The Warfare of Science
TextThe Dominican father, Caccini, preached a sermon from the text, "Ye men of Galilee, why stand ye gazing up into heaven?" and this wretched pun was the first of a series of sharper weapons; for before Caccini finishes, he insists that "geometry is of the devil," and that "mathematicians should be banished as the authors of all heresies;" and, for this, the Church authorities gave Caccini promotion. 41
Father Lorini proved that the doctrine was not only "heretical," but "atheistic," and besought the Inquisition to intervene. The Bishop of Fiesole screamed in rage against the Copernican system, and proposed to denounce Galileo to the grand-duke. The Archbishop of Pisa secretly sought to entrap Galileo and deliver him to the Inquisition at Rome. The Archbishop of Florence solemnly condemned the doctrines of Kopernik and Galileo as unscriptural.
But by far the most terrible champion who appeared against him was Bellarmin, one of the greatest of theologians, and one of the poorest of scientists. He was earnest, sincere, learned, but made the fearful mistake for the world of applying to science, direct, literal interpretation of Scripture. 42
The weapons which men of Bellarmin's stamp used were theological. They held up before the world the dreadful consequences which must result to Christian theology were the doctrine to prevail that the heavenly bodies revolve about the sun, and not about the earth. Their most tremendous theologic engine against Galileo was the idea that his pretended discovery "vitiated the whole Christian plan of salvation." Father Lecazre declared that it "cast suspicion on the doctrine of the Incarnation." Others declared that it "upset the whole basis of theology; that, if the earth is a planet, and one among several planets, it cannot be that any such great things have been done especially for it, as the Christian doctrine teaches. If there are other planets, since God makes nothing in vain, they must be inhabited; but how can these inhabitants be descended from Adam? How can they trace back their origin to Noah's ark? How can they have been redeemed by the Saviour?" 43
Nor was this argument confined to the theologians of the Roman Church; Melanchthon, Protestant as he was, had already used it in his attacks upon the ideas of Kopernik and his school. 44
In addition to this prodigious engine of war, there was kept up a terrific fire of smaller artillery in the shape of texts and scriptural extracts.
But the little telescope of Galileo still swept the heavens, and the next revelation announced was the system of mountains and valleys in the moon. This was a signal for another attack. It was declared that this, coupled with the statement that the moon shines by light reflected from the sun, was a contradiction of the statement in Genesis that the moon is a "great light" like the sun. To make the matter worse, a painter, placing the moon in a religious picture in its usual position beneath the feet of the Blessed Virgin, outlined on its surface mountains and valleys; this was denounced as a sacrilege logically resulting from the astronomer's heresy.
The next struggle was aroused when the hated telescope revealed spots upon the sun, and their motion, which indicated the sun's rotation. Monsignor Elci, head of the University of Pisa, forbade the Professor of Astronomy, Castelli, to mention these spots. Father Busaeus, at the University of Innspruck, forbade the astronomer Scheiner to allow the new discovery to be known there. At the College of Douay and the University of Louvain it was expressly placed under the ban, and this became the general rule among the Catholic universities and colleges of Europe. The Spanish universities were specially intolerant of this and similar ideas, 45 and up to a recent period they were strictly forbidden in the most important university of all—that of Salamanca. In 1820 the Abbé Settele, professor at the College of Rome, having announced a work on Optics and Astronomy, the master of the sacred palace, under the authority of the old decrees against the teachings of Kopernik and Galileo, forbade the publication, and it was not until 1822 that Pope Pius VII. sanctioned a decision of the Inquisition permitting such teachings. 46
Such are the consequences of placing the instruction of men's minds in the hands of those mainly absorbed in the work of saving men's souls. 47 Nothing could be more in accordance with the idea recently put forth by the Bishop of Montpellier, that the Church is alone fully empowered to promulgate scientific truth or direct university instruction; but science gained the victory here also. News came of observations of the solar spots, not only from Galileo in Italy, but from Fabricius in Holland. Father Scheiner then endeavors to make the usual treaty; he promulgates a pseudo-scientific theory—a statement based on a "religious science"—which only provokes derision.
