Grand Duke of Florence (May 31, 1611) that Galileo had given great satisfaction: ‘Were we still living under the ancient republic of Rome I verily believe there would have been a column on the capitol erected in his honor.’ Galileo was at the top of the wave of fortune to all appearance. At this very moment, however, Cremonini's trial was going on before the Roman Inquisition and on the records is an inquiry whether Cremonini and Galileo were in any relation with each other. He was already suspected of heresy. His friendship would, even then, have been prejudicial. By 1613 Galileo was aware that there was a league of his Florentine enemies against him. In a letter to Prince Cesi he makes light of it. ‘I laugh at it,’ he says, but it was none the less serious. It was based on religious scruples, but stirred to action by bitter personal animosities.
Brilliant successes, like those of Galileo, raise up an army of enemies. He was haughty with his own. Sure of his talents, his fortune and his powerful patrons in church and state, he had no managements for any one. ‘The wind is fair: now is the time to take in sail,’ is a maxim that he would have scorned. Of Aristotle's virtues he practised magnificence, not prudence. His colleagues in the universities were mostly Aristotelians. The heretical and Arab Aristotle had been banished; the Greek Aristotle reigned supreme. Galileo handled his opponents harshly. He was proud; he had a right to be. He was haughty; it led to his fall. When certain chosen astronomers of Italy were asked in 1615 by the Holy Office to report on his system, the report was adverse. Science and pseudo-science were in conflict and the latter won. The Aristotelianism of the universities was bound closely to that of the church. In attacking the orthodox Aristotle, Galileo attacked—or was supposed to have attacked—orthodoxy itself. His enemies were vanquished in philosophy; they dragged in texts of scripture to support the weakness of their science. Galileo met them on this ground also, which was a fatal error. He was no more competent to discuss texts of scripture than they to decide upon points of science.
Father Castelli, an ardent friend of Galileo's, had been appointed to be professor of mathematics at Pisa (1613). At a dinner at the Ducal Palace (December, 1613) the conversation turned on astronomical matters. Did the Medicean stars really exist? asked the Dowager Duchess Christine. The professor of physics in the university reluctantly admitted that they did—that he had seen them. Castelli then praised Galileo's splendid discovery. The professor whispered something to the duchess to insinuate that while the discoveries might be true, the conclusion in favor of the Copernican theory was certainly contrary to scripture. Castelli was called upon to reply and made a brilliant answer. The Grand Duke and most of those present were convinced. Castelli reports all this to Galileo, and Galileo writes in reply (Decem-
