Galileo and His Judges

by F. R. Wegg-Prosser

In the case of Galileo, it is true that the opinion given in 1616 by the Qualifiers of the Inquisition was a doctrinal one; the action taken upon the strength of that opinion by the Pope in desiring Cardinal Bellarmine to admonish Galileo, as well as by the Congregation of the Index in prohibiting certain books, was simply disciplinary.[5]

It remains for us to inquire what was the value of the decree of the Index on certain works, written in favour of the new astronomical doctrines, as appreciated by contemporary feeling and opinion. We naturally find that there were two views on the subject: one of those who wished to magnify the effect of the decision, and one of those who desired to minimise it.

Galileo himself said that his opinion had not been accepted by the Church, which, however, had only declared that it was not in conformity with Holy Scripture; from which it followed that only books attempting ex professo to prove that the opinion is not contrary to Scripture were prohibited. Whether Galileo was right or wrong in his estimate of the scope of the decree, it seems evident that he considered the whole matter as a question merely of discipline.

It is said that Father Melchior Inchofer, S.J. (afterwards one of the Consultors of the Holy Office), endeavoured to prove that the decision proceeded from the Pope speaking ex cathedrâ. Mr. Roberts gives a quotation to that effect from a work of Professor Berti; the original, however, does not appear, and is probably not now extant.

Mr. Roberts also quotes Caramuel, “the acute casuist,” who, in answer to the supposed objection that the Copernican theory might hereafter be shown to be true, says that it is impossible that the Earth should hereafter be proved demonstratively to be in motion; if such an impossibility be admitted, other impossible and absurd things would follow.

Caramuel, however great as a theologian, was evidently not endowed with much scientific foresight. But he is not wholly wrong, for it has never yet been possible to prove by absolute demonstration the motion of the Earth.

One of the most important witnesses on the point we are here considering is Cardinal Bellarmine, who was a very zealous anti-Copernican, and had probably a great share (perhaps the principal share) in bringing about the practical condemnation of Galileo’s opinions in 1616. So far as I know, the only explicit statement bearing on the question that we have of Bellarmine’s, is a letter to the Carmelite Father Foscarini, dated April 1, 1615, though he has been quoted as if he had expressed the opinion stated in the letter at a later date. Mr. Roberts takes exception to the inference drawn from this letter because it was written before the decree of the Index, and we may add, about seven months before the referring of Galileo’s writings to the Consultors of the Inquisition.

Now we may admit that there would be some force in this argument if Cardinal Bellarmine, instead of being what he was, had been a private individual, having nothing to do but to listen submissively to what his ecclesiastical superiors decided, whether in doctrine or discipline. He was, however, one of the most trusted advisers of the Pope; he had no small share in bringing about the censure of the Copernican theory, such as it was; and it is almost certain that at the time when he wrote the letter he foresaw that some proceedings of that nature would follow, if indeed the proceedings had not already begun. We have no sort of intimation that he ever afterwards changed his opinion, and the way in which he was quoted by subsequent writers points to this conclusion. I have thought it better to answer the objection made by Mr. Roberts before stating what Bellarmine’s letter contains. I must leave my readers to judge the value of the argument. All I say is, that my own belief is that Cardinal Bellarmine’s opinion, as recorded in this letter to Father Foscarini, represents his permanent judgment. It is a most curious letter, and is a singular illustration of the danger that a man, however able and learned, may incur by attempting to grapple with subjects of which he knows absolutely nothing. Bellarmine, when writing on theological or controversial subjects, though he might make an occasional mistake, was one of the clearest, ablest, and (may one not add?) fairest of writers; but on a subject such as this, some of his reasoning strikes us as very curious.

The substance of it is as follows: After admitting that so long as the Copernican doctrine is stated hypothetically, “ex suppositione,” there is no objection whatever to it, he goes on to say that to state it positively and as a reality is contrary to the principle laid down by the Council (i.e. of Trent), that Scripture should not be interpreted contrary to the common consent of the Fathers; and, he added, not only that, but the universal opinions of modern commentators. In answer to the objection that it is not a matter of faith, he says: “if it is not so ex parte objecti, it is so ex parte dicentis,” meaning apparently that a man who impugned the truth of the Scriptural narrative in any respect would be heretical. Then follows the paragraph which has given occasion to quote the letter, and it is to this effect:[6] When there shall be a real demonstration that the Sun stands in the centre of the universe, and that the Earth revolves round it, it will then be necessary to proceed with great consideration in explaining those passages of Scripture which seem to be contrary to it, and rather to say that we do not understand them, than say that a thing which is demonstrated is false. But for his own part, until it had been shown to him, he would not believe there could be any such demonstration, for it was one thing to prove that if the hypothesis were true all things would appear as they actually do, and another thing to prove that such is actually the fact; and in case of doubt one ought not to leave the interpretation of Scripture as given by the Fathers. Then comes what is really an extraordinary argument, as we modern thinkers would view it. The text, “The sun arises and sets, and returns to his own place,” was written by Solomon, who was not only inspired by God, but was also the wisest and most learned of mankind in human sciences, and in the knowledge of created things, and it was not likely he could be wrong. Nor was it sufficient to say that Solomon speaks according to appearances; for though in some cases erroneous impressions, arising from appearances, can be corrected by observation and experience, it is quite otherwise as regards the motion of the Earth.

It is certainly remarkable that it does not appear to strike Bellarmine that the Fathers and commentators, not having this question before them, naturally interpreted Scripture according to the ideas generally entertained in their day. While to suppose that, because Solomon wrote certain inspired works, and, moreover, was a great naturalist—the greatest of his day—he was, therefore, infallible in his personal views on astronomy, shows a state of mind so different from what we find amongst even non-scientific men in our own day, that we are almost startled and bewildered when we meet with it. The truth, however, is that Bellarmine was a sort of link between the mediæval and modern thinkers; in theology and controversy, and in appreciation of the change that had taken place in Europe owing to the religious revolution of the preceding century, in all that, he was, I imagine, in advance of his age; in physical science he was a simple mediævalist. But it was not for some time that even able men came to recognise the principle that in the search for truth, so far as the works of Nature are concerned, the opinions of the ancients and the traditions of forefathers count but for little; and observation and experiment are the true and only key to knowledge. It is otherwise, of course, with theology and kindred studies; and it required some mental grasp, or in default of that it required a long, very long, experience before the human mind drew the distinction between the two.