But the war grew more and more bitter, and the principal weapons in it are worth examining. They are very easily examined; you may pick them up on any of the battle-fields of science; but on that field they were used with more effect than on almost any other. These weapons are two epithets: "Infidel" and "Atheist."
The battle-fields of science are thickly strewn with these. They have been used against almost every man who has ever done anything new for his fellow-men. The list of those who have been denounced as infidel and atheist includes almost all great men of science—general scholars, inventors, philanthropists. The deepest Christian life, the most noble Christian character, have not availed to shield combatants. Christians like Isaac Newton and Pascal and John Locke and John Milton, and even Howard and Fénelon, have had these weapons hurled against them. Of all proofs of the existence of a God, those of Descartes have been wrought most thoroughly into the minds of modern men; and yet the Protestant theologians of Holland sought to bring him to torture and to death by the charge of atheism, and the Roman Catholic theologians of France prevented the rendering of any due honors to him at his burial. 48
These epithets can hardly be classed with civilized weapons. They are burning arrows. They set fire to great masses of popular prejudices; smoke rises to obscure the real questions; fire bursts forth at times to destroy the attacked party. They are poisoned. They go to the hearts of loving women, they alienate dear children; they injure the man after life is ended, for they leave poisoned wounds in the hearts of those who loved him best—fears for his eternal happiness—dread of the Divine displeasure. Of course, in these days, these weapons, though often effective in disturbing good men and in scaring good women, are somewhat blunted. Indeed, they not unfrequently injure assailants more than assailed. So it was not in the days of Galileo; they were then in all their sharpness and venom.
Yet far more vile than the use even of these weapons—vile indeed beyond belief—was the attack by the Archbishop of Pisa.
It is a remark made by one of the most moderate and judicially fair of modern philosophic historians, that, of all organizations this world has known, the Roman Church has caused most undeserved woe and shed most innocent blood; but, in the whole terrible succession of Torquemadas and Arbues and Granvilles, the vilest enemy of the human race is probably this same Archbishop of Pisa.
This man, whose cathedral is more truly consecrated by the remembrance of Galileo's observation of the lamp swinging before its altar, than by all the church services of a thousand years, began a siege against the great philosopher.
Galileo, after his discoveries had been denounced as contrary to Scripture, had been induced to write to the Duchess Christine and to his friend Castelli two letters, to show that his discoveries might be reconciled to Scripture. The archbishop saw his opportunity: he determined to get hold of these letters and exhibit them as proofs that Galileo had uttered heretical views of theology and the Scriptures, and thus to bring the astronomer hopelessly into the clutch of the Inquisition. The archbishop begs Castelli, therefore, to let him see the original letter in the handwriting of Galileo. Castelli declines; the archbishop then, while, as is now revealed, writing constantly and bitterly to the inquisitors against Galileo, professes to Castelli the greatest admiration of Galileo's genius, and a sincere desire to know more of his discoveries. Castelli is seduced by this; but Galileo sturdily forbids sending the letter, and the archbishop is obliged to resort to open attack.
The whole struggle to crush Galileo and to save him would be amusing were it not so fraught with evil. There were intrigues and counter-intrigues, plots and counter-plots, lying and spying, and in the thickest of this seething, squabbling, screaming mass, priests, bishops, archbishops, cardinals, and even the future Pope Urban VIII. himself. It is most suggestive to see in this crisis of the Church, on the eve of the greatest errors in church policy the world has known, in all the efforts and deliberations of these consecrated leaders of the Church, at the tomb of the Prince of the Apostles, no more sign of the guidance or presence of the Holy Spirit than in a caucus of New York politicians.
