It would appear from this confession that he did not declare his doctrines false, only that they were in opposition to the Scriptures; and it is also said that as he arose from his knees he whispered to a friend, “It does move, nevertheless.”  As some excuse for him, he acted with the certainty that he would be tortured if he did not recant; and at the worst he had only affirmed that his scientific theory was in opposition to the Scriptures.  He had not denied his master, like Peter; he had not recanted the faith like Cranmer; he had simply yielded for fear of bodily torments, and therefore was not sincere in the abjuration which he made to save his life.  Nevertheless, his recantation was a fall, and in the eyes of the scientific world perhaps greater than that of Bacon.  Galileo was false to philosophy and himself.  Why did he suffer himself to be conquered by priests he despised?  Why did so bold and witty and proud a man betray his cause?  Why did he not accept the penalty of intellectual freedom, and die, if die he must?  What was life to him, diseased, infirm, and old?  What had he more to gain?  Was it not a good time to die and consummate his protests?  Only one hundred and fifty years before, one of his countrymen had accepted torture and death rather than recant his religions opinions.  Why could not Galileo have been as great in martyrdom as Savonarola?  He was a renowned philosopher and brilliant as a man of genius,—­but he was a man of the world; he loved ease and length of days.  He could ridicule and deride opponents, he could not suffer pain.  He had a great intellect, but not a great soul.  There were flaws in his morality; he was anything but a saint or hero.  He was great in mind, and yet he was far from being great in character.  We pity him, while we exalt him.  Nor is the world harsh to him; it forgives him for his services.  The worst that can be said, is that he was not willing to suffer and die for his opinions:  and how many philosophers are there who are willing to be martyrs?

Nevertheless, in the eyes of philosophers he has disgraced himself.  Let him then return to Florence, to his own Arceti.  He is a silenced man.  But he is silenced, not because he believed with Copernicus, but because he ridiculed his enemies and confronted the Church, and in the eyes of blinded partisans had attacked divine authority.  Why did Copernicus escape persecution?  The Church must have known that there was something in his discoveries, and in those of Galileo, worthy of attention.  About this time Pascal wrote:  “It is vain that you have procured the condemnation of Galileo.  That will never prove the earth to be at rest.  If unerring observation proves that it turns round, not all mankind together can keep it from turning, or themselves from turning with it.”