Publication of Galileo's 'System of the World'—His Condemnation and Abjuration.

In the year 1630, Galileo brought to its conclusion his great work, "The Dialogue on the Ptolemaic and Copernican Systems," and began to take the necessary steps for procuring permission to print it. This was to be obtained in the first instance from an officer at Rome, entitled the master of the sacred palace; and after a little negotiation Galileo found it would be necessary for him again to return thither, as his enemies were still busy in thwarting his views and wishes. Niccolo Riccardi, who at that time filled the office of master of the palace, had been a pupil of Galileo, and was well disposed to facilitate his plans; he pointed out, however, some expressions in the work which he thought it necessary to erase, and, with the understanding that this should be done, he returned the manuscript to Galileo with his subscribed approbation. The unhealthy season was drawing near, and Galileo, unwilling to face it, returned home, where he intended to complete the index and dedication, and then to send it back to Rome to be printed in that city, under the superintendence of Federigo Cesi. This plan was disconcerted by the premature death of that accomplished nobleman, in August 1630, in whom Galileo lost one of his steadiest and most effective friends and protectors. This unfortunate event determined Galileo to attempt to procure permission to print his book at Florence. A contagious disorder had broken out in Tuscany with such severity as almost to interrupt all communication between Florence and Rome, and this was urged by Galileo as an additional reason for granting his request. Riccardi at first seemed inclined to insist that the book should be sent to him a second time, but at last contented himself with inspecting the commencement and conclusion, and consented that (on its receiving also a license from the inquisitor-general at Florence, and from one or two others whose names appear on the title-page) it might be printed where Galileo wished.

