Certain Catholic writers express the hope, at the expense of truth, for

the sake of Galileo’s salvation and honour, that he really had, from

conviction, renounced the opinion which he had been labouring for and

advocating up to old age. Indeed, the super-Catholic author of an essay,

called “The Holy See against Galileo Galilei and the Astronomical System

of Copernicus,”[405] does not hesitate to say: “Probably the physical

absurdities of his (Galileo’s) doctrine had achieved a victory for the

voice of reason and religion.”[406] Undoubtedly there were many physical

difficulties in the way of a general acceptance of the new doctrines

(especially the prevailing incorrect ideas about the specific gravity

of the air),[407] and they were only finally overcome by the discovery

of the law of gravitation by the genius of Newton; but they were not

so great as to prevent men, like Kepler, Descartes, Gassendi, Diodati,

Philip Landsberg, Joachim Rhäticus, and others, and above all, the great

Italian reformer of physics and astronomy, from, even at that time,

recognising the truth of the new theory. It does not appear, either, that

the author of that article had much faith in his own conjecture, for he

proceeds to a demonstration, from opposite premises, which was for a time

much in vogue with the Jesuitical defenders of the Inquisition against

Galileo, and which must therefore be briefly mentioned.

This was nothing less than an attempt to show that even if Galileo held

the Copernican system to be the only true one, he could, thanks to the

wording of the formula of recantation, utter it without doing violence

to his conscience; or, what is now known to be truth.[408] Galileo swore

that he never had believed and never would believe (1) “that the sun was

the centre of the earth and immovable.” That he could easily do, says our

author, for, in relation to the fixed stars, the sun by no means forms

the centre; and heavy bodies on the earth fall towards its centre and not

towards the sun, which, also, in this sense, was not the centre! There

was no difficulty for Galileo in recanting that the sun was immovable,

for he had himself concluded from the motion of the spots that it

revolved on its own axis.[409] As to the earth, he abjured it as an error

(2) that “the earth is not the centre;” quite right, for it is the centre

for heavy bodies: and it was not said—“the centre of the universe;” (3)

“that the earth moves;” vast efforts of sophistry were necessary to make

this desperately precise proposition square with the arguments of this

curious casuist. He therefore says, that as, according to the wording,

it is not the diurnal motion of the earth that is in question, this

proposition has quite a different meaning, in which, on the one hand, it

must be said that the earth is immovable, and on the other, that it is

only motion through the air from one place to another that is excluded.

The earth may certainly, both in relation to its physical conformation

and in contrast to what goes on upon it, be called immovable![410] At

the time when these lines were written, in 1875, the author of this

article in the “Historisch-politischen Blättern” was unknown to us.

Afterwards, through the liberality of the Bavarian Government, among

other works relating to Galileo in the Royal Library, the following

were lent to us:—(1) “Di Copernico e di Galileo, scritto postumo del P.

Maurizio-Benedetto Olivieri, Ex. generale dei domenicani e Commissario

della S. Rom. ed Univ. Inquisizione ora per la prima volta messo in luce

sull’ autografo per cura d’un religioso dello stesso istituto. Bologna,

1872”; (2) “Il S. Officio, Copernico e Galileo a proposito di un opusculo

postumo del P. Olivieri sullo stesso argomento apunti di Gilberto Govi.

Torino, 1872.” To our no small surprise we found, on reading the former,

that it had by no means “seen the light” for the first time in 1872, but

had appeared thirty-one years before in a literal German translation, as

the article above mentioned in the “Historisch-politischen Blättern,”

with a few insignificant alterations, and a different title, the old

one being given in a note. Neither the editor of the first Italian work

of Olivieri, the Dominican monk, Fra. Tommaso Bonora, nor the author of

the above rejoinder,[411] Gilberto Govi, had, as appears from what they

say, the least idea of this singular fact. In Germany, Professor Clemens

of Bonn, was universally believed to be the author of this article,

which excited great attention; so firmly was it held, that Professor

Moritz Cantor, in a notice of the present work, gave no credence to

our discovery, but stated in his critique, “The anonymous writer was

not Olivieri, but Professor Clemens of Bonn.”[412] Upon this we sent

Professor Cantor the essay from the “Historisch-politischen Blättern” and

Bonora’s work for examination, when he was constrained to be convinced by

the sight of his own eyes.

The wretched attempt thus to clear the Inquisition, by Olivieri’s

method, of the reproach of having extorted an oath from Galileo entirely

against his convictions, is unworthy of refutation. By impartial

posterity the oath is and must be regarded as perjury, and is all the

more repulsive because the promise was coupled with it that, “if he met

with a heretic, or person suspected of heresy,” he would denounce him

to the authorities of the Church; that is, the master would denounce

his disciples—for by a “heretic, or any one suspected of heresy,” the

adherents of the Copernican system must be chiefly understood—to the

persecution of the Inquisition! The taking of this degrading oath may,

under the circumstances, be excused, but it never can be justified.

After this painful act of world-wide interest had been completed, Galileo

was conducted back to the buildings of the Holy Office. Now that he and

the Copernican system had been condemned with becoming solemnity by the

Holy Office, Urban VIII. magnanimously gave the word for mercy; that is,

Galileo was not, as the sentence prescribed, detained in the prisons of

the Inquisition, but a restricted amount of liberty was granted him.

The Roman curia never entirely let go its hold upon him as long as he

lived. On the day after the sentence was passed, the Pope exchanged

imprisonment for temporary banishment, to the villa of the Grand Duke of

Tuscany at Trinita de’ Monti, near Rome,[413] whither Niccolini conducted

his unfortunate friend on the evening of 24th June, as we find from the

despatch before quoted from him to Cioli of 26th of the month.[414]

We learn from the same source that while Galileo took the prohibition of

his book, of which he was aware beforehand, with tolerable composure,

the unexpected proceedings of the Holy Office against him personally,

affected him most deeply. Niccolini did his best to rouse him from his

deep depression, but at first with little success.[415] Galileo longed

to leave Rome, where he had suffered so much, and therefore addressed the

following petition to Urban VIII.:—

“Most Holy Father! Galileo Galilei most humbly begs your

Holiness to exchange the place assigned to him for his prison

near Rome, for some other in Florence, which may appear

suitable to your Holiness, in consideration of his poor health,

and also because the petitioner is expecting a sister with

eight children from Germany, to whom no one can afford help and

protection so well as himself. He will receive any disposition

of your Holiness as a great favour.”[416]

But in the Vatican the opinion prevailed that to allow Galileo to return

to Florence already would be a superfluity of indulgence. The Pope said

to Niccolini: “We must proceed gently, and only rehabilitate Galileo

by degrees.”[417] Still Urban was disposed to grant the ambassador’s

request, and to alter the penalty so far as to allow the exile to go to

Siena, to the house of the Archbishop Ascanio Piccolomini, whom we know

as a warm friend of Galileo’s. Niccolini’s urgent entreaties succeeded

in obtaining a papal decree of 30th June, ordering Galileo to go by the

shortest route to Siena, to go to the Archbishop’s at once, to remain

there, and strictly to obey his orders; and he was not to leave that city

without permission from the Congregation.[418] Galileo was informed of

this decree on 2nd July by the Commissary-General of the Inquisition,

Father Vincenzo Maccolani di Firenzuola, in person.[419] On 10th July,

Niccolini reported to Cioli: “Signor Galileo set out early on Wednesday,

6th July, in good health, for Siena, and writes to me from Viterbo, that

he had performed four miles on foot, the weather being very cool.”[420]

CHAPTER X.

_CURRENT MYTHS._

Popular Story of Galileo’s Fate.—His Eyes put out.—“E pur si

Muove.”—The Hair Shirt.—Imprisonment.—Galileo only detained

twenty-two Days at the Holy Office.—Torture.—Refuted in 18th

Century.—Torture based on the words, “_examen rigorosum_.”—This

shown to be untenable.—Assertion that the Acts have been

falsified refuted.—False Imputation on Niccolini.—Conclusive

Evidence against Torture.—Galileo not truly a “Martyr of

Science.”

Before following Galileo’s fate to the end, so far as his relations with

the curia are concerned, it seems desirable to glance at the fables and

exaggerations, mostly originating in malice and fierce partisanship,

which, in defiance of the results of the latest historical research, are

not only circulated among the public at large, but introduced, to some

extent, even in works which profess to contain history.

According to these legends, Galileo languishes during the trial in

the prisons of the Inquisition; when brought before his judges, he

proudly defends the doctrine of the double motion; he is then seized by

the executioners of the Holy Office, and subjected to the horrors of

torture; but even then—as heroic fable demands—he for a long time remains

steadfast; under pain beyond endurance he promises obedience, that

is, the recantation of the Copernican system. As soon as his torn and

dislocated limbs permit, he is dragged before the large assembly of the

Congregation, and there, kneeling in the penitential shirt, with fierce

rage in his heart, he utters the desired recantation. As he rises he is

no longer able to master his indignation, and fiercely stamping with his

foot, he utters the famous words: “E pur si muove!” He is, therefore,

thrown into the dank dungeons of the dreaded tribunal, where his eyes are

put out!

The blinding of Galileo is a creation of the lively popular mind, which,

with its love of horrors, embellishes tragical historical events by

fictitious additions of this kind, just suited to the palates of people

accustomed to coarse diet. Galileo’s subsequent loss of sight may

have given rise to the fable, which first appeared in the “History of

Astronomy” by Estevius.[421] It is not known who was the inventor of the

assumed exclamation, “E pur si muove,” which sounds well, and has become

a “winged word;” but besides not being historic, it very incorrectly

indicates the old man’s state of mind; for he was morally completely

crushed. Professor Heis, who has devoted a treatise to the origin of this

famous saying, thinks that he has discovered its first appearance in the

“Dictionnaire Historique,” Caen, 1789;[422] Professor Grisar tells us,

however, in his studies on the trial of Galileo, that in the “Lehrbuch

der philosophischen Geschichte,” published at Würzburg, 1774, fifteen

years earlier, by Fr. N. Steinacher, the following edifying passage

occurs:—

“Galileo was neither sufficiently in earnest nor steadfast with his

recantation; for the moment he rose up, when his conscience told him that

he had sworn falsely, he cast his eyes on the ground, stamped with his

foot, and exclaimed, ‘E pur si muove.’”[423]

Besides the fact that these words are not attributed to Galileo by any of

his contemporaries, not even the best informed, the fallacy of the whole

story is obvious; for the witnesses of this outbreak, his judges, in

fact, would assuredly not have allowed so audacious a revocation of his

recantation to escape unpunished; it is, indeed, impossible to conjecture

what the consequences would have been; the recusant would certainly not

have been released two days afterwards from the buildings of the Holy

Office.

Although this dramatic scene is not mentioned as worthy of credit by

any modern historian,[424] it is different with the hair shirt in which

Galileo is said to have performed the humiliating act. Libri, Cousin,

Parchappe, and very recently Louis Combes,[425] all gravely relate that

the philosopher had to recant “en chemise.”

The official document, although it goes very much into detail as to the

way in which the oath was performed, says nothing of the shirt, and these

authors should have said nothing either. The doubtful source in which

this fable originated is an anonymous and very confused note on a MS. in,

the Magliabechiana Library at Florence, where among other nonsense we

find: “the poor man (Galileo), appeared clad in a ragged shirt, so that

it was really pitiable.”[426] We agree with Epinois,[427] that history

requires more authentic testimony than that of an anonymous note.

But upon what testimony, then, do a large number of authors speak with

much pathos of the imprisonment which Galileo had to undergo? No sort

of documents are referred to as evidence of the story; this is quite

intelligible, for none exist. Or is the rhetorical phrase, “Galileus nunc

in vinculis detinetur,”[428] contained in a letter of May, 1633, from

Rome, from Holstein to Peiresc, to be taken as evidence that Galileo was

really languishing in the prisons of the Inquisition? One glance at the

truest historical source for the famous trial,—the official despatches

of Niccolini to Cioli, from 15th August, 1632, to 3rd December, 1633,

from which we have so freely quoted,—would have convinced any one that

Galileo spent altogether only twenty-two days (12-30th April, and

afterwards 21-24th June, 1633) in the buildings of the Holy Office; and

even then, not in a prison cell with grated windows, but in the handsome

and commodious apartment of an official of the Inquisition. But such

writers do not seem to have been in the habit of studying authorities;

thus, for example, in the “Histoire des Hérésies,” by P. Domenico

Bernini, and in the “Grande Dictionnaire Bibliographique” of Moreri, we

find it stated that Galileo was imprisoned five or six years at Rome!

