e words reached his lips, although they may
have been in his mind. But we must remember the man's heart was broken,
and he was in a mental condition where nothing really mattered. To
complete his dishonor, all of his writings were placed on the "Index,"
and he was made to swear that he would inform the Inquisition of any man
whom he should hear or discover supporting the heresy of the motion of
the earth. The old man was then released, a prisoner on parole, and
allowed to make his way home to Florence, which he did by easy stages,
helped along the way by friendly monks who discussed with him all
questions but those of astronomy.

Galileo's eldest daughter, a nun, whose home was near his, was so
affected by the humiliation of her father that she fell into a nervous
decline and died very soon after he reached home.

Between these two there had been a close bond of love and tender
sympathy, and her death seemed almost the crowning calamity.

But once back in his village home at Arcetri, Galileo again went to work
with his telescope, mapping the heavens.

A goodly degree of health and animation came back to him, but his
eyesight, so long misused, now failed him and he became blind. Thus John
Milton found him in Sixteen Hundred Thirty-eight.

Castelli, his lifelong friend, wrote to another, "The noblest eye that
God ever made is darkened: the eye so privileged that it may in truth be
said to have seen more wonderful things and made others to see more
wonderful things, than were ever seen before." But blindness could not
subdue him any more than it could John Milton. He had others look
through the telescope and tell him what they saw and then he would
foretell what they would see next.

The policy of the Pope was that Galileo should not be disturbed so long
as he kept to his village home and taught merely the few scholars or
"servants," as they called themselves, who often came to him; but these
were to be taught mathematics, not astronomy. That he was even at the
last under suspicion is shown that concealed in the mattress of the bed
upon which he died were records of his latest discoveries concerning the
revolution of the planets. Legal opposition was made as to his right to
make a will, the claim being that he was a prisoner of the Inquisition
at his death. For the same reason his body was not allowed to be buried
in consecrated ground. The Pope overruled the objection and he was
buried in an obscure corner of the li