These protracted negotiations prevented the publication of the work till late in 1632; it then appeared, with a dedication to Ferdinand, under the following title:—"A Dialogue, by Galileo Galilei, Extraordinary Mathematician of the University of Pisa, and Principal Philosopher and Mathematician of the Most Serene Grand Duke of Tuscany; in which, in a conversation of four days, are discussed the two principal Systems of the World, the Ptolemaic and Copernican, indeterminately proposing the Philosophical Arguments as well on one side as on the other." The beginning of the introduction, which is addressed "To the discreet Reader," is much too characteristic to be passed by without notice.—"Some years ago, a salutary edict was promulgated at Rome, which, in order to obviate the perilous scandals of the present age, enjoined an opportune silence on the Pythagorean opinion of the earth's motion. Some were not wanting, who rashly asserted that this decree originated, not in a judicious examination, but in ill informed passion; and complaints were heard that counsellors totally inexperienced in astronomical observations ought not by hasty prohibitions to clip the wings of speculative minds. My zeal could not keep silence when I heard these rash lamentations, and I thought it proper, as being fully informed with regard to that most prudent determination, to appear publicly on the theatre of the world as a witness of the actual truth. I happened at that time to be in Rome: I was admitted to the audiences, and enjoyed the approbation of the most eminent prelates of that court, nor did the publication of that decree occur without my receiving some prior intimation of it.[79] Wherefore it is my intention in this present work, to show to foreign nations that as much is known of this matter in Italy, and particularly in Rome, as ultramontane diligence can ever have formed any notion of, and collecting together all my own speculations on the Copernican system, to give them to understand that the knowledge of all these preceded the Roman censures, and that from this country proceed not only dogmas for the salvation of the soul, but also ingenious discoveries for the gratification of the understanding. With this object, I have taken up in the Dialogue the Copernican side of the question, treating it as a pure mathematical hypothesis; and endeavouring in every artificial manner to represent it as having the advantage, not over the opinion of the stability of the earth absolutely, but according to the manner in which that opinion is defended by some, who indeed profess to be Peripatetics, but retain only the name, and are contented without improvement to worship shadows, not philosophizing with their own reason, but only from the recollection of four principles imperfectly understood."—This very flimsy veil could scarcely blind any one as to Galileo's real views in composing this work, nor does it seem probable that he framed it with any expectation of appearing neutral in the discussion. It is more likely that he flattered himself that, under the new government at Rome, he was not likely to be molested on account of the personal prohibition which he had received in 1616, "not to believe or teach the motion of the earth in any manner," provided he kept himself within the letter of the limits of the more public and general order, that the Copernican system was not to be brought forward otherwise than as a mere mathematically convenient, but in fact unreal supposition. So long as this decree remained in force, a due regard to consistency would compel the Roman Inquisitors to notice an unequivocal violation of it; and this is probably what Urban had implied in the remark quoted by Hohenzoller to Galileo.[80] There were not wanting circumstances which might compensate for the loss of Cosmo and of Federigo Cesi; Cosmo had been succeeded by his son, who, though he had not yet attained his father's energy, showed himself as friendly as possible to Galileo. Cardinal Bellarmine, who had been mainly instrumental in procuring the decree of 1616, was dead; Urban on the contrary, who had been among the few Cardinals who then opposed it as uncalled for and ill-advised, was now possessed of supreme power, and his recent affability seemed to prove that the increased difference in their stations had not caused him to forget their early and long-continued intimacy. It is probable that Galileo would not have found himself mistaken in this estimate of his position, but for an unlucky circumstance, of which his enemies immediately saw the importance, and which they were not slow in making available against him. The dialogue of Galileo's work is conducted between three personages;—Salviati and Sagredo, who were two noblemen, friends of Galileo, and Simplicio, a name borrowed from a noted commentator upon Aristotle, who wrote in the sixth century. Salviati is the principal philosopher of the work; it is to him that the others apply for solutions of their doubts and difficulties, and on him the principal task falls of explaining the tenets of the Copernican theory. Sagredo is only a half convert, but an acute and ingenious one; to him are allotted the objections which seem to have some real difficulty in them, as well as lively illustrations and digressions, which might have been thought inconsistent with the gravity of Salviati's character. Simplicio, though candid and modest, is of course a confirmed Ptolemaist and Aristotelian, and is made to produce successively all the popular arguments of that school in support of his master's system. Placed between the wit and the philosopher, it may be guessed that his success is very indifferent, and in fact he is alternately ridiculed and confuted at every turn. As Galileo racked his memory and invention to leave unanswered no argument which was or could be advanced against Copernicus, it unfortunately happened, that he introduced some which Urban himself had urged upon him in their former controversies on this subject; and Galileo's opponents found means to make His Holiness believe that the character of Simplicio had been sketched in personal derision of him. We do not think it necessary to exonerate Galileo from this charge; the obvious folly of such an useless piece of ingratitude speaks sufficiently for itself. But self-love is easily irritated; and Urban, who aspired to a reputation for literature and science, was peculiarly sensitive on this point. His own expressions almost prove his belief that such had been Galileo's design, and it seems to explain the otherwise inexplicable change which took place in his conduct towards his old friend, on account of a book which he had himself undertaken to examine, and of which he had authorised the publication.

One of the earliest notices of what was approaching, is found in the dispatches, dated August 24, 1632, from Ferdinand's minister, Andrea Cioli, to Francesco Nicolini, the Tuscan ambassador at the court of Rome.

"I have orders to signify to Your Excellency that His Highness remains greatly astonished that a book, placed by the author himself in the hands of the supreme authority in Rome, read and read again there most attentively, and in which every thing, not only with the consent, but at the request of the author, was amended, altered, added, or removed at the will of his superiors, which was again subjected here to the same examination, agreeably to orders from Rome, and which finally was licensed both there and here, and here printed and published, should now become an object of suspicion at the end of two years, and the author and printer be prohibited from publishing any more."—In the sequel is intimated Ferdinand's desire that the charges, of whatever nature they might be, either against Galileo or his book, might be reduced to writing and forwarded to Florence, that he might prepare for his justification; but this reasonable demand was utterly disregarded. It appears to have been owing to the mean subserviency of Cioli to the court of Rome, that Ferdinand refrained from interfering more strenuously to protect Galileo. Cioli's words are: "The Grand Duke is so enraged with this business of Galileo, that I do not know what will be done. I know, at least, that His Holiness shall have no reason to complain of his ministers, or of their bad advice."[81]