Monteula, in his “Histoire des Mathematiques,” and Sir David Brewster, in

his “Martyrs of Science,” reduce the period, perhaps from pity for the

poor “martyr,” to one year; Delambre, however, felt no such compassion,

and says in his “Histoire de l’Astronomie Ancienne,” that Galileo was

condemned to an imprisonment which lasted “several years”! Such an error

is the more surprising from the last celebrated author, as we know that

trustworthy extracts from the original acts of the Vatican MS. were in

his hands.[429] Even in a very recent work, Drager’s “Geschichte der

Conflicte zwischen Religion und Wissenschaft,” Leipzig, 1875 (“History

of the Conflicts between Religion and Science”), it is seriously stated

that Galileo was detained three years in the prisons of the Inquisition!

Thus we see that the fable of Galileo’s imprisonment has been adopted by

several authors without any historical foundation, and this is to a far

greater extent the case with the famous story of the torture to which he

is said to have been subjected. As it has held its ground, although only

sporadically, even up to the most recent times,[430] it seems incumbent

on us to go more deeply into this disputed question.

Curiously enough, it is towards the end of the eighteenth century that

we find the first traces of this falsehood, and from the fact that three

_savans_, Frisi,[431] Brenna,[432] and Targioni,[433] who wrote lives of

Galileo at that time, raised a protest against it. Although they were

not then able, as we are now, to base their arguments upon the Acts of

the trial, they had even then authentic materials in their hands—the

despatches between Niccolini and Cioli,[434] then recently published by

Fabroni—which rendered it utterly improbable that the old man had been

placed upon the rack. These materials were thoroughly turned to account

eighty years later by T. B. Biot, in his essay, “La verité sur le procès

de Galilei.”[435] He clearly showed from the reports of the ambassador

that Galileo had neither suffered torture during his first stay in the

buildings of the Holy Office, from 12-30th April, when he daily wrote to

Niccolini,[436] and was in better health when he returned to the embassy

than when he left it;[437] nor during the three days of his second

detention, from 21-24th June, at the end of which he was conducted by

Niccolini, on the evening of the 24th, to the Villa Medici.[438] On 6th

July he set out thence, “in very good health,” for Siena, and in spite of

his advanced age performed four miles on foot for his own pleasure,[439]

which an infirm old man of seventy, if he had suffered torture a

fortnight before, would surely not have been able to do.

But all these plain indications go for nothing with some historians,

whose judgment is warped by partisanship, and who are not willing to give

up the notion that Galileo did suffer the pangs of torture. And so we

find this myth, at first mentioned by a few authors as a mere unauthentic

report, assuming a more and more distinct form, until it is brought

forward, with acute and learned arguments, as, to say the least, very

probable, by Libri, Brewster, Parchappe, Eckert, and others.

These writers base their assertion on the following passage in the

sentence:—

“And whereas it appeared to us that you had not stated the full

truth with regard to your intention, we thought it necessary to

subject you to a rigorous examination (_examen rigorosum_), at

which (without prejudice however, to the matters confessed by

you, and set forth as above with regard to your said intention)

you answered like a good Catholic.”

These writers assert, on the one hand, that the expression “_examen

rigorosum_,” in the vocabulary of the Inquisition could mean nothing

but torture; and on the other, they take the expression that Galileo

had “answered as a good Catholic” under _examen rigorosum_, to mean

that they had extorted from him a confession as to his intention, and

conclude that torture had been resorted to. But on closer scrutiny of the

wording of the passage, the meaning appears to be exactly the contrary;

for the sentence in parenthesis says plainly that Galileo had “answered

as a good Catholic” “_without prejudice_” to his previous depositions

or the conclusions which his judges had previously arrived at as to his

intention, and which Galileo persistently denied. His Catholic answer

consisted in his repeated assurance that he did not hold the opinion of

Copernicus, and had not held it after the command to renounce it had been

intimated to him. The Inquisition could but call this a Catholic answer,

as Galileo thereby entirely renounced the condemned doctrine.[440]

We turn now to the other assertion of these writers, that “_examen

rigorosum_” means torture. This is in a general sense correct, if by

torture the actual application of it is not intended. But they take the

passage in the sentence for decisive evidence that torture was actually

carried out, in which they are mistaken, as the following passage from

the “Sacro Arsenale” undoubtedly proves: “If the culprit who was merely

taken to the torture chamber, and there undressed, or also bound, without

however being lifted up, confessed, it was said that he had confessed

under torture and under _examen rigorosum_.”[441] The last expression

then by no means always implies the actual application of torture. Dr.

Wohlwill knows this passage, and the sentence therefore only proves to

him that Galileo was taken into the torture chamber; what took place

there, whether the old man was actually tortured, or whether they

contented themselves with urging him to speak the truth, and threatening

him with the instruments they were showing him (a degree of torture

called _territio realis_), appears shrouded in mystery to Dr. Wohlwill.

In spite of his acquaintance with the literature of the Inquisition, he

has fallen into a mistake. He thinks that the _territio realis_ was

the first degree of torture.[442] But this was not the case. Limborch’s

work, “Historia Inquisitionis,” with which Wohwill does not seem to be

acquainted, contains definite information on the point. He says that

there were five grades of torture, which followed in regular order, and

quotes the following passage verbatim from Julius Clarus: “Know then that

there are five degrees of torture: First, the threat of the rack; second,

being taken into the torture chamber; third, being undressed and bound;

fourth, being laid upon the rack; fifth, turning the rack.”[443] The

_territio realis_ was therefore by no means the first degree of torture;

the first was the threat of torture, still outside the torture chamber in

the ordinary court, called _territio verbalis_,[444] which proceeding we

find in the examination of Galileo on 21st June. The expression “_examen

rigorosum_” in the sentence, appears therefore, taking it to indicate

torture in a general sense, fully justified by historical facts.

It would be more difficult to prove that “_examen rigorosum_” in the

sentence meant actual torture, or _territio realis_. According to the

rules of the Holy Office, a number of strict regulations were prescribed

for the procedure, which began with taking the accused into the torture

chamber, and the neglect of any one of them made the whole examination

null and void. The most important were as follows: First, a short final

examination had to take place outside the torture chamber, at which

the accused was told that he had better confess, or recourse will be

had to torture. (This took place precisely according to the rules of

the Holy Office at Galileo’s trial at the examination on 21st June.)

If the accused persisted, and if in a special Congregation for this

case the necessity of recourse to torture had previously been agreed

upon[445] (this must have taken place in the Congregation of 16th June),

the judge had to order the removal of the accused, to the torture

chamber by a special formal decree, as follows:—“Tunc D.D. sedentes ...

visa pertinacia et obstinatione ipsius constitati, visoque et mature

considerato toto tenore processus ... decreverunt, ipsum constituum esse

torquendum tormento funis pro veritate habendo.... Et ideo mandaverunt

ipsum constitutum duci ad locum tormentorum.”[446]

Second, a notary of the Inquisition had to be present in the torture

chamber, and the judges had to see “that he noted down not only all the

answers of the accused, but all his expressions and movements, every word

that he uttered on the rack, even every sigh, cry, and groan.”[447]

Third, within twenty-four hours after his release from the torture

chamber, the accused had to ratify all his utterances under the torments

of the rack, or under threat of them, in the usual court. Otherwise the

whole proceeding was null and void.[448]

Of all these documents, which must have existed if actual torture had

been employed, or even if Galileo had been taken into the torture

chamber, there is not a trace in the Acts of the trial in the Vatican.

Dr. Wohlwill[449] and Dr. Scartazzini[450] assert, with more boldness

than evidence, that most of these documents did exist, but that

afterwards, and in the present century, as the whole of the documents

have been tampered with for a special purpose, these compromising papers

have been withdrawn! The Vatican MS. contains one document which, one

would think, is indisputable evidence that only the _territio verbalis_

was employed against Galileo. We allude to the Protocol of the last

examination of 21st June. Up to the final answer of the accused the

questions of the Inquisitor agree _verbatim_ with the formula of

examination which the “Sacro Arsenale” gives for questioning as to the

Intention;[451] but when, if it was intended to proceed to torture or

even to take Galileo into the torture chamber, the decree about it

should follow, we find instead the concluding sentence: “_Et cum nihil

aliud posset haberi in executionem decreti habita eius subscriptione

remissus fuit ad locum suum._” This is, up to the words “_in executionem

decreti_,” the usual concluding sentence of the last examination when it

ended without torture.[452] These exceptional words refer to the decree

of 16th June, 1633, which minutely described the judicial proceedings to

be taken against Galileo, and by which certainly the _threat_ of torture,

but by no means actual recourse to it, was ordained by the Pope and the

Sacred Congregation.[453]

The concluding sentence of the last examination of Galileo being on

the one hand in exact agreement with the decree of 16th June, and on

the other being a precise and definite statement, is a strong proof

of the correctness of the opinion long defended by calm and impartial

historians, like Albèri, Reumont, Biot, Cantor, Bouix, Troussart, Reusch,

and even the passionate opponent of Rome, Prof. Chasles, that Galileo’s

feeble frame was never subjected to the horrors of torture. Wohlwill also

acknowledges the force of this concluding sentence—if it be genuine. He

thinks these words are a falsification in the present century, while

originally Galileo’s last answer was followed by the necessary decree for

proceeding to torture, and then by the protocol about the proceedings in

the torture chamber. Dr. Scartazzini goes even further than Wohlwill, and

maintains that not only the concluding sentence, but the whole protocol

of the examination of 21st June, as now found in the Vatican MS., is a

later falsified insertion. We shall see why he thinks so by and by.

We may remark in passing, from our own experience, that it is always

venturesome to affirm that there are falsifications in a MS. without even

having seen it, to say nothing of having examined it. Thus, for instance,

a glance at the original shows on material grounds that there can be no

suspicion of falsification or later insertion in the protocol of 21st

June. Both pages on which it is written, fols. 452, 453, are second pages

to fols. 413 and 414, on which the protocol of Galileo’s trial of 12th

April begins. A later insertion is therefore an impossibility. Besides,

the protocol of 21st June ends in the middle of fol. 435 ro, and, after

a space of scarcely two fingers’ breadth follows an annotation of 30th

June, 1633, in exactly the same handwriting as the annotations of 16th

June, 1633, 23rd September, 9th and 30th December, 1632. This really

seems to render the bold conjecture of falsification wholly untenable.

The unquestioned genuineness of Galileo’s signature, which concludes

this as well as all the other protocols, is also a guarantee of its

authenticity. Dr. Scartazzini has taken advantage of our information

that this signature, unlike all Galileo’s others, is in a very trembling

hand, to assert that it is not genuine. We are of opinion that a forger

would have taken every pains to make the signature as much like the

others as possible, and certainly would not have written in remarkably

trembling characters. No; this signature, which is unmistakably like the

rest, reflects his fearful agitation, and is by no means a forgery of the

nineteenth century.

Let us see now why Dr. Scartazzini insists that not only the concluding

sentence, but the whole protocol of 21st June, is a falsification. The

reason is not far to seek. As we have seen, according to the rules of the

Inquisition, if Galileo had really suffered torture, or if they had only

proceeded to _territio realis_ against him, within twenty-four hours of

leaving the torture chamber he would have had to confirm the depositions

made there, in the ordinary court. But the passing of the sentence and

the recantation took place on the 22nd, on the day therefore on which the

tortured Galileo would have had to ratify these depositions, and not till

after this could the sentence be legally drawn up. Dr. Scartazzini sees

plainly enough that Galileo’s ratification, the drawing up and passing

of the sentence, and the recantation, could not possibly all have taken

place in one morning. But he finds his way out of this _cul-de-sac_ in

a remarkably simple manner; he boldly asserts that the date is false,

that the last examination was not on 21st June, but earlier, perhaps

on the 17th! The whole protocol, therefore, must be false. Of course

Dr. Scartazzini has not a shadow of evidence to give for his assertion.

He contents himself with the singular reason that the papal decree of

16th June did not admit of a delay of five or six days, but would be at

once carried out.[454] This arbitrary assertion is contradicted by the

official report of Niccolini to Cioli of 26th June, 1633, in which he

says that Galileo was summoned on Monday evening to the Holy Office, and

went on Tuesday morning to learn what was wanted of him; he was detained

there, and taken on Wednesday to the Minerva.[455] The dates given by

Niccolini agree precisely with those of the protocol of Galileo’s last

hearing, which is assumed to be false! In face of this evidence, so

conclusive for any serious historian, Dr. Scartazzini remarks: “the

Tuscan ambassador’s memory must have failed him, whether involuntarily

or voluntarily.”[456] We leave all comment on this kind of historical

evidence to the reader.

