned friends and followers,
such as Fra Bonaventura Cavalieri, Giovan Batista Baliani, Castelli,
Fra Fulgenzio Micanzio, Alfonzo Antonini, Campanella, and many others,
expressed to him in repeated letters, and often with genuine enthusiasm,
their admiration of his splendid work,[264] not one of them had any
foreboding that it was to bring its grey-headed author before the bar of
the Inquisition; and Galileo himself least of all. He expected violent
opposition from his scientific opponents, and was prepared to engage in
the contest, but he considered himself quite secure from ecclesiastical
persecution. Had not influential personages at Rome, Cesi, Mgr.
Ciampoli, Cesarini, and Castelli, been urging him for years to finish
his work, the tendency of which they well knew?[265] And when it was
at last complete, it was these same friends, as well meaning as they
were influential, who had done their best to forward the publication.
Besides, the book had appeared not only with the _imprimatur_ and under
the protection of the Inquisition at Florence, as prescribed, and with
the permission of the political authorities of the city, but Galileo
could show also the _imprimatur_ of the Pater Magister Sacri Palatii,
which was not at all usual with works not printed at Rome.[266] He
considered this a double security; Jesuitism, on the contrary, contrived
afterwards to forge an indictment out of this unusual circumstance. Not
a word had appeared in print without having been read by the organs of
papal scrutiny and having received the sanction of the Church. Might
not the author well look forward to the publication of his work with
perfect tranquillity, and feel himself secure from any collision with the
ecclesiastical authorities? Undoubtedly, if he had not made the solemn
promise sixteen years before, “_entirely to renounce the opinion that the
sun is the centre of the universe, and is stationary, and that the earth
on the contrary moves, and neither to hold the same, nor in any way to
teach or defend it in speaking or writing_.”
Galileo’s proceedings at this time, as before and after, prove that
he was totally unaware of this assumed prohibition; anyhow, he pays
not the slightest attention to it. He sends copies of his work to the
most eminent persons at Rome; is delighted at its immense success;
arms himself for defence against the indignant Aristotelians, but
never thinks of a conflict with the ecclesiastical authorities, which,
sincere Catholic as he was, would have given him great pain apart
from consequences. Even in June and July there were some ill-disposed
persons, to the great annoyance of Riccardi, zealously trying to
discover something in the book which could be formulated into an
accusation against the author. The title page was adorned with a drawing
of three dolphins, one with the tail of another in its mouth, with
an insignificant motto above it.[267] This illustration was impugned
because it had not been submitted to ecclesiastical approbation, and they
expatiated with more malice than wit upon the meaning of the mysterious
device. It was a great relief to Riccardi’s mind when it was pointed
out by Count Magalotti that the same illustration appeared on almost
all the works which issued from the press of Landini at Florence, where
the “Dialogues” had been printed. This bait, then, had not taken, and
Galileo’s foes, worthy members of the Society of Jesus, had to find some
other mode of ensnaring him. They now brought against him the twofold
reproach, that the preface was printed in different type from the rest
of the book, which was true; and that several weighty arguments which
the Pope had brought against the Copernican system in conversation with
Galileo, though they might perhaps have been adduced in the MS., were
not in the printed book; this was a lie.[268] The truth however at
once came to light, for these “weighty arguments” were reduced to one,
which was brought forward at the conclusion of the “Dialogues.” But
Jesuitism, as we shall soon see, drew very singular conclusions from
the very natural circumstance that it was mentioned by Simplicius,
the defender of Ptolemy. The brethren of Father Grassi and Father
Scheiner,[269]—the latter of whom had been for a few months at Rome, and
was greatly incensed at the “Dialogues,”—well knew how to lay hold of the
Pope by his most vulnerable points, his personal vanity and boundless
ambition, which made him feel every contradiction like an attack on his
authority. They were assiduous in confirming Urban in his opinion that
the Copernican doctrine endangered the dogmas of the Christian Catholic
faith in the highest degree, and now represented that the publication of
the “Dialogues” was an incalculable injury to the Church. Besides this,
they persuaded the Pope that in his latest work Galileo had again, though
this time under concealment, entered into theological interpretations of
Holy Scripture. They thus stigmatised him as a rebel against the papal
decrees, who had only obtained the licence from Riccardi by cunning
devices,—a misrepresentation of the facts which, however, did not fail
of its effect on Urban. This is conclusively proved by the despatches of
Niccolini to Cioli of 5th and 11th September, 1632, of which we shall
have to speak more particularly.[270]
The crowning point of the intrigues of Galileo’s foes was, however,
the cunning assertion that _by Simplicius no other was intended than
Urban VIII. himself_; and they actually made him believe it. One would
scarcely have thought this possible with this shrewd Pope, who was so
well-disposed towards Galileo; but it is beyond all question that it was
so, and it put him in a boundless rage. It is decidedly indicated by
his attitude towards Galileo at the trial, especially at the beginning
of it. At that time it put him in such ill humour to be spoken to about
Galileo, that all who interested themselves for him agreed that it was
better not to confer with Urban himself, but with Cardinal Barberini
or the ministers.[271] The repeated attempts also made by Galileo and
his friends, even years afterwards, to convince Urban that it had never
entered his head to insult him, and that it was a cunning slander, prove
that for a long time the Pope had taken Simplicius for his counterfeit.
As this manifest falsehood is revived by certain writers, even at this
time of day, as having been Galileo’s real intention, it seems necessary
to throw a little more light on it. The telling remarks which Albèri
makes on the subject might well suffice to show the absurdity of the
imputation. He says that in the first place the attachment and devotion
always shown by Galileo towards Urban, to the sincerity of which numerous
letters bear witness, exclude all idea of so perfidious an act; and in
the second, that it was Galileo’s own interest to retain the goodwill
of his powerful patron, and not frivolously to fritter it away.[272]
But we pass from this argument _ad absurdum_ to one _ad concretum_.
