ECLIPSE--VISITS OF SCIENTIFIC MEN--LIFE AT NAPLES--DARWIN'S
BOOKS--REMARKS ON CIVILIZATION--FINE AURORA BOREALIS--DEATH OF
HERSCHEL--SUMMER AT SORRENTO--BILL FOR PROTECTION OF
ANIMALS--NINETY-SECOND YEAR--LETTER FROM PROFESSOR SEDGWICK--GRAND
ERUPTION OF VESUVIUS--LAST SUMMER AT SORRENTO, PLANTS FOUND
THERE--CONCLUSION.
The summer of 1870 was unusually cool; but the winter has been extremely
gloomy, with torrents of rain, and occasionally such thick fogs, that I
could see neither to read nor to write. We had no storms during the hot
weather; but on the afternoon of the 21st December, there was one of the
finest thunderstorms I ever saw; the lightning was intensely vivid, and
took the strangest forms, darting in all directions through the air
before it struck, and sometimes darting from the ground or the sea to
the clouds. It ended in a deluge of rain, which lasted all night, and
made us augur ill for the solar eclipse next day; and, sure enough, when
I awoke next morning, the sky was darkened by clouds and rain.
Fortunately, it cleared up just as the eclipse began; we were all
prepared for observing it, and we followed its progress through the
opening in the clouds till at last there was only a very slender
crescent of the sun's disc left; its convexity was turned upwards, and
its horns were nearly horizontal. It was then hidden by a dense mass of
clouds; but after a time they opened, and I saw the edge of the moon
leave the limb of the sun. The appearance of the landscape was very
lurid, but by no means very dark. The common people and children had a
very good view of the eclipse, reflected by the pools of water in the
streets.
Many of the astronomers who had been in Sicily observing the eclipse
came to see me as they passed through Naples. One of their principal
objects was to ascertain the nature of the corona, or bright white rays
which surround the dark lunar disc at the time of the greatest
obscurity. The spectroscope showed that it was decidedly auroral, but as
the aurora was seen on the dark disc of the moon it must have been due
to the earth's atmosphere. Part of the corona was polarized, and
consequently must have been material; the question is, Can it be the
ethereal medium? A question of immense importance, since the whole
theory of light and colours and the resistance of Encke's comet depends
upon that hypothesis. The question is still in abeyance, but I have no
doubt that it will be decided in the affirmative, and that even the
cause of gravitation will be known eventually.
At this time I had the pleasure of a visit from Mr. Peirce, Professor of
Mathematics and Astronomy, in the Harvard University, U.S., and
Superintendent of the U.S. Coast Survey, who had come to Europe to
observe the eclipse. On returning to America he kindly sent me a
beautiful lithographed copy of a very profound memoir on linear and
associative algebra. Although in writing my popular books I had somewhat
neglected the higher algebra, I have read a great part of the work; but
as I met with some difficulties I wrote to Mr. Spottiswoode, asking his
advice as to the books that would be of use, and he sent me Serret's
"Cours d'Algèbre Supérieure," Salmon's "Higher Algebra," and Tait on
"Quaternions;" so now I got exactly what I wanted, and I am very busy
for a few hours every morning; delighted to have an occupation so
entirely to my mind. I thank God that my intellect is still unimpaired.
I am grateful to Professor Peirce for giving me an opportunity of
exercising it so agreeably. During the rest of the day I have recourse
to Shakespeare, Dante, and more modern light reading, besides the
newspapers, which always interested me much. I have resumed my habit of
working, and can count the threads of a fine canvas without spectacles.
I receive every one who comes to see me, and often have the pleasure of
a visit from old friends very unexpectedly. In the evening I read a
novel, but my tragic days are over; I prefer a cheerful conversational
novel to the sentimental ones. I have recently been reading Walter
Scott's novels again, and enjoyed the broad Scotch in them. I play a few
games at Bézique with one of my daughters, for honour and glory, and so
our evenings pass pleasantly enough.
It is our habit to be separately occupied during the morning, and spend
the rest of the day together. We are fond of birds and have several, all
very tame. Our tame nightingales sing very beautifully, but, strange to
say, not at night. We have also some solitary sparrows, which are, in
fact, a variety of the thrush (Turdus cyaneus), and some birds which we
rescued from destruction in spring, when caught and ill-used by the boys
in the streets; besides, we have our dogs; all of which afford me
amusement and interest.