But the opposing powers were too strong. In 1615 Galileo is summoned by the Inquisition to Rome, and the mine, which had been so long preparing, was sprung. Pope Paul V. and the cardinal inquisitors order eleven theologians of the Inquisition to examine these two propositions which had been extracted from Galileo's letters on the solar spots: First, that the sun does not move about the earth; secondly, that the earth does move about the sun. The eleven theologians solemnly considered these points, and in about a month rendered a solemn decision that "the first proposition, that the sun is the centre, and does not revolve about the earth, is foolish, absurd, false in theology, and heretical, because expressly contrary to Holy Scripture; and that the second proposition, that the earth is not the centre, but revolves about the sun, is absurd, false in philosophy, and, from a theological point of view, at least opposed to the true faith." 49
The pope himself, Paul V., now intervenes; he orders that Galileo be brought before the Inquisition. Then the great man of science in that age is brought face to face with the greatest theologian: Galileo is confronted by Cardinal Bellarmin. Bellarmin shows Galileo the error of his opinion, and orders him to renounce it. De Lauda, fortified by a letter from the pope, ordering the astronomer to be placed in the dungeon of the Inquisition should he refuse to yield, commands him to "abandon entirely the opinion that the sun is the centre of the universe, and that the earth moves, and to abstain from sustaining, teaching, or defending that opinion in any manner whatever, orally or by writing." 50
Galileo bowed to this order, was allowed to retire, and the whole proceeding was kept secret.
About ten days later, on March 5, 1616, the Congregation of the Index, moved thereto, as we have seen, and as the letters and documents now brought to light show, by Pope Paul V., solemnly rendered their decree: that the doctrine of the double movement of the earth about its axis and about the sun is false and entirely contrary to Holy Scripture; that this opinion must neither be taught nor defended. The same decree condemned the writings of Kopernik, and all writings which affirm the motion of the earth. The great work of Kopernik was interdicted until corrected in accordance with the views of the Inquisition; and the works of Galileo and Kepler, though not mentioned by name, were included among those implicitly condemned as "affirming the motion of the earth."
The condemnations were inscribed upon the Index, and to the Index was prefixed the usual papal bull giving its monitions the papal sanction. To teach or even read the works denounced or passages condemned, was to risk persecution in this world and damnation in the next. Human science had apparently lost the great decisive battle.
For some time Galileo remained at Rome perfectly submissive. 51 Pope Paul V. petted him, and all seemed happy in the ending of the long war.
But, returning to Florence, something of his old scientific ardor stirred within him; and at last Cardinal Barberini, who had seemed liberal and friendly, having been made pope under the name of Urban VIII., Galileo conceived new hopes, and again in a published work alluded favorably to the Copernican system. New troubles ensued. Galileo was induced to visit Rome again, and Pope Urban tried to cajole him into silence, and personally took the trouble to try to show the astronomer his errors by argument. Other opponents were less considerate. Works appeared attacking his ideas—works all the more unmanly, since their authors knew how Galileo was restrained by force from defending himself; and, as if to accumulate proofs of the fitness of the Church to take charge of advanced instruction, his salary as professor at the University of Pisa was taken from him. Sapping and mining began. Just as the Archbishop of Pisa some years before had tried to betray Galileo with honeyed words to the Inquisition, so now Father Grassi tried it; and after various attempts to draw him out by flattery, suddenly denounced his scientific ideas as "leading to a denial of the real presence in the Eucharist."
And here science again loses ground. Galileo had announced his intention of writing upon the theory of the tides, but he retreated, and thus was lost a great treatise to the world.
For the final assault, the park of heavy artillery was at last wheeled into place. You see it on all the scientific battle-fields. It consists of general denunciation; and Father Melchior Inchofer, of the Jesuits, brought his artillery to bear well on Galileo with this declaration: that the opinion of the earth's motion is, of all heresies, the most abominable, the most pernicious, the most scandalous; that the immobility of the earth is thrice sacred; that argument against the immortality of the soul, the Creator, the incarnation, etc., should be tolerated sooner than an argument to prove that the earth moves. 52
But this state of things could not be endured forever. Urged beyond forbearance, Galileo prepares a careful treatise in the form of a dialogue, exhibiting the arguments for and against the Copernican and Ptolemaic systems. He then offers to submit to any conditions the Church tribunals may impose, if they will but allow it to be printed. At last they consent, imposing the most humiliating condition of all, which was a preface written by Father Ricciardi and signed by Galileo, in which the whole work was virtually exhibited as a play of the imagination, and not at all as opposed to the truth laid down in 1616 by the Inquisition.