Simplicius is said to be Urban VIII. But not appropriately, for he was
no such headstrong Peripatetic as is represented by Simplicius; had he
been so, it was impossible that in 1624 he should have enjoyed having “Il
Saggiatore” read to him at table, that cutting satire on the Aristotelian
wisdom in general, and the wisdom of Father Grassi in particular; and
that in the next year he should have been so much pleased with Galileo’s
reply to Ingoli.
Galileo’s enemies founded their assertion on the circumstance that at the
end of the work Simplicius employs an argument which the Pope himself
had brought forward in repeated conversations in 1624 with Galileo,
and on the weight of which he plumed himself not a little.[273] It
consisted of the reflection, undoubtedly more devout than scientific,
that God is all-powerful, so that all things are possible to Him, and
that therefore the tides could not be adduced as a _necessary_ proof
of the double motion of the earth without limiting His omnipotence.
This pious objection is received by both Salviati and Sagredo with the
utmost reverence. The former calls it heavenly and truly admirable, and
the latter thinks that it forms a fitting conclusion to the discussion,
which opinion is acted upon.[274] The Pope’s argument is thus by no means
made to appear ridiculous, but quite the contrary. As to the main point,
Simplicius says expressly that “he had this argument from a very eminent
and learned personage.” If this means Urban VIII., it is plain that
Simplicius cannot be Urban VIII. Q.E.D.[275]
In writing his “Dialogues,” Galileo found himself in a difficult
position. As he brought forward all the arguments of the disciples of
Ptolemy against the new system, the vain pontiff would have been sorely
offended if he had not introduced his. But who should mention it, if not
Simplicius? Galileo might think that Urban would not perhaps like to see
his argument treated as the original suggestion of Simplicius, who did
not appear in a brilliant light, and devised the expedient of making him
quote it, as that of “a very eminent and learned personage,” whereby he
would imagine that he had steered clear of every obstacle. But there was
no security against calumny. How little idea Galileo could have had of
making Urban ridiculous under the guise of Simplicius appears also from
the fact that in 1636, when seeking full pardon from the Pope, and when
he would be most anxious not to irritate him, he had just completed his
famous work, “Dialogues on the Modern Sciences,” in which Simplicius
again plays the part of defender of the ancient principles; and that he
published it in 1638, just when, in view of the unfavourable answer of
1636, he was begging at least for the favour of being nursed at Florence.
There can be no doubt that this suspicion materially contributed to
injure Galileo’s cause. Pieralisi, indeed, makes an assertion as novel as
it is untenable, that this bold slander was first heard of in 1635, and
therefore not until after the famous trial; and in his book, “Urban VIII.
and Gal. Galilei,”[276] he devotes a chapter of forty-six pages to prove
this latest novelty. But all his arguments are upset by the following
passage by Galileo in a letter to his friend Micanzio on 26th July, 1636:—
“I hear from Rome that his Eminence Cardinal Antonio Barberini
and the French ambassador have seen his Holiness and tried to
convince him that I never had the least idea of perpetrating
so sacrilegious an act as to make game of his Holiness, as my
malicious foes have persuaded him, and which was the primary
cause of all my troubles.”[277]
Pieralisi is acquainted with these words, and seeks to weaken their
indisputable force as evidence in a lengthy disquisition; but an
impartial critic only sees in this the apologist of Urban VIII., who
desires, at all hazards, to shield him from the suspicion of having
been actuated in the matter of Galileo’s trial by personal motives,
which will always be recognised in history as a fact, though it is
also an exaggeration of some historians to maintain that it was the
actual starting-point of the whole process, Urban having wished to
revenge himself for this assumed personal insult.[278] No, it had its
effect, but was not the chief motive. The Jesuits had inspired the Pope
with the opinion that the “Dialogues” were eminently dangerous to the
Church, more dangerous and abhorrent even than the writings of Luther
and Calvin,[279] and he was highly incensed at the representation that
Galileo had shamefully outwitted Father Riccardi, Mgr. Ciampoli, and
even his Holiness himself, in obtaining the licence. Offended majesty,
the determination to guard the interests of the Church and the authority
of the Bible, indignation at Galileo’s assumed cunning, and annoyance
at having been duped by it,—these were the motives which impelled Urban
VIII. to the deed called the institution of the trial of the Inquisition
against Galileo.
CHAPTER IV.
_DISCOVERY OF THE ABSOLUTE PROHIBITION OF 1616._
Symptoms of the Coming Storm.—The Special Commission.—Parade of
Forbearance.—The Grand Duke intercedes for Galileo.—Provisional
Prohibition of the “Dialogues.”—Niccolini’s Interview
with the Pope and unfavourable Reception.—Report of it to
Cioli.—Magalotti’s Letters.—Real Object of the Special
Commission to find a Pretext for the Trial.—Its Discovery in
the Assumed Prohibition of 1616.—Report of the Commission and
Charges against Galileo.
As we have seen, even during the months of June and July a ferment
had already begun in certain circles at Rome about the “Dialogues.”