* * * * *
Mr. Murray has kindly sent me a copy of Darwin's recent work on the
"Descent of Man." Mr. Darwin maintains his theory with great talent and
with profound research. His knowledge of the characters and habits of
animals of all kinds is very great, and his kindly feelings charming. It
is chiefly by the feathered race that he has established his law of
selection relative to sex. The males of many birds are among the most
beautiful objects in nature; but that the beauty of nature is altogether
irrelative to man's admiration or appreciation, is strikingly proved by
the admirable sculpture on Diatoms and Foraminifera; beings whose very
existence was unknown prior to the invention of the microscope. The Duke
of Argyll has illustrated this in the "Reign of Law," by the variety,
graceful forms and beautiful colouring of the humming birds in forests
which man has never entered.
In Mr. Darwin's book it is amusing to see how conscious the male birds
are of their beauty; they have reason to be so, but we scorn the vanity
of the savage who decks himself in their spoils. Many women without
remorse allow the life of a pretty bird to be extinguished in order that
they may deck themselves with its corpse. In fact, humming birds and
other foreign birds have become an article of commerce. Our kingfishers
and many of our other birds are on the eve of extinction on account of a
cruel fashion.
I have just received from Frances Power Cobbe an essay, in which she
controverts Darwin's theory,[18] so far as the origin of the moral sense
is concerned. It is written with all the energy of her vigorous
intellect as a moral philosopher, yet with a kindly tribute to Mr.
Darwin's genius. I repeat no one admires Frances Cobbe more than I do. I
have ever found her a brilliant, charming companion, and a warm,
affectionate friend. She is one of the few with whom I keep up a
correspondence.
To Mr. Murray I am indebted for a copy of Tylor's "Researches on the
Early History of Mankind, and the Development of Civilization"--a very
remarkable work for extent of research, original views, and happy
illustrations. The gradual progress of the prehistoric races of mankind
has laid a foundation from which Mr. Tylor proves that after the lapse
of ages the barbarous races now existing are decidedly in a state of
progress towards civilization. Yet one cannot conceive human beings in a
more degraded state than some of them are still; their women are treated
worse than their dogs. Sad to say, no savages are more gross than the
lowest ranks in England, or treat their wives with more cruelty.
* * * * *
In the course of my life Paris has been twice occupied by foreign
troops, and still oftener has it been in a state of anarchy. I regret
to see that La Place's house at Arcueil has been broken into, and his
manuscripts thrown into the river, from which some one has fortunately
rescued that of the "Mécanique Céleste," which is in his own
handwriting. It is greatly to the honour of French men of science that
during the siege they met as usual in the hall of the Institute, and
read their papers as in the time of peace. The celebrated astronomer
Janssen even escaped in a balloon, that he might arrive in time to
observe the eclipse of the 22nd November, 1870.
* * * * *
We had a most brilliant display of the Aurora on the evening of Sunday,
the 4th February, 1871, which lasted several hours. The whole sky from
east to west was of the most brilliant flickering white light, from
which streamers of red darted up to the zenith. There was also a lunar
rainbow. The common people were greatly alarmed, for there had been a
prediction that the world was coming to an end, and they thought the
bright part of the Aurora was a piece of the moon that had already
tumbled down! This Aurora was seen in Turkey and in Egypt.
* * * * *
I am deeply grieved and shaken by the death of Sir John Herschel, who,
though ten years younger than I am, has gone before me. In him I have
lost a dear and affectionate friend, whose advice was invaluable, and
his society a charm. None but those who have lived in his home can
imagine the brightness and happiness of his domestic life. He never
presumed upon that superiority of intellect or the great discoveries
which made him one of the most illustrious men of the age; but conversed
cheerfully and even playfully on any subject, though ever ready to give
information on any of the various branches of science to which he so
largely contributed, and which to him were a source of constant
happiness. Few of my early friends now remain--I am nearly left alone.