But we must raise a decided protest, in the name of impartial

history, against the way in which Dr. Scartazzini, in order to lend

some probability to the above remark, afterwards tries to make out

that Niccolini had repeatedly sent romances to Florence, in order to

represent to the Grand Duke, who was so anxious about Galileo, how much

he (Niccolini) had exerted himself for him, and had actually achieved.

Thus Dr. Scartazzini comes to the conclusion, which must excite the ire

of every right-minded person, that “the Tuscan ambassador, Niccolini,

is a liar.”[457] Niccolini then, Galileo’s noblest, most devoted, and

indefatigable friend, who was at his side in every difficulty, and

certainly did more for him at Rome than was ordered at Florence, and

perhaps even more than was approved,—this historical figure, worthy of

our utmost reverence,—was a liar! Happily it is with Dr. Scartazzini

alone that the odium of the accusation rests; in the annals of _history_,

the name of Niccolini stands untarnished, and every Italian, every

educated man, will think with gratitude of the man who nobly and

disinterestedly stood by the side of Galileo Galilei at the time of his

greatest peril. Honour be for ever to his memory!

We give, in conclusion, one more instance of a curious kind of evidence

that Galileo really was subjected to torture. Professor Eckert thinks he

knows with “almost geometrical certainty that Galileo suffered torture

during the twenty-four hours which he spent before the Inquisition.”

In proof of this assertion the author says: “In conclusion, the two

hernias which the unfortunate old man had after his return is a proof

that he must have endured that kind of torture called _il tormento della

corda_.”[458] This shrewd conclusion falls to the ground in face of

the medical certificate of 17th December, 1632, wherein among the rest

we find: “We have also observed a serious hernia, with rupture of the

peritoneum.”[459] And further, this certificate affords indisputable

evidence that both his age[460] and his state of health, in consequence

of the rupture, were sufficient to protect him against torture according

to the rules of the Holy Office.[461] Galileo would have had to be

professionally examined by a physician and surgeon, and, according to

their written report, he would either have been subjected to torture,

or a dispensation would have been granted against it, and all this

would have been minutely recorded in the Acts of the trial.[462] It is

needless to say that among these papers there is not a trace either of

any protest of Galileo’s, nor of the certificates of the physicians of

the Holy Office; and that according to the protocol of the hearing of

21st June, it never went so far, and the Pope himself, as the decree of

16th June undoubtedly proves, never intended that it should.

No, Galileo never suffered bodily torture, nor was he even terrified by

being taken into the torture chamber and shown the instruments; he was

only mentally stretched upon the rack, by the verbal threat of it in the

ordinary judgment hall, while the whole painful procedure, and finally

the humiliating public recantation, was but a prolonged torture for the

old man in his deep distress. Libri, Brewster, and other rhetorical

authors have desired to stamp Galileo as a “martyr of science” in the

full sense of the words. But this will not do for two reasons, as Henri

Martin[463] justly points out. In the first place, Galileo did not suffer

torture; and in the second, a true martyr, that is, a witness unto blood,

never under any circumstances, not even on burning coals, abjures his

opinions, or he does not deserve the name.

For the sake of Galileo’s moral greatness, his submission may be

regretted, but at all events greater benefit has accrued from it to

science, than if, in consequence of a noble steadfastness which we should

have greeted with enthusiasm, he had perished prematurely at the stake

or had languished in the dungeons of the Inquisition. It was after the

famous trial that he presented the world with his immortal “Dialoghi

delle Nuove Scienze.”

PART III.

_GALILEO’S LAST YEARS._

CHAPTER I.

_GALILEO AT SIENA AND ARCETRI._

Arrival at Siena.—Request to the Grand Duke of Tuscany

to ask for his release.—Postponed on the advice of

Niccolini.—Endeavours at Rome to stifle the Copernican

System.—Sentence and Recantation sent to all the Inquisitors

of Italy.—Letter to the Inquisitor of Venice.—Mandate

against the Publication of any New Work of Galileo’s

or New Edition.—Curious Arguments in favour of the Old

System.—Niccolini asks for Galileo’s release.—Refusal,

but permission given to go to Arcetri.—Anonymous

accusations.—Death of his Daughter.—Request for permission

to go to Florence.—Harsh refusal and threat.—Letter to

Diodati.—Again at work.—Intervention of the Count de Noailles

on his behalf.—Prediction that he will be compared to

Socrates.—Letter to Peiresc.—Publication of Galileo’s Works in

Holland.—Continued efforts of Noailles.—Urban’s fair speeches.

Galileo arrived safely at Siena on 9th July, and was most heartily

welcomed by Ascanio Piccolomini.[464] But neither his devoted kindness,

nor stimulating converse with his friend, who was well versed in

science, and the learned Alessandro Marsili, who lived at Siena, could

make him forget that he was still a prisoner of the Inquisition, and

that his residence there was compulsory. He longed for liberty, the

highest earthly good, and next to this for Florence, which had become

a second home to him. In order to attain this fervent desire, on 23rd

July he addressed a letter to Cioli,[465] with an urgent request that

his Highness the Grand Duke, to please whom Urban VIII. had done so

much, would be graciously pleased to ask the Pope, on whose will alone

it depended, for his release. Only five days afterwards, Galileo

received tidings from Cioli that Ferdinand II. had in the kindest

manner consented to make the attempt, and that Niccolini was already

commissioned to petition at the Vatican, in the name of the Grand Duke,

for a full pardon for his chief philosopher.[466] But the ambassador

had good reasons for thinking that it was too soon, and that it would

certainly be in vain to ask for Galileo’s entire release, and replied to

this effect to Cioli, adding the advice not to do anything in it till

autumn.[467] It was therefore decided at Florence, in consideration of

Niccolini’s doubts and his intimate knowledge of affairs at Rome, not

to intervene with the Pope in favour of Galileo for two months, which

decision was communicated by Bocchineri to the prisoner at Siena in a

letter of 13th August.[468]

While Galileo was bearing his banishment in Siena, which Ascanio

Piccolomini did all in his power to ameliorate, with resignation, and

was even diligently at work on his “Dialoghi delle Nuove Scienze,” war

was being waged with great vigour against the Copernican doctrine at

Rome, and the utmost efforts were being made to stifle it in Catholic

countries in general, and in Italy in particular. Urban VIII. first

visited with severe punishment all those dignitaries of the Church who,

in virtue of their official position, had conduced to the publication

of the “Dialogues.” Father Riccardi was deprived of his office, and the

Inquisitor at Florence was reprimanded for having given permission to

print the work.[469] In accordance with a decree passed in the sitting

of the Congregation of 16th June, 1633, the sentence on, and recantation

of, Galileo were sent to all the nunciatures of Europe, as well as to

all archbishops, bishops, and inquisitors of Italy. The form in which

this commission was issued to the ecclesiastical dignitaries is of great

historical interest. One of the letters which accompanied the decree and

ordered its publication has been preserved to us by Father Polacco in his

“Anti-Copernicus Catholicus,” published at Venice in 1644.[470] It was

addressed to the Inquisitor at Venice, and was as follows; the rest were

probably similar:—

Most Reverend Father,—

Although the treatise of Nicholas Copernicus, ‘De

Revolutionibus Orbium Celestium,’ had been suspended by the

Congregation of the Index, because it was therein maintained

that the earth moves, but not the sun, but that it stands

still in the centre of the world (which opinion is contrary to

Holy Scripture); and although many years ago, Galileo Galilei,

Florentine, was forbidden by the Congregation of this Holy

Office to hold, defend, or teach the said opinion in any way

whatsoever, either verbally or in writing; the said Galileo

ventured nevertheless to write a book signed Galileo Galilei

Linceus; and as he did not mention the said prohibition, he

extorted licence to print, and did then actually have it

printed. He stated, in the beginning, middle, and end of it,

that he intended to treat the said opinion of Copernicus

hypothetically, but he did it in such a manner (though he ought

not to have discussed it in any way) as to render himself

very suspicious of adhering to this opinion. Being tried on

this account, and in accordance with the sentence of their

Eminences, my Lords, confined in the prison of the Holy Office,

he was condemned to renounce this opinion, to remain in prison

during their Eminences’ pleasure, and to perform other salutary

penances; as your Reverences will see by the subjoined copy of

the sentence and abjuration, which is sent to you that you may

make it known to your vicars, and that you and all professors

of philosophy and mathematics may have knowledge of it; that

they may know why they proceeded against the said Galileo, and

recognise the gravity of his error in order that they may avoid

it, and thus not incur the penalties which they would have to

suffer in case they fell into the same.

Your Reverences, as brother,

Cardinal of St. Onufrius.

Rome, 2nd July, 1633.

Again it is worthy of note, that even in this letter it was deemed

necessary to lay special stress on the circumstance that Galileo had

acted contrary to a special prohibition issued several years before. But

then, to be sure, this formed the only _legal_ ground for the proceedings

against him.

From a letter from Guiducci to Galileo from Florence of 27th August,[471]

we learn the manner in which the publication had taken place there, on

the 12th. Both the documents were read aloud in a large assembly of

counsellors of the Holy Office, canons and other priests, professors

of mathematics and friends of Galileo, such as Pandolfini, Aggiunti,

Rinuccini, Peri, and others, who had been invited to the ceremony. This

proceeding was followed in all the more important cities of Italy, as

well as in the larger ones of Catholic Europe. It is characteristic

of the great split which existed in the scientific world about the

Copernican system, that Professor Kellison, Rector of the University of

Douai, wrote in reply to a letter of the Nuncio at Brussels, who had sent

the sentence and recantation of Galileo to that academy: “The professors

of our university are so opposed to that fanatical opinion (_phanaticæ

opinioni_), that they have always held that it must be banished from the

schools.... In our English college at Douai this paradox has never been

approved, and never will be.”[472]

The Roman curia, however, did not confine itself to trying to frighten

all good Catholics from accepting the Copernican doctrine by as wide a

circulation as possible of the sentence against Galileo; but in order to

suppress it altogether as far as might be, especially in Italy, all the

Italian Inquisitors received orders neither to permit the publication of

a new edition of any of Galileo’s works, nor of any new work.[473] On the

other hand, the Aristotelians, who had been very active since the trial,

were encouraged to confute the illustrious dead, Copernicus and Kepler,

and the now silenced Galileo, with tongue and pen. Thus in the succeeding

decades the book market was flooded with refutations of the Copernican

system.[474]

In fighting truth with falsehood very curious demonstrations were sure

now and then to come to light on the part of the adherents of the wisdom

of the ancients. We will here only mention a book dedicated to Cardinal

Barberini, which appeared in 1633: “Difesa di Scipione Chiaramonti

da Cesena al suo Antiticone, e libro delle tre nuove stelle, dall’

opposizioni dell’Autore de’ due massimi sistemi Tolemaico e Copernicano,”

in which such sagacious arguments as the following are adduced against

the doctrine of the double motion of the earth:—

“Animals, which move, have limbs and muscles; the earth has no

limbs or muscles, therefore it does not move.

“It is angels who make Saturn, Jupiter, the Sun, etc., turn

round. If the earth revolves, it must also have an angel in

the centre to set it in motion; but only devils live there, it

would therefore be a devil who would impart motion to the earth.

“The planets, the sun, the fixed stars, all belong to one

species; namely, that of stars—they therefore all move or all

stand still.

“It seems, therefore, to be a grievous wrong to place the

earth, which is a sink of impurity, among the heavenly bodies,

which are pure and divine things.”[475]

But although Galileo was condemned to silence, there were courageous and

enlightened men who, in spite of the famous sentence of the Inquisition,

not only rejected such absurdities but made energetic advance along the

new paths. At the Vatican, however, they seemed disposed, as we shall

soon see, to make Galileo answerable for the defence of the Copernican

system in Italy. For instance, at the beginning of November the Tuscan

ambassador thought the time was come to take steps for obtaining pardon

for Galileo with some prospect of success; and at an audience of the

Pope on 12th November he asked, on behalf of the Grand Duke, for the

prisoner’s release. Urban replied somewhat ungraciously, that he would

see what could be done, and would consult with the Congregation of the

Holy Office; but he remarked that it had come to his ears that some

people were writing in defence of the Copernican system. Niccolini

hastened to assure him that Galileo was not in the least implicated

in it, and that it was done entirely without his knowledge. Urban

answered drily, that he had not been exactly informed that Galileo had

anything to do with it, but he had better beware of the Holy Office. In

spite of reiterated urgent entreaty, Niccolini could get nothing more

definite about Galileo’s release than the above evasive promise, and he

communicated the doubtful success of his mission to Cioli in a despatch

of 13th November,[476] in rather a depressed state of mind.