Complaints and accusations were rife, the Pope was artfully worked
upon—these were the first portents of the heavy storm which was to
break over Galileo’s head. The Master of the Palace went about Rome in
great fear for himself as well as for Galileo, and told his troubles to
Count Magalotti.[280] At the beginning of August, Riccardi begged him
to deliver up the eight copies of the “Dialogues” which Magalotti had
brought to Rome, with the assurance that he would return them in ten days
at the latest. It was not in Magalotti’s power to grant this request, the
books having, as we know, long ago passed into other hands.[281]
A few days later the first thunderclap broke over Galileo. His publisher,
Landini, at Florence received instructions, though for the time they were
only provisional, forbidding the further sale of the “Dialogues.” The
succeeding scenes of the melancholy drama quickly followed. A special
commission was instituted at Rome by order of the Pope to investigate the
whole affair. Urban afterwards repeatedly stated with great emphasis to
Niccolini, that it was out of regard for the Grand Duke, as well as for
Galileo, that the very unusual measure was taken of not referring his
cause directly to the Holy Office, but to a separate congregation.[282]
It is altogether a characteristic trait in all the proceedings of
the Roman curia against Galileo, that there was a parade of great
consideration for and forbearance towards him although strictly within
the limits of their real intentions. Even the favour ostensibly shown
to him of referring his cause to a preliminary commission, composed of
theologians and mathematicians, was not so great in reality as it was
trumpeted to be at the Vatican. It was composed of persons by no means
favourable to him, and all the endeavours of Niccolini and other powerful
friends of Galileo to have influential persons who were friendly to him
put on the commission, such as Fathers Castelli and Campanella, were
frustrated by the Pope. It occasioned a dangerous threat to be held
over the undaunted Campanella, who energetically exerted himself in the
matter.[283]
Meanwhile disquieting rumours had reached Florence, and Galileo
recognised with terror his dangerous position, though not to its full
extent; this perhaps was as yet foreseen by no one. He appealed in full
confidence to his friendly young sovereign for protection, and found
a willing ear. On the 24th August a note on this business was sent to
Niccolini, by order of the Grand Duke. It is clear that Ferdinand’s
efforts to assist Galileo were sincere from the circumstance that,
although the letter was written in Cioli’s name, Galileo was the author
of it, as appears from the original draft in his handwriting in the
Palatina Library at Florence.
The Grand Duke in this letter expresses his surprise that a book which
had been laid before the supreme authorities at Rome by the author
in person, had been carefully read there again and again, as well as
afterwards at Florence, and at the author’s request had been altered as
seemed good to the authorities, and had finally received the _imprimatur_
both there and here, should now after two years be considered suspicious
and be prohibited. The astonishment of his Highness was the greater,
because he knew that neither of the main opinions treated of were
positively confirmed, but only the reasons for and against brought
together; and this was done, as his Highness knew for certain, for the
benefit of the Holy Church itself, in order that on subjects which in
their nature are difficult to understand, those with whom the decision
rests may see, with less expenditure of time and trouble, on which side
the truth lies, and bring it into agreement with Holy Scripture. The
Grand Duke was of opinion that this opposition must be directed rather
against the person of the author than against his book, or this or that
opinion, ancient or modern. In order, however, to convince himself of
the merits or misdemeanours of his servant, his Highness desires that
that which is granted in all disputes and before all tribunals should be
permitted to him,—to defend himself against his accusers. The Grand Duke
therefore urges that the accusations brought against the work, which have
caused it to be prohibited, may be sent here for the author, who stands
firmly on his innocence, to see them. He is so convinced that all this
originates in the calumnies of envious and malicious persecutors, that he
has offered his sovereign to leave the country and renounce his favour
unless he can palpably prove how pious and sincere his sentiments on
these subjects have always been and still are. The letter concludes with
the commission, by the Grand Duke’s orders, to take the necessary steps
towards the fulfilment of his most reasonable request.[284]
On the same day on which this despatch went off, a mandate was issued
from Rome, which not only confirmed the provisional prohibition of the
“Dialogues,” but requested Landini to send all the copies in stock to
Rome. He replied that all the copies had been delivered to the purchasers.
Niccolini on receipt of the Grand Duke’s order hastened to carry it out,
but met with more bitter and obstinate opposition than either he or the
Tuscan court had expected. On 4th September, when the ambassador was
about to execute his mission at the Vatican, the Pope met him bluntly
with the words: “Your Galileo has ventured to meddle with things that he
ought not, and with the most important and dangerous subjects which can
be stirred up in these days.” Niccolini remarked that the philosopher
had not published his work without the approval of the Church, to which
the Pope angrily rejoined that Galileo and Ciampoli had deceived him,
especially Ciampoli, who had dared to tell him that Galileo would be
entirely guided by the papal commands, and that it was all right; he
had not either seen or read the work, and this was all he had known
about it. His Holiness then made bitter complaints against the Master
of the Palace, adding, however, that he had been deceived himself, for
he had been enticed by fair speeches to approve the book, and by more
fair speeches to allow it to be printed at Florence, without at all
complying with the form prescribed by the Inquisitor, and with the name
of the Roman censor of the press, who had nothing whatever to do with
works which did not appear at Rome. Niccolini then ventured to say, that
he knew that a special congregation was appointed to try this affair,
and as it might happen (as was the case) that there might be persons
on it unfavourable to Galileo, he humbly petitioned that Galileo might
have an opportunity of justifying himself. Urban answered curtly: “In
these affairs of the Holy Office, nothing is ever done but to pronounce
judgment, and then summon to recant.” “Does it not then appear to your
Holiness,” answered the ambassador, “that Galileo should be informed
beforehand of the objections to, scruples and criticisms respecting his
book, and of the points to which the Holy Office takes exception?” “The
Holy Office,” replied the Pope, angrily, “as I told you before, does
not proceed in that way, and does not take that course, nor does it
ever give such information beforehand: it is not the custom. _Besides,
Galileo knows well enough what the objections are, if he only chooses
to know, because we have talked to him about it, and he has heard them
all from ourself._” Niccolini now urged that the work was dedicated to
the Grand Duke, and written by one of his most eminent servants; he
hoped, therefore, that Galileo would be treated with indulgence. Urban
replied that he had even prohibited books dedicated to himself, and that
in matters where it was a question of endangering religion, the Grand
Duke also was bound, as a Christian prince, to co-operate in enforcing
penalties. Niccolini had therefore better write plainly to his Highness
that he (the Pope) warned him not to meddle with things which he could
not come out of with honour. The undaunted ambassador now expressed
his conviction that his Holiness would not allow them to go so far as
entirely to prohibit the book, which had received sanction, without at
least hearing Galileo. But Urban replied, _that this was the least that
could happen to him, and he had better take care that he was not summoned
before the Holy Office_. The Pope then assured Niccolini that the
preliminary commission was composed of theologians and men well versed in
science, all grave and pious men, who would weigh every particular, word
for word, for it was a question of the most godless business which could
ever be discussed. He also charged the ambassador to tell his sovereign
that the doctrine was in the highest degree sinful; everything would be
maturely considered; his Highness had better not interfere, and must be
on his guard. In conclusion, the Pope not only imposed the strictest
secrecy on Niccolini as to what he had been told, but desired that the
Grand Duke also should be charged to keep the secret, adding that he
“had acted with great consideration for Galileo, by having impressed
upon him what he knew before, and by not referring his affairs, as he
ought to have done, to the Holy Office, but to a specially-appointed
congregation.” Urban added the bitter remark that his behaviour towards
Galileo had been far better than Galileo’s towards him, for he had
deceived him.