* * * * *
We went to pass the summer and autumn at Sorrento, where we led a very
quiet but happy life. The villa we lived in was at a short distance from
and above the town, quite buried in groves of oranges and lemons, beyond
which lay the sea, generally calm and blue, sometimes stormy; to our
left the islands of Ischia and Procida, the Capo Miseno, with Baia,
Pozzuoli, and Posilipo; exactly opposite to us, Naples, then Vesuvius,
and all the little towns on that coast, and lastly, to our right, this
wonderful panorama was bounded by the fine cliffs of the Monte
Santangelo. It was beautiful always, but most beautiful when the sun,
setting behind Ischia, sent a perfect glory over the rippling sea, and
tinged the Monte Santangelo and the cliffs which bound the Piano di
Sorrento literally with purple and gold. I spent the whole day on a
charming terrace sheltered from the sun, and there we dined and passed
the evening watching the lights of Naples reflected in the water and the
revolving lights of the different lighthouses. I often drove to Massa
till after sunset, for from that road I could see the island of Capri,
and I scarcely know a more lovely drive. Besides the books we took with
us we had newspapers, reviews, and other periodicals, so that we were
never dull. On one occasion my daughters and I made an expedition up the
hills to the Deserto, from whence one can see the Gulf of Salerno and
the fine mountains of Calabria. My daughters rode and I was carried in a
_portantina_. It was fine, clear, autumnal weather, and I enjoyed my
expedition immensely, nor was I fatigued.
* * * * *
In November we returned to Naples, where I resumed my usual life. I had
received a copy of Hamilton's Lectures on Quaternions from the Rev.
Whitewell Elwin. I am not acquainted with that gentleman, and am the
more grateful to him. I have now a valuable library of scientific books
and transactions of scientific societies, the greater part gifts from
the authors.
Foreigners were so much shocked at the atrocious cruelty to animals in
Italy, that an attempt was made about eight years ago to induce the
Italian Parliament to pass a law for their protection, but it failed. As
Italy is the only civilized country in Europe in which animals are not
protected by law, another attempt is now being made; I have willingly
given my name, and I received a kind letter from the Marchioness of Ely,
from Rome, to whom I had spoken upon the subject at Naples, telling me
that the Princess Margaret, Crown Princess of Italy, had been induced to
head the petition. Unless the educated classes take up the cause one
cannot hope for much change for a long time. Our friend, Mr. Robert Hay,
who resided at Rome for many years, had an old horse of which he was
very fond, and on leaving Rome asked a Roman prince, who had very large
possessions in the Campagna, if he would allow his old horse to end his
days on his grassy meadows. "Certainly," replied the prince, "but how
can you care what becomes of an animal when he is no longer of use?" We
English cannot boast of humanity, however, as long as our sportsmen
find pleasure in shooting down tame pigeons as they fly terrified out of
a cage.
* * * * *
I am now in my 92nd year (1872), still able to drive out for several
hours; I am extremely deaf, and my memory of ordinary events, and
especially of the names of people, is failing, but not for mathematical
and scientific subjects. I am still able to read books on the higher
algebra for four or five hours in the morning, and even to solve the
problems. Sometimes I find them difficult, but my old obstinacy remains,
for if I do not succeed to-day, I attack them again on the morrow. I
also enjoy reading about all the new discoveries and theories in the
scientific world, and on all branches of science.
Sir Roderick Murchison has passed away, honoured by all, and of undying
fame; and my amiable friend, almost my contemporary, Professor Sedgwick,
has been obliged to resign his chair of geology at Cambridge, from age,
which he had filled with honour during a long life.
[The following letter from her valued friend Professor Sedgwick, in
1869, is the last my mother received from him:--]
FROM PROFESSOR SEDGWICK TO MRS. SOMERVILLE.
CAMBRIDGE, _April 21st, 1869_.
MY DEAR MRS. SOMERVILLE,
I heard, when I was in London, that you were still in good bodily
health, and in full fruition of your great intellectual strength,
while breathing the sweet air of Naples. I had been a close prisoner
to my college rooms through the past winter and spring; but I broke
from my prison-house at the beginning of this month, that I might
consult my oculist, and meet my niece on her way to Italy.... My
niece has for many years (ever since 1840) been my loving companion
during my annual turn of residence as canon of Norwich; and she is,
and from her childhood has, been to me as a dear daughter. I know
you will forgive me for my anxiety to hear from a living witness
that you are well and happy in the closing days of your honoured
life; and for my longing desire that my beloved daughter (for such I
ever regard her) should speak to you face to face, and see (for
however short an interview) the Mrs. Somerville, of whom I have so
often talked with her in terms of honest admiration and deep regard.
The time for the Italian tour is, alas! far too short. But it will
be a great gain to each of the party to be allowed, even for a short
time, to gaze upon the earthly paradise that is round about you, and
to cast one look over its natural wonders and historic monuments....
Since you were here, my dear and honoured guest, Cambridge is
greatly changed. I am left here like a vessel on its beam ends, to
mark the distance to which the current has been drifting during a
good many bygone years. I have outlived nearly all my early
friends. Whewell, Master of Trinity, was the last of the old stock
who was living here. Herschel has not been here for several years.