The new work met with prodigious success; it put new weapons into the hands of the supporters of the Copernican theory. The preface only embittered the contest; it was laughed at from one end of Europe to the other as ironical. This aroused the enemy. The Jesuits, Dominicans, and the great majority of the clergy, returned to the attack more violent than ever; and Pope Urban VIII., his personal pride being touched, after some halting joined the clerical forces.
The first important piece of strategy was to forbid the sale of the work; but the first edition had already been exhausted and spread throughout Europe. Urban now became angry, and both Galileo and his works were placed in the hands of the Inquisition. In vain did the good Benedictine Castelli urge that Galileo was entirely respectful to the Church; in vain did he say that "nothing that could be done could now hinder the earth from revolving." He was dismissed, and Galileo was forced to appear in the presence of the dread tribunal without defender or adviser. There, as was so long concealed but as is now fully revealed, he was menaced with torture by express order of Pope Urban, and, as is now thoroughly established by documentary evidence, forced to abjure under threats, and subjected to imprisonment by command of Urban, the Inquisition deferring in the most servile manner to the papal authority.
The rest of the story the world knows by heart; none of the recent attempts have succeeded in mystifying it. The whole world will remember forever how Galileo was subjected certainly to indignity and imprisonment equivalent to physical torture; 53 how he was at last forced to pronounce publicly, and on his knees, his recantation as follows: "I, Galileo, being in my seventieth year, being a prisoner and on my knees, and before your eminences, having before my eyes the Holy Gospel, which I touch with my hands, abjure, curse, and detest the error and the heresy of the movement of the earth."
He was vanquished indeed, for he had been forced, in the face of all coming ages, to perjure himself; and, to complete his dishonor, he was obliged to swear to denounce to the Inquisition any other man of science whom he should discover to be supporting heresy—the "heresy of the movement of the earth."
Nor was this all. To the end of his life, nay, after his life was ended, this bitter persecution was continued, on the supposition that the great truths he revealed were hurtful to religion. After a brief stay in the dungeons of the Inquisition, he was kept in exile from family, friends, all his noble employments, and held rigidly to his promise not even to speak of his theory. When, in the midst of intense bodily sufferings from disease and mental sufferings from calamities in his family, he besought some little liberty, he was met with threats of a recommittal to his dungeon. When, at last, a special commissioner had reported to the ecclesiastical authorities that Galileo had become blind and wasted away with disease and sorrow, he was allowed but little more liberty, and that little tempered by the close surveillance of the ecclesiastical authorities. He was forced to bear contemptible attacks on himself and on his works in silence; he lived to see his ideas carefully weeded out from all the church colleges and universities in Europe; and when, in a scientific work, he happened to be spoken of as "renowned," the Inquisition ordered the substitution of the word "notorious." 54
Nor did the persecution cease with his death. Galileo had begged to be buried in his family tomb in Santa Croce; the request was denied: his friends wished to erect a monument over him; this, too, was refused. Pope Urban said to the embassador Niccolini that "it would be an evil example for the world if such honors were rendered to a man who had been brought before the Roman Inquisition for an opinion so false and erroneous, who had communicated it to many others, and who had given so great a scandal to Christendom." 55
In accordance, therefore, with the wish of the pope and the orders of the Inquisition, Galileo was buried ignobly, apart from his family, without fitting ceremony, without monument, without epitaph. Not until forty years after did Pierozzi dare to write his epitaph. Not until a hundred years after did Nelli dare transfer his remains to Santa Croce and erect above them a suitable monument. Even then the old conscientious hostility burst out: the Inquisition was besought to prevent such honors to "a man condemned for notorious errors;" and that tribunal refused to allow any epitaph to be placed above him which had not first been submitted to its censorship. Nor has that old conscientious consistency in hatred yet fully relented; hardly a generation since has not seen some Marini, or De Bonald, or Rallaye, or De Gabriac, suppressing evidence, or torturing expressions, or inventing theories, to blacken the memory of Galileo and save the reputation of the Church. 56
The action of the Church authorities corresponded well to the spirit thus exhibited; not until 1757, over one hundred years after his condemnation, was it removed, and then secretly; not until 1835, over two hundred years after his condemnation, was the record of it expunged from the Index.