In the narration of the whole of this interesting conversation between
the Pope and the Tuscan ambassador, we have given an almost literal
translation of the Italian original of Niccolini’s report of it to
Cioli, of 5th September, 1632.[285] Urban’s last angry expression caused
Niccolini to remark in his despatch that he found “ill will here too;
and as for the Pope, he could not be more against poor Galileo than
he was.” He then said that he had communicated Cioli’s letter of 24th
August to the Master of the Palace, and that Riccardi thought they would
hardly condemn the “Dialogues” altogether, but only alter some passages
which really were objectionable. He had also offered, as far as he could
do so without incurring censure or transgressing rules, to inform the
ambassador at once of what was going to be done, adding however, that he
must be cautious, for he had already felt the lash in this matter. He
then complained that they had not acted in accordance with his letter
to the Inquisitor, that the introduction was printed in different type
from the rest of the work, and that the conclusion did not agree with the
introduction. Towards the end of the despatch, Niccolini says that “it
will be better to act without any temper in this business, and rather to
negotiate with the ministers and Cardinal Barberini than with the Pope
himself, because he obstinately persists that it is a hopeless case, and
if you dispute it, or threaten anything, or are defiant, his Holiness
lets fall hard words and has no respect for anybody.”
The conclusion of Cioli’s reply of 19th September to this ominous
despatch of Niccolini’s gives us an insight into the attitude which the
Tuscan Government, even at that time, desired to assume towards the papal
chair in this unfortunate business. Cioli writes:—
“His Highness has heard the letters of your excellency of the
4th and 5th, and by this affair of Signor Mariano and that of
Signor Galileo he was placed in so much difficulty that I do
not know how it will be. I know well that his Holiness will
never have to blame the ministers for giving bad advice.”[286]
Two letters from Count Magalotti,[287] who was usually well informed,
arrived almost at the same time as this despatch. Both bear the date
of 4th September; one is to Mario Guiducci, the other to Galileo, who
in a letter of 23rd August, which is lost, had expressed his anxiety
to Magalotti lest his work should be pronounced suspicious, and
the Copernican doctrine condemned as heretical by the authorities.
Magalotti’s news was, on the whole, reassuring. According to the opinions
of persons who are generally present at the sittings of the Congregation
of the Holy Office, he thought he could assure Galileo that it would
never go so far as for the Copernican system to be condemned by the
_supreme authority_.[288] He thought, with Riccardi, that they would
not entirely prohibit the “Dialogues,” but only correct them, so as to
sustain the decree of 5th March, 1616. He also urgently advised, like
Niccolini, that they should arm themselves with the utmost patience, and
rather confer with Cardinal Barberini than with Urban, “for reasons
which it is not necessary to discuss here.”
Neither Galileo himself, nor Magalotti, nor his other friends, ever
thought of any personal danger to him; Niccolini and the Grand Duke might
perhaps have been more sharp-sighted, but they were bound to silence. The
threads, however, of this great intrigue can only be disentangled by the
later historian, who has watched the progress of the whole melancholy
drama. Two facts are perfectly obvious to the attentive observer: the
first, that at Rome, with the Pope at their head, they were determined
to bring Galileo to trial before the Inquisition; and the second, that
they did not yet clearly see how it was to be done with some shadow of
justice. To find this out was the real purpose of the appointment of
the special congregation, which Urban had boasted of as a signal act
of forbearance towards Galileo. All the objections to the book were
subjects rather for accusation against the censors who had sanctioned it
than against the author, who had submitted it to them, altered it, and
again submitted the alterations. The responsibility for the publication
really rested not with the author, but with those who had sanctioned
it. The Pope’s accusation, however, that Galileo had coaxed them to
give the permission by fair speeches, was too indefinite to institute a
trial upon, and neither did the irregular quotation of the _imprimatur_
of the Master of the Palace, nor the typographical difference between
the preface and the rest of the book offer sufficient ground for a
legal prosecution. In this difficult case, therefore, it required all
the Romish craft and legal sophistry at command, to find a pretext for
bringing Galileo to trial before the Inquisition, which should, at any
rate according to Romish principles, justify it in the eyes of the world.
