Kitabı oku: «The Freedom of Science», sayfa 16

Galileo, and Other Topics

Galileo Galilei– but few names have achieved equal fame. Men like Alexander and Cæsar, like Homer and Dante, have scarcely succeeded in writing their names with a sharper pencil on the tablet of history than the astronomer of Pisa. His grand discoveries in natural science have done little to crown his temples with the wreath of immortality – it was the fate of his life that did it. And one may add: if this fate had been caused by the French government, or by a Protestant General Assembly, he would never have obtained his position in history; but since this lot came to him by the human limitation of a Roman Church authority, his name is not only entered on the calendar of the anti-Roman journalist, it also stands surrounded with the halo of a Martyr in the esteem of serious scientists, who see in Galileo and in the consequent condemnation of the Copernican system the proof that dogma and science cannot agree, that the Catholic Church assumes a hostile attitude toward science. Whenever this theme is mentioned, Galileo's ghost is paraded. For this reason we cannot pass by this fact of history. To a son of the Church they are unpleasant recollections, but this shall not keep us from looking history firmly in the eye.

There are some other charges brought forth from history, but the Galileo case overshadows them all. We shall touch upon them but briefly, and then return to Galileo.

Attention is called to the Church's condemnation of the doctrine of Antipodes. The Priest Vigilius was accused in Rome, in 747, of having taught that there exists another world under the earth, and other people also, or another sun and moon (quod alius mundus et alii homines sub terra sint seu sol et luna). Such was his doctrine as stated by Pope Zacharias in his reply to Boniface, the Apostle of Germany, in which he said that he had cited Vigilius to Rome in order that his doctrine be thoroughly investigated: if it should turn out that this had really been taught by him, he would be condemned. Further particulars of his teaching are unknown, because it is mentioned only in the above passage. The assertion ascribed to him is that there is another world besides this one, with other inhabitants and with another sun and moon – an assertion scientifically absurd and dogmatically inadmissible, as this might call in question the common descent of mankind from one pair of parents. The anxiety and rebuke of the Pope is directed solely against the latter point. The condemnation of Vigilius has never taken place, for he remained in his office, won great respect, was elevated to the bishopric of Salzburg, and later canonized by Gregory IX. Had a condemnation of his particular doctrine taken place, this would not have involved the condemnation of the antipodean theory, in the sense that the side of the globe opposite to us is also inhabited by human beings, a proposition which does not conflict with any doctrine of faith. The doctrine described above has another tendency. The entire case is hidden in obscurity (Hefele, Conc. Gesch., 2d ed., III, 557 seq.).

Furthermore, it has been said that at the time when the universities were in close union with the Church, medical science could not advance because the Church had prohibited human anatomy (Prof. J. H. van't Hoff, Neue Freie Presse, December 29, 1907). In amplification it was said: “Boniface VIII. had forbidden every anatomical dissection of a body” (O. Zoeckler, Theologie und Naturwissenschaft, 1877, I, 342). What is true of this assertion?

In the first place, Boniface VIII. did not forbid anatomy. He merely prohibited in 1299 and 1300 the hideous custom then prevailing regarding the bodies of noblemen who had died away from home: they were disembowelled, dissected, and boiled, for the purpose of removing the flesh from the bones so that the latter could be transported the more easily. This process had nothing to do with anatomy. The wish to possess the bones of the dead did not seem to the Pope a sufficient reason for treating the human body in such a way (Cfr. Michael, Gesch. des deutschen Volkes III, 1903, 433). Nor does history know of any other prohibition of anatomy by the Church. It tells us, however, that Frederick II. in his excellent rules for the benefit of his Sicilian kingdom in the regulation of medical science among other things emphasizes the study of surgery: he ordered that no one be allowed to practise surgery who could not show by attestation of his professors that he had studied surgery for at least one year, especially that he had learned at school how to dissect bodies; a physician must be perfect in anatomy, else he may not undertake operations (Michael, l. c. 430). This was done and practised under the eyes of the Church. The accusers also seem ignorant of the fact that bodies of those executed were given to universities for dissection. In the year 1336 the medical students of Montpellier, the famous medical school under the immediate direction of the Church (see above, page 154) were granted the privilege of obtaining once a year an executed criminal's body for dissection. The same privilege was extended to the medical students of Lerida by King Juan I. on June 3, 1391, who decreed that the delinquent should be drowned pro speriencia seu anatomia fienda (Denifle, Die Universitaeten des Mittelalters, I, 1885, 507).

