But this did not complete the catalogue of his discoveries.  In 1610 he perceived that Saturn appeared to be triple, and excited the curiosity of astronomers by the publication of his first “Enigma,”—­Altissimam planetam tergeminam observavi.  He could not then perceive the rings; the planet seemed through his telescope to have the form of three concentric O’s.  Soon after, in examining Venus, he saw her in the form of a crescent:  Cynthioe figuras oemulatur mater amorum,—­“Venus rivals the phases of the moon.”

At last he discovers the spots upon the sun’s disk, and that they all revolve with the sun, and therefore that the sun has a revolution in about twenty-eight days, and may be moving on in a larger circle, with all its attendant planets, around some distant centre.

Galileo has now attained the highest object of his ambition.  He is at the head, confessedly, of all the scientific men of Europe.  He has an ample revenue; he is independent, and has perfect leisure.  Even the Pope is gracious to him when he makes a visit to Rome; while cardinals, princes, and ambassadors rival one another in bestowing upon him attention and honors.

But there is no’ height of fortune from which a man may not fall; and it is usually the proud, the ostentatious, and the contemptuous who do fall, since they create envy, and are apt to make social mistakes.  Galileo continued to exasperate his enemies by his arrogance and sarcasms.  “They refused to be dragged at his chariot-wheels.”  “The Aristotelian professors,” says Brewster, “the temporizing Jesuits, the political churchmen, and that timid but respectable body who at all times dread innovation, whether it be in legislation or science, entered into an alliance against the philosophical tyrant who threatened them with the penalties of knowledge.”  The church dignitaries were especially hostile, since they thought the tendency of Galileo’s investigations was to undermine the Bible.  Flanked by the logic of the schools and the popular interpretation of Scripture, and backed by the civil power, they were eager for war.  Galileo wrote a letter to his friend the Abbe Castelli, the object of which was “to prove that the Scriptures were not intended to teach science and philosophy,” but to point out the way of salvation.  He was indiscreet enough to write a longer letter of seventy pages, quoting the Fathers in support of his views, and attempting to show that Nature and Scripture could not speak a different language.  It was this reasoning which irritated the dignitaries of the Church more than his discoveries, since it is plain that the literal language of Scripture upholds the doctrine that the sun revolves around the earth.  He was wrong or foolish in trying to harmonize revelation and science.  He should have advanced his truths of science and left them to take care of themselves.  He should not have meddled with the dogmas of his enemies:  not that he was wrong in doing so, but it was not politic or wise; and he was not called upon to harmonize Scripture with science.