A letter from Galileo's Venetian friend Micanzio, dated about a month later, is in rather a bolder and less formal style:—"The efforts of your enemies to get your book prohibited will occasion no loss either to your reputation, or to the intelligent part of the world. As to posterity, this is just one of the surest ways to hand the book down to them. But what a wretched set this must be to whom every good thing, and all that is founded in nature, necessarily appears hostile and odious! The world is not restricted to a single corner; you will see the book printed in more places and languages than one; and just for this reason, I wish they would prohibit all good books. My disgust arises from seeing myself deprived of what I most desire of this sort, I mean your other dialogues; and if, from this cause, I fail in having the pleasure of seeing them, I shall devote to a hundred thousand devils these unnatural and godless hypocrites."

At the same time, Thomas Campanella, a monk, who had already distinguished himself by an apology for Galileo (published in 1622), wrote to him from Rome:—"I learn with the greatest disgust, that a congregation of angry theologians is forming to condemn your Dialogues, and that no single member of it has any knowledge of mathematics, or familiarity with abstruse speculations. I should advise you to procure a request from the Grand Duke that, among the Dominicans and Jesuits and Theatins, and secular priests whom they are putting on this congregation against your book, they should admit also Castelli and myself." It appears, from subsequent letters both from Campanella and Castelli, that the required letter was procured and sent to Rome, but it was not thought prudent to irritate the opposite party by a request which it was then clearly seen would have been made in vain. Not only were these friends of Galileo not admitted to the congregation, but, upon some pretext, Castelli was even sent away from Rome, as if Galileo's enemies desired to have as few enlightened witnesses as possible of their proceedings; and on the contrary, Scipio Chiaramonte, who had been long known for one of the staunchest and most bigoted defenders of the old system, and who, as Montucla says, seems to have spent a long life in nothing but retarding, as far as he was able, the progress of discovery, was summoned from Pisa to complete their number. From this period we have a tolerably continuous account of the proceedings against Galileo in the dispatches which Nicolini sent regularly to his court. It appears from them that Nicolini had several interviews with the Pope, whom he found highly incensed against Galileo, and in one of the earliest he received an intimation to advise the Duke "not to engage himself in this matter as he had done in the other business of Alidosi,[82] because he would not get through it with honour." Finding Urban in this humour, Nicolini thought it best to temporize, and to avoid the appearance of any thing like direct opposition. On the 15th of September, probably as soon as the first report on Galileo's book had been made, Nicolini received a private notice from the Pope, "in especial token of the esteem in which he held the Grand Duke," that he was unable to do less than consign the work to the consideration of the Inquisition. Nicolini was permitted to communicate this to the Grand Duke only, and both were declared liable to "the usual censures" of the Inquisition in case of divulging the secret.

The next step was to summon Galileo to Rome, and the only answer returned to all Nicolini's representations of his advanced age of seventy years, the very infirm state of his health, and the discomforts which he must necessarily suffer in such a journey, and in keeping quarantine, was that he might come at leisure, and that the quarantine should be relaxed as much as possible in his favour, but that it was indispensably necessary that he should be personally examined before the Inquisition at Rome. Accordingly, on the 14th of February, 1633, Nicolini announces Galileo's arrival, and that he had officially notified his presence to the Assessor and Commissary of the Holy Office. Cardinal Barberino, Urban's nephew, who seems on the whole to have acted a friendly part towards Galileo, intimated to him that his most prudent course would be to keep himself as much at home and as quiet as possible, and to refuse to see any but his most intimate friends. With this advice, which was repeated to him from several quarters, Galileo thought it best to comply, and kept himself entirely secluded in Nicolini's palace, where he was as usual maintained at the expense of the Grand Duke. Nelli quotes two letters, which passed between Ferdinand's minister Cioli and Nicolini, in which the former intimated that Galileo's expenses were to be defrayed only during the first month of his residence at Rome. Nicolini returned a spirited answer, that in that case, after the time specified, he should continue to treat him as before at his own private cost.