The story is also circulated that the fourth Lateran Council in 1215 prohibited monks from studying natural sciences and medicine (Deutschoester. Lehrerzeitung 15th Dec., 1909). It will suffice to quote this particular decree of the Lateran Council: “No clergyman is allowed to pronounce capital sentence, nor to execute it, nor to be present at its execution. No clergyman is allowed to draw up a document concerning a death sentence: at the courts this should be done by laymen. No clergyman is allowed to assume command of Rotarians (freebooters), of archers or any others who shed human blood; no subdeacon, deacon, or priest is allowed to practise that part of surgery by which cutting and burning is done, nor must any one pronounce a benediction at an ordeal” (Hefele, Koncil. Gesch., 2d ed., V, 1887, 887). This will thoroughly dispose of that charge.

Just as briefly may we settle the story of Columbus having been excommunicated because of his intention to discover new lands. It is said that the “Spanish clergy denounced his plans as against the faith, and that the Council of Salamanca excommunicated him” (W. Draper, ibid. 163). This is a fairy tale. The truth is, that King Ferdinandand Queen Isabella referred the plans of the bold Genoese to a council of scientists and ecclesiastical dignitaries, which was held in the Dominican Monastery of Salamanca, Columbus being present. There never was a Council of Salamanca. Weiss writes in his “History of the World”: “Much has been surmised concerning the objections and their refutation. It is only certain that the majority rejected the plan as impossible of execution, and that Columbus won over a minority of them, especially the priests, among whom the learned Dominican Dezadeserves mention” (Weltgesch. VII, 187). Denthofen, in his biography of Columbus, says: “The Dominican Fathers supported him during the long time the conference lasted, and even defrayed the expenses of his journey. Father Diego de Deza, chief professor of theology, was convinced by the reasons of Columbus, and in turn convinced the more learned of his confrères. The majority, however, thought the idea but a phantom, while others deemed it impracticable. The conference adjourned without coming to any definite decision” (Christof Columbus, Eine biographische Skizze … 1878, 21). Columbus found his warmest friend in the learned Father Juan Perez, Guardian of the Franciscan Monastery of St. Maria de la Rabida. Within the quiet walls of this cloister Columbus' plans were disclosed for the first time in Spain, and admired and resolved upon. Perez spoke untiringly to Isabella in favour of the plan, and even aided Columbus in gathering men for his crew. This is the fact about the anathema the Church is paid to have pronounced on Columbus.

But let us return to Galileo.⁶

Galileo Galilei, the great Italian physicist, was born in 1564, at Pisa. At first he was professor in his native town, then at Padua, where he taught the doctrine of Ptolemy, although at that time there was no obstacle to accepting the Copernican system. In 1611 he became mathematician at the court of Cosimo II. at Florence. His talents and happy discoveries soon won fame. In general he was more of a physicist than an astronomer; his astronomical discoveries were, almost without exception, of a kind that did not presuppose a thorough astronomical training. As is known, he was not the original inventor of the telescope, though with its aid he achieved some of the most important of his discoveries; for instance, that of the satellites of Jupiter. The telescope was invented in Holland.

When he went to Rome, in 1611, he was received with great honour. In one of his letters from there he wrote: “I have received marked favours from many Cardinals and prelates here, and from several princes. They wanted to hear of my inventions, and were all well pleased.” The Jesuits gave a special reception in his honour at the Roman College. This shows in what esteem science was then held at Rome. But five years later Galileo returned to the Eternal City under quite different circumstances. What had happened? In 1612 he had issued a treatise on “The History and Explanation of the Sun-spots,” in which he declared unreservedly for the Copernican system. And this caused the change. True, Copernicus himself was a Catholic Priest, and had dedicated his principal work to Pope Paul III. But it was generally supposed that he had brought forward the doctrine only as an hypothesis, only to illustrate and facilitate calculations, not claiming for it absolute certainty. This assumption was based on the preface of the first edition of his book, containing assurance to that effect. That preface, however, was not the work of Copernicus, but had been smuggled into the book by the Protestant publisher Osiander, without the author's knowledge, because Osiander feared his own church authorities.

Galileo spoke in quite another tone. He defended the doctrine as true. He soon aroused opposition. Men standing for the geocentric theory were opposed by others, siding with Galileo for the solar system, such as the learned Benedictine, Castelli. Galileo's great bitterness and sarcasm in dealing with his opponents aggravated the quarrel with the “partisans of Aristotle.” Extreme irritability and love of praise were prominent traits of Galileo's character.