Urban was not disposed to grant a full pardon to Galileo, and therefore

made a pretext of the Congregation to the ambassador, as if the decision

depended upon it, whereas it rested entirely with himself. Niccolini,

however, still persisted in his efforts. He went to Cardinal Barberini

and other members of the Holy Office, warmly recommending him to their

protection.[477] Meanwhile an indisposition of the Pope, which lasted

fourteen days, delayed the decision, as the Congregation did not venture

to come to any without his concurrence. At length he made his appearance

in the sitting of the Congregation of 1st December, and through the

mediation of Cardinal Barberini, the petition for Galileo’s release was

at once laid before him.[478] It was refused; but he was to be permitted

to retire to a villa at Arcetri, a _miglio_ from Florence, where he was

to remain until he heard further; he was not to receive any visits, but

to live in the greatest retirement.[479] Niccolini informed him of this

amelioration of his circumstances in a letter of 3rd December,[480] with

the expression of great regret that he could not at present obtain his

entire liberation. He added that the Pope had charged him to say that

Galileo might go to Arcetri at once, that he might receive his friends

and relations there, but not in large numbers at one time, as this might

give rise to the idea that he was giving scientific lectures. A few days

after the receipt of this letter Galileo set out for Arcetri.[481]

No sooner had he reached his villa, called “il Giojello,” which was

pleasantly situated, than he made it his first care to thank Cardinal

Barberini warmly for his urgent intercession, which had, however, only

effected this fresh alleviation of his sad fate.[482] Some rhetorical

historians make Galileo’s two daughters leave the Convent of St. Matteo,

which was certainly within gunshot of “Giojello,” in order to tend their

old and suffering father with childlike and tender care; a touching

picture, but without any historical foundation. On the contrary, it was

really one of Galileo’s greatest consolations to pay frequent visits to

his daughters, to whom he was tenderly attached, at St. Matteo, when

permitted to do so by the Holy Office. It was also a great satisfaction

to him that on a very early day after his arrival at Arcetri the Grand

Duke came from Florence, and paid the convict of the Inquisition a long

visit.[483]

But while Galileo was once more partaking of some pleasures, the

implacable malice of his enemies never slumbered. There were even

some who would have been glad to know that he was for ever safe in the

dungeons of the Inquisition. As, however, he gave them no pretext on

which they could, with any shadow of justice, have seized him, they had

recourse to the most disgraceful means—to lying, anonymous denunciation,

in which his enlightened and therefore disliked friend, the Archbishop

Ascanio Piccolomini, was ingeniously involved. On 1st February, 1634,

the following communication, without signature, was received at the Holy

Office at Rome from Siena:—

Most Reverend Sirs,—

_Galileo has diffused in this city opinions not very Catholic_,

urged on by this Archbishop, his host, who has suggested to

many persons that Galileo had been unjustly treated with so

much severity by the Holy Office, and that he neither could nor

would give up his philosophical opinions which he had defended

with irrefragable and true mathematical arguments; also that he

is the first man in the world, and will live for ever in his

works, to which, although prohibited, all modern distinguished

men give in their adherence. Now since seeds like these, sown

by a prelate of the Church, might bring forth evil fruit, a

report is made of them.[484]

Although this cowardly denunciation did not bear any immediate

consequences either to Piccolomini or Galileo, events which took place

soon after show most clearly the unfavourable impression it produced at

the Vatican. Galileo, who was very unwell, asked permission of the Pope,

through the mediation of his faithful friend Niccolini, to move into

Florence for the sake of the regular medical treatment which he required,

and which he could not well have at the villa outside the city.[485] As

if to dye his tragic fate still darker, just while he was awaiting the

result of Niccolini’s efforts, his favourite daughter Polissena, or by

her conventual name Marie Celeste, was taken so ill that her life was

soon despaired of.

It was on one of the last days of March that Galileo was returning to

his villa with a physician from a visit to his dying daughter at the

Convent of St. Matteo, in deep depression of spirits. On the way the

physician had prepared him for the worst by telling him that the patient

would scarcely survive till the morning, which proved to be the case.

On entering his house in anguish of soul, he found the messenger of the

Inquisition there, who in the name of the Holy Office gave him a strict

injunction to abstain from all such petitions in future, unless he

desired to compel the Inquisition to imprison him again. This unmerciful

proceeding had been ordered by a papal mandate of 23rd March.[486] The

Inquisitor at Florence reported on it on 1st April to Cardinal Barberini,

as follows:—

“I have communicated to Galileo what was commanded by your

Eminence. He adduced as an excuse that he had only done it on

account of a frightful rupture. But the villa he lives in is

so near the city that he can easily have the physicians and

surgeons there, as well as the medicines he requires.”[487]

A passage in a letter from Galileo to Geri Bocchineri at Florence, of

27th April, shows that the excuse was no empty pretext, and that he

urgently needed to have medical aid always at hand. He says:—

“I am going to write to you about my health, which is very

bad. I suffer much more from the rupture than has been the

case before; my pulse intermits, and I have often violent

palpitation of the heart; then the most profound melancholy has

come over me. I have no appetite, and loathe myself; in short,

I feel myself perpetually called by my beloved daughter. Under

these circumstances I do not think it advisable that Vincenzo

should set out on a journey now, as events might occur at any

time which might make his presence desirable, for besides what

I have mentioned, continued sleeplessness alarms me not a

little.”[488]

A letter to Diodati at Paris, from Galileo, of 25th July, is also

of great interest; an insight may be gained from it, not only into

his melancholy state of mind, but it also contains some remarkable

indications of the motives for the fierce persecution on the part of

Rome. We give the portions of the letter which are important for our

subject:—

“I hope that when you hear of my past and present misfortunes,

and my anxiety about those perhaps still to come, it will

serve as an excuse to you and my other friends and patrons

there (at Paris), for my long delay in answering your letter,

and to them for my entire silence, as they can learn from

you the unhappy turn which my affairs have taken. According

to the sentence pronounced on me by the Holy Office, I was

condemned to imprisonment during the pleasure of his Holiness,

who was pleased, however, to assign the palace and gardens

of the Grand Duke near the Trinità dei Monti, as my place of

imprisonment. As this was in June of last year, and I had been

given to understand that if I asked for a full pardon after the

lapse of that and the following month, I should receive it, I

asked meanwhile, to avoid having to spend the whole summer and

perhaps part of the autumn there, to be allowed, on account of

the season, to go to Siena, where the Archbishop’s house was

assigned to me as a residence. I staid there five months, when

this durance was exchanged for banishment to this little villa,

a _miglio_ from Florence, with a strict injunction not to go

to the city, and neither to receive the visits of many friends

at once, nor to invite any. Here, then, I was living, keeping

perfectly quiet, and paying frequent visits to a neighbouring

convent, where two daughters of mine were living as nuns; I

was very fond of them, especially of the eldest, who possessed

high mental gifts, combined with rare goodness of heart, and

she was very much attached to me. During my absence, which

she considered very perilous for me, she fell into a profound

melancholy, which undermined her health, and she was at last

attacked by a violent dysentery, of which she died after six

days’ illness, just thirty-three years of age, leaving me in

the deepest grief, which was increased by another calamity.

On returning home from the convent, in company with the

doctor who visited my sick daughter shortly before her death,

and who had just told me that her situation was desperate,

and that she would scarcely survive till the next day, as

indeed it proved, I found the Inquisitor’s Vicar here, who

informed me of a mandate from the Holy Office at Rome, which

had just been communicated to the Inquisitor in a letter from

Cardinal Barberini, that I must in future abstain from asking

permission to return to Florence, _or they would take me back

there (to Rome), and put me in the actual prison of the Holy

Office_. This was the answer to the petition, which the Tuscan

ambassador had presented to that tribunal after I had been nine

months in exile! From this answer it seems to me that, in all

probability, my present prison will only be exchanged for that

narrow and long-enduring one which awaits us all.

From this and other circumstances, which it would take too long

to repeat here, it will be seen that the fury of my powerful

persecutors continually increases. They have at length chosen

to reveal themselves to me; for about two months ago, when

a dear friend of mine at Rome was speaking of my affairs to

Father Christopher Griemberger, mathematician at the college

there, this Jesuit uttered the following precise words:—‘_If

Galileo had only known how to retain the favour of the fathers

of this college, he would have stood in renown before the

world, he would have been spared all his misfortunes, and could

have written what he pleased about everything, even about the

motion of the earth._’ From this you will see, honoured Sir,

that it is not this opinion or that which has brought, and

still brings about my calamities, _but my being in disgrace

with the Jesuits_.

I have also other proofs of the watchfulness of my persecutors.

One is that a letter from some foreigner, I do not know from

whom, addressed to me at Rome, where he supposed me still to

be, was intercepted, and delivered to Cardinal Barberini. It

was fortunate for me, as was afterwards written to me from

Rome, that it did not purport to be an answer to one from

me, but a communication containing the warmest praises of my

“Dialogues.” It was seen by many persons, and, as I hear,

copies of it were circulated at Rome. I have also been told

that I might see it. To add to all this, there are other mental

disquietudes and many bodily sufferings oppressing me at the

age of over seventy years, so that the least exertion is a

torment and a burden to me. In consideration of all this, my

friends must be indulgent to me for omissions which look like

neglect, but really arise from inability.”[489]

This deep dejection, however, could not last long with a man of so

active a mind as Galileo. The impulse which had been implanted in him

to investigate the problems of nature was too strong to be repressed by

either mental or bodily sufferings. So far from it, it was this which,

ever re-asserting itself with its normal energy, helped him to bear

them with resignation, and he often forgot his painful situation in his

scientific speculations. Thus, but a few months after his daughter’s

death, we find him rousing himself and eagerly at work again on his

masterpiece, the “Dialoghi delle Nuove Scienze.”[490] He also resumed

his extensive scientific correspondence, of which unfortunately, and

especially of the following year, 1635, the letters of his correspondents

only have mostly come down to us.[491]

While the prisoner of Arcetri was thus eagerly fulfilling his great

mission to his age, his friends were exerting themselves in vain to

obtain at least an extension of his liberty. The Count de Noailles,

French ambassador at Rome, had once attended Galileo’s lectures at Padua,

and had become so enthusiastic an adherent, that he afterwards told

Castelli that he must see Galileo once more before leaving Italy, even if

he walked fifty miles on purpose.[492] He therefore united his efforts

with Niccolini’s to obtain some amelioration for Galileo. But in vain. At

an audience which Niccolini had on 8th December, 1634, Urban said indeed

that he esteemed Galileo very highly, and was well disposed towards him;

but all remained as before.[493]

In the year 1634 the band of dauntless men, who again and again

ventured to attempt to obtain Galileo’s liberty from the papal chair,

was increased by the celebrated officer of state and man of learning,

Fabri von Peiresc. Like Noailles, he had attended Galileo’s lectures

at Padua,[494] had since been one of his most ardent admirers, and had

long maintained friendly intercourse with Cardinal Francesco Barberini.

Peiresc now interceded eagerly with this prelate for Galileo, and even

ventured openly to say, in a long and pressing letter of 5th December,

1634, to Barberini:—[495] ... “Really such proceedings will be

considered very harsh, and far more so by posterity than at present, when

no one, as it appears, cares for anything but his own interests. Indeed,

it will be a blot upon the brilliance and renown of the pontificate

of Urban VIII., unless your Eminence resolves to devote your special

attention to this affair....” On 2nd January, 1635, Barberini wrote

a long letter in reply,[496] in which he was prolix enough on many

subjects, but about Galileo he only made the dry remark, towards the end

of the letter, that he would not fail to speak to his Holiness about it,

but Peiresc must excuse him if, as a member of the Holy Office, he did

not go into the subject more particularly. In spite of this, however,

only four weeks later, Peiresc again urged Barberini, in a letter of

31st January,[497] to exert his powerful influence on behalf of Galileo.