The preliminary commission appointed by Urban VIII. was to perform this
by no means easy task in brilliant style. It was certainly very much
lightened by a discovery in the acts of the trial of Galileo in 1616,
which was evidently a surprise to them—the note of 26th February, 1616.
What vast importance they at once thought fit to assign to this
annotation without signature, we learn from a despatch of Niccolini’s
to Cioli, of 11th September.[289] Niccolini refers in it to a recent
interview with the Master of the Palace. He had again strongly advised
that nothing be done in a hurry, and that time must be gained, for the
Pope was firmly convinced that religion was really imperilled, for the
work did not treat of mathematics, but of Holy Scripture, religion, and
faith, and the orders respecting the printing of the work had not been
complied with, for the opinion of the author was not merely indicated,
but expressed in many places in the most decided and unsuitable manner.
After Riccardi had assured the ambassador that all efforts to get
Campanella and Castelli put on the preliminary commission had failed,
but that he (Riccardi) would do his best to defend Galileo, both from
friendship for him, and to serve his Highness, and because he had given
the permission to print, he confided to Niccolini, under seal of profound
secrecy, as of the highest importance, “_that it had been discovered in
the books of the Holy Office, that sixteen years ago, it having been
heard that Galileo entertained that opinion, and disseminated it in
Florence, he was summoned to Rome, and forbidden by Cardinal Bellarmine,
in the name of the Pope and the Holy Office, to hold that opinion, and
this alone is enough to ruin him entirely_.”[290]
This communication of Riccardi’s contains an obvious mis-statement,
namely, that any document had been found showing that Galileo had been
_summoned_ to Rome in 1616. As we have seen,[291] all the historical
documents show that he was not summoned, but that his visit was
entirely voluntary. This verbal statement of Riccardi’s, unsupported
by any document, is of no value as evidence, compared with the letters
of Galileo of that period, and his depositions afterwards before his
judges, who were accurately informed of all the previous proceedings.
The second part of his communication to Niccolini is also far from
precise. He does indeed say that Galileo, in 1616, had in the name of
the Pope and the Holy Congregation been forbidden (_prohibito_), “il
poter tenere questo opinione,” but according to the father’s account this
prohibition was communicated to him by Cardinal Bellarmine. Riccardi is
evidently not precisely instructed, and does not know that, according to
the notification of 26th February, 1616, Galileo received an absolute
prohibition before notary and witnesses.
We shall see the part this “document” was destined to play in the
proceedings against Galileo.
The preliminary commission had just then, after about a month’s session,
completed its labours, and submitted to the Pope a long memorial on the
Galileo affair. The document begins with a concise statement of the
course of the negotiations about the publication of the “Dialogues,” and
then the three following indictments were brought against the author:—
(1) Galileo has transgressed orders in deviating from the hypothetical
treatment by decidedly maintaining that the earth moves and the sun is
stationary. (2) He has erroneously ascribed the phenomena of the tides
to the stability of the sun and the motion of the earth, which do not
exist; (3) and he has further been deceitfully silent about the command
laid upon him by the Holy Office, in the year 1616, which was as follows:
“To relinquish altogether the said opinion that the sun is the centre
of the world and immovable, and that the earth moves; nor henceforth to
hold, teach, or defend it in any way whatsoever, verbally or in writing,
otherwise proceedings would be taken against him by the Holy Office,
which injunction the said Galileo acquiesced in and promised to obey.”
Then follows the remark: “It must now be considered what proceedings
are to be taken, both against the person of the author and against the
printed book.” Yet the nature of these proceedings is not in any way
discussed in the document, but it now refers more in detail in five
counts to the historical events, from the time when the “Dialogues”
were submitted in Rome in 1630, to the publication in Florence in 1632.
A sixth count considers that the following points in the “Dialogues”
themselves must be laid to the author’s account:—
“1. That without orders and without making any communication
about it, he put the _imprimatur_ of Rome on the title page.
“2. That he had printed the preface in different type, and
rendered it useless by its separation from the rest of the
work; further, that he had put the saving clause at the end in
the mouth of a simpleton, and in a place where it is hard to
find; that it is but coolly received by the other interlocutor,
so that it is only cursorily touched upon, and not fully
discussed.
“3. That he had very often in the work deviated from the
hypothesis, either by absolutely asserting that the earth
moves, and that the sun is stationary, or by representing
the arguments upon which these views rest as convincing and
necessarily true, or by making the contrary appear impossible.
“4. That he had treated the subject as undecided, and as if he
were waiting for, though he does not expect, explanation.
“5. That he contemns authors who are of a contrary opinion, and
those whom Holy Church chiefly employs.
“6. That he perniciously asserts and sets forth that, in the
apprehension of geometrical matters, there is some equality
between the Divine and human mind.
“7. That he had represented it to be an argument for the truth
that Ptolemaics go over to the Copernicans, but not _vice
versa_.
“8. That he had erroneously ascribed the tides in the ocean to
the stability of the sun and the motion of the earth, which do
not exist.”
The special commission, however, by no means draws the conclusion from
all these errors and failings, that the “Dialogues” should be prohibited,
but says: “All these things could be corrected, if it was thought that
the book to which such favour should be shown were of any value.”