It was the custom of that time to bring Scripture into controversies about nature. This was done also in Galileo's case. Passages were quoted against him, referring to the “rising and setting sun,” to the “earth that never moves,” of Joshua's “commanding the sun to stand still.” This prompted Galileo to cross over into the field of theology himself. In a letter to Castelli in 1613 he says: “Holy Writ can never lie nor err; on the contrary, its sayings are absolute and incontestable truth; but its interpreters are liable to err in various ways, and it is a fatal and very common mistake to stop always at the literal sense” (Kepler, even prior to Galileo, had interpreted the respective passages of the Scriptures properly and with surprising skill; especially in his introduction to his “Astronomia nova.” Cfr. Anschuetz, Johannes Kepler als Exeget. Zeitschrift für katholische Theologie, XI, 1887, 1-24).

Correct as these arguments were, it was nevertheless imprudent for the court mathematician to trespass upon grounds regarded by theologians as their own, instead of furnishing natural scientific proofs. Thus the matter was brought to Rome before the Congregation of the Inquisition. Galileo, worrying about his case, went voluntarily to Rome, in 1615. He failed to assuage the opposition against his theory, though he says he was received favourably by the princes of the Church. Moreover, heedless of the admonition of his friends, he pursued the matter with indiscreet zeal, with vehemence and impetuosity, practically provoking a decision. Cardinal Bellarmin opposed the haste with which the matter was being pressed; the Jesuit Grienberger thought that Galileo should first set forth his proofs, and then speak about the Scriptures. Had scientific proofs been brought forth, theological difficulties would have been easily cleared away; but scientific proof was lacking, and what there perhaps was of it, Galileo failed to offer.

The right of the Congregation to take up the matter can hardly be denied, for although the matter was one of natural sciences, yet, by introducing theology and Scripture, it had assumed the character of theology and exegesis. Galileo personally was dealt with very leniently. During the discussions of 1616 he was never cited before the bar of the Inquisition, nor was his exterior freedom in any way restricted. Only one thing was done: he was cautioned by Cardinal Bellarmin, “by order of the Holy Congregation,” not to adhere to, nor teach any longer, the Copernican theory. The documents of the case say that “Galileo submitted to this order and promised to obey.” The Congregation of the Index prohibited, March 5, 1616, all books defending the Copernican theory, declaring the doctrine to be against Holy Scripture. Even the work of Copernicus was prohibited donec corrigatur– until it be corrected. A decision of the year 1620 declared which passages should be corrected. They are those in which the author speaks of his theory not as an hypothesis but as of an established truth: non ex hypothesi, sed asserando. The Protestant Kepler, upon hearing this, wrote: “By their imprudent acts some have caused the work of Copernicus to be condemned, after it had been left unmolested for nearly eighty years; and the prohibition will last at least till the corrections are made. I have been assured, however, by competent authority, both ecclesiastical and civil, that the decree was not intended to put any hindrance in the way of astronomical research” (A. Mueller, J. Kepler, 1903, 105). The reproach of imprudence was intended for Galileo.

To teach the doctrine as an hypothesis was permitted even to Galileo, and this left the way clear for the development of the hypothesis, because whatever showed the usefulness of the hypothesis was sure to increase its value as a truth, but Galileo would not keep within these limits. Instead of showing in a Christian spirit a submission to Providence, which even an erring authority may demand, he openly violated his promise and disobeyed the command he had received. In the spring of 1632 there appeared at Florence his “Dialogue on the two most important systems of the world.” It contained an open, though by no means victorious, defence of the Copernican system – seeking to hide under a confidence-inspiring mask. It contained many passages of caustic sarcasm, with the evident intention of arousing public opinion against the attitude of the Roman Congregations. It was a flagrant violation of the command given him personally.

The Pope under whom the proceedings against Galileo took place was Urban VIII., who, when a Cardinal, had followed Galileo's discoveries with enthusiasm, though never partial to the system of Copernicus, and, in accord with the custom of the age, he had written an ode to Galileo.

Cited to Rome, Galileo came only after repeated urging, on February 14, 1633. The story of his having been imprisoned and tortured on this second visit to Rome is false. Galileo wrote on April 16 of that year: “I live in an apartment of three rooms, belonging to the Fiscal of the Inquisition, and am free to move in many rooms. My health is good.” This stay in the apartment belonging to the Inquisition lasted but twenty-two days; after that Galileo was allowed to live in the palace of the Ambassador of Tuscany. During his whole life Galileo was never even for an hour in a real prison.