Peiresc justified his zeal by saying, “that it arose as much from

regard for the honour and good name of the present pontificate, as from

affection for the venerable and famous old man, Galileo; for it might

well happen, by a continuance of the harsh proceedings against him, that

some day posterity would compare them with the persecutions to which

Socrates was subjected.”[498]

Galileo, who had received copies of these letters, thanked Peiresc most

warmly in a letter of 21st February, 1635, for his noble though fruitless

efforts, and added the following remarkable words:—

“As I have said, I do not hope for any amelioration, and this

because I have not committed any crime. I might expect pardon

and favour if I had done wrong, for wrong-doing affords rulers

occasion for the exercise of clemency and pardon, while towards

an innocent man under condemnation, it behoves them to maintain

the utmost severity, in order to show that they have proceeded

according to law. But believe me, revered sir, and it will

console you to know it, this troubles me less than would be

supposed, for two grounds of consolation continually come to

my aid: one of these is, that in looking all through my works,

no one can find the least shadow of anything which deviates

from love and veneration for the Holy Church; the other is my

own conscience, which can only be fully known to myself on

earth and to God in heaven. He knows that in the cause for

which I suffer, many might have acted and spoken with far more

learning and knowledge, but no one, not even among the holy

fathers, with more piety and greater zeal for the Holy Church,

nor altogether with purer intentions. My sincerely religious,

pious spirit would only be the more apparent if the calumnies,

intrigues, stratagems, and deceptions, which were resorted to

eighteen years ago to deceive and blind the authorities, were

brought to the light of day.”[499]

If the issue of the assumed stringent prohibition of 1616 were admitted,

this letter would be a piece of hypocrisy as glaring as it was

purposeless; for in that case Galileo would not have been an innocent

man under condemnation, who had committed no crime, and his conscience

could not have consoled him in his painful situation. What he wrote to

Peiresc about his religious spirit was also quite true, Galileo really

was a truly religious man; his own revolutionary discoveries had not for

a moment given rise to any doubts in his mind of supernatural mysteries

as taught by the Roman Catholic Church. All his letters, even to his

most intimate friends, proclaim it indisputably. He also perfectly well

knew how to make his researches and their results agree with the dogmas

of his religion, as is clear from his explanations to Castelli, Mgr.

Dini, and the Grand Duchess Christine. The strangest contradictions were

continually arising from this blending of a learned man striving to

search out the truths of nature, and a member of the only true Church

bound in the fetters of illusive credulity. Thus, at the end of 1633,

he did not hesitate to act in opposition to his solemn oath, literally

construed, by secretly sending a copy of his condemned and prohibited

“Dialogues” to Diodati, at Paris, that they might be translated into

Latin, and thus be more widely circulated. In 1635 the work really

appeared in a Latin translation, from the press of the Elzevirs, in

Holland, edited by a Strasburg professor, Mathias Bernegger, in order

that no suspicion might rest upon Galileo of having had anything to do

with it.[500] Such an act was very improper for a pious Catholic, and

Galileo really was one. In the following year, however, he told his old

friend, Fra Fulgenzio Micanzio, at Venice, with great delight, that

Bernegger had brought out by the same publishers the Apology to the Grand

Duchess Christine of 1615, in Italian with a Latin translation. The

secret translator, concealed under the pseudonym of Ruberto Robertini

Borasso, was also Diodati.[501] In a letter to Micanzio, as well as in

another of 12th July, Galileo expressed an ardent wish that a large

number of copies of it might be introduced into Italy, “to shame his

enemies and calumniators.”[502] As we know, this letter to the Grand

Duchess contained nothing but a theological apology for the Copernican

system, so that what gratified Galileo so much in its publication, was

that the world would now learn that he, who had been denounced as a

heretic, had always been an orthodox Christian, into whose head it had

never entered, as his enemies gave out, to attack the holy faith. Martin

is quite justified in saying that “the reputation of a good Christian and

true Catholic was as dear to Galileo as that of a good astronomer.”[503]

While Galileo was enjoying the twofold satisfaction of seeing his

“Dialogues” attain a wider circulation (they had meanwhile been

translated into English),[504] and yet of being acknowledged as a pious

subject of the Roman Catholic Church, the Count de Noailles continued

his efforts at Rome, before his approaching departure from Italy, to

obtain pardon for Galileo. Castelli, who, in consequence of his too great

devotion to Galileo and his system, had been banished for three years

from Urban’s presence, had at length, by the end of 1635, been taken

into favour again,[505] and reported faithfully to Galileo all the steps

taken to procure his liberty. The utmost caution had been exercised in

order to attain this end.[506] Count Noailles and Castelli had persuaded

Cardinal Antonio Barberini, in repeated interviews, that nothing had been

further from Galileo’s intention than to offend or make game of Urban

VIII., upon which the cardinal, at the request of the French ambassador,

promised to intercede with his papal brother for Galileo. On 11th July

Noailles made the same assurances to the Pope at an audience, whereupon

he exclaimed: “Lo crediamo, lo crediamo!” (We believe it), and again

said that he was personally very well disposed to Galileo, and had

always liked him; but when Noailles began to speak of his liberation,

he said evasively that _this affair was of the greatest moment to all

Christendom_. The French diplomatist, who knew Urban’s irritable temper,

did not think it advisable to press him further, and consoled himself for

the time, even after this cool reply, with the thought that the brother

cardinal had promised to use his good offices for Galileo.

Castelli informed Galileo in a letter of 12th July[507] of all this, and

advised him to write a letter of thanks to Cardinal Antonio for his kind

intercession, which he at once did.[508] Noailles placed all his hopes on

a farewell audience with the Pope, in which he meant to ask for Galileo’s

pardon. On 8th August he drove for the last time to the Vatican. Urban

was very gracious, and when Galileo’s affairs were introduced he even

promised at last to bring the subject before the Holy Congregation.[509]

Noailles told Cardinal Antonio of this most favourable result with joyful

emotion, who said at once: “Good! good! and I will speak to all the

cardinals of the Holy Congregation.”[510] They were apparently justified

in entertaining the most sanguine hopes, but the future taught them that

all this was nothing but fair speeches with which Urban had taken leave

of the French ambassador. For there can be no doubt that if the Pope,

with his absolute power, had been in earnest about Galileo’s liberation,

the Congregation would not have been slow to comply with his wishes.

Galileo, however, remained as before, a prisoner in his villa at Arcetri,

which he had meanwhile bought, and the papal favour, of which a promise

had been held out, was limited to allowing him, at the end of September,

to accept an invitation from the Grand Duke to visit him at his Villa

Mezzomonte, three miles from Florence,[511] and on 16th October to

leave his place of exile for one day to greet the Count de Noailles, at

Poggibonsi, in passing through it on his way to France.[512] This was the

extent of the papal clemency for the present, and it was not till the old

man was quite blind and hopelessly ill, with one foot in the grave, that

any humane feeling was awakened for him at the Vatican.

CHAPTER II.

_FAILING HEALTH AND LOSS OF SIGHT._

Galileo’s Labours at Arcetri.—Completion of the “Dialoghi delle

Nuove Scienze.”—Sends it to the Elzevirs at Leyden.—Method

of taking Longitudes at Sea.—Declined by Spain and offered

to Holland.—Discovery of the Libration and Titubation of the

Moon.—Visit from Milton.—Becomes Blind.—Letter to Diodati.—On

a hint from Castelli petitions for his Liberty.—The Inquisitor

to visit him and report to Rome.—Permitted to live at Florence

under Restrictions.—The States-General appoint a Delegate to

see him on the Longitude Question.—The Inquisitor sends word

of it to Rome.—Galileo not to receive a Heretic.—Presents

from the States-General refused from fear of Rome.—Letter to

Diodati.—Galileo supposed to be near his End.—Request that

Castelli might come to him.—Permitted under Restrictions.—The

new “Dialoghi” appear at Leyden, 1638.—They founded Mechanical

Physics.—Attract much Notice.—Improvement of Health.—In 1639

goes to Arcetri again, probably not voluntarily.

Galileo was unceasingly active in his seclusion at Arcetri. In the year

1636 he completed his famous “Dialoghi delle Nuove Scienze.”[513] He also

exerted himself, like a loving father who wishes to see his children

provided for before he dies, about the preservation and republication

of his works which were quite out of print. But all these efforts were

frustrated by envy, ecclesiastical intolerance, and the unfavourable

times. His cherished scheme of bringing out an edition of his collected

works could neither be carried out by the French mathematician, Carcavy,

who had warmly taken up the subject,[514] nor by the Elzevirs through

the mediation of Micanzio.[515] He had also to give up his project of

dedicating his “Dialoghi delle Nuove Scienze” to the German Emperor,

Ferdinand II., and of publishing them at Vienna, as he learnt from his

friend and former pupil there, Giovanni Pieroni, that his implacable

foes, the Jesuits, were all-powerful; that Ferdinand himself was entirely

under their influence; and moreover that his bitterest foe, Father

Scheiner, was just then at Vienna.[516] In the following year, however

(1637), Pieroni succeeded by his prudent and untiring efforts, during

the temporary absence of Scheiner, in obtaining a licence for Galileo’s

latest work,[517] and afterwards one at Olmütz also; but meanwhile he had

sent the MS. by Micanzio[518] to be printed by the Elzevirs at Leyden,

and, under the circumstances described by Pieroni, he did not prefer to

bring out his book at a place where his bitterest enemies were in power.

He was at this time also deeply interested in a subject which originated

as far back as 1610. It had occurred to him soon after the discovery

of Jupiter’s moons, by a series of observations of them, to make

astronomical calculations and tables which would enable him to predict

every year their configurations, their relative positions and occasional

eclipses with the utmost precision; this would furnish the means of

ascertaining the longitude of the point of observation at any hour of

the night, which appeared to be of special importance to navigation.

For hitherto the eclipses of the sun and moon had had to be employed

for the purpose, which, however, on account of their rarity and the

want of precise calculation, were neither entirely to be relied on nor

sufficient. Galileo had offered his discovery,—the practical value of

which he overrated,—in 1612, to the Spanish Government, and in 1616

tedious negotiations were carried on about it, which however led to

no result, were then postponed till 1620, and in 1630 entirely given

up.[519] Now (August, 1636,) as he heard that the Dutch merchants

had even offered a premium of thirty thousand scudi to any one who

should invent a sure method of taking longitudes at sea, he ventured,

without the knowledge of the Inquisition, to offer his invention to the

Protestant States-General. Diodati at Paris was the mediator in these

secret and ceremonious negotiations. On 11th November, Galileo’s offer

was entertained in the most flattering manner in the Assembly of the

States-General, and a commission was appointed, consisting of the four

_savans_, Realius, Hortensius, Blavius, and Golius, to examine into the

subject and report upon it.[520]

While Galileo was impatiently waiting for the decision that was never

come to, he made his last great telescopic discovery, although suffering

much in his eyes, that of the libration and titubation of the moon, about

which he wrote his remarkable letter to Alfonso Antonini, bearing the

signal date: “Della mia carcere di Arcetri li 10 febbrajo 1637.”[521]

The complaint in Galileo’s eyes grew rapidly worse. By the end of June

the sight of the right eye was gone, and that of the other diminished

with frightful rapidity from a constant discharge.[522] But in spite of

this heavy calamity, combined with his other sufferings, his interest

in science did not diminish for a moment. Even at this sad time we

find him carrying on a brisk correspondence with the learned men of

Germany, Holland, France, and Italy, continuing his negotiations with

the States-General with great zest,[523] as well as occupying himself

perpetually with astronomy and physics. He was indeed often obliged to

employ the hand of another;[524] but his mind worked on with undiminished

vigour, even though he was no longer able to commit to paper himself the

ideas that continually occupied him.

On 2nd September he received a visit from his sovereign, who came to

console and encourage him in his pitiable situation.[525] A few months

later an unknown young man, of striking appearance from his handsome face

and the unmistakable evidences which genius always exhibits, knocked

at the door of the solitary villa at Arcetri: it was Milton, then

twenty-nine years of age, who, travelling in Italy, sought out the old

man of world-wide fame to testify his veneration.[526]

In December of the same year Galileo became permanently quite blind, and

informed Diodati of his calamity on 2nd January, 1638, in the following

words:—

“In reply to your very acceptable letter of 20th November, I

inform you, in reference to your inquiries about my health,

that I am somewhat stronger than I have been of late, but alas!

revered sir, Galileo, your devoted friend and servant, has been

for a month totally and incurably blind; so that this heaven,

this earth, this universe, which by my remarkable observations

and clear demonstrations I have enlarged a hundred, nay, a

thousand fold beyond the limits universally accepted by the

learned men of all previous ages, are now shrivelled up for

me into such narrow compass that it only extends to the space

occupied by my person.”[527]

Up to the time when Galileo entirely lost his sight, absolutely

nothing had been able to be done for his liberation at Rome. Even the

faithful Castelli wrote on 12th September, to Galileo’s son Vincenzo,

that he had not been able to do anything whatever for his father; but

he piously adds, “I do not fail every morning at holy mass to pray the

Divine Majesty to comfort him, to help him, and to grant him His Divine

grace.”[528] This precisely indicates the hopeless state of Galileo’s

affairs. Just then, during the first few days of December of the same

year, darkness closed round him for ever; and not long afterwards, 12th

December, Castelli suddenly wrote to him, that he had been given to

understand that Galileo had not been forbidden in 1634 to send petitions

_direct_ to the Holy Office, but only through other persons.[529] When

the decided papal rescript of 23rd March, 1634,[530] is compared with

this curious interpretation of it, there can be no doubt that it was

intended to enable the curia to take a more lenient view without direct

collision with a former mandate. Galileo at once sent Castelli’s letter

to the Tuscan Court, with a request for instructions, as he did not wish

to do anything without the concurrence of his sovereign.[531] He was

informed that he had better draw up a petition to the Holy Office, and

get it handed in at Rome through Castelli.[532] The latter had meanwhile

informed himself under what formalities Galileo should make his request,

and sent him on 19th January, 1638,[533] a draught of the petition, with

the remark that it must be sent, together with a medical certificate,

direct to the assessor of the Congregation of the Holy Office; this

Galileo immediately did. The petition was as follows:—

“Galileo Galilei, most humble servant of your most worthy

Eminence, most respectfully showeth that whereas, by command

of the Holy Congregation, he was imprisoned outside Florence

four years ago, and after long and dangerous illness, as the

enclosed medical certificate testifies, has entirely lost his

eyesight, and therefore stands in urgent need of medical care:

he appeals to the mercy of your most worthy Eminences, urgently

intreating them in this most miserable condition and at his

advanced age to grant him the blessing of his liberty.”

