The Grand Duke in this letter expresses his surprise that a book which had been laid before the supreme authorities at Rome by the author in person, had been carefully read there again and again, as well as afterwards at Florence, and at the author’s request had been altered as seemed good to the authorities, and had finally received the imprimatur both there and here, should now after two years be considered suspicious and be prohibited. The astonishment of his Highness was the greater, because he knew that neither of the main opinions treated of were positively confirmed, but only the reasons for and against brought together; and this was done, as his Highness knew for certain, for the benefit of the Holy Church itself, in order that on subjects which in their nature are difficult to understand, those with whom the decision rests may see, with less expenditure of time and trouble, on which side the truth lies, and bring it into agreement with Holy Scripture. The Grand Duke was of opinion that this opposition must be directed rather against the person of the author than against his book, or this or that opinion, ancient or modern. In order, however, to convince himself of the merits or misdemeanours of his servant, his Highness desires that that which is granted in all disputes and before all tribunals should be permitted to him,—to defend himself against his accusers. The Grand Duke therefore urges that the accusations brought against the work, which have caused it to be prohibited, may be sent here for the author, who stands firmly on his innocence, to see them. He is so convinced that all this originates in the calumnies of envious and malicious persecutors, that he has offered his sovereign to leave the country and renounce his favour unless he can palpably prove how pious and sincere his sentiments on these subjects have always been and still are. The letter concludes with the commission, by the Grand Duke’s orders, to take the necessary steps towards the fulfilment of his most reasonable request.[284]
On the same day on which this despatch went off, a mandate was issued from Rome, which not only confirmed the provisional prohibition of the “Dialogues,” but requested Landini to send all the copies in stock to Rome. He replied that all the copies had been delivered to the purchasers.
Niccolini on receipt of the Grand Duke’s order hastened to carry it out, but met with more bitter and obstinate opposition than either he or the Tuscan court had expected. On 4th September, when the ambassador was about to execute his mission at the Vatican, the Pope met him bluntly with the words: “Your Galileo has ventured to meddle with things that he ought not, and with the most important and dangerous subjects which can be stirred up in these days.” Niccolini remarked that the philosopher had not published his work without the approval of the Church, to which the Pope angrily rejoined that Galileo and Ciampoli had deceived him, especially Ciampoli, who had dared to tell him that Galileo would be entirely guided by the papal commands, and that it was all right; he had not either seen or read the work, and this was all he had known about it. His Holiness then made bitter complaints against the Master of the Palace, adding, however, that he had been deceived himself, for he had been enticed by fair speeches to approve the book, and by more fair speeches to allow it to be printed at Florence, without at all complying with the form prescribed by the Inquisitor, and with the name of the Roman censor of the press, who had nothing whatever to do with works which did not appear at Rome. Niccolini then ventured to say, that he knew that a special congregation was appointed to try this affair, and as it might happen (as was the case) that there might be persons on it unfavourable to Galileo, he humbly petitioned that Galileo might have an opportunity of justifying himself. Urban answered curtly: “In these affairs of the Holy Office, nothing is ever done but to pronounce judgment, and then summon to recant.” “Does it not then appear to your Holiness,” answered the ambassador, “that Galileo should be informed beforehand of the objections to, scruples and criticisms respecting his book, and of the points to which the Holy Office takes exception?” “The Holy Office,” replied the Pope, angrily, “as I told you before, does not proceed in that way, and does not take that course, nor does it ever give such information beforehand: it is not the custom. Besides, Galileo knows well enough what the objections are, if he only chooses to know, because we have talked to him about it, and he has heard them all from ourself.” Niccolini now urged that the work was dedicated to the Grand Duke, and written by one of his most eminent servants; he hoped, therefore, that Galileo would be treated with indulgence. Urban replied that he had even prohibited books dedicated to himself, and that in matters where it was a question of endangering religion, the Grand Duke also was bound, as a Christian prince, to co-operate in enforcing penalties. Niccolini had therefore better write plainly to his Highness that he (the Pope) warned him not to meddle with things which he could not come out of with honour. The undaunted ambassador now expressed his conviction that his Holiness would not allow them to go so far as entirely to prohibit the book, which had received sanction, without at least hearing Galileo. But Urban replied, that this was the least that could happen to him, and he had better take care that he was not summoned before the Holy Office. The Pope then assured Niccolini that the preliminary commission was composed of theologians and men well versed in science, all grave and pious men, who would weigh every particular, word for word, for it was a question of the most godless business which could ever be discussed. He also charged the ambassador to tell his sovereign that the doctrine was in the highest degree sinful; everything would be maturely considered; his Highness had better not interfere, and must be on his guard. In conclusion, the Pope not only imposed the strictest secrecy on Niccolini as to what he had been told, but desired that the Grand Duke also should be charged to keep the secret, adding that he “had acted with great consideration for Galileo, by having impressed upon him what he knew before, and by not referring his affairs, as he ought to have done, to the Holy Office, but to a specially-appointed congregation.” Urban added the bitter remark that his behaviour towards Galileo had been far better than Galileo’s towards him, for he had deceived him.
