The Warfare of Science

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.

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

But the losses to the earth in the long war against Galileo were followed by losses not less unfortunate in other quarters. There was then in Europe one of the greatest thinkers ever given to mankind—Réné Descartes. Mistaken though many of his theories were, they were fruitful in truths. The scientific warriors had stirred new life in him, and he was working over and summing up in his mighty mind all the researches of his time; the result must make an epoch in history. His aim was to combine all knowledge and thought into a "Treatise on the World." His earnestness he proved by the eleven years which he gave to the study of anatomy alone. Petty persecution he had met often, but the fate of Galileo robbed him of all hope, of all energy; the battle seemed lost; he gave up his great plan forever. 70

But champions pressed on. Campanella, full of vagaries as he was, wrote his Apologia pro Galileo, though for that and other heresies, religious and political, he seven times underwent torture. 71

And Kepler comes. He leads science on to greater victories. Kopernik, great as he was, could not disentangle his scientific reasoning entirely from the theological bias. The doctrines of Aristotle and Thomas Aquinas as to the necessary superiority of the circle, had vitiated the minor features of his system, and left breaches in it through which the enemy was not slow to enter. Kepler sees these errors, and, by wonderful genius in insight and vigor in thought, he brings to the world the three laws which bear his name, and this fortress of science is complete. He thinks and speaks as one inspired. His battle is severe; he is sometimes abused, sometimes ridiculed, sometimes imprisoned. Protestants in Styria and at Tübingen, Catholics at Rome, press upon him; 72 but Newton, Halley, Bradley, and the other great leaders follow, and to science remains the victory.

And yet the war did not wholly end. During the seventeenth century, in all France, after all the splendid proofs added by Kepler, no one dared openly teach the Copernican theory, and Cassini, the great astronomer, never declared it. 73 In 1672 Father Riccioli, a Jesuit, declared that there were precisely forty-nine arguments for the Copernican theory and seventy-seven against it; so that there remained twenty-eight reasons for preferring the orthodox theory. 74 Toward the end of the seventeenth century, after the demonstration of Sir Isaac Newton, even Bossuet, the "eagle of Meaux," among the loftiest of religious thinkers, declared for the Ptolemaic theory as the Scriptural theory; 75 and in 1724 John Hutchinson published in England his Moses's Principia, maintaining that the Hebrew Scriptures are a perfect system of natural philosophy, and are opposed to the Newtonian theory of gravitation. 76 In 1746 Boscovich, the great mathematician of the Jesuits, used these words: "As for me, full of respect for the Holy Scriptures and the decree of the Holy Inquisition, I regard the earth as immovable; nevertheless, for simplicity in explanation, I will argue as if the earth moves, for it is proved that of the two hypotheses the appearances favor that idea." 77 And even at a date far within our own nineteenth century, the authorities of the Spanish universities vigorously excluded the Newtonian system, and the greatest of them all, the University of Salamanca, held it under the ban until a very recent period. 78

Nor has the opposition failed even in our own time. On the 5th of May, 1829, a great multitude assembled at Warsaw, to do honor to the memory of Kopernik, and to unveil Thorwaldsen's statue of him.

Kopernik had lived a pious, Christian life. He was well known for unostentatious Christian charity. With his religious belief no fault had ever been found; he was a canon of the church of Frauenberg, and over his grave had been written the most touching of Christian epitaphs.

Naturally, then, the people expected a religious service. All was understood to be arranged for it. The procession marched to the church and waited. The hour passed, and no priest appeared; none could be induced to appear. Kopernik, simple, charitable, pious, one of the noblest gifts of God to the service of religion as well as science, was still held to be a reprobate. Five years after that, his book was still standing on the Index of books prohibited to Christians; and although, in 1757, under Benedict XIV., the Congregation of the Index had secretly allowed the ideas of Kopernik and Galileo to be simply tolerated, it was not until 1822, as we have seen, that Pius VII. allowed the publishing of them at Rome; and not until 1835 did the prohibition of them fully disappear from the Index. 79

The Protestantism of England was little better. In 1772 sailed the famous English expedition for scientific discovery under Cook. The greatest by far of all the scientific authorities chosen to accompany it was Dr. Priestley. Sir Joseph Banks had especially invited him; but the clergy of Oxford and Cambridge intervened. Priestley was considered unsound in his views of the Trinity; it was suspected that this would vitiate his astronomical observations; he was rejected, and the expedition crippled. 80

Nor has the warfare against dead champions of science been carried on only by the older Church.

