Notwithstanding all the great advantages which this new post secured to him, it was a very bad exchange for Galileo from the free republican soil to the doubtful protection of a princely house which, although very well disposed towards him, could never offer so decided an opposition to the Roman curia as the republic of Venice. It was indeed the first step which precipitated Galileo’s fate.[63] In the Venetian republic full liberty of doctrine was really enjoyed, in religious Tuscany it was only nominal. In Venice politics and science were secure from Jesuitical intrigues; for when Pope Paul V. thought proper to place the contumacious republic under an interdict in April, 1606, the Jesuit fathers had been compelled to quit the soil of Venice “for ever.”[64] In Tuscany, on the contrary, where they felt quite at home, their influence weighed heavily on everything affecting their own interests, and especially therefore on politics and science. Had Galileo never left the pure, wholesome air of the free city for the stifling Romish atmosphere of a court, he would have escaped the subsequent persecutions of Rome; for the republic which, not long before, had been undaunted by the papal excommunication of their doge and senate, would assuredly never have given up one of its university professors to the vengeance of the Inquisition. At the beginning of September, 1610, Galileo, to the no small displeasure of the Paduans, left their university, at which eighteen years before he had found willing reception and support when his longer tarriance at Pisa had become impossible; deserted his noble friends, Fra Paolo Sarpi, Francesco Sagredo, and others; and proceeded to the capital of the court of Tuscany on the lovely banks of the Arno, where at first, it is true, much honour was done him, but where afterwards envy, jealousy, narrowness, ill will, and fanaticism combined together to his destruction. One of his most devoted friends, Francesco Sagredo, foresaw it. When Galileo left Venice he was in the East, in the service of the republic, and did not return till the spring of 1611, when he wrote a remarkable letter to his friend at Florence. After having heartily expressed his regret at not finding Galileo on his return home, he states his doubts about the step his friend had taken. He asks, among other things, “where will he find the same liberty as in the Venetian territory? And notwithstanding all the generous qualities of the young ruler, which permitted the hope that Galileo’s merits will be justly valued, who can promise with any confidence that, if not ruined, he may not be persecuted and disquieted on the surging billows of court life, by the raging storms of envy?” It is evident from another passage in the letter that Galileo’s behaviour had made a bad impression at Venice, where they had not long before raised his salary to a thousand florins, and conferred his professorship on him for life; towards the end of the