The Sleepwalkers (129 page)

Other
problems
which
occupied
him
were
his
first
researches
into
optics,
out
of
which
eventually
a
new
science
was
to
emerge;
investigations
of
the
moon's
orbit,
of
magnetism,
of
meteorology
–
he
started
a
weather
diary
which
he
kept
up
for
twenty
or
thirty
years;
of
Old
Testament
chronology,
and
the
like.
But
dominating
all
these
interests
was
his
search
for
a
mathematical
law
of
the
harmony
of
the
spheres
–
a
further
development
of
his
ideé
fixe
.

In
the
Mysterium
,
Kepler
had
tried
to
build
his
universe
around
the
five
Pythagorean
solids.
Since
the
theory
did
not
quite
fit
the
facts,
he
now
tried
to
build
it
round
the
musical
harmonies
of
the
Pythagorean
scale.
The
combination
of
these
two
ideas
led,
twenty
years
later,
to
his
great
work
Harmonice
Mundi
,
which
contains
the
third
of
Kepler's
laws;
but
the
ground
work
to
it
was
laid
during
his
last
years
in
Gratz.

The
moment
this
new
idea
had
occurred
to
him,
his
letters
resounded
with
jubilant
Eurekas:
"Fill
the
skies
with
air,
and
they
will
produce
true
and
real
music."
But
as
he
began
to
compute
the
details
of
his
cosmic
musical
box,
he
ran
into
increasing
difficulties.
He
was
never
short
of
an
excuse
for
ascribing
to
any
pair
of
planets
the
musical
interval
which
approximately
happened
to
fit
it;
when
things
became
sticky,
he
asked
the
shadow
of
Pythagoras
for
help
–
"unless
the
soul
of
Pythagoras
has
migrated
into
mine."
He
managed
to
construct
a
system
of
sorts,
but
its
inadequacies
were
obvious
to
himself.
The
principal
trouble
was
that
a
planet
does
not
move
at
uniform
speed,
but
faster
when
it
is
close
to
the
sun,
slower
when
away
from
it.
Accordingly,
it
does
not
"hum"
on
a
steady
pitch,
but
alternates
between
a
lower
and
a
higher
note.
The
interval
between
the
two
notes
depends
on
the
lopsidedness
or
"eccentricity"
of
the
planet's
orbit.
But
the
eccentricities
were
only
inaccurately
known.
It
was
the
same
difficulty
he
had
come
up
against
when
he
had
tried
to
define
the
thickness
of
the
spherical
shells
between
his
perfect
solids,
which
also
depended
on
the
eccentricities.
How
could
you
build
a
series
of
crystals,
or
a
musical
instrument,
without
knowing
the
measurements?
There
was
only
one
man
alive
in
the
world
who
possessed
the
exact
data
which
Kepler
needed:
Tycho
de
Brahe.
All
his
hopes
became
now
focused
on
Tycho,
and
his
observatory
at
Uraniburg,
the
new
wonder
of
the
world:

"Let
all
keep
silence
and
hark
to
Tycho,
who
has
devoted
thirty-five
years
to
his
observations...
For
Tycho
alone
do
I
wait;
he
shall
explain
to
me
the
order
and
arrangement
of
the
orbits...
Then
I
hope
I
shall
one
day,
if
God
keeps
me
alive,
erect
a
wonderful
edifice."
¹⁶

Thus
he
knew
that
the
building
of
that
edifice
still
lay
in
the
distant
future,
though
in
his
euphoric
moments
he
claimed
to
have
it
already
completed.
During
his
manic
periods,
the
discrepancies
between
theory
and
fact
appeared
to
him
as
contemptible
details,
which
could
be
smoothed
over
by
a
little
cheating;
yet
the
other
half
of
his
divided
self
humbly
acknowledged
the
duty
of
pedantic
accuracy
and
patient
observation.
With
one
eye
he
was
reading
the
thoughts
of
God;
the
other
squinted
enviously
at
Tycho's
shining
armillary
spheres.

But
Tycho
refused
to
publish
his
observations
until
he
had
completed
his
own
theory.
He
jealously
guarded
his
treasure,
volumes
of
figures,
the
result
of
a
lifetime
of
work.

"Any
single
instrument
of
his,"
young
Kepler
wrote
bitterly,
"cost
more
than
my
and
my
whole
family's
fortune
put
together...
My
opinion
of
Tycho
is
this:
he
is
superlatively
rich,
but
he
knows
not
how
to
make
proper
use
of
it
as
is
the
case
with
most
rich
people.
Therefore,
one
must
try
to
wrest
his
riches
from
him."
¹⁷

In
this outcry, Kepler had revealed his intentions towards Tycho de
Brahe a year before they met for the first time.