ments in other directions. The science of dynamics may be said to have been started by him, and he came very near to more than one great discovery for which later scientists have, earned undying glory. In his meditations on Gilbert's treatise on the magnet, for instance, the theory of gravitation does not seem far away. There is no doubt that in statics, dynamics, and hydrostatics, his work was of much more value to succeeding generations than the astronomy that brought him into such trouble.
As regards the great controversy about the Copernican system, several suggestions have been made which we find a difficulty in accepting. It has been argued that Galileo's violent support of his case, like that of a "flat-earth" enthusiast, was due to the insecurity of his convictions, the inference being that he was not satisfied himself. But surely reformers are bound to make far more noise in proportion to their numbers than those who are contented with things as they are. On the other hand, it has been argued that, being absolutely sure he was right, he ought therefore to have defied the Inquisition, daring them to punish him. Would anybody, one may be permitted to inquire, really be prepared to go to the stake in defence of the "dogma" that twice two are four? Such martyrdoms have nearly always been associated with religious persecution, and not with any scientific controversy, however acrimonious: and the ostensible ground of Galileo's trial was theological, as otherwise it would have been difficult, if not impossible, for his enemies to attack him with such disastrous effect. In just the same way had his dialectic forerunner Socrates been condemned ostensibly for "impiety," and paid the penalty with his life.
The path of one born before his time is indeed liable to be a thorny one, but those who follow reap the benefit,