The utmost caution was exercised at Rome before granting this

petition. No confidence was placed in the medical certificate; but

the Inquisitor-General of Florence, Father Fanano, was instructed to

visit Galileo and to make an exact report of his health, and whether it

was to be feared, if he lived at Florence, that he would promote the

propagation of his errors.[534] Fanano at once conscientiously executed

his commission, and on 13th February, 1638, sent the following report to

Cardinal Francesco Barberini:—

“In order the better to execute his Holiness’s commission, I

went myself, accompanied by a strange physician, an intimate

friend of mine, to see Galileo, quite unexpectedly, at his

villa at Arcetri, to find out the state he was in. My idea

was not so much by this mode of proceeding to put myself in a

position to report on the nature of his ailments, as to gain

an insight into the studies and occupations he is carrying on,

that I might be able to judge whether he was in a condition, if

he returned to Florence, to propagate the condemned doctrine

of the double motion of the earth by speeches at meetings. I

found him deprived of his eyesight, entirely blind; he hopes

for a cure, as the cataract only formed six months ago, but at

his age of seventy the physician considers it incurable. He has

besides a severe rupture, and suffers from continual weariness

of life and sleeplessness, which as he asserts, and it is

confirmed by the inmates of his house, does not permit him one

hour’s sound sleep in the twenty-four. He is besides so reduced

that he looks more like a corpse than a living man. The villa

is a long way from the city, and the access is inconvenient, so

that Galileo can but seldom, and with much inconvenience and

expense, have medical aid.[535] His studies are interrupted by

his blindness, though he is read to sometimes; intercourse

with him is not much sought after, as in his poor state of

health he can generally only complain of his sufferings

and talk of his ailments to occasional visitors. I think,

therefore, in consideration of this, if his Holiness, in his

boundless mercy, should think him worthy, and would allow him

to live in Florence, he would have no opportunity of holding

meetings, and if he had, he is so prostrated that I think it

would suffice, in order to make quite sure, to keep him in

check by an emphatic warning. This is what I have to report to

your Eminence.”[536]

This report at last opened the eyes of Urban VIII. as to Galileo’s real

condition. The cry of distress from the blind old man, approaching

dissolution, was too well justified to be wholly ignored, and a partial

hearing was given to it at all events, at a sitting of the Congregation

held on 25th February, under the presidency of the Pope.[537] But a full

release, in spite of the information that Galileo was more like a corpse

than a living man, still appeared too dangerous to be ventured on. On 9th

March Galileo received from the Inquisitor-General, Father Fanano, the

following communication:—

“His Holiness is willing to allow you to remove from your villa

to the house which you own in Florence, in order that you may

be cured of your illness here. But on your arrival in the city

you must immediately repair, or be taken, to the buildings of

the Holy Office, that you may learn from me what I must do and

prescribe for your advantage.”[538]

Galileo availed himself of the permission to return to his little

house, Via della Costa, at Florence, on the very next day. Here the

Inquisitor-General, as charged by the Holy Office, informed him, “for

his advantage,” of the order, _not to go out in the city under pain of

actual imprisonment for life and excommunication, and not to speak with

any one whomsoever of the condemned opinion of the double motion of the

earth_.[539] It was also enjoined upon him not to receive any suspicious

visitors.

It is characteristic of the mode of proceeding of the Inquisition, that

Fanano set Galileo’s own son, who was nursing him with the tenderest

affection, to watch over him. The Inquisitor enjoined upon Vincenzo

to see that the above orders were strictly obeyed, and especially to

take care that his father’s visitors never stayed long. He remarks, in

a report to Francesco Barberini of 10th March, that Vincenzo could be

trusted, “for he is very much obliged for the favour granted to his

father to be medically treated at Florence, and fears that the least

offence might entail the loss of it; but it is very much to his own

interest that his father should behave properly and keep up as long as

possible, for with his death a thousand scudi will go, which the Grand

Duke allows him annually.” In the opinion of the worthy Father Fanano,

then, the son must be anxious for his father’s life for the sake of the

thousand scudi! In the same letter the Inquisitor assured Barberini that

he would himself keep a sharp look out that his Holiness’s orders were

strictly obeyed, which, as we shall soon see, he did not fail to do.

Galileo’s confinement in Florence was so rigorous that at Easter a

special permission from the Inquisition was required to allow him to go

to the little Church of San Giorgio, very near his house, to confess,

to communicate, and to perform his Easter devotions,[540] and even

this permission only extended expressly to the Thursday, Good Friday,

Saturday, and Easter Sunday.[541] On the other hand, as appears from

the dates of his letters,[542] he was allowed, during June, July, and

August, to go several times to and fro between his villa at Arcetri and

Florence.

Galileo was now once more to discover how rigidly he was watched by the

Inquisition. His negotiations with the States-General, in spite of the

urgent intercession of such men as Diodati, Hortensius, Hugo Grotius,

Realius, Constantine Huyghens (Secretary of the Prince of Orange, and

father of the celebrated Christian Huyghens), and others, had not led to

any result. His proposed method of taking longitudes at sea, well worked

out as it was theoretically, presented many difficulties in practical

application. His methods of precisely determining the smallest portions

of time, and of overcoming the obstacles occasioned by the motion of the

vessel, did not prove to be adequate.[543] He had endeavoured, in a long

letter to Realius of 6th June, 1637,[544] to dismiss or refute all the

objections that had been made; but this did not suffice, and although the

States-General acknowledged his proposal in the main in the most handsome

terms, even accepted it, and offered him a special distinction (of which

presently), it appeared necessary to have some personal consultation

on the subject with the inventor. For this purpose, Hortensius, who

had also a great desire to make Galileo’s acquaintance, was to go to

Florence.[545] The Inquisitor-General heard that a delegate was coming

from Germany to confer with Galileo on the subject. He at once reported

this on 26th June to Rome,[546] whence he received instructions under

date of 13th July from the Congregation of the Holy Office, that Galileo

_must not receive the delegate if he were of a heretical religion, or

from a heretical country_, and the Inquisitor will please communicate

this to Galileo; on the other hand, there was nothing to prevent the

interview _if the person came from a Catholic country, and himself

belonged to the Catholic religion_; only, in accordance with the previous

regulations, the doctrine of the double motion of the earth must not be

spoken of.[547]

A few days after the Inquisitor had delivered his instructions to

Galileo, the German merchants of the name of Ebers residing in Florence,

presented him in the name of the Dutch Government with a very flattering

letter, and a heavy gold chain, as a recognition of his proposals and

a pledge of the ultimate adjustment of the negotiations. The envoys

of the States-General found Galileo very ill in bed, his blinded eyes

continually running and very much inflamed. He _felt_ the gold chain,

which he could not see, and had the letter read to him. He then handed

the chain back to the merchants, on the plea that he could not keep it

now, as the negotiations had been interrupted by his illness and loss of

sight, and he did not at all know whether he should ever be in a position

to carry them through.[548] The real motive, however, was nothing but

fear of the Inquisition,[549] and as the sequel showed, he was quite

right. Fanano sent a report on 25th July of all these circumstances

to Cardinal Barberini at Rome. It is so characteristic that we cannot

refrain from giving it:—

“The person who was to come to see Galileo has neither appeared

in Florence, nor is likely to appear, so far as I am informed;

but I have not yet been able to learn whether in consequence

of some hindrance on the journey or from some other cause. I

know, however, that presents for Galileo and a letter to him

have come to some merchants here. A highly estimable person,

who is in my confidence, and has spoken with the person who

has the presents and letter in charge, told me that both bear

the seal of the Dutch Government; the presents are in a case,

and may be gold or silver work. Galileo has steadily refused

to accept either the letter or the presents, whether from fear

of incurring some danger, on account of the warning I gave

him on the first news of the expected arrival of an envoy,

or whether because he really could not perfect his method of

taking longitudes at sea, and is not in a state to do it; for

he is now quite blind, and his head is more in the grave than

fit for mathematical studies. Insurmountable difficulties had

also occurred in the use of the instruments indicated by him.

Besides, it is said here, that if he had fully brought his plan

to perfection, his Highness (Ferdinand II. of Tuscany) would

never have permitted it to pass into the hands of renegades,

heretics, or enemies of the allies of his house. This is what I

have to report to your Eminence.”[550]

The news that Galileo had not accepted the distinction offered him by

the Dutch Government gave great satisfaction at Rome; and Urban VIII.

even charged the Inquisitor at Florence, by a mandate of 5th August, to

express to Galileo the gratification of the Holy Congregation at his

conduct in this affair.[551]

About this time he was sunk so low, physically as well as mentally,

that he and every one thought his dissolution was at hand. In a letter

to Diodati of 7th August, in which he told him of his interview with

the German merchants at Florence, he expressed the fear that “if his

sufferings increased as they had done during the last three or four days,

he would not even be able to dictate letters.”[552] He added, perhaps in

reference to the Inquisitor’s intimation of 13th July: “It would be a

fruitless undertaking if Signor Hortensius were to take the trouble to

come and see me, for if he found me living (which I do not believe), I

should be quite unable to give him the least satisfaction.”

His profound vexation about the regulations imposed upon him in this

matter by the Roman curia is very evident in a letter to Diodati of 14th

August. He writes:—

“As ill luck would have it, the Holy Office came to know of

the negotiations I was carrying on about the geographical

longitude with the States-General, which may do me the

greatest injury. I am extremely obliged to you for having

induced Signor Hortensius to give up his intended journey, and

thereby averted some calamity from me which would probably

have been in store for me if he had come. It is indeed true

that these negotiations ought not to do me any harm, for the

just and obvious reasons that you mention, but rather to bring

me fame and honour, if my circumstances were but like those

of other men, that is, if I were not pursued by misfortune

more than others. But having been often and often convinced by

experience of the tricks fate plays me, I can but expect from

its obstinate perfidy, that what would be an advantage to any

one else will never bring anything but harm to me. But even in

this bitter adversity I do not lose my peace of mind, for it

would be but idle audacity to oppose inexorable destiny.”[553]

Galileo, who thought his hours were numbered, dictated his will on 21st

August, in the presence of a notary and witnesses, and directed that he

should be buried in the family vault of the Galilei in the Church of

Santa Croce at Florence.[554] On 8th September the Grand Duke paid the

dying astronomer, as was supposed, a visit of two hours, and himself

handed him his medicine.[555]

It had been for a long time a cherished wish of Galileo’s to have with

him during the evening of his days his most devoted and favourite

disciple, Father Castelli.[556] But the professorship which he held at

Rome made the attainment of this wish difficult. As it was now supposed

that a speedy death would deprive the world of the great philosopher,

the Grand Duke requested through Niccolini at Rome that Castelli might

come to Florence, for a few months at least, that he might yet receive

from the lips of his dying master many ideas of importance for science,

which he might not perhaps confide to any but his trusted friend.[557]

After some difficulties were surmounted, he actually received the papal

consent, but only on condition that a third person should always be

present during the conversations with Galileo.[558] Early in October

Castelli arrived in Florence, where the Inquisitor-General, as charged by

the Holy Office, gave him permission to visit Galileo, with the express

prohibition, _under pain of excommunication, to converse with him on the

condemned doctrine of the earth’s double motion_.[559] The permission,

however, to visit Galileo seems to have been very limited, for Castelli

repeatedly wrote to Cardinal Francesco Barberini, with the most urgent

entreaties to obtain an extension of it for him from the Pope. Castelli

protests in this letter that he would rather lose his life than converse

with Galileo on subjects forbidden by the Church. He gives as a reason

for the need of more frequent interviews that he had received from

the Grand Duke the twofold charge to minister to Galileo in spiritual

matters, and to inform himself fully about the tables and ephemerides of

the Medicean stars, because the Prince Giovanni Carlo, Lord High Admiral,

was to take this discovery to Spain.[560] The cardinal replied that in

consideration of these circumstances, Urban VIII. granted permission for

more frequent visits to Galileo, under the known conditions;[561] but the

official permission, was not issued until about November.[562] Nothing is

known in history, however, of the Lord High Admiral’s having ever taken

Galileo’s method of taking longitudes to the Peninsula.