Babbage was here for a day or two during the year before last. The
Astronomer-Royal belongs to a more recent generation. For many years
long attacks of suppressed gout have made my life very unproductive.
I yesterday dined in Hall. It was the first time I was able to meet
my brother Fellows since last Christmas day. A long attack of
bronchitis, followed by a distressing inflammation of my eyes, had
made me a close prisoner for nearly four months. But, thank God, I
am again beginning to be cheery, and with many infirmities (the
inevitable results of old age, for I have entered on my 85th year) I
am still strong in general health, and capable of enjoying, I think
as much as ever, the society of those whom I love, be they young or
old. May God preserve and bless you; and whensoever it may be His
will to call you away to Himself, may your mind be without a cloud
and your heart full of joyful Christian hope!
I remain,
My dear Friend,
Faithfully and gratefully yours,
ADAM SEDGWICK.
* * * * *
After all the violence and bloodshed of the preceding year, the
Thanksgiving of Queen Victoria and the British nation for the recovery
of the Prince of Wales will form a striking event in European history.
For it was not the congregation in St. Paul's alone, it was the
spontaneous gratitude of all ranks and all faiths throughout the three
kingdoms that were offered up to God that morning; the people
sympathized with their Queen, and no sovereign more deserves sympathy.
* * * * *
Vesuvius has exhibited a considerable activity during the winter and
early spring, and frequent streams of lava flowed from the crater, and
especially from the small cone to the north, a little way below the
principal crater. But these streams were small and intermittent, and no
great outbreak was expected. On the 24th April a stream of lava induced
us to drive in the evening to Santa Lucia. The next night, Thursday,
25th April, my daughter Martha, who had been to the theatre, wakened me
that I might see Vesuvius in splendid eruption. This was at about 1
o'clock on Friday morning. Early in the morning I was disturbed by what
I thought loud thunder, and when my maid came at 7 a.m. I remarked that
there was a thunder storm, but she said, "No, no; it is the mountain
roaring." It must have been very loud for me to hear, considering my
deafness, and the distance Vesuvius is from Naples, yet it was nothing
compared to the noise later in the day, and for many days after. My
daughter, who had gone to Santa Lucia to see the eruption better, soon
came to fetch me with our friend Mr. James Swinton, and we passed the
whole day at windows in an hotel at Santa Lucia, immediately opposite
the mountain. Vesuvius was now in the fiercest eruption, such as has not
occurred in the memory of this generation, lava overflowing the
principal crater and running in all directions. The fiery glow of lava
is not very visible by daylight; smoke and steam is sent off which rises
white as snow, or rather as frosted silver, and the mouth of the great
crater was white with the lava pouring over it. New craters had burst
out the preceding night, at the very time I was admiring the beauty of
the eruption, little dreaming that, of many people who had gone up that
night to the Atrio del Cavallo to see the lava (as my daughters had done
repeatedly and especially during the great eruption of 1868), some forty
or fifty had been on the very spot where the new crater burst out, and
perished, scorched to death by the fiery vapours which eddied from the
fearful chasm. Some were rescued who had been less near to the chasm,
but of these none eventually recovered.
Behind the cone rose an immense column of dense black smoke to more than
four times the height of the mountain, and spread out at the summit
horizontally, like a pine tree, above the silvery stream which poured
forth in volumes. There were constant bursts of fiery projectiles,
shooting to an immense height into the black column of smoke, and
tinging it with a lurid red colour. The fearful roaring and thundering
never ceased for one moment, and the house shook with the concussion of
the air. One stream of lava flowed towards Torre del Greco, but luckily
stopped before it reached the cultivated fields; others, and the most
dangerous ones, since some of them came from the new craters, poured
down the Atrio del Cavallo, and dividing before reaching the Observatory
flowed to the right and to the left--the stream which flowed to the
north very soon reached the plain, and before night came on had
partially destroyed the small town of Massa di Somma. One of the
peculiarities of this eruption was the great fluidity of the lava;
another was the never-ceasing thundering of the mountain. During that
day we observed several violent explosions in the great stream of lava:
we thought from the enormous volumes of black smoke emitted on these
occasions that new craters had burst out--some below the level of the
Observatory; but that can hardly have been the case. My daughters at
night drove to Portici, and went up to the top of a house, where the
noise seems to have been appalling; but they told me they did not gain
anything by going to Portici, nor did they see the eruption better than
I did who remained at Santa Lucia, for you get too much below the
mountain on going near. On Sunday, 28th, I was surprised at the extreme
darkness, and on looking out of window saw men walking with umbrellas;
Vesuvius was emitting such an enormous quantity of ashes, or rather fine
black sand, that neither land, sea, nor sky was visible; the fall was a
little less dense during the day, but at night it was worse than ever.
