complied with his request. Mocenigo led the way to the other side of the palace, that farthest from the water, and then ascending the stairs opened the door of an attic. He drew aside to let Bruno pass him into the room, and then, without having himself crossed the threshold, turned round, closed the door, and locked it outside. When the prisoner was secure, this man, who had thus outraged every law of honour and hospitality, returned to the philosopher's room, and taking possession of all his effects, his books, his MSS., and papers, sent them instantly to the Inquisition. The next night at the same hour Bruno was transferred to the dungeons of the Inquisition.

In 1592 Galileo made his entrance at Padua as professor and teacher in the University. In the same year Bruno was thrust into the dungeons of the Inquisition at Venice previous to being transferred to Rome, where his execution preceded Galileo's trial by thirty-four years. Campanella's trial, tortures, and death, were fifteen years later than Bruno's, and took place at Naples. These dates are suggestive. In the twenty years which elapsed between Campanella's trial and Galileo's, some consciousness of weakness was felt, or some progress in humanity had been made, or no abjuration would have saved him.

Bruno's trial commenced. It was conducted with great apparent moderation. Mocenigo's monstrous accusations he denied utterly, and then proceeded to give a list of all his works to his judges. He discussed with them some of his so-called heretical tenets with a calmness of reasoning and a clearness of exposition which made him appear rather in the light of a Professor giving a lecture than a criminal on trial for his life.

Bruno made a clean breast of all he believed and disbelieved without modification or concealment. He said that undoubtedly his phi

losophy and the inferences to be drawn from it were contrary to the tenets of the Roman Catholic apostolic faith, but that he had never taught or written in direct opposition to it or to uphold any other. It was true that he carried the doctrine of immanence to the extent of placing final as well as formal causes inherently in matter; that he believed the universe was composed of an infinite number of worlds, that these worlds are similar to our own; that the universe is governed by a law which he called Providence, in virtue of which all creatures live and move and have their being; that God, or Providence, has three attributesMind, Intellect, Love-so that all things have first their being by reason of mind, then their order and distinct succession by reason of intellect, then their concord and symmetry by reason of love; that the word Creator signifies the everrenewed and renewing dependence of the universe on the first Cause. This first Cause he defined as: A God not outside Creation, but the soul of souls, the monarch of monarchs, living, eternal, infinite, immanent. In the part, as in the whole, is God. Tutto e in tutto. Come l'unità si trova in tutti i numeri infiniti, cosi l'essere in tutte le cose. E questo può far tutto, non solo in universale ma anche in particolare. Essendo tutte le cose per la sostanza dell' essere, che hanno, sono ordinate e proviste. Tutto, quantunque minimo, è sotto infinita providenza, perchè le cose grandi sono composte delle piccole.'

He confessed he doubted of the Incarnation; the Word by philosophers being considered the intellect, the offspring of the mind: the third person of the Trinity, the Holy Spirit, he considered as the soul of the universe; and he quoted in support of this, the words of Solomon, 'The Spirit of the Lord shall fill the whole earth,' &c.

The examinations were tedious and prolonged, with lapses of months between them. The yet unquenched hope of freedom, the eager aspiration to live and to be permitted to learn more and more, induced Bruno to seek to be reconciled to his judges by recanting whatever in these beliefs seemed contrary to the dogmas enforced by the Church. He acted on the same principle as Galileo did some years afterwards under similar circumstances. Before we condemn either of these men, let us place ourselves in their position and in that of many another martyr who, like Cranmer, from a temporary weakness, afterwards gloriously overcome, yielded for awhile to persecution and tyranny. In Bruno's case there was added a traditional feeling of loyalty to the views of his youth. Three times had he endeavoured to renew his connection with the Order which now disowned him—in Milan, at Toulouse, and in Paris.

What would have been the conduct of the Venetian Inquisition if left to themselves it is difficult to conjecture, but the enquiries made by Mocenigo's confessor had brought their fruit. Bruno was a renegade monk, the three early trials were evoked to identify him, and Rome claimed him. At first there was a hesitation in Venice as to the propriety of giving him up. It was an unwise precedent thus to concede to the jurisdiction of Rome.1

The latent antagonism to Rome, to be afterwards so wrought upon by Sarpi, was partially roused; but Venice, not being at this precise moment ready for the struggle, considered it politic to keep terms with the Pope by the sacrifice of one

poor life. The Council resolved that Bruno should be transferred to Rome. This was done, but with what would now be called a recommendation to mercy; that is, Giordano Bruno was given up to his ecclesiastical superiors with the order that every respect consistent with his safe keeping should be shown to so remarkable and learned

a man.

When Bruno reached Rome he must have felt that all was over. Work, study, composition, tuition, lectures, all were finished. With men (actively) he had nothing more to do; henceforth all that remained was passively to endure the pitiless patience of his judges. But by this time his mind was roused from the demoralisation produced by alternate hope and fear. The actual result of a life of noble pursuit and unwearied application became apparent. All vacillation ceased, and he took his stand on the indefeasible right of a man to think for himself.

Seven years were passed by him in the dungeons of the Inquisition.2 His printed works and his MSS. were examined one by one. He was tortured to make him confess intentions where there was nothing reprehensible in words. His free and ample confessions in Venice were united to the former trials, the one during his novitiate, the one during his early priest's life, the one projected in Rome before he commenced his brilliant and wandering career, and the circle was complete. The heresy which seemed the most abominable to his judges was that which concerned a plurality of worlds. Hitherto there had been no inference of heresy from it, but the Roman Catholic hierarchy was beginning to understand the soli

darity between all intellectual developments. There had been, up to this time, a theological astronomy; an astronomical theology was dreaded. The Copernican system held in itself the germ of a plurality of heresies, and the heresies of Bruno contained, as in a calyx, the heresies of Galileo, Campanella, and tutti quanti.

Bruno was condemned.

The sentence was pronounced in the Church of Sta. Maria sopra Minerva - the spot where in these days Tenerani's Angel of the Resurrection waits in sculptured beauty, as if listening to the last trump which is to set straight distorted wills and rectify all false judgments.

There was assembled in the year of the jubilee, 1600, in the month of February, one of the most imposing tribunals which were ever gathered together for the purpose of sentencing a heretic. The supreme members of the Holy Office, the commissioners, the assessors,

1 The Church of his Order.

the council, the Doctors of Law and of Divinity, the secular magistrates and the Governor of Rome, S.P.Q.R., all those who had been brought to Rome allured by the magnificence of the festivals, and to whom this also was part of the splendid programme.

Before them stood a man (if we are to trust the portrait prefixed by Wagner to his edition of his works) of slight and slender presence, wasted and pale, thoughtful and sad, with dark eyes of mingled melancholy and ardour, and noble, regular features. Something of Greek grace, something of Neapolitan fire, gave him an air of striking and attractive command.

As he turned from his judges, bold, calm, and prophetic, he let fall these words, which across the gulf of time echo proudly on our ears: 'You are more afraid to pronounce my sentence than I to receive it.'

Eight days afterwards Bruno was burnt at the stake.2