In the narration of the whole of this interesting conversation between the Pope and the Tuscan ambassador, we have given an almost literal translation of the Italian original of Niccolini’s report of it to Cioli, of 5th September, 1632.[285] Urban’s last angry expression caused Niccolini to remark in his despatch that he found “ill will here too; and as for the Pope, he could not be more against poor Galileo than he was.” He then said that he had communicated Cioli’s letter of 24th August to the Master of the Palace, and that Riccardi thought they would hardly condemn the “Dialogues” altogether, but only alter some passages which really were objectionable. He had also offered, as far as he could do so without incurring censure or transgressing rules, to inform the ambassador at once of what was going to be done, adding however, that he must be cautious, for he had already felt the lash in this matter. He then complained that they had not acted in accordance with his letter to the Inquisitor, that the introduction was printed in different type from the rest of the work, and that the conclusion did not agree with the introduction. Towards the end of the despatch, Niccolini says that “it will be better to act without any temper in this business, and rather to negotiate with the ministers and Cardinal Barberini than with the Pope himself, because he obstinately persists that it is a hopeless case, and if you dispute it, or threaten anything, or are defiant, his Holiness lets fall hard words and has no respect for anybody.”
The conclusion of Cioli’s reply of 19th September to this ominous despatch of Niccolini’s gives us an insight into the attitude which the Tuscan Government, even at that time, desired to assume towards the papal chair in this unfortunate business. Cioli writes:—
“His Highness has heard the letters of your excellency of the 4th and 5th, and by this affair of Signor Mariano and that of Signor Galileo he was placed in so much difficulty that I do not know how it will be. I know well that his Holiness will never have to blame the ministers for giving bad advice.”[286]
Two letters from Count Magalotti,[287] who was usually well informed, arrived almost at the same time as this despatch. Both bear the date of 4th September; one is to Mario Guiducci, the other to Galileo, who in a letter of 23rd August, which is lost, had expressed his anxiety to Magalotti lest his work should be pronounced suspicious, and the Copernican doctrine condemned as heretical by the authorities. Magalotti’s news was, on the whole, reassuring. According to the opinions of persons who are generally present at the sittings of the Congregation of the Holy Office, he thought he could assure Galileo that it would never go so far as for the Copernican system to be condemned by the supreme authority.[288] He thought, with Riccardi, that they would not entirely prohibit the “Dialogues,” but only correct them, so as to sustain the decree of 5th March, 1616. He also urgently advised, like Niccolini, that they should arm themselves with the utmost patience, and rather confer with Cardinal Barberini than with Urban, “for reasons which it is not necessary to discuss here.”
Neither Galileo himself, nor Magalotti, nor his other friends, ever thought of any personal danger to him; Niccolini and the Grand Duke might perhaps have been more sharp-sighted, but they were bound to silence. The threads, however, of this great intrigue can only be disentangled by the later historian, who has watched the progress of the whole melancholy drama. Two facts are perfectly obvious to the attentive observer: the first, that at Rome, with the Pope at their head, they were determined to bring Galileo to trial before the Inquisition; and the second, that they did not yet clearly see how it was to be done with some shadow of justice. To find this out was the real purpose of the appointment of the special congregation, which Urban had boasted of as a signal act of forbearance towards Galileo. All the objections to the book were subjects rather for accusation against the censors who had sanctioned it than against the author, who had submitted it to them, altered it, and again submitted the alterations. The responsibility for the publication really rested not with the author, but with those who had sanctioned it. The Pope’s accusation, however, that Galileo had coaxed them to give the permission by fair speeches, was too indefinite to institute a trial upon, and neither did the irregular quotation of the imprimatur of the Master of the Palace, nor the typographical difference between the preface and the rest of the book offer sufficient ground for a legal prosecution. In this difficult case, therefore, it required all the Romish craft and legal sophistry at command, to find a pretext for bringing Galileo to trial before the Inquisition, which should, at any rate according to Romish principles, justify it in the eyes of the world.
The preliminary commission appointed by Urban VIII. was to perform this by no means easy task in brilliant style. It was certainly very much lightened by a discovery in the acts of the trial of Galileo in 1616, which was evidently a surprise to them—the note of 26th February, 1616.