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.

In spite, then, of all the casuistry of de l'Epinois and all the special pleadings of M. Martin, the sturdy common-sense of the world proved too strong; and now comes to view the most astounding defense of all—that hinted at by Viscount de Bonald and developed in the Dublin Review. This was nothing less than an attempt to retreat under a charge of deception against the Almighty himself. The argument is as follows: "But it may well be doubted whether the Church did retard the progress of scientific truth. What retarded it, was the circumstance that God has thought fit to express many texts of Scripture in words which have every appearance of denying the earth's motion. But it is God who did this, not the Church; and, moreover, since He thought fit so to act as to retard the progress of scientific truth, it would be little to her discredit even if it were true that she had followed His example."

With this, the retreat of the army of apologists is complete; further than this, through mazes of sophistry and into depths of contempt, they could not go. [67]

Do not understand me here as casting blame on the Roman Church at large. It must in fairness be said, that some of its best men tried to stop this great mistake. Even Pope Urban himself would have been glad at one time to stop it; but the current was too strong, and he weakly yielded, becoming a bitter persecutor. [68] The whole of the civilized world was at fault, Protestant as well as Catholic, and not any particular part of it. It was not the fault of religion; it was the fault of the short-sighted views which narrow-minded, loud-voiced men are ever prone to mix in with religion, and to insist are religion. [69]