During the same year (1638), the Elzevirs at Leyden issued Galileo’s

famous work: “Discourses on and Demonstrations of Two New Sciences

appertaining to Mechanics and Motion.”[563] This work, known under the

abridged title, “Dialoghi delle Nuove Scienze,” was dedicated to the

Count de Noailles, in grateful remembrance of the warm interest which he

had always shown in the author.[564] It is the most copious and best of

all Galileo’s writings, and he himself valued it more highly than any of

the others.[565] In it he created the new sciences of the doctrine of

cohesion in stationary bodies, and their resistance when torn asunder;

also that of phoronomics, and thereby opened up new paths in a field

of science that had been lying fallow. He must, indeed, be regarded as

the real founder of mechanical physics. It is not our province to enter

farther into the contents of this work, or its importance for science.

It has, however, some significance in our historical review of Galileo’s

relations with the curia, for it excited immense attention in all learned

circles, and increasingly attracted the notice of the scientific world

to the prisoner of the Inquisition. This was by no means agreeable to

the Romanists, who would have been glad to see him sink into oblivion.

Galileo now again received communications from all countries, some of

them expressing the highest admiration of his new work, and others asking

more information on many of the theories expounded. And we now behold

the shattered old man of seventy-four, only partially recovered from his

severe illness, carrying on an extensive correspondence full of the most

abstruse problems in physics and mathematics.[566]

In January, 1639, as his health had so far improved as to allow the hope

to be indulged that he might be spared some time longer, he returned

to his villa at Arcetri, not to leave it again alive. Was this move a

voluntary one? We have no document which finally settles the question.

But we hold ourselves justified in doubting it. Not only because it is

difficult to reconcile a voluntary return to Arcetri with his previous

efforts to obtain permission to reside in Florence, but there is a later

letter from him bearing the expressive date: “From the Villa Arcetri,

my perpetual prison and place of exile from the city.”[567] And when

the wife of Buonamici, who was distinguished for her mental powers,

gave him a pressing invitation to Prato, which is only four miles from

Florence, he reminds her in his reply of 6th April, 1641, that “he was

still a prisoner here for reasons which her husband was well aware of”;

he then presses her to visit him at Arcetri, adding: “Do not make any

excuses, nor fear that any unpleasantness may accrue to me from it, for

I do not trouble myself much how this interview may be judged by certain

persons, as I am accustomed to bearing many heavy burdens as if they were

quite light.”[568] From such utterances it is clear that Galileo had

little pleasure in residing at Arcetri, and that therefore his second

banishment from Florence was not voluntary, but was the result of a papal

order.[569]

CHAPTER III.

_LAST YEARS AND DEATH._

Refusal of some Favour asked by Galileo.—His pious

Resignation.—Continues his scientific Researches.—His

pupil Viviani.—Failure of attempt to renew Negotiations

about Longitudes.—Reply to Liceti and Correspondence with

him.—Last Discussion of the Copernican System in reply to

Rinuccini.—Sketch of its Contents.—Pendulum Clocks.—Priority

of the discovery belongs to Galileo.—Visit from

Castelli.—Torricelli joins Viviani.—Scientific discourse on his

Deathbed.—Death, 8th Jan., 1642.—Proposal to deny him Christian

Burial.—Monument objected to by Urban VIII.—Ferdinand II. fears

to offend him.—Buried quietly.—No Inscription till thirty-two

years later.—First Public Monument erected by Viviani in

1693.—Viviani directs his Heirs to erect one in Santa

Croce.—Erected in 1738.—Rome unable to put down Copernican

System.—In 1757 Benedict XIV. permits the Clause in Decree

forbidding Books which teach the new System to be expunged.—In

1820 permission given to treat of it as true.—Galileo’s Work

and others not expunged from the Index till 1835.

We now come to the last three years of Galileo’s life.

From two documents published by Professor Gherardi,[570] we learn that

in 1639 Galileo once more asked at Rome for some favours not specified,

but that they were absolutely refused by the Pope. From this time Galileo

came no further into direct contact with the Roman curia. He had been

compelled to give up all hope of any amelioration of his lot from the

implacable Urban VIII. So he ended his days quietly and resigned, as the

prisoner of the Inquisition, in his villa at Arcetri. Castelli also, who

(as his letters to Galileo of 1639 bear witness)[571] had warmly exerted

himself on his behalf with Cardinal Barberini and other influential

persons, had probably come to the conclusion that nothing more could

be done for his unfortunate friend, for from this time we find nothing

in his letters to Galileo but scientific disquisitions and spiritual

consolations.[572]

This indicates the two interests which occupied the latest period

of Galileo’s life—deep piety and scientific meditations. His utter

hopelessness and pious resignation are very clearly expressed in the

brief sentence he used often to write to Castelli: “Piace cosi a Dio,

dere piacere cosi ancora a Noi.”[573] (If it please God, it ought also to

please us.) He never omitted in any letter to his old friend and pupil to

commend himself in conclusion to his prayers,[574] and in his letter of

3rd December, 1639, he added: “I remind you to persevere in your prayers

to the all-merciful and loving God, that He will cast out the bitter

hatred from the hearts of my malicious and unhappy persecutors.”

The lofty genius with which nature had endowed Galileo never displayed

itself in so striking and surprising a manner as during these last three

years. No sooner were his physical sufferings in some measure relieved,

than he occupied himself in scientific speculations, the results of which

he partly communicated to his great pupil and subsequent biographer,

Viviani, by word of mouth, and partly dictated them to some of those

about him. The society of young Viviani, then eighteen years of age, who,

by permission of the Inquisition, spent the last two years and a half of

the old master’s life near him,[575] was the greatest comfort to him,

and he conceived a fatherly affection for the talented youth. We owe it

partly to the assistance and stimulus given by Viviani that the aged

Galileo worked on to the end in improving and enlarging his “Dialoghi

delle Nuove Scienze,” made a number of additions, and added new evidence

of great importance to science in two supplementary dialogues.[576]

During this last period of his life also, he again took up the

negotiations with the States-General, broken off by his severe illness

in 1638. After he became blind he had given up all his writings,

calculations, and astronomical tables relating to the Medicean stars, to

his old pupil, Father Vincenzo Renieri, in order that he might carry them

further; he was well adapted for the task, and executed it with equal

skill and zeal.[577] The new ephemerides were just about to be sent to

Hortensius, when Diodati informed Galileo of his sudden death in a letter

of 28th October, 1639.[578] The three other commissioners charged by

the States-General with the investigation of Galileo’s proposal having

also died one after another, in quick succession, it was difficult to

resume the negotiations. The interest of the Netherlanders in Galileo’s

scheme (perhaps from its acknowledged imperfection) had also evidently

cooled, and his proposal to replace the commissioners was not carried

out, although he offered to send Renieri to Holland to give all needful

explanations by word of mouth. Galileo’s death then put an end to these

fruitless negotiations.[579]

At the beginning of 1640 Fortunio Liceti, a former pupil of Galileo’s,

published a book on the phosphorescent Bolognian stone. In the fiftieth

chapter of this work he treats of the faint light of the side of the moon

not directly illuminated by the sun, and rejects the view advocated

by Galileo in his “Sidereus Nuntius,” that it arises from a reflection

of the sun’s rays striking our earth, which the earth reflects to our

satellite, who again reflects them to us. Galileo was undecided whether

it were not best to take no notice of Liceti’s objections, the scientific

value of which he did not estimate very highly, when a letter from Prince

Leopold de’ Medici, brother of the reigning Grand Duke, relieved him of

his doubts.[580] This prince, who has gained a permanent name in the

history of science by founding the celebrated “Accadémia del Cimento,”

invited Galileo to give him his views on Liceti’s objections.[581] This

challenge sufficed to rouse all the blind old man’s dialectic skill,

though he was then seventy-six and bowed down by mental and bodily

sufferings. He dictated a reply, in the form of a letter to Prince

Leopold, which occupies fifty large pages in the extant edition of his

“Opere,” and in fire, spirit, mastery of language, and crushing argument,

it is quite a match for the most famous controversial works of his

manhood.[582]

A most interesting direct correspondence then ensued between Galileo

and Liceti, which was carried on from June, 1640, to January, 1641, in

which not this question only was discussed, but Galileo took occasion

to express his opinions, with great spirit and learning, on the modern

Peripatetic school and philosophy, on Aristotle himself, and his

fanatical followers. These letters of the venerable hero of science are

characterised by ostensible politeness pervaded by cutting irony, which

makes them instructive and stimulating reading.[583]

Ten months before his death, thanks to an indiscreet question from one

of his former pupils, a last opportunity occurred of speaking of the

Copernican system. Francesco Rinuccini, Tuscan resident at Venice, and

afterwards Bishop of Pistoja, having apparently forgotten that the master

had solemnly abjured that opinion, and had even been compelled to promise

to denounce its adherents wherever he met with them to the Inquisition,

informed him in a letter of 23rd March, 1641,[584] that the mathematician

Pieroni asserted that he had discovered by means of the telescope a small

parallax of a few seconds in some of the fixed stars, which would place

the correctness of the Copernican system beyond all question. Rinuccini

then goes on to say, in the same breath, that he had lately seen the

manuscript of a book about to appear, which contained an objection to

the new doctrine, and made it appear very doubtful. It was this: because

we see exactly one half of the firmament, it follows inevitably that the

earth is the centre of the starry heavens. Rinuccini begs Galileo to

clear up these doubts for him, and to help him to a more certain opinion.

This was the impulse to Galileo’s letter of 29th March, 1641,[585] which,

as Alfred Von Reumont truly says,[586] whether jest or mask, had better

never have been written. There is no doubt that it must not be taken in

its literal sense. Precisely the same tactics are followed as in the

letter which accompanied the “Treatise on the Tides,” to the Grand Duke

of Austria in 1618, and in many passages of the “Dialogues on the Two

Systems.” Galileo conceals his real opinions behind a thick veil, through

which the truth is only penetrable by the initiated. The cautious course

he pursued in this perilous answer to Rinuccini is as clever as it is

ingenious, and appears appropriate to his circumstances; but it does

not produce a pleasant impression, and for the sake of the great man’s

memory, one would prefer to leave the subject untouched.

We will now examine this interesting letter more closely. When we call

to mind the disquisitions on the relation of Scripture to science, which

Galileo wrote to Castelli in 1613, and to the Grand Duchess Christine

in 1615, the very beginning is a misrepresentation only excusable on

the ground of urgent necessity. He says: “The incorrectness of the

Copernican system should not in any case be doubted, especially by us

Catholics, for the inviolable authority of Holy Scripture is opposed

to it, as interpreted by the greatest teachers of theology, whose

unanimous declaration makes the stability of the earth in the centre,

and the revolution of the sun round it, a certainty. The grounds on

which Copernicus and his followers have maintained the contrary fall to

pieces before the fundamental argument of the Divine omnipotence. For

since this is able to effect by many, aye, endless means, what, so far

as we can see, only appears practicable by one method, we must not limit

the hand of God and persist obstinately in anything in which we may

have been mistaken.[587] And as I hold the Copernican observations and

conclusions to be insufficient, those of Ptolemy, Aristotle, and their

followers appear to me _far more delusive and mistaken, because their

falsity can clearly be proved without going beyond the limits of human

knowledge_.”[588]

After this introduction Galileo proceeds to answer Rinuccini’s question.

He treats that argument against the Copernican system as delusive, and

says that it originates in the assumption that the earth stands still

in the centre, and by no means from precise astronomical observation.

_He refutes, therefore, the scientific objection to the new doctrine._

Speaking of the assumed discovery of Pieroni, he says, that if it should

be confirmed, however small the parallax may be, _human science must

draw the conclusion from it that the earth cannot be stationary in the

centre_. But in order to weaken this dangerous sentence, he hastens to

add, that if Pieroni might be mistaken in thinking that he had discovered

such a parallax of a few seconds, those might be still more mistaken who

think they can observe that the visible hemisphere never varies, not

even one or two seconds; for such an exact and certain observation is

utterly impossible, partly from the insufficiency of the astronomical

instruments, and partly from the refraction of the rays of light.