Strangers seemed to be more alarmed at this than at the eruption, and
certainly the constant loud roaring of Vesuvius was appalling enough
amidst the darkness and gloom of the falling ashes. The railroad was
crowded with both natives and foreigners, escaping; on the other hand,
crowds came from Rome to see the eruption. We were not at all afraid,
for we considered that the danger was past when so great an eruption had
acted as a kind of safety-valve to the pent-up vapours. But a silly
report got about that an earthquake was to take place, and many persons
passed the night in driving or walking about the town, avoiding narrow
streets. The mountain was quite veiled for some days by vapour and
ashes, but I could see the black smoke and silvery mass above it. While
looking at this, a magnificent column, black as jet, darted with
inconceivable violence and velocity to an immense height; it gave a
grand idea of the power that was still in action in the fiery caverns
below.
Immense injury has been done by this eruption, and much more would have
been done had not the lava flowed to a great extent over that of 1868.
Still the streams ran through Massa di Somma, San Sebastiano, and other
villages scattered about the country, overwhelming fields, woods,
vineyards, and houses. The ashes, too, have not only destroyed this
year's crops, but killed both vines and fruit trees, so that altogether
it has been most disastrous. Vesuvius was involved in vapour and ashes
till far on in May, and one afternoon at sunset, when all below was in
shade, and only a few silvery threads of steam were visible, a column of
the most beautiful crimson colour rose from the crater, and floated in
the air. Many of the small craters still smoked, one quite at the base
of the cone, which is a good deal changed--it is lower, the small
northern cone has disappeared, and part of the walls of the crater have
fallen in, and there is a fissure in them through which smoke or vapour
is occasionally emitted.
* * * * *
On the 1st June we returned to Sorrento, this time to a pretty and
cheerful apartment close to the sea, where I led very much the same
pleasant life as the year before--busy in the morning with my own
studies, and passing the rest of the day on the terrace with my
daughters, who brought me beautiful wild flowers from their excursions
over the country. Many of the flowers they brought were new to me, and
it is a curious fact that some plants which did not grow in this part of
the country a few years ago are now quite common. Amongst others, the
Trachelium coeruleum, a pretty wall-plant, native of Calabria, and
formerly unknown here, now clothes many an old wall near Naples, and at
Sorrento. The ferns are extremely beautiful here. Besides those common
to England, the Pteris cretica grows luxuriantly in the damp ravines, as
well as that most beautiful of European ferns, the Woodwardia radicans,
whose fronds are often more than six feet long. The inhabitants of
Sorrento are very superior to the Neapolitans, both in looks and
character; they are cleanly, honest, less cruel to animals, and have
pleasant manners--neither too familiar nor cringing. As the road between
Sorrento and Castellamare was impassable, owing to the fall of immense
masses of rock from the cliffs above it, we crossed over in the steamer
with our servants and our pet birds, for I now have a beautiful
long-tailed parroquet called Smeraldo, who is my constant companion and
is very familiar. And here I must mention how much I was pleased to
hear that Mr. Herbert, M.P., has brought in a bill to protect land
birds, which has been passed in Parliament; but I am grieved to find
that "The lark which at Heaven's gate sings" is thought unworthy of
man's protection. Among the numerous plans for the education of the
young, let us hope that mercy may be taught us a part of religion.
* * * * *
Though far advanced in years, I take as lively an interest as ever in
passing events. I regret that I shall not live to know the result of the
expedition to determine the currents of the ocean, the distance of the
earth from the sun determined by the transits of Venus, and the source
of the most renowned of rivers, the discovery of which will immortalise
the name of Dr. Livingstone. But I regret most of all that I shall not
see the suppression of the most atrocious system of slavery that ever
disgraced humanity--that made known to the world by Dr. Livingstone and
by Mr. Stanley, and which Sir Bartle Frere has gone to suppress by order
of the British Government.
* * * * *
The Blue Peter has been long flying at my foremast, and now that I am in
my ninety-second year I must soon expect the signal for sailing. It is
a solemn voyage, but it does not disturb my tranquillity. Deeply
sensible of my utter unworthiness, and profoundly grateful for the
innumerable blessings I have received, I trust in the infinite mercy of
my Almighty Creator. I have every reason to be thankful that my
intellect is still unimpaired, and, although my strength is weakness, my
daughters support my tottering steps, and, by incessant care and help,
make the infirmities of age so light to me that I am perfectly happy.
