the care of the Spirit of Truth, it was Urban VIII in all this
matter.

Herein was one of the greatest pieces of ill fortune that has ever
befallen the older Church. Had Pope Urban been broad-minded and tolerant
like Benedict XIV, or had he been taught moderation by adversity like
Pius VII, or had he possessed the large scholarly qualities of Leo XIII,
now reigning, the vast scandal of the Galileo case would never have
burdened the Church: instead of devising endless quibbles and special
pleadings to escape responsibility for this colossal blunder, its
defenders could have claimed forever for the Church the glory of
fearlessly initiating a great epoch in human thought.

But it was not so to be. Urban was not merely Pope; he was also a prince
of the house of Barberini, and therefore doubly angry that his arguments
had been publicly controverted.

The opening strategy of Galileo's enemies was to forbid the sale of his
work; but this was soon seen to be unavailing, for the first edition had
already been spread throughout Europe. Urban now became more angry than
ever, and both Galileo and his works were placed in the hands of the
Inquisition. In vain did the good Benedictine Castelli urge that Galileo
was entirely respectful to the Church; in vain did he insist that
"nothing that can be done can now hinder the earth from revolving."
He was dismissed in disgrace, and Galileo was forced to appear in the
presence of the dread tribunal without defender or adviser. There, as
was so long concealed, but as is now fully revealed, he was menaced with
torture again and again by express order of Pope Urban, and, as is also
thoroughly established from the trial documents themselves, forced to
abjure under threats, and subjected to imprisonment by command of
the Pope; the Inquisition deferring in this whole matter to the papal
authority. All the long series of attempts made in the supposed interest
of the Church to mystify these transactions have at last failed. The
world knows now that Galileo was subjected certainly to indignity, to
imprisonment, and to threats equivalent to torture, and was at last
forced to pronounce publicly and on his knees his recantation, as
follows:

"I, Galileo, being in my seventieth year, being a prisoner and on my
knees, and before your Eminences, having before my eyes the Holy Gospel,
which I touch with my hands, abjure, curse, and detest the error and the
heresy of the movement of the earth."(63)