The professors at Pisa, with a single exception, Jacopo Mazzoni, in the chair of philosophy, were opposed to the new-comer. They were all disciples of Aristotle, and had not Galileo, when a boy among them, dared to oppose the great Grecian? And now, to make matters worse, he had taken some friends to the top of the Leaning Tower, and had put to the test the belief of two thousand years,—that the rate at which a body falls depends upon its weight. When the different weights fell to the pavement at the foot of the Leaning Tower, at the same time, the learned were astonished. If Aristotle could be wrong in one thing, he might in others, and this young man would revolutionize the teaching of the times!
The feeling became so strong against the investigator that after three years at Pisa he resigned. When will the world learn toleration for those whose opinions are different from the popular thought? From Galileo to Darwin we have persecuted the men and women whose views were unlike our own in theology, in science, or in social matters.
Through his friend, the Marquis Guidubaldo, the mathematical professorship at Padua was obtained for Galileo. He was now twenty-nine, and becoming widely known throughout Italy. His father had just died, leaving the whole family, a wife and four children, dependent upon him for support; not a small matter for an ambitious and hard-working professor.
Padua gave the young man cordial welcome. Vincenzo Pinelli, a learned nobleman, who possessed eighty thousand volumes, mentioned him to Tycho Brahe, the great Danish astronomer, as a man whom it would be well to cultivate; but the Dane was too cautious about his own reputation, and did not write Galileo till eight years later, and died the following year.
An associate of Tycho Brahe was wiser than his master, and sent Galileo his new book, "Prodromus Dissertationum Cosmographicum." A warm letter of thanks went back to the immortal John Kepler, saying: "Many years ago I became a convert to the opinions of Copernicus, and by that theory have succeeded in fully explaining many phenomena which on the contrary hypothesis are altogether inexplicable. I have drawn up many arguments and compilations of the opposite opinions, which, however, I have not hitherto dared to publish, fearful of meeting the same fate as our master Copernicus, who, although he has earned for himself immortal fame amongst the few, yet amongst the greater number appears as only worthy of hooting and derision; so great is the number of fools."
John Kepler, like Galileo, lived a pathetic life. His childhood was spent in the little beer-shop of his wretchedly poor father. At six he had a severe attack of small-pox, and his eyes were permanently weakened. He was put to the plough, but his delicate body could not bear the work. At last, through charity, he became a theological student at Tübingen. But here he began to think for himself, and, probably, would have been obliged to leave the university.
Fortunately for science, he heard some lectures given by Michael Möstlen, famous in mathematics and astronomy. A new world opened to Kepler. He applied himself with all the ardor of youth, and at twenty-two became professor of mathematics at Grätz, in Styria. He was soon driven away from this Catholic stronghold, on account of his Protestant faith. Tycho Brahe heard of his needs, and made him his assistant at Prague, with a salary of seven hundred and fifty dollars a year. This seemed regal splendor to the poor astronomer. Now he studied the heavens with hope and delight.
But sorrows soon came. His children died, his wife became insane, and died also. The salary could not be paid, on account of the religious wars which convulsed Germany. He wrote almanacs, took private pupils, and in all ways tried to support his second wife and children, while he studied the heavens year by year, discovering his three great laws. The mathematical calculations for the first law, that the planets move in elliptical orbits round the sun, which is placed at one of the foci, filled seven hundred pages. His "Harmonies of the World" contained his third great law: "The squares of the periodic times of the planets are proportioned to the cubes of their mean distances from the sun."
Such was his joy when he discovered this law, after seventeen years of labor, that he said, "I have written my book. It will be read; whether in the present age or by posterity matters little. It can wait for its readers. Has not God waited six thousand years for one to contemplate his works?" In a last fruitless attempt to recover twenty-nine thousand florins, owed him by the government, worn out with want and disappointment, he fell ill and died at Ratisbon, leaving thirty-three works, twenty-two volumes in manuscript, and his family in the direst poverty. Such was the man who admired Galileo in his youth, and who stands with him in the admiration of the generations that have come and gone since these two men lived and wrote and suffered.
At Padua, Galileo soon attracted great numbers to his class-room. Often a thousand gathered to hear his lectures, and when the hall was too cramped, he spoke to the people in the open air. He was above the middle height, well proportioned, with cheerful countenance, witty in conversation, and enthusiastic in his manner. So learned that he could repeat by heart much of the works of Virgil, Ovid, Horace, and Seneca; he was yet modest and unassuming, saying that he never met a man so ignorant but that something might be learned from him.