Authors: Arthur Koestler
Yet
in
Northern
Europe,
the
more
bigoted
minority
of
the
clergy
was
still
fighting
a
rearguard
action
against
the
revival
of
antique
learning.
In
Copernicus'
youth,
Greek
was
not
taught
at
any
German
or
Polish
university;
the
first
teacher
of
Greek
at
Cracow,
Georg
Libanius,
complained
that
religious
zealots
were
trying
to
prohibit
his
lectures
and
to
excommunicate
all
who
learned
Hebrew
and
Greek.
Some
German
Dominicans
were
particularly
vociferous
in
denouncing
as
heretical
all
research
into
the
unexpurgated
Greek
and
Hebrew
texts.
One
of
them,
the
monk
Simon
Grunau,
grumbled
in
his
chronicle:
"Some
have
not
seen
a
Jew
or
Greek
in
all
their
days,
and
yet
could
read
Jewish
and
Greek
from
books
–
they
are
obsessed."
24
This
obscure
Grunau
and
the
aforementioned
Libanius
are
often
quoted
in
the
literature
on
Copernicus,
in
order
to
prove
that
it
needed
great
courage
on
the
Canon's
part
to
publish
a
translation
from
the
Greek;
and
that
by
this
symbolic
gesture
he
took
demonstratively
the
side
of
the
humanists
against
the
obscurantists.
The
gesture
was
certainly
a
calculated
one,
but
insofar
as
it
implied
a
taking
of
sides,
Copernicus
was
siding
with
the
victors:
at
the
time
when
he
published
his
booklet,
Erasmus
and
the
humanists
seemed
to
be
carrying
the
day.
It
was
the
time
of
the
great
European
revival
before
the
Western
world
split
into
two
hostile
camps,
before
the
horrors
of
the
Reformation
and
Counter-Reformation,
before
Rome
countered
the
advance
of
the
printing
press
with
its
index
librorum
prohibitorum
.
Erasmus
was
still
the
undisputed
intellectual
leader,
who
could
write
without
boasting
that
his
disciples
included:
"the
Emperor,
the
Kings
of
England,
France
and
Denmark,
Prince
Ferdinand
of
Germany,
the
Cardinal
of
England,
the
Archbishop
of
Canterbury,
and
more
princes,
more
bishops,
more
learned
and
honourable
men
than
I
can
name,
not
only
in
England,
Flanders,
France
and
Germany,
but
even
in
Poland
and
Hungary."
25
These
considerations
may
help
to
explain
the
peculiar
choice
of
the
text.
It
was
a
Greek
text,
and
its
translation
therefore
meritorious
in
the
eyes
of
the
humanists;
yet
it
was
not
an
antique
Greek
text,
but
written
by
a
Byzantine
Christian
of
the
seventh
century,
with
such
unimpeachable
dullness
and
piety
that
not
even
a
fanatical
monk
could
object
to
it.
In
short,
the
Epistles
of
Theophylactus
were
both
fish
and
fowl,
Greek
and
Christian,
and
generally
speaking,
safe
as
houses.
They
attracted
no
attention
whatsoever,
either
among
humanists
or
obscurantists,
and
were
soon
forgotten.
6.
The Canon
In
1512,
Bishop
Lucas
suddenly
died.
He
had
journeyed
to
Cracow
to
attend
the
marriage
of
the
Polish
King,
and
had
attended
the
ceremonies
in
full
vigour.
On
the
return
journey
he
suddenly
developed
food
poisoning
and
died
in
his
native
Torun.
His
faithful
secretary
and
house
physician,
elusive
as
always,
was
not
near
him
at
his
death;
the
reasons
for
his
absence
are
unknown.
Soon
after
the
Uncle's
death
Copernicus,
now
a
man
of
forty,
left
Heilsberg
Castle
and,
after
a
delay
of
fifteen
years,
took
up
his
duties
as
a
Canon
of
Frauenburg
Cathedral
–
which
he
carried
out
faithfully
to
the
end
of
his
life.
The
duties
were
not
exacting.
The
sixteen
Canons
led
the
leisurely,
worldly
and
opulent
life
of
provincial
noblemen.
They
carried
arms
(except
at
the
meetings
of
the
Chapter),
and
were
required
to
uphold
its
prestige
by
keeping
at
least
two
servants
and
three
horses
a
head.
Most
of
them
came
from
the
patrician
families
of
Torun
and
Danzig,
and
were
related
to
each
other
by
intermarriage.
They
each
had
a
house
or
curia
allotted
to
them
inside
the
fortified
walls
–
one
of
these
was
Copernicus'
tower
–
and
also
two
additional
allodia
,
or
small
private
estates
in
the
countryside.
Apart
from
all
this,
each
Canon
enjoyed
the
benefices
of
one
or
several
additional
prebends,
and
their
income
was
considerable.