The permission to reside at the ambassador's palace whilst his cause was pending, was granted and received as an extraordinary indulgence on the part of the Inquisition, and indeed if we estimate the proceedings throughout against Galileo by the usual practice of that detestable tribunal, it will appear that he was treated with unusual consideration. Even when it became necessary in the course of the inquiry to examine him in person, which was in the beginning of April, although his removal to the Holy Office was then insisted upon, yet he was not committed to close or strictly solitary confinement. On the contrary, he was honourably lodged in the apartments of the Fiscal of the Inquisition, where he was allowed the attendance of his own servant, who was also permitted to sleep in an adjoining room, and to come and go at pleasure. His table was still furnished by Nicolini. But, notwithstanding the distinction with which he was thus treated, Galileo was annoyed and uneasy at being (though little more than nominally) within the walls of the Inquisition. He became exceedingly anxious that the matter should be brought to a conclusion, and a severe attack of his constitutional complaints rendered him still more fretful and impatient. On the last day of April, about ten days after his first examination, he was unexpectedly permitted to return to Nicolini's house, although the proceedings were yet far from being brought to a conclusion. Nicolini attributes this favour to Cardinal Barberino, who, he says, liberated Galileo on his own responsibility, in consideration of the enfeebled state of his health.

In the society of Nicolini and his family, Galileo recovered something of his courage and ordinary cheerfulness, although his return appears to have been permitted on express condition of a strict seclusion; for at the latter end of May, Nicolini was obliged to apply for permission that Galileo should take that exercise in the open air which was necessary for his health; on which occasion he was permitted to go into the public gardens in a half-closed carriage.

On the evening of the 20th of June, rather more than four months after Galileo's arrival in Rome, he was again summoned to the Holy Office, whither he went the following morning; he was detained there during the whole of that day, and on the next day was conducted in a penitential dress[83] to the Convent of Minerva, where the Cardinals and Prelates, his judges, were assembled for the purpose of passing judgment upon him, by which this venerable old man was solemnly called upon to renounce and abjure, as impious and heretical, the opinions which his whole existence had been consecrated to form and strengthen. As we are not aware that this remarkable record of intolerance and bigoted folly has ever been printed entire in English, we subjoin a literal translation of the whole sentence and abjuration.

The Sentence of the Inquisition on Galileo.

We cannot suppose that Galileo, even broken down as he was with age and infirmities, and overawed by the merciless tribunal to whose power he was subjected, could without extreme reluctance thus formally give the lie to his whole life, and call upon God to witness his renunciation of the opinions which even his bigoted judges must have felt that he still clung to in his heart.

We know indeed that his friends were unanimous in recommending an unqualified acquiescence in whatever might be required, but some persons have not been able to find an adequate explanation of his submission, either in their exhortations, or in the mere dread of the alternative which might await him in case of non-compliance. It has in short been supposed, although the suspicion scarcely rests upon grounds sufficiently strong to warrant the assertion, that Galileo did not submit to this abjuration until forced to it, not merely by the apprehension, but by the actual experience of personal violence. The arguments on which this horrible idea appears to be mainly founded are the two following: First, the Inquisitors declare in their sentence that, not satisfied with Galileo's first confession, they judged it necessary to proceed "to the rigorous examination of him, in which he answered like a good Catholic.[85]" It is pretended by those who are more familiar with inquisitorial language than we can profess to be, that the words il rigoroso esame, form the official phrase for the application of the torture, and accordingly they interpret this passage to mean, that the desired answers and submission had thus been extorted from Galileo, which his judges had otherwise failed to get from him. And, secondly, the partisans of this opinion bring forward in corroboration of it, that Galileo immediately on his departure from Rome, in addition to his old complaints, was found to be afflicted with hernia, and this was a common consequence of the torture of the cord, which they suppose to have been inflicted. It is right to mention that no other trace can be found of this supposed torturing in all the documents relative to the proceedings against Galileo, at least Venturi was so assured by one who had inspected the originals at Paris.[86] Although the arguments we have mentioned appear to us slight, yet neither can we attach much importance to the contrast which the favourers of the opposite opinion profess to consider so incredible between the honourable manner in which Galileo was treated throughout the rest of the inquiry, and the suspected harsh proceeding against him. Whether Galileo should be lodged in a prison or a palace, was a matter of far other importance to the Inquisitors and to their hold upon public opinion, than the question whether or not he should be suffered to exhibit a persevering resistance to the censures which they were prepared to cast upon him. Nor need we shrink from the idea, as we might from suspecting of some gross crime, on trivial grounds, one of hitherto unblemished innocence and character. The question may be disencumbered of all such scruples, since one atrocity more or less can do little towards affecting our judgment of the unholy Office of the Inquisition.