As will be seen, Galileo takes great care to show the futility of the

new arguments brought into the field against the Copernican system.

It therefore seems very strange that some writers, and among them the

well-known Italian historian, Cesare Cantu, suppose from this letter that

at the close of his life Galileo had really renounced the prohibited

doctrine from profound conviction![589] The introduction, and many

passages thrown in in this cautious refutation, must, as Albèri and

Henri Martin justly observe, be regarded as fiction, the author having

the Inquisition in view; it had recently given a striking proof of its

watchfulness by forbidding the author of a book called “De Pitagorea

animarum transmigratione,” to apply the epithet “clarissimus” to

Galileo, and it had only with great difficulty been persuaded to permit

“notissimus Galileus”![590]

A short time before the close of Galileo’s brilliant scientific career,

in spite of age, blindness, and sickness, he once more gave striking

evidence of the genius which could only be quenched by death. It will

be remembered that the inadequacy of his proposed chronometer had been

the chief obstacle to the acceptance by the States-General of his method

of taking longitudes at sea. Now, in the second half of the year 1641,

it occurred to him, as is confirmed beyond question by Viviani, who

was present,[591] though the idea is generally ascribed to Christian

Huyghens, of adding a pendulum to the then very imperfect clocks, as

regulator of their motion. As this was sixteen years before Huyghens made

known his invention of pendulum clocks, priority indisputably belongs to

Galileo. But it was only permitted to the blind master to conceive the

great idea—he was not to carry it out. It was his intention to employ the

eyes and hands of his son Vincenzo, a very clever mechanician, to put

his idea in practice, and he told him of his plan. Vincenzo was to make

the necessary drawings according to his father’s instructions, and to

construct models accordingly. But in the midst of these labours Galileo

fell ill, and this time he did not recover.[592] His faithful pupil,

Castelli, who probably foresaw the speedy dissolution of the revered old

man, came to see him about the end of September, 1641. In October, on the

repeated and urgent invitation of Galileo, Torricelli joined Castelli

and Viviani, not to leave the Villa Arcetri until they left it with

Galileo’s coffin. Torricelli was then thirty-three, and the old master

had discerned his eminent talents from a treatise on the theory of motion

which he had sent him.[593] Castelli was not permitted to stay till the

close. At the beginning of November he had to return to Rome, leaving

Galileo, Torricelli, and Viviani eagerly occupied with the completion of

the “Dialoghi delle Nuove Scienze.”

On 5th November Galileo was attacked by an insidious hectic fever, which

slowly but surely brought him to the grave.[594] Violent pains in his

limbs threw him on a sick bed, from which he did not rise again. In spite

of all these sufferings, which were augmented by constant palpitation

of the heart and almost entire sleeplessness, his active mind scarcely

rested for a moment, and he spent the long hours of perpetual darkness

in constant scientific conversation and discussions with Torricelli and

Viviani, who noted down the last utterances of the dying man with pious

care. As they chiefly related to the “Dialoghi delle Nuove Scienze,” they

are to be found in the two supplementary Dialogues added to that work.

On 8th January, 1642, the year of Newton’s birth, having received the

last sacraments and the benediction of Urban VIII., Galileo breathed his

last, at the age of nearly seventy-eight years. His son Vincenzo, his

daughter-in-law Sestilia Bocchineri, his pupils Torricelli and Viviani,

and the parish priest, were around his bed.[595] And when Vincenzo closed

his father’s sightless eyes for their last long sleep, they gave not a

thought at Rome to the severe loss sustained by science by Galileo’s

death, but only prepared in hot haste to guard the interests of the

Church, and as far as it lay in their power, to persecute the Cæsar of

science even beyond the grave. The aim was now, as far as possible, to

extinguish his memory, with which so many perils for Rome were bound up.

Even around his bier the struggle began. Some pettifogging theologians

went so far as to wish that Christian burial should be denied him, and

that his will should be declared null and void, for a man condemned

on suspicion of heresy, and who had died as a prisoner of the

Inquisition, had no claim to rest in consecrated ground, nor could he

possess testamentary rights. A long consultation of the ecclesiastical

authorities in Florence, and two circumstantial opinions from them were

required to put these fanatics to silence.

Immediately after Galileo’s death his numerous pupils and admirers made a

collection for a handsome monument to the famous Tuscan. The Inquisitor,

Fanano, at once sent word of this to Rome, and received a reply by order

of the Pope, dated 23rd January, that he was to bring it in some way to

the ears of the Grand Duke that it was not at all suitable to erect a

monument to Galileo, who was sentenced to do penance by the tribunal of

the Holy Office and had died during that sentence; good Catholics would

be scandalised, and the reputation of the Grand Duke for piety might

suffer. But if this did not take effect, the Inquisitor must see that

there was nothing in the inscription insulting to the reputation of the

holy tribunal, and exercise the same care about the funeral sermon.[596]

Besides this, Urban VIII. seized the next opportunity of giving the

Tuscan ambassador to understand that “it would be a bad example for the

world if his Highness permitted such a thing, since Galileo had been

arraigned before the Holy Office for such false and erroneous opinions,

had also given much trouble about them at Florence, and had altogether

given rise to the greatest scandal throughout Christendom by this

condemned doctrine.”[597] In the despatch in which Niccolini reported

these remarks of the Pope to his Government, he advised that the matter

be postponed, and reminded them that the Pope had had the body of the

Duchess Matilda, of Mantua, removed from the Carthusian convent there,

and buried at St. Peter’s at Rome, without saying a word to the Duke

about it beforehand, excusing himself afterwards by saying that all

churches were papal property, and therefore all the bodies buried in them

belonged to the clergy! If, therefore, they did not wish to incur the

danger of perhaps seeing Galileo’s bones dragged away from Florence, all

idea must be given up for the present of suitably celebrating his memory.

Niccolini received an official reply that there had been a talk of

erecting a monument to Galileo, but that his Highness had not come to any

decision, and proper regard would certainly be paid to the hints received

from the Pope.[598] The weak Ferdinand II. did not venture to act in the

least against the heartless Pope’s wishes. Even Galileo’s desire in his

will to be buried in the vault of his ancestors in the Church of Santa

Croce, at Florence, was not respected. His mortal remains were placed in

a little obscure room, in a side chapel belonging to the Church, called

“the Chapel of the Novitiate.” He was buried according to the desire of

Urban VIII., very quietly, without any pomp. No monument nor inscription

marked his resting place; but though Rome did all she could to obliterate

the memory of the famous philosopher, she could not effect that the

immortal name of Galileo Galilei should be buried in the grave with his

lifeless remains.

It was not till thirty-two years later, when Urban VIII. had long been in

his grave, and more lenient views were entertained about Galileo at the

Vatican, that Fra Gabriel Pierozzi, Rector of the Novices of the Convent

of Santa Croce, ventured to adorn Galileo’s grave with a long bombastic

inscription.[599] In 1693 Viviani, whose greatest pride it was to sign

himself “Discépolo ultimo di Galileo,” erected the first public monument

to his immortal master. The front of his handsome house in the Via San

Antonio was made to serve for it, for he placed the bronze bust of

Galileo, after the model of the famous sculptor, Giovanni Caccini, over

the door. A long eulogy on Galileo was engraved over and on both sides of

it.[600]

But Viviani was not content with thus piously honouring the memory of the

master; in his last will he enjoined on his heirs to erect a splendid

monument to him, which was to cost about 4000 scudi, in the Church of

Santa Croce.[601] Decades, however, passed after Viviani’s death before

his heirs thought of fulfilling his wishes. At length, in 1734, the

preliminary steps were taken by an inquiry from the Convent of Santa

Croce, whether any decree of the Holy Congregation existed which would

forbid the erection of such a monument in the Church? The Inquisitor at

Florence immediately inquired of the Holy Office at Rome whether it would

be permitted thus to honour a man “who had been condemned for notorious

errors.”[602] The opinion of the counsellors of the Holy Office was

taken. They said that there was nothing to prevent the erection of the

monument, provided the intended inscription were submitted to the Holy

Congregation, that they might give such orders about it as they thought

proper.[603] This opinion was confirmed by the Congregation of the Holy

Office on 16th June, 1734.[604] And so the pompous monument to Galileo,

which displayed the tastelessness of the age, and was not completed till

four years later, could be raised in the Church of Santa Croce, this

pantheon of the Florentines, where they bury their famous dead, and of

which Byron finely sings in “Childe Harold”:—

“In Santa Croce’s holy precincts lie

Ashes which make it holier, dust which is

Even in itself an immortality,

Though there were nothing save the past, and this,

The particle of those sublimities

Which have relapsed to chaos:—here repose

Angelo’s, Alfieri’s bones, and his,

The starry Galileo, with his woes;

Here Machiavelli’s earth returned to whence it rose.”[605]

On 12th March, 1737, Galileo’s remains were removed, in presence of all

the professors of the University of Florence, and many of the learned

men of Italy, with great solemnity and ecclesiastical pomp, from their

modest resting-place to the new mausoleum in a more worthy place in the

Church of Santa Croce itself, and united with those of his last pupil,

Viviani.[606]

It had long been perceived at Rome that, in spite of every effort,

it was vain to try to bury the Copernican system with Galileo in the

grave. It could no longer greatly concern the Roman curia that Galileo’s

memory was held in high honour, when the cause for which he suffered had

decidedly gained the victory. It was by a singular freak of nature that

in the very same year which closed the career of this great observer of

her laws, another who was to complete the work begun by Copernicus and

carried on by Galileo, entered upon his. He it is, as we all know, who

gave to science those eternal forms now recognised as firmly established,

and whose genius, by the discovery of the law of gravitation, crowned

the edifice of which Copernicus laid the foundations and which Galileo

upreared. During the lifetime of the latter, and the period immediately

succeeding his death, the truth of the system of the earth’s double

motion was recognised by numerous learned men; and in 1696, when

Newton published his immortal work, “Philosophiæ naturalis principia

Mathematica,” it became thoroughly established. All the scientific world

who pursued the paths of free investigation accepted the Copernican

system, and only a few ossified devotees of the old school, in common

with some theological philosophers, still raised impotent objections to

it, which have been continued even up to this day by some wrong-headed

people.[607]

At Rome they only accommodated themselves to the new system slowly and

reluctantly. In 1757, when it was no longer doubted by any one but a few

fanatics, the Congregation of the Index thought the time was come for

proposing to Pope Benedict XIV. to expunge the clause from the decree

of 5th March, 1616, prohibiting all books which teach that the sun is

stationary and the earth revolves. This enlightened pontiff, known as

a patron of the arts and sciences, entirely agreed, and signified his

consent on 11th May, 1757.[608] But there still remained on the Index

the work of Copernicus, “De Revolutionibus Orbium Cœlestium,” Diego di

Zuñiga’s “Commentary on the Book of Job” (these two works, however, only

“donec corrigantur,” but this was quite worthless for strict Catholics as

far as the work of Copernicus was concerned, as since the announcement of

these “corrections” by the decree of 15th May, 1620, no new edition had

appeared), Foscarini’s “Léttera sópra l’opinione de i Pittagorici e del

Copernico della mobilità della Terra et stabilità del Sole, e il nuove

Pittagorico Sistéma del Mondo,” Kepler’s “Epitome astronomiæ Copernicæ,”

and finally, Galileo’s “Dialogo sopra i due Massimi Sistémi del Mondo.”

This last work had indeed been allowed to appear in the edition of

Galileo’s collected works,[609] undertaken at Padua in 1744, which had

received the prescribed ecclesiastical permission; but the editor, the

Abbot Toaldo, had been obliged expressly to state in an introduction

that the theory of the double motion can and must be regarded only as a

mathematical hypothesis, to facilitate the explanation of certain natural

phenomena. Besides this, the “Dialogues on the Two Principal Systems” had

to be preceded by the sentence on and recantation of Galileo, as well as

by an Essay “On the System of the Universe of the Ancient Hebrews,” by

Calmet, in which the passages of Scripture bearing on the order of the

world were interpreted in the traditional Catholic fashion.[610]

The celebrated French astronomer Lalande, as he himself relates,[611]

tried in vain when at Rome, in 1765, to get Galileo’s works expunged from

the Index. The Cardinal Prefect of the Congregation of the Index objected

that there was a sentence of the Congregation of the Holy Office in

existence which must first be cancelled, but this was not done, and all

remained as before; and even in the edition of the Index of 1819, strange

to say, the five works mentioned above were to be found as repudiated by

the Roman curia!