Immediately after this follows the seventh point, saying that “the author
had transgressed the mandate of the Holy Office of 1616, ‘that he should
relinquish the said opinion,’ etc.—down to, ‘and promised to obey.’”[292]
Herewith the memorial of the preliminary commission concludes. It draws
no conclusions from the facts adduced, but leaves that to his Holiness
the Pope. The last count confirms Galileo’s chief offence: he is guilty
of having disobeyed a special mandate of the ecclesiastical authorities,
has broken a solemn promise made before a notary and witnesses. Such a
crime, according to inquisitorial usage, demanded severe punishment. The
perfidy of 1616 had signally triumphed.
CHAPTER V.
_THE SUMMONS TO ROME._
Niccolini’s Attempt to avert the Trial.—The Pope’s
Parable.—The Mandate summoning Galileo to Rome.—His Grief
and Consternation.—His Letter to Cardinal Barberini.—Renewed
Order to come to Rome.—Niccolini’s fruitless Efforts
to save him.—Medical Certificate that he was unfit to
Travel.—Castelli’s hopeful View of the Case.—Threat to bring
him to Rome as a Prisoner.—The Grand Duke advises him to
go.—His Powerlessness to protect his Servant.—Galileo’s Mistake
in leaving Venice.—Letter to Elia Diodati.
Only a few days later, on 15th September, the Pope informed the Tuscan
ambassador through one of his secretaries, Pietro Benessi, that he
(Urban) hereby notified to him, out of esteem for his Highness the
Grand Duke, that he could do no less than hand Galileo’s affairs over
to the Inquisition. At the same time the strictest secrecy as to this
information was enjoined both on the Grand Duke and Niccolini, with a
threat that otherwise they would be proceeded against according to the
statutes of the Holy Office.[293]
Niccolini was astounded by this news, and hastened, two days afterwards,
to the Pope, to make a final attempt to avert the danger of a trial
before the Inquisition for Galileo. But his urgent though respectful
solicitations met with no response. Urban indeed said that “Signor
Galileo was still his friend,—but that opinion had been condemned sixteen
years before.” He then expatiated, as he had so often done before, on the
danger of the doctrine, and ended by saying that Galileo’s book was in
the highest degree pernicious. When Niccolini remarked that he thought
the “Dialogues” might be altered to the prescribed form, instead of
being prohibited altogether, the Pope answered affably by telling him a
parable about Cardinal Alciato. A manuscript was submitted to him with
the request that, in order not to spoil the fair copy, he would mark the
places requiring alteration with a little wax. The cardinal returned
it without any marks at all. The author thanked him, and expressed his
satisfaction that he had not found anything to find fault with, as there
was not a single mark; but the cardinal replied that he had not used any
wax, for if he had, he must have gone to a wax chandler’s, and dipped the
whole work into melted wax in order to amend it thoroughly.[294] Thus had
Cardinal Alciato enlightened the unfortunate author in his day, and Urban
enlightened Niccolini by quoting the story, to which he could only reply
with a forced smile, that nevertheless he “hoped his Holiness would allow
them to treat Galileo’s work as indulgently as possible.”
Niccolini’s efforts had been in vain, and measures were laid with almost
breathless haste to deliver Galileo up to the Inquisition. This was
finally effected in the sitting of the Congregation of the Holy Office of
23rd September, 1632, when it was pronounced that he had transgressed the
prohibition of 26th February, 1616, and concealed it when he obtained the
_imprimatur_. In a document of the Vatican Manuscript we have the papal
mandate which followed this sentence. It runs as follows:—
“23rd September, 1632. His Holiness charges the Inquisitor at
Florence to inform Galileo, in the name of the Holy Office,
that he is to appear as soon as possible in the course of the
month of October, at Rome before the Commissary-General of the
Holy Office. He must also obtain a promise from Galileo to
obey this order, which the Inquisitor is to give him in the
presence of a notary and witnesses, but in such a way that
Galileo may know nothing about them, so that if he refuse and
do not promise to obey, they may, if necessary, bear witness to
it.”[295]
On 1st October the Inquisitor carried out this order, which Galileo had
to certify by the following attestation:—
1st October, 1632, at Florence. “I, Galileo Galilei, certify
that on the day indicated the order has been delivered to me by
the honourable Father Inquisitor of this city, by command of
the Holy Congregation of the Holy Office at Rome, to go to Rome
in the course of the present month, October, and to present
myself before the Father Commissary of the Holy Office, who
will inform me what I have to do. I will willingly obey the
order in the course of this month October. And in testimony
thereto I have written these presents.”
“I, Galileo Galilei wrote _manu propria_.”[296]
This mandate to present himself before the Inquisition quite overwhelmed
Galileo, as is evident from his correspondence of that period. He was
totally unprepared for it. Scarcely recovered from a severe complaint
in the eyes, which had lasted several months and had prevented him from
using them, otherwise suffering in health, and at an advanced age, he was
now to go to Rome in the midst of the plague, which had broken out again
with increased virulence, and entailed strict quarantine regulations, in
order to give account of himself before the dread tribunal. No wonder
that it dismayed him, and in spite of his promise “willingly to obey
the order in the course of this month, October,” we find him making
every effort to get out of it. On 6th October he wrote in the greatest
excitement to Cioli, who was just then with the Grand Duke at Siena, that
he was in the greatest consternation at this summons to appear before the
Inquisition at Rome, and as he was well aware of the importance of the
matter, he would come to Siena to lay his schemes and plans before his
Highness, for he had more than one in his head, and to consult him about
the steps to be taken.[297]
This journey, however, was not undertaken, as the court soon returned to
Florence.