Galileo's demeanour before the Inquisition bespeaks little truthfulness and manliness. It makes a painful impression. Many other events in his life cast dark shades of insincerity upon his character, especially his relations with Kepler. While in his dialogue he openly defended the truth of the Copernican system, while he had written, time and again, that the theory had been demonstrated by “forceful, convincing arguments,” whereas nothing but insignificant reasons could be pleaded for the contrary, he now assumes the attitude before the Inquisition of denying that he had championed that theory, at least not consciously; that he had never taught that doctrine otherwise than hypothetically. And this he asserts although he had taken the oath to say nothing but the truth. We even hear him declare that he considers the doctrine to be false, and that he was ready to refute it at once.

The judges were convinced of the untruthfulness of the defendant. In those times, in order to obtain further confessions, especially when the accused had been previously convicted of guilt, torture was resorted to. This regrettable practice was then in vogue at every European court; the Inquisition, too, had adopted it, but strict rules were laid down to guard against abuses. Very old persons were exempt from the rack; they were only threatened with it. This happened also in Galileo's case, he was never actually put on the rack. Moreover, one can safely presume that this threat did not terrify him much. His reading must have enlightened him on this point, and even without it he must have known the practice by his active intercourse with those theologians of the Curia who were friendly to him. In fact, he clung obstinately to his denial, to the very end of the hearing, although it must be surmised that he would not have aggravated his case by confession. The commissioner of Inquisition, Macolano, at the first stages of the trial had expressed his hope that in this event “it would be possible to show indulgence to the guilty, and whatever the result might be, he would realize the benefit received, apart from all other consequences to be expected from a desired mutual satisfaction” (Letter to Cardinal Fr. Barberini, April 28, 1633).

On June 22 the final verdict was rendered: it told the defendant: “Thou art convicted by the Holy Congregation of being suspected of heresy, to wit, to have held for true, and believed in, a false theory, contrary to Holy Writ – which makes the sun the centre of the orbit of the earth, without moving from east to west, and which lets the earth, on the other hand, move outside the centre of the world, and to have believed that an opinion may be considered probable and be defended, though it had been expressly declared to be contrary to the Scripture.” Galileo was declared suspect of heresy, because, in the opinion of the judges, he had assumed that a doctrine in contradiction to the Scriptures might be defended. Galileo retracted by oath. That upon retraction he arose and exclaimed, stamping with his foot, “Pur si muove!” (“and yet it does move!”) is a fable. He was sentenced to be jailed in the Holy Office. But already the next day he was allowed to go to the palace of the Grand Duke of Tuscany and to consider that palace his prison. Soon after he departed for Siena, “in the best of health,” according to the report of the Tuscan ambassador, Niccolini, and there took up his abode with his friend the Archbishop Piccolomini. After a lapse of five months he was allowed to return to his villa at Arcetri, near Florence, where he remained, with the exception of occasional visits to Florence, till his death. Two of his daughters were nuns in the nearby cloister of S. Matteo. His literary activity was not suppressed by the surveillance of the Inquisition. His lively and fertile mind, cut off from polemics, turned to the completion of his researches in other directions. His lively intercourse with friends and disciples, of whom many belonged to various Orders, proved beneficial to him. In the year 1638 he published his “Dialogue on the New Sciences,” which he rightly pronounced to be his best effort, and by which he became the founder of dynamics. His productiveness continued until he became blind.

We may say without fear of contradiction that, apart from their theoretical error, the Roman Congregations had shown the greatest indulgence towards one guilty of having broken his pledge, and doubtless they would have been still more lenient had Galileo, confirmed by flattering friends in his anger at the supposed intrigues of his enemies, not himself made this impossible; if he had not continued to propagate secretly his views, verbally and in writing, which was bound to be discovered. Considering all this, Rome's proceeding in the case appears to be quite indulgent. Here the position was taken that the spread of the doctrine would mean an imminent danger to the purity of the faith. The unfortunate scientist died on January 8, 1642, at the age of seventy-eight years, fortified by the holy Sacraments. Urban VIII. sent him his blessing. Undoubtedly Galileo had nothing in common with the champions of that unbelieving freedom of science, which now tries to lift him upon its shield; notwithstanding his later bitterness he remained to his death steadfast in his Catholic faith.