* * * * *
I have very little more to add to these last words of my Mother's
Recollections. The preceding pages will have given the reader some
idea--albeit perhaps a very imperfect one--of her character and
opinions. Only regarding her feelings on the most sacred of themes,
is it needful for me to say a few words. My mother was profoundly
and sincerely religious; hers was not a religion of mere forms and
doctrines, but a solemn deep-rooted faith which influenced every
thought, and regulated every action of her life. Great love and
reverence towards God was the foundation of this pure faith, which
accompanied her from youth to extreme old age, indeed to her last
moments, which gave her strength to endure many sorrows, and was the
mainspring of that extreme humility which was so remarkable a
feature of her character.
At a very early age she dared to think for herself, fearlessly
shaking off those doctrines of her early creed which seemed to her
incompatible with the unutterable goodness and greatness of God; and
through life she adhered to her simple faith, holding quietly and
resolutely to the ultimate truths of religion, regardless alike of
the censure of bigots or the smiles of sceptics. The theories of
modern science she welcomed as quite in accordance with her
religious opinions. She rejected the notion of occasional
interference by the Creator with His work, and believed that from
the first and invariably He has acted according to a system of
harmonious laws, some of which we are beginning faintly to
recognise, others of which will be discovered in course of time,
while many must remain a mystery to man while he inhabits this
world. It was in her early life that the controversy raged
respecting the incompatibility of the Mosaic account of Creation,
the Deluge, &c., with the revelations of geology. My mother very
soon accepted the modern theories, seeing in them nothing in any way
hostile to true religious belief. It is singular to recall that her
candid avowal of views now so common, caused her to be publicly
censured by name from the pulpit of York Cathedral. She foresaw the
great modifications in opinion which further discoveries will
inevitably produce; but she foresaw them without doubt or fear. Her
constant prayer was for light and truth, and its full accomplishment
she looked for confidently in the life beyond the grave. My mother
never discussed religious subjects in general society; she
considered them far too solemn to be talked of lightly; but with
those near and dear to her, and with very intimate friends, whose
opinion agreed with her own, she spoke freely and willingly. Her
mind was constantly occupied with thoughts on religion; and in her
last years especially she reflected much on that future world which
she expected soon to enter, and lifted her heart still more
frequently to that good Father whom she had loved so fervently all
her life, and in whose merciful care she fearlessly trusted in her
last hour.
My mother's old age was a thoroughly happy one. She often said
that not even in the joyous spring of life had she been more truly
happy. Serene and cheerful, full of life and activity, as far as her
physical strength permitted, she had none of the infirmities of age,
except difficulty in hearing, which prevented her from joining in
general conversation. She had always been near-sighted, but could
read small print with the greatest ease without glasses, even by
lamp-light. To the last her intellect remained perfectly unclouded;
her affection for those she loved, and her sympathy for all living
beings, as fervent as ever; nor did her ardent desire for and belief
in the ultimate religious and moral improvement of mankind diminish.
She always retained her habit of study, and that pursuit, in which
she had attained such excellence and which was always the most
congenial to her,--Mathematics--delighted and amused her to the end.
Her last occupations, continued to the actual day of her death, were
the revision and completion of a treatise, which she had written
years before, on the "Theory of Differences" (with diagrams
exquisitely drawn), and the study of a book on Quaternions. Though
too religious to fear death, she dreaded outliving her intellectual
powers, and it was with intense delight that she pursued her
intricate calculations after her ninetieth and ninety-first years,
and repeatedly told me how she rejoiced to find that she had the
same readiness and facility in comprehending and developing these
extremely difficult formulæ which she possessed when young. Often,
also, she said how grateful she was to the Almighty Father who had
allowed her to retain her faculties unimpaired to so great an age.
God was indeed loving and merciful to her; not only did He spare her
this calamity, but also the weary trial of long-continued illness.
In health of body and vigour of mind, having lived far beyond the
usual span of human life, He called her to Himself. For her Death
lost all its terrors. Her pure spirit passed away so gently that
those around her scarcely perceived when she left them. It was the
beautiful and painless close of a noble and a happy life.
My mother died in sleep on the morning of the 29th Nov., 1872. Her
remains rest in the English Campo Santo of Naples.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 18: "Darwinism in Morals," &c.]
THE END.
BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO., PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.