Galileo’s deep depression is most evident from a long letter of 13th
October addressed to a cardinal of the Barberini family,[298] which was
to reach him through Niccolini. Galileo remarks first that he and his
friends had foreseen that his “Dialogues” would find opponents, but he
had never imagined that the envious malice of some persons would go so
far as to persuade the authorities that they were not worthy to see the
light. He goes on to say that the summons before the Inquisition at Rome
had caused him the deepest grief, for he feared that such a proceeding,
usual only in the case of serious delinquents, would turn the fruits of
all his studies and labours during many years, which had lent no little
repute to his name with the learned all over the world, into aspersions
on his fair fame. “This vexes me so much,” continues Galileo, “that
it makes me curse the time devoted to these studies in which I strove
and hoped to deviate somewhat from the beaten track generally pursued
by learned men. I not only repent having given the world a portion of
my writings, but feel inclined to suppress those still in hand, and
to give them to the flames, and thus satisfy the longing desire of my
enemies to whom my ideas are so inconvenient.” After this desperate cry
from his oppressed soul, he expresses his conviction that, burdened
with seventy years and many bodily sufferings, increased by constant
sleeplessness, he shall not reach the end of this tedious journey—made
more arduous by unusual difficulties—alive. Impelled by the instinct
of self-preservation common to all men, he ventures to ask the good
offices of the cardinal. He begs him to represent his pitiable condition
to the wise fathers in Rome, not to release him from giving account of
himself, which he is most anxious to do, as he is sure that it will only
tend to his advantage, but only that it may be made easier for him to
obey. There are two ways of doing this. One is for him to write a minute
and conscientious vindication of all that he has said, written, or done
since the day when the conflict began on Copernicus’s book and his new
system. He is certain that his sincerity and his pure, zealous, and
devout attachment to the holy Church and its supreme head, would be so
obvious from this statement, that every one, if he were free from passion
and party malice, must confess that he had behaved so piously and like
a good Catholic, that not even any of the fathers of the Church to whom
the epithet _holy_ is applied, could have shown more piety. He asserts
and will indisputably prove, by all the works he has written on this
subject, that he has only entered into the controversy out of zeal for
the holy Church, with the intention of imparting to her servants that
knowledge which one or other of them might wish to possess, and which
he had acquired by long study, as it treated of subjects difficult to
understand and different from the learning generally cultivated. He will
also show how many opinions contained in the writings of the fathers of
the Church had been an encouragement to him, and how he was “finally
confirmed in his intention by hearing a short but holy and admirable
address, which came unexpectedly, like an echo of the Holy Spirit, from
the lips of a personage eminent in learning and revered for his sanctity
of life.” But for the present he will not give this admirable saying, nor
the speaker’s name, as it does not seem prudent or suitable to involve
any one in the present affair which concerns him personally alone.[299]
Having in a touching manner begged that what he should write may be read,
and declared that should his vindication not give satisfaction on all
points he will reply in detail to objections, he proceeds to the second
means of averting the journey to Rome.
He only wishes that his adversaries would be as ready to commit to paper
what they have perhaps verbally and _ad aures_ said against him, as he
was to defend himself in writing. If they will not accept his written
vindication, and still insist upon a verbal one, there was an Inquisitor,
Nuncius, archbishop, and other high officials of the Church at Florence,
whose summons he was quite ready to obey. He says:—“It appears to me
that things of much greater importance are decided by this tribunal.
And it is not likely that under the keen and watchful eyes of those who
examined my book with full liberty to omit, to add, and to alter as
seemed good to them, errors so weighty could escape that the authorities
of this city should be incompetent to correct or punish them.” This
passage again clearly indicates that Galileo knew nothing whatever of the
prohibition of 1616; that he had no idea of having broken his word to the
ecclesiastical authorities. His only thought is of a revision of his work
as the result of a conviction that it contained errors.[300]
The letter to the cardinal concludes with the following assurance:—“If
neither my great age, nor my many bodily infirmities, nor the deep
concern I feel, nor the wearisomeness of a journey under the present
most unfavourable circumstances, are considered sufficient reasons, by
this high and sacred tribunal, for granting a dispensation, or at least
a delay, I will undertake the journey, esteeming obedience more than
life.”[301]
Niccolini could not deliver this letter to the cardinal immediately, as
he was just then absent from Rome. He received however, at the same time,
an urgent petition from another quarter. Michael Angelo the younger wrote
to this dignitary, with whom he was on friendly terms, and entreated
him, out of consideration for the philosopher’s age and infirmities, to
use his powerful influence to get his affairs settled at Florence.[302]
But there was a long delay before Galileo’s letter was delivered to the
cardinal. The ambassador wished first to consult Castelli, whom the
Grand Duke had appointed as his counsel in Galileo’s affairs, whether it
was to be delivered. Niccolini had doubts about these explanations, and
expressed them both in a letter to Galileo of 23rd October,[303] and in
a despatch to Cioli of the 24th.[304] In the former Niccolini says that
he thinks Galileo’s letter is more calculated to incense them against
him than to pacify them, and the more he asserted that he could defend
his work the more it would be thought that it ought to be condemned. He
thinks that a delay will be granted to the accused of his journey to
Rome, but that he will not be released from it on any consideration.
Niccolini gave him the following friendly hint as to the attitude he
should maintain: “It appears desirable not to enter into any defence
of things which the Congregation do not approve, but to submit and to
recant what the cardinals may desire; for to speak as a Christian, one
must not maintain anything, but what they, as the highest tribunal, that
cannot err, please.”[305] By such conduct the ambassador hopes for an
easier solution of the question; not, however, without its coming to an
actual trial, and Galileo may even be somewhat restricted in his personal
liberty. He has great doubts about the passage referring to an “admirable
address, which came unexpectedly like an echo of the Holy Spirit from the
lips of a personage eminent in learning and revered for his sanctity of
life,” as he thinks that if the letter is handed to the cardinal, he will
hand it to the Congregation, and the cardinals may request to be informed
who this personage is. At all events he would like first to consult
Castelli, who was not just then at Rome.