Delambre, who could find so much to reprehend in Galileo's former uncompromising boldness, is deeply penetrated with the insincerity of his behaviour on the present occasion. He seems to have forgotten that a tribunal which finds it convenient to carry on its inquiries in secret, is always liable to the suspicion of putting words into the mouth of its victims; and if it were worth while, there is sufficient internal evidence that the language which Galileo is made to hold in his defence and confession, is rather to be read as the composition of his judges than his own. For instance, in one of the letters which we have extracted,[87] it may be seen that this obnoxious work was already in forward preparation as early as 1610, and yet he is made to confess, and the circumstance appears to be brought forward in aggravation of his guilt, that he began to write it after the prohibition which he had received in 1616.

The abjuration was drawn up in the following terms:—

It is said that Galileo, as he rose from his knees, stamped on the ground, and whispered to one of his friends, E pur si muove—(It does move though).

Copies of Galileo's sentence and abjuration were immediately promulgated in every direction, and the professors at several universities received directions to read them publicly. At Florence this ceremony took place in the church of Sta. Croce, whither Guiducci, Aggiunti, and all others who were known in that city as firm adherents to Galileo's opinions, were specially summoned. The triumph of the "Paper Philosophers" was so far complete, and the alarm occasioned by this proof of their dying power extended even beyond Italy. "I have been told," writes Descartes from Holland to Mersenne at Paris, "that Galileo's system was printed in Italy last year, but that every copy has been burnt at Rome, and himself condemned to some sort of penance, which has astonished me so much that I have almost determined to burn all my papers, or at least never to let them be seen by any one. I cannot collect that he, who is an Italian and even a friend of the Pope, as I understand, has been criminated on any other account than for having attempted to establish the motion of the earth. I know that this opinion was formerly censured by some Cardinals, but I thought I had since heard, that no objection was now made to its being publicly taught, even at Rome."

The sentiments of all who felt themselves secured against the apprehension of personal danger could take but one direction, for, as Pascal well expressed it in one of his celebrated letters to the Jesuits—"It is in vain that you have procured against Galileo a decree from Rome condemning his opinion of the earth's motion. Assuredly, that will never prove it to be at rest; and if we have unerring observations proving that it turns round, not all mankind together can keep it from turning, nor themselves from turning with it."

The assembly of doctors of the Sorbonne at Paris narrowly escaped from passing a similar sentence upon the system of Copernicus. The question was laid before them by Richelieu, and it appears that their opinion was for a moment in favour of confirming the Roman decree. It is to be wished that the name had been preserved of one of its members, who, by his strong and philosophical representations, saved that celebrated body from this disgrace.

Those who saw nothing in the punishment of Galileo but passion and blinded superstition, took occasion to revert to the history of a similar blunder of the Court of Rome in the middle of the eighth century. A Bavarian bishop, named Virgil, eminent both as a man of letters and politician, had asserted the existence of Antipodes, which excited in the ignorant bigots of his time no less alarm than did the motion of the earth in the seventeenth century. Pope Zachary, who was scandalized at the idea of another earth, inhabited by another race of men, and enlightened by another sun and moon (for this was the shape which Virgil's system assumed in his eyes), sent out positive orders to his legate in Bavaria. "With regard to Virgil, the philosopher, (I know not whether to call him priest,) if he own these perverse opinions, strip him of his priesthood, and drive him from the church and altars of God." But Virgil had himself occasionally acted as legate, and was moreover too necessary to his sovereign to be easily displaced. He utterly disregarded these denunciations, and during twenty-five years which elapsed before his death, retained his opinions, his bishopric of Salzburg, and his political power. He was afterwards canonized.[88]