But this is by no means the only important part of this history. Hardly less important, for one who wishes to understand the character of the warfare of science, is it to go back over those two hundred years between that fearful crime and its acknowledgment, and study the great retreat of the army of the Church after its disastrous victory over Galileo.
Having gained this victory, the conscientious believers in the Bible as a compendium of history and text-book of science exulted greatly. Loud was the rejoicing that the "heresy," the "infidelity," the "atheism," involved in believing that the earth revolves about its axis and moves around the sun, had been crushed by the great tribunal of the Church, acting in strict obedience to the expressed will of one pope and the written order of another.
But soon clear-sighted men saw that this victory was a disaster. From all sides came proofs that Kopernik and Galileo were right; and although Pope Urban and the Inquisition held Galileo in strict seclusion, not allowing him even to speak regarding the double motion of the earth; and although the condemnation of "all books which affirm the motion of the earth" was kept on the Index; and although the colleges and universities under Church control were compelled to teach the opposite doctrine, it was seen that the position gained by the victory over Galileo could not be maintained for ever. So began the great retreat—the retreat of the army of Church apologists through two centuries of sophistry, trickery, and falsehood.
The first important move in the retreat was a falling back upon the statement that Galileo was condemned, not because he affirmed the motion of the earth, but because he supported it from Scripture. For a considerable time this falsehood served its purpose; even a hundred and fifty years after Galileo's condemnation it was renewed by the Protestant Mallet du Pan, 57 in his wish to gain favor from the older Church; but the slightest critical examination of the original documents, recently revealed, show this position utterly untenable. The letters of Galileo to Castelli and the Grand-duchess Christine, in which he spoke of the Copernican theory as reconcilable with Scripture, were not published until after the condemnation; and although the Archbishop of Pisa had endeavored to use them against him, they were but casually mentioned in 1616, and entirely left out of view in 1633. What was condemned in 1616 as "absurd, false in theology, and heretical, because absolutely contrary to Holy Scripture," was the proposition that "the sun is the centre about which the earth revolves;" and what was condemned as "absurd, false in philosophy, and, from a theologic point of view at least, opposed to the true faith," was the proposition that "the earth is not the centre of the universe and immovable, but has a diurnal motion." 58
What Galileo was made, by express order of Pope Urban and by the action of the Inquisition under threat of torture, to abjure, was "the error and heresy of the movement of the earth." 59
What the Index, prefaced by papal bulls binding its contents upon the consciences of the faithful, for two hundred years steadily condemned, were "all books which affirm the motion of the earth."
Not one of these condemnations was directed against Galileo's private letters to Castelli and Christine affirming the possibility of reconciling his ideas to Scripture.
Having been dislodged from this point, the Church apologists sought cover under the statement that "Galileo was condemned not for heresy, but for contumacy," and for "wanting in respect for the pope." 60
As to the first point, the very language of the various sentences shows the falsehood of the assertion; they speak of "heresy," and never of "contumacy." As to the last point, the display of the original documents settled that forever. It was proved by them that from first to last he had been toward the pope most patient and submissive. He had indeed expressed his anger at times against his traducers; but to hold this the cause of the judgment against him, is to degrade the whole proceeding, and to convict the pope, Bellarmin, the theologians, and the Inquisition, of direct falsehood, since they assigned entirely different reasons for their conduct. From this, therefore, the apologists hastily retreated.
The next rally was made about the statement that the persecution of Galileo was the result of a quarrel between Aristotelian professors on one side and professors favoring the experimental method on the other, and that at first Pope Urban favored Galileo. But this position was attacked and carried by a very simple statement. If the Divine guidance of the Church is such a sham that it can be dragged into a professional squabble, and the pope made the tool of a faction in bringing about a most disastrous condemnation of a proven truth, how does the Church differ from any human organization sunk into decrepitude, managed by simpletons and controlled by schemers? If the argument be true, the condition of the Church is worse than its enemies have declared it. Amid the jeers of an unfeeling world the apologists sought new shelter.