The result of the consultation was, however, to deliver the letter to
Barberini. Niccolini reported to Galileo on 6th November,[306] that he
had received it in a very friendly spirit, and was altogether very kindly
disposed towards him. The ambassador does not doubt that a delay will at
any rate be granted, that Galileo may make the journey to Rome with less
inconvenience.[307] We learn from a document in Gherardi’s archives, that
Galileo’s petitions were discussed at a sitting of the Congregation of
the Holy Office held on 11th November, in presence of the Pope, but that
he would not grant them, and decreed that Galileo must obey, and ordered
that the Inquisitor at Florence should be written to that he might compel
Galileo to come to Rome.[308]
Niccolini, meanwhile, was unwearied in trying to get Galileo’s proposals
accepted. He went to Cardinal Ginetti, who was a member of the
Congregation and in high favour with the Pope, and to Mgr. Boccabella,
assessor of the Holy Office, and represented to both Galileo’s great
age, his failing health, and the peril to his life of a journey through
quarantine and plague. But as both prelates, on whom as members of the
Holy Office strict secrecy was imposed, “only heard what he had to say,
and answered nothing,” Niccolini went to the Pope himself, to make one
more attempt. Having as he thought put the imperious pontiff into the
best of humours, by assuring him that the unfortunate _savant_ was
ready to render prompt obedience to every command, he laid all the
circumstances before him, and used all his eloquence to awaken pity for
the infirm old man. But in vain. Niccolini asked at last whether his
Holiness had not seen Galileo’s letter to Cardinal Barberini; and he
said he had, but in spite of all that the journey to Rome could not be
dispensed with. “Your Holiness incurs the danger,” replied Niccolini,
“considering Galileo’s great age, of his being tried neither in Rome nor
Florence; for I assure your Holiness that he may die on the way under
all these difficulties combined with so much anxiety.” “He can come very
slowly (_pian piano_) in a litter, with every comfort, but he really must
be tried here in person. May God forgive him for having been so deluded
as to involve himself in these difficulties, from which we had relieved
him when we were cardinal.” This was the Pope’s stern reply to the
ambassador’s urgent representations. And when he remarked that it was the
sanction given to the book here which had occasioned all this, because
from the signature, and the orders given to the Inquisitor at Florence,
they felt quite secure, and had proceeded without scruple, Urban broke
out into violent complaints about the conduct of Father Riccardi and
Mgr. Ciampoli, and repeated that it was a question of a most pernicious
doctrine.[309]
Niccolini, seeing that his efforts were in vain retired, but only to
hasten to Cardinal Antonio Barberini, and to entreat him to take up the
cause of this persecuted man. But the cardinal made the pertinent excuse
that he could not act against the Pope’s will, but he would procure all
possible relaxation of the strict quarantine regulations for Galileo.
Niccolini could not even obtain any definite promise of delay; and,
much discomfited and with profound sorrow, he communicated the results
of his sincere and unwearied endeavours in a letter to Galileo of 13th
November, 1632, and a despatch to Cioli of the same date.[310]
A few days after the receipt of this bad news, on 19th November, Galileo
was summoned before the Inquisitor at Florence for the second time, in
accordance with the papal mandate of 11th November. He sent the following
report of it on 20th November, to Rome:—
“I have again summoned Galileo Galilei, who said that he was
perfectly willing to go to Rome, and only hesitated on account
of his advanced age, his evident ill health, the circumstance
that he was under medical treatment, and many other things. I
then charged him to comply with the order to go to Rome, and in
presence of a notary and two witnesses gave him a respite of
one month. He again appeared quite willing, but I do not know
whether he will go. I told him what I had received.”[311]
On 9th December the papal orders were issued to the Inquisitor at
Florence, as soon as the month had elapsed, to _compel_ Galileo to set
out for Rome.[312] Niccolini wrote to Cioli on the 11th[313] and to
Galileo on the 12th[314] December, that he had again tried to procure a
longer respite, but had found it impossible. He moreover strongly advised
Galileo to set out as soon as possible, and stay for at least twenty
days’ quarantine somewhere within the territory of Siena, as this prompt
obedience would be greatly to his advantage at Rome.
But the time appointed had nearly elapsed, and Galileo made no
preparations for starting. Shortly before it terminated, in accordance
with his instructions, the Inquisitor at Florence sent his vicar to him.
On 18th December the Inquisitor sent the following report to Rome:—
“My vicar found Galileo Galilei in bed. He told him he was
quite willing to come, but in these times he had no heart for
it; besides, just now, owing to having been attacked by sudden
illness, he was not in a condition to set out. He has sent me
the enclosed medical certificate. So that I have not failed to
do my duty.”[315]
The medical certificate, dated 17th December, gives a clear idea of the
physical condition of this much-tried man, and we therefore give it in
full. It is signed by the doctors Vettorio de Rossi, Giovanni Ronconi,
and Pietro Cervieri, and is as follows:—
“We, the undersigned physicians, certify that we have examined
Signor Galileo Galilei, and find that his pulse intermits
every three or four beats, from which we conclude that
his vital powers are affected, and at his great age much
weakened. To the above are to be ascribed frequent attacks of
giddiness, hypochondriacal melancholy, weakness of the stomach,
sleeplessness, and flying pains about the body, to which others
also can testify. We have also observed a serious hernia with
rupture of the peritoneum. All these symptoms are worthy of
notice, as under the least aggravation they might evidently
become dangerous to life.”[316]