On the 10th of May, 1859, was buried Alexander von Humboldt. His labors were among the greatest glories of the century, and his funeral one of the most imposing that Berlin had ever seen; among those who honored themselves by their presence was the prince regent—the present emperor. But of the clergy it was observed that none were present save the officiating clergyman and a few regarded as unorthodox. 81

Nor have attempts to renew the battle been wanting in these latter days. The attempt in the Church of England, in 1864, to fetter science, which was brought to ridicule by Herschel, Bowring, and De Morgan; the Lutheran assemblage at Berlin, in 1868, to protest against "science falsely so called," in the midst of which stood Pastor Knak denouncing the Copernican theory; the "Syllabus," the greatest mistake of the Roman Church, are all examples of this. 82

And now, what has been won by either party in this long and terrible war? The party which would subordinate the methods and aims of science to those of theology, though in general obedient to deep convictions, had given to Christianity a series of the worst blows it had ever received. They had made large numbers of the best men in Europe hate it. Why did Ricetto and Bruno and Vanini, when the crucifix was presented to them in their hours of martyrdom, turn from that blessed image with loathing? 83 Simply because Christianity had been made to them identical with the most horrible oppression of the mind.

Worse than that, the well-meaning defenders of the faith had wrought into the very fibre of the European heart that most unfortunate of all ideas, the idea that there is a necessary antagonism between science and religion. Like the landsman who lashes himself to the anchor of the sinking ship, they had attached the fundamental doctrines of Christianity, by the strongest cords of logic which they could spin, to these mistaken ideas in science, and the advance of knowledge had wellnigh engulfed them.

On the other hand, what had science done for religion? Simply this: Kopernik, escaping persecution only by death; Giordano Bruno, burned alive as a monster of impiety; Galileo, imprisoned and humiliated as the worst of misbelievers; Kepler, hunted alike by Protestant and Catholic, had given to religion great new foundations, great new, ennobling conceptions, a great new revelation of the might of God.

Under the old system we have that princely astronomer, Alfonso of Castile, seeing the poverty of the Ptolemaic system, yet knowing no other, startling Europe with the blasphemy that if he had been present at creation he could have suggested a better ordering of the heavenly bodies. Under the new system you have Kepler, filled with a religious spirit, exclaiming, "I do think the thoughts of God." 84 The difference in religious spirit between these two men marks the conquest made in this, even by science, for religion.

But we cannot leave the subject of astronomy without noticing the most recent warfare. Especially interesting is it because at one period the battle seemed utterly lost, and then was won beautifully, thoroughly, by a legitimate advance in scientific knowledge. I speak of the Nebular Hypothesis.

The sacred writings of the Jews which we have inherited speak literally of the creation of the heavenly bodies by direct intervention, and for the convenience of the earth. This was the view of the Fathers of the Church, and was transmitted through the great doctors in theology.

More than that, it was crystallized in art. So have I seen, over the portal of the Cathedral of Freiburg, a representation of the Almighty making and placing numbers of wafer-like suns, moons, and stars; and at the centre of all, platter-like and largest of all, the earth. 85 The lines on the Creator's face show that He is obliged to contrive; the lines of his muscles show that He is obliged to toil. Naturally, then, did sculptors and painters of the mediæval and early modern period represent the Almighty as weary after labor, and enjoying dignified repose.

These ideas, more or less gross in their accompaniments, passed into the popular creed of the modern period.

But about the close of the last century, Bruno having guessed the fundamental fact of the nebular hypothesis, and Kant having reasoned out its foundation idea, Laplace developed it, showing the reason for supposing that our own solar system, in its sun, planets, satellites, with their various motions, distances, and magnitudes, is a natural result of the diminishing heat of a nebulous mass—a result obeying natural laws.

There was an outcry at once against the "atheism" of the scheme. The war raged fiercely. Laplace claimed that there were in the heavens many nebulous patches yet in the gaseous form, and pointed them out. He showed by laws of physics and mathematical demonstration that his hypothesis accounted in a most striking manner for the great body of facts, and, despite clamor, was gaining ground, when the improved telescopes resolved some of the patches of nebulous matter into multitudes of stars.

The opponents of the nebular hypothesis were overjoyed; they sang pæans to astronomy, because, as they said, it had proved the truth of Scripture. They had jumped to the conclusion that all nebulæ must be alike—that if some are made up of systems of stars, all must be so made up; that none can be masses of attenuated gaseous matter, because some are not.

Science, for a time, halted. The accepted doctrine became this: that the only reason why all the nebulæ are not resolved into distinct stars is because our telescopes are not sufficiently powerful. But in time came that wonderful discovery of the spectroscope and spectrum analysis, and this was supplemented by Fraunhofer's discovery that the spectrum of an ignited gaseous body is discontinuous, with interrupting lines; and this, in 1846, by Draper's discovery that the spectrum of an ignited solid is continuous, with no interrupting lines. And now the spectroscope was turned upon the nebulæ, and about one-third of them were found to be gaseous.

Again the nebular hypothesis comes forth stronger than ever. The beautiful experiment of Plateau on the rotation of a fluid globe comes in to strengthen if not to confirm it. But what was likely to be lost in this? Simply a poor conception of the universe. What to be gained? A far more worthy idea of that vast power which works in the universe, in all things by law, and in none by caprice. 86