Even the most zealous advocates of the authority of Rome were embarrassed in endeavouring to justify the treatment which Galileo experienced. Tiraboschi has attempted to draw a somewhat subtle distinction between the bulls of the Pope and the inquisitorial decrees which were sanctioned and approved by him; he dwells on the reflection that no one, even among the most zealous Catholics, has ever claimed infallibility as an attribute of the Inquisition, and looks upon it as a special mark of grace accorded to the Roman Catholic Church, that during the whole period in which most theologians rejected the opinions of Copernicus, as contrary to the Scriptures, the head of that Church was never permitted to compromise his infallible character by formally condemning it.[89]

Whatever may be the value of this consolation, it can hardly be conceded, unless it be at the same time admitted that many scrupulous members of the Church of Rome have been suffered to remain in singular misapprehension of the nature and sanction of the authority to which Galileo had yielded. The words of the bull of Sixtus V., by which the Congregation of the Index was remodelled in 1588, are quoted by a professor of the University of Louvain, a zealous antagonist of Galileo, as follows: "They are to examine and expose the books which are repugnant to the Catholic doctrines and Christian discipline, and after reporting on them to us, they are to condemn them by our authority.[90]" Nor does it appear that the learned editors of what is commonly called the Jesuit's edition of Newton's "Principia" were of opinion, that in adopting the Copernican system they should transgress a mandate emanating from any thing short of infallible wisdom. The remarkable words which they were compelled to prefix to their book, show how sensitive the court of Rome remained, even so late as 1742, with regard to this rashly condemned theory. In their preface they say: "Newton in this third book supposes the motion of the earth. We could not explain the author's propositions otherwise than by making the same supposition. We are therefore forced to sustain a character which is not our own; but we profess to pay the obsequious reverence which is due to the decrees pronounced by the supreme Pontiffs against the motion of the earth."[91]

This coy reluctance to admit what nobody any longer doubts has survived to the present time; for Bailli informs us,[92] that the utmost endeavours of Lalande, when at Rome, to obtain that Galileo's work should be erased from the Index, were entirely ineffectual, in consequence of the decree which had been fulminated against him; and in fact both it, and the book of Copernicus, "Nisi Corrigatur," are still to be seen on the forbidden list of 1828.

The condemnation of Galileo and his book was not thought sufficient. Urban's indignation also vented itself upon those who had been instrumental in obtaining the licence for him. The Inquisitor at Florence was reprimanded; Riccardi, the master of the sacred palace, and Ciampoli, Urban's secretary, were both dismissed from their situations. Their punishment appears rather anomalous and inconsistent with the proceedings against Galileo, in which it was assumed that his book was not properly licensed; yet the others suffered on account of granting that very licence, which he was accused of having surreptitiously obtained from them, by concealing circumstances with which they were not bound to be otherwise acquainted. Riccardi, in exculpation of his conduct, produced a letter in the hand-writing of Ciampoli, in which was contained that His Holiness, in whose presence the letter professed to be written, ordered the licence to be given. Urban only replied that this was a Ciampolism; that his secretary and Galileo had circumvented him; that he had already dismissed Ciampoli, and that Riccardi must prepare to follow him.

As soon as the ceremony of abjuration was concluded, Galileo was consigned, pursuant to his sentence, to the prison of the Inquisition. Probably it was never intended that he should long remain there, for at the end of four days, he was reconducted on a very slight representation of Nicolini to the ambassador's palace, there to await his further destination. Florence was still suffering under the before-mentioned contagion; and Sienna was at last fixed on as the place of his relegation. He would have been shut up in some convent in that city, if Nicolini had not recommended as a more suitable residence, the palace of the Archbishop Piccolomini, whom he knew to be among Galileo's warmest friends. Urban consented to the change, and Galileo finally left Rome for Sienna in the early part of July.

Piccolomini received him with the utmost kindness, controlled of course by the strict injunctions which were dispatched from Rome, not to suffer him on any account to quit the confines of the palace. Galileo continued at Sienna in this state of seclusion till December of the same year, when the contagion having ceased in Tuscany, he applied for permission to return to his villa at Arcetri. This was allowed, subject to the same restrictions under which he had been residing with the archbishop.