although he perceived that in all probability they were "approved or suggested by the Holy Congregation," he was far from thinking any evil, and was delighted that this officer of the Inquisition, his "old friend and patron," should "cleverly give him an opportunity of saying something by way of expressing and confirming his sincere devotedness to the holy Church and her ministers," and that he apparently listened to it all with great approval.[1] He thinks this course pursued by the Inquisition "may be taken to indicate the beginning of mild and kindly treatment, very different from the threatened cords, chains, and dungeons;"[2] indeed, while he assumes that these conferences are held at the instigation of the authorities, "and for the purpose of gaining some general information," he thankfully acknowledges "that in this case they could not proceed in any way more favourable to him or less likely to make a sensation."[3] However, in the sequel he was to discover soon enough, that they cared nothing whatever about making a sensation at Rome, and that even in this respect they did not spare him in the least.
At this period, as his letters show, Galileo was very hopeful. On 19th February he wrote to Cioli, that to all appearance the threatened storm had passed, so that he did not allow his courage to sink as if shipwreck were inevitable, and there were no hope of reaching the haven; and the more so as, obedient to his instructor, in the midst of stormy billows he—
"Was taking his course with modest sail set."[4]
This instructor was Niccolini, who strongly advised Galileo "to be always ready to obey and to submit to whatever was ordered, for this was the only way to allay the irritation of one who was so incensed, and who treated this affair as a
