While Priestley and Lavoisier developed their ideas in the realm of chemistry through
experimentation, the most dramatic developments in early modern science often came
from applying mathematics and philosophical principles to the physical world. Verifi -
cation came later, sometimes much later when instruments were invented and methods
developed that would allow an idea to be tested through observation and experiment.
The prime example of this is the proposal by Nicolaus Copernicus (1473–1543), a Polish
priest, lawyer, church offi cial, painter, and astronomer, that the sun, not the earth, was
the center of the universe. Copernicus became interested in astronomy and mathematics
while he was a student, and put the two of them together in proposing a heliocentric
system, with the earth rotating on its axis while revolving around the sun, fi rst in an
anonymous treatise and then at the very end of his life in On the Revolutions of the
Heavenly Bodies (1543). Copernicus proposed this idea as a “mathematical hypothesis,”
but he clearly felt it was valid, not because he had physical proof, but because it was
far simpler than Ptolemy’s system in terms of the geometry involved in calculating
planetary motion. This desire for simplicity, reinforced by Platonic ideas about perfect
mathematical forms, meant Copernicus retained circular orbits for the planets, as the
circle was the most perfect form.
Copernicus’s work was discussed by astronomers, but it created no great stir, especially
as it also created problems – if the earth was not the center of the universe, why
did objects fall? And if it rotated, why did objects thrown into the air not land west of
where they were thrown? The Aristotelian world-view was gradually challenged by others,
however. From his observatory, Tycho Brahe saw and measured the appearance of a
supernova and a comet in the 1570s, proving that these could not be below the moon and
that the heavens did indeed change. Accepting Copernicus’s idea of a heliocentric universe
was too much for Brahe, however, and he posited a complicated double-centered
universe, with the planets traveling around the sun, and the sun, moon, and stars revolving
around a motionless earth. Using Brahe’s data, Johannes Kepler proposed in 1609 that
the sun was indeed the center, but that the planets moved in elliptical orbits around it at
speeds that varied according to the distance the planet was from the sun. He fi gured out
the exact proportions of speed and distance – what were later called the “laws of planetary
motion” – and asserted that these applied to all the planets, including the earth. In
Kepler’s conceptualization, the planets circling the sun were a system distinct from the
rest of the universe, clearly breaking with the Aristotelian notion of a unifi ed cosmos,
just as his elliptical orbits challenged Aristotelian (and Copernican) concepts of perfectly
circular forms.
Brahe’s and Kepler’s observations had all been done with the naked eye, but the
invention of the telescope by Dutch opticians in the early seventeenth century allowed
for closer observations. On hearing about the Dutch invention, Galileo built his own
telescope and used it to study the sky. Galileo was a tutor and later professor of mathematics
at the universities of Pisa and Padua, where he was expected to teach courses
in astronomy. Studying astronomical theory he became convinced that Copernicus
was right, and his telescopic discoveries offered evidence that Aristotle’s understanding
of the universe was wrong. The moon was not a perfectly round sphere that glowed,
but was pitted like the earth and simply refl ected light; the sun was not changeless, for
sunspots moved across its surface. The earth was not the only center of rotation, for
the planet Jupiter had four moons, a dramatic discovery that Galileo highlighted in The
Starry Messenger , published in 1610. In this lively account, which the title page describes
as “unfolding great and very wonderful sights,” Galileo named the moons of Jupiter
SOURCE 27 Letters between Kepler and Galileo, 1597
Though published writings and scientifi c societies
were important in spreading new ideas, people
interested in science also communicated through
personal letters, where they often felt freer to
discuss their conclusions and theories openly. In
this exchange, Kepler urges Galileo to publish his
views; it would be more than a decade before
Galileo took his advice.
Galileo to Kepler, August 4, 1597, Padua
I received your book, most learned sir … So
far I have read only the introduction to your
work, but I have to some extent gathered
your plan from it, and I congratulate myself
on the excellent good fortune of having such
a man as a comrade in the pursuit of truth.
For it is too bad that there are so few who
seek the truth and so few who do not follow a
mistaken method in philosophy … I have written
many direct and indirect arguments for
the Copernican view, but until now I have not
dared to publish them, alarmed by the fate
of Copernicus himself, our master. [Copernicus
died peacefully in his bed; Galileo is here
referring to the ridicule he mentions in the
next sentence.] He has won for himself undying
fame in the eyes of a few, but he has been
mocked and hooted at by an infi nite multitude
(for so large is the number of fools).
Kepler to Galileo, October 13, 1597, Graz
I received your letter of August 4 on September
1. It gave me a twofold pleasure, fi rst,
because it sealed my friendship with you, the
Italian, and second, because of the agreement
in our opinions concerning Copernican
cosmography … You advise us, by your personal
example, and in discreetly veiled fashion,
to retreat before the general ignorance
and not to expose ourselves … But after
a tremendous task has been begun in our
time, fi rst by Copernicus and then by many
very learned mathematicians, and when the
assertion that the earth moves can no longer
be considered something new, would it not
be much better to pull the wagon to its goal
by our joint efforts, now that we have got
it under way, and gradually, with powerful
voices, to shout down the common herd,
which really does not weigh arguments very
carefully?
(“Comrades in the Pursuit of Truth,” trans. Mary Martin
McLaughlin in James Bruce Ross and Mary Martin
McLaughlin, eds., The Portable Renaissance Reader,
pp. 597–9. Copyright 1953, renewed 1981 by Viking
Penguin Inc.; used by permission of Viking Penguin, a
division of Penguin Group [USA] Inc.)
the “Medicean Planets,” in honor of the ruling Medici family of Florence. He wrote
that this was the best possible tribute, for “all human monuments ultimately perish
through the violence of the elements or by old age.” Galileo’s bid for patronage paid
off, and Cosimo de’ Medici, the grand duke of Tuscany, named Galileo his personal
mathematician and brought him to Florence, where he continued his investigations of
the heavens, and also turned his attention to the mechanics of motion on earth.
Galileo had a forceful personality and was always willing to engage in controversy.
In 1615, he wrote a letter to Cosimo’s mother, the Grand Duchess Christina, in which
he argued that Copernican theory was consistent with biblical teachings, and in any
case “the intention of the Holy Ghost is to teach us how one goes to heaven, not
how heaven goes.” The letter was circulated widely, a complaint was made to the
Roman Inquisition, and Galileo was ordered not to “hold or defend” Copernican
theory, though he could “discuss it as a mathematical supposition”; this prohibition
was soon extended to all authors. Galileo was chastened for a while, but in 1632 he
published a long synthesis of his astronomical observations, the Dialogue concerning
the Two Chief World Systems, Ptolemaic and Copernican . Galileo structured this as a
dialogue between advocates of each system and claimed he was providing a balanced
argument, but gave his inept Aristotelian the name Simplicio, and made his own
position clear in the fi nal discussion. Summoned again to Rome, Galileo was forced
to recant, and was sentenced to life imprisonment; he spent the rest of his life under
house arrest, though this did not stop him from publishing a further defense of new
scientifi c ideas in many fi elds.
In an older view of the history of science, the trial of Galileo was part of a long
battle between religion, especially Catholicism, and science, in which science, or at least
Galileo, was fi nally vindicated in 1992 when Pope John Paul II publicly admitted the
church had made a mistake in condemning him. Most historians of science today fi nd
the story to be more complicated, as Galileo had many supporters within the Catholic
Church, especially among Jesuits, and both personal and political issues were involved
in the 1633 condemnation. Catholics and Protestants varied in their acceptance of the
Copernican system and other new ideas, and it is clear that most scientists regarded
their religious beliefs as essential to their scientifi c work.