original researches, bring us well within sight, if they do not admit us to the intimacy, of the astronomer of Frauenburg. We stand, it is true, too far off to hear the tones of his voice or feel the pressure of his hand; but we can watch him as he passes to and fro along the various paths of his life, with the satisfactory conviction that the figure before us is no legendary creation, but a being of flesh and blood like ourselves.
A powerful tendency of our time impels us to demand this species of intercourse with the past. We can no longer accept ideal presentments of historical personages. We want to see them in the working clothes of everyday life, or, better still, in the dressing-gown and slippers of familiar privacy, rather than in the stately robes in which early biographers thought it only decent to array their heroes for introduction to a respected and respectful posterity. Moreover, as regards Copernicus, this critical and realistic 'movement' has been aided by another and an equally energetic sentiment.
The credit of having given birth to the modern Ptolemy was from the first claimed by both Germany and Poland. But it was not until 1807, when his bust by Schadow found a place in the Bavarian Walhalla, that the dispute can properly be said to have begun to rage. The challenge conveyed in marble was met with a counter-challenge in bronze. Thorwaldsen received from the Polish authorities a commission to execute a national monument, which, emphasised by the defiant inscription, 'Nicolao Copernico grata patria,' was solemnly unveiled at Warsaw, May 11, 1830. The dogs of war were now fairly let loose. Graven and moulded demonstrations were succeeded by the fiercer and sharper battle of pens. And the world of thought and letters has derived no small profit from the contest. Nothing quickens industry like a quarrel. No trouble, it is well known, can be too great if only an advantage can thereby be gained over an adversary. The ardour of enquiry was accordingly redoubled. Associations were set on foot, distant explorations were conducted, dusty archives ransacked, crabbed manuscripts deciphered, in part, no doubt, out of a natural and noble enthusiasm for a great name, but also in considerable measure for the sake of gratifying a childish national vanity. The purer zeal which tempered party spirit in some was, we readily admit, uncontaminated by it in others. But if its stimulus had been altogether wanting, the stream of Copernican research would assuredly have flowed in a more sluggish current. The admixture of vulgar motive may thus be freely pardoned for the sake of the gain secured through it.