The next point at which a stand was made was the assertion that the condemnation of Galileo was "provisory;" but this proved a more treacherous shelter than the other. When doctrines have been solemnly declared, as those of Galileo were solemnly declared, "contrary to the sacred Scriptures," "opposed to the true faith," and "false and absurd in theology and philosophy," to say that such declarations are "provisory," 61 is to say that the truth held by the Church is not immutable; from this, then, the apologists retreated.
While this retreat was going on, there was a constant discharge of small-arms in the shape of innuendoes, hints, and small sophistries, by small writers; every effort was made to blacken Galileo's private character; the irregularities of his early life were dragged forth, and stress was laid on breaches of etiquette; but this succeeded so poorly, that in 1850 it was thought necessary by the Roman court to cover their retreat by some more careful strategy.
The original documents of the trial of Galileo had, during the storms of the early part of the century, been transferred to Paris; but after several years, in 1846, they were returned to Rome by the French government, on the express promise by the papal authorities that the decisions should be published. After various delays, on various pretexts, in 1850 the long-expected publication appeared. The ecclesiastic charged with presenting them to the world was Monsignor Marini. This ecclesiastic was of a kind which has too often afflicted the weary earth—fox-like in cunning, cat-like in treachery. Despite the solemn promise of the papal court, the wily Marini became the instrument of the Roman authority in evading the promise; by suppressing a document here, and interpolating a statement there, he managed to give plausible standing-ground for nearly every important sophistry ever broached to save the reputation of the Church and destroy the reputation of Galileo. He it was who supported the idea that "Galileo was condemned not for heresy, but for contumacy," and various other assertions as groundless.
The first effect of Monsignor Marini's book seemed favorable in covering the retreat of the Church; aided by him, such vigorous writers as Ward were able to throw up temporary intrenchments between the Church and the indignation of the world.
But some time later came an investigator very different from wily Monsignor Marini. This man was a Frenchman, M. de l'Epinois. Like Marini, de l'Epinois was devoted to the Church, but, unlike Marini, he could not lie. Having obtained access, in 1867, to the Galileo documents at the Vatican, he published fully all those of importance, without suppression or piously-fraudulent manipulation. This made all the intrenchments based upon Marini's statements untenable. Another retreat had to be made.
And now was made the most desperate effort of all. The apologistic army, reviving an idea which popes and Church had spurned, declared that the pope, as pope, had never condemned the doctrines of Kopernik and Galileo; that he had condemned them as a man simply; that therefore the Church had never been committed to them; that they were condemned by the cardinals of the Inquisition and Index, and that the pope had evidently been restrained from signing their condemnation by Providence. 62 Nothing could show the desperation of the retreating party better than jugglery like this. The facts are, that from Pope Urban downward, among the Church authorities of the seventeenth century, the decision was spoken of as made by the pope and the Church. Urban VIII. spoke of that of 1616 as made by Pope Paul V. and the Church, and of that of 1633 as made by himself and the Church. 63
When Gassendi attempted to raise the point that the decision was not sanctioned by the Church as such, a great theological authority, Father Lecazre, rector of the College of Dijon, publicly contradicted him, and declared that it "was not certain cardinals, but the supreme authority of the Church," that had condemned Galileo; and to this statement the pope and the Church gave consent, either openly or by silence. 64 The suspected thinkers, like Descartes and others, who attempted to raise the same point, were treated with contempt. Father Castelli, who had devoted himself to Galileo, and knew to his cost just what the condemnation meant and who made it, takes it for granted, in his letter to the papal authorities, that it was made by the Church. Cardinal Querenghi in his letters, the embassador Guicciardini in his dispatches, the historian Viviani in his biography of Galileo—all writing under Church inspection at the time—take the view that the Church condemned Galileo. The Inquisition itself, backed by the greatest theologian of the time, Bellarmin, took the same view; 65 and if this were not enough, we have the Roman Index, containing the condemnation for nearly two hundred years, prefaced by a solemn bull of the reigning pope, binding the condemnation on the consciences of the whole Church, and reiterating year after year the condemnation of "all books which affirm the motion of the earth" as damnable. 66 To attempt to face all this, added to the fact that the Inquisition condemned Galileo, and required his abjuration of "the heresy of the movement of the earth" by written order of the pope, was soon seen to be impossible.